Chapter Text
Veronica was tired; she was downright exhausted. Her muscles were still screaming in agony from being tied to a chair for fourteen hours straight. But worse than the pain was the deep cold ache in her bones. She'd failed. Yes, she'd caught the bad guy, but at what cost? The girl had died. Hell Veronica had almost died.
A heavy feeling of regret and despair had seeped into her bones and it was going to be a long time before it faded.
It had been a long time since Veronica had felt happy but she'd been coping. She'd kept busy, she'd not let the loneliness and misery get to her. Now she felt on the verge of breaking and she wasn't sure she could claw her way back from this. There wasn't a mask big enough to keep this hidden.
As she'd sat there, in the dark, damp basement of the abandoned church, waiting for death; she couldn't help but wonder, was it all worth it?
As a profiler specialising in violent crimes and murder her outlook on life was always going to be grim. She was always surrounded by darkness.
The trick was to become detached, something she'd always managed with ease.
She was the queen of compartmentalising.
Until this case.
Sheehan had decided to make it personal. She'd taunted her, put the victims' deaths on her and Veronica had snapped.
She'd been desperate and it had made her reckless. She would have done anything to close this one. She could lie to herself and say it was to save the girl, but that hadn't been it at all. Veronica had wanted to get Sheehan. To prove a point, to prove she was right. To punish her for making it personal, for violating her carefully constructed sanctuary. For making her realise and accept the truth. That she was all alone and she had no one to blame for that but herself.
Sheehan had mocked her, made her jump through hoops, and shown her up in front of her colleagues. She'd played with her.
Veronica had been cleared by the medics over an hour ago but she was still in a daze as she walked into her apartment building. This was supposed to be her home but she'd never felt at home there. It was just a squat depressing building where she rented a couple of rooms. It was somewhere for her to keep her stuff and she didn't even have much of that. One of the reasons she'd gone for it was because the landlord offered it already furnished. It meant she didn't have to personalise it at all.
It hit her then, just how little she was living. She was just existing.
She stepped into the hall just as Mrs Doherty, her downstairs neighbour, was leaving her own apartment. Veronica didn't know her and had barely spoken to her before, despite Mrs Doherty's best efforts. She was older and lived alone but her children visited often. She wasn't lonely like Veronica. She wasn't miserable. The woman stared at Veronica for almost a full minute, eyes wide with shock, before she finally spoke.
"Veronica what happened?" she asked, reaching out for her.
Despite Mrs Doherty's kind and warm demeanour, the threat of touch startled Veronica from her thoughts. She flinched and pulled away before the woman could make contact. She shook her head and stepped away from her neighbour.
Looking down at herself, she was almost surprised to find she was really there, really alive. She was a mess. Her white shirt was stained red and her hands looked scraped and bloody. Her wrists were turning purple and she knew from the throbbing in her cheek that she was sporting some bad bruises there too.
No wonder Mrs Doherty was looking at her, utterly horrified.
"It's not my blood," Veronica mumbled, trying to get past her neighbour.
Mrs Doherty grabbed her arm, ignoring her struggle and stopped her from getting further into the building.
"Veronica you shouldn't be on your own," she insisted.
But Veronica was always on her own, wasn't she? That was the life she'd chosen, the life she'd made for herself. That was why Sheehan was able to get to her so easily.
"I'm fine, it was just a bad day," Veronica said, sidestepping the older woman and walking into the building. She knew she was still watching her so she hurried up the stairs before she ran into anyone else.
When she got to her apartment she unlocked the door with shaking hands. She had held it together for the entire cab ride home, but she knew as soon as she walked into the empty apartment she would break down.
It was long overdue. This case was the catalyst but Veronica had been on the verge of this for a long time now.
Taking a deep breath Veronica stepped inside and locked the door behind her. But it didn't comfort her. Her apartment had been violated. Sheehan had sent her riddles straight to Veronica. She'd been inside. Dropping off clues to taunt her. Veronica no longer felt safe there. She leant against the door, letting her head fall back against the wood and her eyes fall closed. As the reality of the situation hit, her body went lax and she dropped her keys before slumping to the floor in defeat.
She looked out at her sparse apartment and noted the only thing that made it hers was the sizeable pile of old case files on the coffee table.
And that was it, she broke. She hugged her knees as the sobs wracked her body.
It was all too much. She couldn't do this anymore.
Murder, rape, child abuse, these cases had worn her down till she felt like she had nothing else to give. It had been years since she'd seen anything good in the world.
She knew she needed out of the FBI, out of New York. For the first time in ten years, she wanted to go home. She almost laughed at the thought of Neptune as home. But then she'd never tried to make a home here either.
Of course, Neptune was still her home. She'd left in a rush, a spontaneous decision to stay in Virginia. No goodbyes, she'd just walked away. She had so much unfinished business there.
Veronica screamed in frustration against her hands as the flashbacks hit her again. She looked down at her blood-stained blouse and tried to convince herself that she couldn't have saved Elizabeth Johnson. As she ran through the memories in her head, various scenarios presented themselves to her. Things she could have done differently; how she should have avoided the traps. If she thought about it, she could see she had become as obsessed with Sheehan as the killer had with her.
Veronica ripped off the shirt in anger and pulled it taut between her fingers, crying as the blood remained on her hands.
She stared down at her hands as if they belonged to someone else.
Veronica knew she needed to snap out of this before she lost control; she began to count down in her head from fifty, taking several deep breaths and trying to slow her racing heart.
When she felt a little calmer and her cries had subsided, she pulled herself up from the floor and dragged herself to the shower.
She attempted to wash away the blood and guilt with the scalding water, allowing herself to cry again under the spray. It was giving in to weakness one last time before shutting down her emotions.
When the water began to run cold, she turned it off and began the process of mentally clamping down on everything she was feeling. Building back up her walls and defences, locking away her pain was the only way she knew how to deal with it.
She still felt unclean as wandered into her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed.
She picked up the phone, and called her dad, praying he would pick up. She needed him now more than ever. Glancing over at her bedside clock Veronica was surprised to see it was already eight in the morning. She hadn't even realised it was daytime. It had been a few days since she'd been home, let alone slept. It meant it would be five in Neptune. She would be waking him, but she needed him. She needed to go home.
"Pick up, please pick up," she murmured, wincing at the ache in her throat.
She'd screamed so much in the past few days her ears were still ringing from it.
The call went to voicemail, so she hung up and called again. This time her father answered after five rings.
"Hello? Veronica is that you?" he asked, his voice heavy with sleep. Even though he was tired Veronica could hear the concern and surprise in his voice.
She couldn't help the tears from welling up as she responded. "Hi dad, I...I..."
"Veronica?"
"Can I come home for a while?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
There was silence on the line for a moment before her dad finally spoke again. "Veronica honey, what's wrong?"
She could hear the worry in his voice. He knew if she wanted to come back something had gone very wrong with her life.
"I'm ok dad. I've just had a long day. In fact, I've had a long year, a long few years. Things haven't been good for a while. I'm going to take leave… I need to. They'll probably make me take a break anyway and I just want to come home for a while."
The tears began to spill again and it wasn't quiet, sobs wracked her body. So much for keeping her emotions in check. A psychopath makes one chink in the armour and she was now a ticking time bomb of emotion.
"Veronica? Veronica? What happened?"
She was scaring him, she knew that, but she couldn't calm down. She continued to cry over the phone while he desperately tried to calm her down. He'd never known her like this.
When she finally managed to take a breath and stop the tears she hesitated. Her dad knew the case she'd been working on from the regular calls but he had no idea how involved she'd gotten, how much she'd become invested. The last he'd heard she'd been taken off the case. She'd stopped telling him things after that. He never knew how obsessed Sheehan had become with her.
"It got bad," she admitted.
"The serial killer case? Rebecca Sheehan?"
Even over the phone, she could tell he was really worried now but she couldn't think of anything to say to stop him from worrying.
He needed to worry about her. She needed someone to worry about her. It no longer chafed at her that concern for her wellbeing. She craved it. She couldn't be alone, not anymore.
"Yeah," she whispered.
"Are you hurt?"
"No," she lied. "But... I couldn't save her dad. It was on me, it was my fault dad. I had the chance to save her and I was so obsessed with catching that bitch that I let the girl die."
"It wasn't your fault Veronica," he said.
"No? Well, it sure feels that way!"
She couldn't stay calm, the panic was rising within her again. She couldn't do this anymore. She was breaking and she wasn't sure she would be able to put herself together again.
"Veronica-"
"No, I know what you're trying to say. Look can we talk about this when I'm home? I just can't deal, I haven't slept in about a week and I have to be at work in a few hours."
"Alright," he conceded. "You're always welcome here sweetheart."
"Thanks dad, I'll call you with my flight details. It's… it's gonna be pretty soon."
"That's fine honey," he assured her.
"I'll call you again soon dad."
"Talk to you soon Veronica."
Veronica could tell he wanted to say more but she hung up before he could ask any more questions. She felt a sense of hope knowing she was going home.
She would have some time to make up something to appease his worries. She settled back on the pillows feeling drained, but she knew that sleep was not going to come easy. All she could do was close her eyes and hope the nightmares stayed away.
She wasn't that lucky though. Her dreams were plagued with images of Elizabeth Johnson's bleeding throat and Sheehan laughing as she waved the knife at her. The feeling that she would never escape, never be found, as she struggled to get free overwhelmed her nightmares until she woke up screaming and thrashing.
She felt even more tired than before.
Despite the lack of sleep and the fact she now had to go face her boss; she felt a strange sense of calm settle over her as she got ready to face the music.
She was going home.
A week ago, hell even a few days ago the thought of going back to Neptune would have made her laugh. The idea would've seemed insane to her.
She'd gotten out, she was free.
Just days ago she'd been one step away from catching the most prolific serial killer on the east coast in ten years.
It should have been the case that made her career.
Veronica knew now that it wasn't worth it. She'd been left psychologically scarred from the encounter, left feeling damaged and broken.
She needed to get as far away from it as possible.
Now Neptune seemed safe in comparison.
As she walked into the office, the thought of going home excited her more than she could have believed possible. It kept her going as she walked toward Director Schneider's office.
She thought about her past few months in New York, the past few years and realised she hadn't been happy in a long time. Those last few weeks she'd been downright scared, terrified in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. If she was honest she was not sure she'd ever been so afraid. Not for herself anyway.
Sheehan had messed with her head, she'd gotten to her.
Veronica had foolishly thought that by catching her, she would no longer be afraid.
But she was even more afraid.
She'd thought she could outsmart her. As if it were just a game.
She'd fallen into a trap and been left doubting everything.
She thought by taking her on she could prove she wasn't weak, wasn't powerless.
She had almost been killed.
And Elizabeth Johnson had died.
It was winter in New York but in Neptune, it would just be another day of permanent sunshine. Not hot by any means, but not nearly as cold as the frigid chill that was seeping into Veronica's bones.
She couldn't even remember the last time she'd felt warm, or even the last time she'd stopped and just appreciated the sun on her face.
Veronica sat down and found her mind wandering to Neptune as she waited to be called to her disciplinary meeting. Her thoughts drifted to the ocean. When she began to picture the surfers out on the waves, when she began to picture a certain surfer, she tried to clamp down on those thoughts before she got carried away. It wouldn't do to be distracted. Not yet.
Who was she kidding though? The first person she wanted to see in Neptune, after her father, was Logan. No one understood her like Logan, and even after all the years between them, she felt sure that would still be the case. Logan would probably argue but he was one of the few people she'd ever let see all of her.
She hadn't meant to leave it this long.
Right now she couldn't even think of a single reason why she'd stayed away. She'd needed to leave sure, but it was never supposed to be permanent. She'd been determined to prove... what exactly? That she could survive without him?
Well, she could, but it had proved a lonely life.
She'd left him without a word and never regretted anything more.
Now, after a decade without contact and even if he had moved on, which was likely, he was the one person she wanted to talk to. About what had happened, and about anything and everything. She wanted to know all about his life and everything she'd missed. She wanted to know him again. She wanted him to know her. She wanted to be known by someone.
She'd come so close to being killed and leaving no memories behind.
Veronica just wanted to feel happy again, and happiness was always something she associated with Logan. She hadn't been unhappy her whole time away, she wouldn't have made it this far if she had. But solving cases wasn't enough anymore. She needed something else in her life. She needed to stop living for work. It had taken almost dying but she knew now she needed to start living.
The door in front of her opened.
"Mars."
Derek Schneider's sharp voice startled her from her reverie. She stood up from her seat and walked into his office.
"Sir," she said, addressing her boss with as much politeness as she could muster.
"Sit down Mars."
She sat down opposite him in the familiar office. She'd been called in there a lot over the years. Not just for reprimands although there were several of those. She looked around the room at the medals on the wall and the photos of his family. The little personalisations here and there. He'd been doing this a lot longer than her without breaking. She was starting to see how he coped. He had a life outside of the job to balance him out.
He was a gruff, no-nonsense guy. Late fifties and long used to being behind a desk. He was stern but fair. Veronica had always liked him.
She sat and watched as he went over the case notes on his desk, bracing herself for a reprimand. Schneider sighed and put the folder down. Veronica didn't know why he looked so tired, he hadn't even been working this case. She'd been helping the NYPD, but in the end, she still had to report back to the FBI. It probably reflected badly on him that his agent had behaved so recklessly.
"Going in there alone was suicide, Mars. What did you think was going to happen?" he demanded.
It was then that she realised he didn't care about the FBI's image. He was worried about her. She felt the tears prickle as the warmth of his concern washed over her. She missed her dad so much.
"She wasn't supposed to be there. I wasn't looking for her, just proof that I was correct."
Schneider folded his arms across his chest. "Rebecca Sheehan has been one step ahead of the NYPD this whole case, you should have seen it coming. You were reckless," he said, pointing a finger at her.
Oh now Sheehan was the genius, the dangerous killer, but when Veronica had pointed this out weeks ago she had been dismissed by the detectives.
"I know. I was desperate," she admitted, slumping back in her seat.
She had no fight left in her, she was exhausted. She'd made so many mistakes and she couldn't argue with him. She didn't even want to.
"I'm sure you can guess you're not going to be working for a while Mars," he said.
"Yes sir."
"We are grateful that that crazy bitch is behind bars, but the risks you took were foolhardy, you were almost killed."
"I know."
He gathered up the files on his desk and pulled out some forms. She watched him fill them in, wondering if he was suspending her. She found she didn't much care.
"I'm recommending leave for three months, plus mandatory counselling, you've been through hell."
Leave she could take, she needed to take. Counselling was an issue, but if she wasn't here there wasn't much they could do about it.
"I'm going to be staying with my father out in California. I can't stay in New York anymore," Veronica told him.
"Are you asking for a transfer?"
Veronica weighed up her options, should she tell him now or in three months? She wasn't coming back to New York. Could she pick this up in California? She knew they'd want her, she'd have no difficulty finding a position over there. But she didn't want to. She didn't want to just continue this life out there. Even with her dad and her friends there by her side, she couldn't do this anymore.
"No," she said.
Schneider sighed, but the look on his face told her he had known this was coming for a while. "Take the time off, see how you feel when the time's up."
Veronica nodded.
"California? When are you leaving?"
"As soon as possible," she said, tapping her foot. "Today."
"I want you to speak to Dr Wheeler before you leave, he's expecting you."
"Sir-"
"It wasn't a suggestion it was an order, understood?"
"Yes sir," she relented.
"He'll sort out follow-up sessions, I want you to attend them," he said, raising an eyebrow as if he expected her to defy him.
"Yes sir," she agreed, too tired to argue.
He stared but didn't comment on her lack of resistance. A year ago he would've had to drag her kicking and screaming to the mandatory counselling sessions.
"Don't disappear on me, Mars. They'll need you to testify, but there's a whole load of psychiatry assessment bullshit for Sheehan first," he said shaking his head. "And Mars? The girl's death was not your fault."
"Elizabeth," Veronica corrected quietly.
"What?" he asked, staring at her in confusion.
"The girl's name was Elizabeth, Elizabeth Johnson."
Veronica stood up and walked to the door. She was tired of statistics. Of dead girls that none of them remembered.
"Go get your head sorted, I don't want to see you for a while," he said gently.
"Yes sir."
As Veronica walked toward the doctor's office she thought of a similar meeting she'd had with Schneider just five months ago. He'd tried to suspend her then, worried that she was getting in too deep, too personally involved. He'd been right of course. Back then Veronica had fought to stay on the case. Schneider's worry hadn't mattered in the end. Two days later Sheehan had taken a personal interest in her, the riddles started coming directly to her, to her home, and she would only answer to Veronica. They couldn't suspend her, not when the entire case rested on her shoulders.
Veronica sat down opposite Wheeler, staring at the floor, refusing to make eye contact. She'd been in this office several times over the past few years, and she still didn't feel comfortable opening up in front of a shrink. It was hardly surprising, she didn't feel comfortable opening up to anybody.
She knew what was coming.
"You can't blame yourself for the death of Elizabeth Johnson," Doctor Wheeler began softly.
And there it was.
Usually, she'd just agree, to appease the good doctor and allow him to check a box on his forms. She could feel herself nodding even as she opened her mouth to speak.
"Yes, it was. It was my fault," she said.
Huh. That wasn't what she'd planned to say.
"Mars... Veronica, Sheehan was always going to kill her."
"I know that. But if I was smart enough to find her, to figure out she was the killer, don't you think that maybe I should've figured out her next move? If I'd focussed my attention on Elizabeth instead, we could have saved her."
"But then Sheehan would have got away," Wheeler argued.
"But Elizabeth would be alive, isn't that what we want? To protect people?" Veronica demanded, rising from her chair and pacing the room.
"Maybe."
The doctor watched her as she walked around the room.
"But then she would be free to kill again," he reminded her.
"Look I'm not saying it makes sense," Veronica said, sitting down again. "I'm saying I feel guilty for not trying hard enough. For treating this girl like a statistic before she hit the ground."
"You need-"
"I need to go home," Veronica said, cutting him off.
Home was what she needed, not any of his psychobabble.
"Fine go and rest I'll reschedule-"
"I won't be here, I'm on leave, I'm going back to Neptune," Veronica told him.
"Where's that?"
"California."
Wheeler made a note. "Fine, I'll send your files along to a colleague in our offices over there. I want you to keep these appointments that I set up for you."
"Thanks Doc," Veronica said, walking to the door without promising anything.
"Good Luck Veronica."
She didn't even stop at her desk as she made her way out of the building. She'd never made any personalisations, never put any photos up. All that was there was her stationery and she could pick that up anywhere.
She felt the weight lifting off her shoulders as the elevator descended. She knew it wouldn't last and the guilt was still there, at the back of her mind, in the pit of her stomach. But her relief to be free was fighting it and for now, it was winning.
As she walked slowly back toward her apartment, she was again hit by a wave of loneliness. There she was surrounded by the bustle of the city, people rushing about and living their lives, and she was lost in amongst it. Before she let it overtake her she had an idea. She pulled out her cell phone and only hesitated briefly before dialling another familiar number. This one answered on the first attempt.
"Hey Veronica, what's up?"
"Hey Wallace, how's it going? Any big plans tonight?" she asked, leaning against a wall as she spoke, she felt weak and drained. She needed out and fast.
"Oh yeah you know me, party boy extraordinaire, wild night on the town for me," he joked. "But other than that I'm free."
"Watch out ladies of Chicago," she said, smiling a little.
She was surprised it didn't hurt to do so, it had been so long.
"I'm going home Wallace... to Neptune. I just thought I'd drop in on the way, it's been a while since I've been in Chicago."
It had been at least three years. Wallace was a teacher out there, high school physics, plus coaching basketball. He was so close by, she could've allowed him to remain part of her support system but instead, she isolated herself from him just like she did everyone else. When he'd first moved out there after college, around the same time she'd started in New York, the plan had been to meet up regularly. Weekend visits in their respective cities. That happened once or twice before Veronica let the job become her life. She regretted that now. She had so many regrets.
"You ok Vee?"
"Not even a little bit. I think my career with the FBI may be well and truly over," she confessed.
"Shit."
"Yeah, but you know what? I'm not upset. I mean I am upset, but not about leaving," she said.
"It must be bad if you're going home," Wallace said, waiting for more.
As Veronica leant against the wall, she watched the people going about their daily lives as if the city hadn't been terrorised by a serial killer. She saw two co-eds walking down the street arm in arm. Up until yesterday, they could have been the next victims. She shook her head trying to stay present.
"It got pretty bad," she said.
"You gonna tell me about it?" Wallace asked
"Not over the phone no," she said.
"You going to tell me in person tonight?" Wallace asked.
He didn't sound hopeful.
"It's mostly confidential," she said.
"So that's a no?" he said.
"I'll tell you what I can," she offered.
"What you can by law? Or what you can bear to reveal?"
"Both, but Wallace it's really bad."
"Then tell me about it, I'm a big boy I'll cope," Wallace said with a sigh. "When are you gonna get here?"
"As soon as you'll let me," she said, pushing off the wall and making her way to her apartment, trying not to drag her feet.
"Come whenever you can," Wallace said
"If I can get a flight this afternoon will I be welcome?"
"Of course."
"Thanks Wallace, I'll see you soon," she said gratefully.
"Take care, Veronica."
As she walked home through the crowded streets, she felt different, lighter. The loneliness was still there but it was already tempered by the connections she was reforming, by the knowledge she was cared for.
The city was still noisy, and people still rushed around her, but she felt calm. She had made the first step, she had reached out. She wasn't going to let loneliness win.
When Veronica got back to her apartment she booked flights to Chicago, and then connecting flights to Neptune a day later. She texted her father and Wallace to let them know her arrival times and then proceeded to pack up her life in New York.
It didn't take long before she had everything she needed right away in her suitcase. She thought over it for a while and then called the landlord to let him know her plans. She was certain now that she wouldn't be coming back. He agreed to cancel her tenancy at the end of the next month, it was a popular location and he shouldn't have any trouble filling the apartment. After that, she arranged for movers to pick up the rest of her stuff and take it to Neptune the next week. When she was finished, she still had two hours until her Chicago flight with nothing to do to occupy her mind. She repacked her stuff twice, unpacked and cleaned everything again. Then packed it all again. She managed to kill an hour this way.
Veronica thought it was probably not a good thing that she was able to pack up her whole life in little over an hour. She wondered if she had never really settled in New York because she was just waiting to go home again.
She sat in silence on her sofa, fidgeting nervously as she waited for time to pass.
When her cell phone rang she jumped to answer it, pleased to see it was her dad.
"Hey dad," she answered.
"Hey sweetheart, I got your message. I just wanted to tell you I'll be there to pick you up from the airport tomorrow night," he told her.
"Thanks, dad."
"You're really leaving New York tonight?" he asked.
Veronica leant back into the sofa and thought about it. She really couldn't wait to get out of there. "Yes," she said, hoping he would understand.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"I saw your case on the news Veronica-"
"Don't dad, just don't. I can't do this right now," she said, hanging her head, hating that he was finding out this way.
She hadn't dared switch on the TV, she knew exactly what would be all over the news.
"Has the bureau arranged any kind of counselling?"
"I'm fine," she said. "But yeah, I'll be seeing a shrink. Not that they can help."
"That's good though."
He sounded relieved that she was going to try.
"Well look I'd better get back-"
"No you don't have to go," Veronica said quickly, knowing the desperation was clear in her voice. "I'm all packed and ready to go."
"Already?"
"Yeah."
"Veronica don't you think it says some-"
"Yes, dad. It says that I never really settled here, that I haven't been living. That all I do is work. That I'm lonely and miserable and have nothing outside my life but solving cases. But I already knew that."
He just sighed. There was no arguing with that
She managed to keep him on the line for another twenty minutes, talking about his day-to-day life. He apologised for boring her but honestly, it was the most exciting conversation she'd had in a while. When she told him as much she knew she'd worried him even more.
Veronica arrived in Chicago a little after seven. Wallace was waiting for her at arrivals. She ran to him, already feeling lighter now that she was out of New York.
"Hey Wallace," she said, hugging him close.
Wallace moved to let go of her, but she held on. It was her first hug in a long time. Wallace didn't say anything, just wrapped his arms around her again.
"Veronica?" he said gently.
"I'm ok," she said, pulling back.
"That's quite a bruise," he said, pushing her hair back.
"Yeah, faces tend to bruise when they're punched."
He shook his head and took her bags.
"Come on, let's go back to mine. You can avoid answering all my questions there," he said, but he was smiling.
"You know me so well," she said, smiling back.
"What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't?" he asked as he led her out of the airport.
An hour later Veronica was in Wallace's living room, sipping a beer and avoiding his questions. Wallace was sitting opposite her on the sofa watching her with concern. It wasn't that she wanted to keep what happened a secret, she just didn't want to worry him, which she would if she disclosed full details of what had happened.
"Look Veronica, you came here because you needed to talk to someone about this, and you don't want it to be your dad," he said.
Veronica shook her head. Damn, he was good.
"I'll be seeing a shrink when I get home," she offered.
"Will you?"
"Yes," she said.
She was being honest too, she was going to try therapy, although she was doubtful that it would help.
"And you'll avoid talking then too," Wallace said, getting up to get another beer.
"No can do. I won't pass unless I make progress in my sessions," she told him.
"Which doesn't matter because you've told me you don't want to go back," he reminded her.
"Damn."
"I'm wise to your ways Veronica Mars. Tell me what happened, just give me something."
"Wallace-"
"I'm scared for you," he said softly. "I've never seen you like this."
Veronica felt herself relenting, she stood up and wandered around Wallace's living room. Despite him living there for almost three years, this was only the second time she'd visited him there.
He'd decorated since the last time she'd been there. The apartment was small, although not nearly as small as her New York apartment. Wallace's decorating style was very much that of a bachelor pad, with a lot of greys and dark wood. But it was cosy and comfortable. It was unmistakeably Wallace's home in a way she hadn't ever managed at her place. From the basketball memorabilia to the large beach prints and photos of his friends and family, Wallace was settled here. Veronica envied him that he'd managed it. She didn't think that it could entirely be blamed on the job either. The more she thought about it, she'd always been poised and ready to return to Neptune.
Wallace cleared his throat, bringing her back to the present. There was no avoiding this it seemed.
"You know the case I was working on, with the NYPD?"
"Serial killer guy?"
"Serial killer woman," Veronica clarified.
"You were right then?" Wallace asked, looking impressed but not surprised.
"Damn straight I was right," she said.
"What did you do? You didn't-"
"I just did a little snooping. They were going after the wrong guy I knew it, I just wanted enough to prove-"
Wallace stood up, cutting her off. He marched over to her but Veronica stood her ground, she wasn't going to let him make her feel worse than she already did.
"Veronica this guy- this woman was obsessed with you. You knew she wanted you!" he said, voice rising.
Veronica could see he was angry and decided it was best that he didn't know quite how bad things had gone after that.
"I had-"
"I don't care if you had a gun!" Wallace shouted.
"She had a girl, she was taunting me."
"Did you save her?"
"She's dead," Veronica said, shuddering as the image of the dead girl entered her mind. She was going to be seeing that for a long time.
"And you?"
"I'm fine."
"Veronica," he said, sitting down opposite her on the windowsill.
"I'm fine," she repeated.
Wallace gave up. "So you quit?"
"Not in as many words but yeah I can't go back. When I… when it got bad I was scared and all I could think was is this it? This is what I've done with my life, is it worth this? At first, it was exciting, the job. But these last few years I've been alone in a big city working depressing case after depressing case," she admitted.
"What are you going to do back in Neptune?" Wallace asked.
"No idea," she answered.
It was the truth, she had no plan. All she wanted was to be home, to feel safe.
"You're going back for your dad right?"
"Yeah, I really miss him."
She was already feeling relaxed again now that the topic had shifted slightly away from her recent near-death experience.
"And?" Wallace pushed.
He was sitting with his feet propped on the bench, watching her with a knowing smile.
"And?" Veronica repeated, feeling confused.
"He who must not be named?"
"Voldemort?" Veronica joked. She considered her real answer carefully. "Maybe. I'd like to see him again," she said.
For the first time in a long time, that wasn't so hard to admit.
"Veronica-"
"No don't worry I get it. I know he's probably moved on-" Wallace snorted, but she ignored him. "But I need him in my life, even if he's just my friend. The idea of dying, without saying goodbye, without him knowing how much I cared, it's unbearable. I miss him so much. He's my oldest friend you know? Even now after all this time. "
"Still?" Wallace asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Yeah."
"But you refuse to talk about him," he reminded her.
Veronica stared out at the frosty streets of Chicago, and allowed her thoughts to drift to Logan, for the second time that day. Wallace probably thought she never spoke of him because of anger, because of what happened between them, but it wasn't that at all. There was no resentment, no bitterness. She didn't talk about Logan, simply because she missed him. Or she would if she ever let herself think about him. She kept her thoughts of him locked up because if she didn't she would be on the first plane back to Neptune.
She wondered what he was doing, wondered if he still missed her. Maybe not like he used to but they'd been through so much together, that had to count for something right? She really did still think of him as her oldest friend, even though she hadn't spoken to him in ten years, and she'd known Wallace almost as long now. They had so much history. And she knew, even now after everything, she could count on him. That had to mean something, she needed him as a friend if nothing else.
"Veronica?" Wallace said softly.
She turned back to face him and lent against the cool window. "I thought it would make it easier but it doesn't."
Wallace was quiet for a while, thinking. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again.
"What?"
He hesitated. "Do you still love him?" he asked, bracing himself for defensive Veronica.
Instead, Veronica stayed quiet, sipping her drink. "I think I always will," she said finally.
"Veronica it's been ten years."
"I know," she said, looking back out of the window again, waiting for Wallace to tell her it was a lost cause.
"He hasn't moved on either, you know." Wallace said instead, "I mean he's hardly pining away for you but he still misses you. You're still it, his great love or whatever."
Veronica turned back to him. "Still?" she whispered.
She got up and went back to the sofa. She pulled the throw blanket from the back of the sofa around her shoulders, feeling suddenly chilled.
Wallace followed her and sat down opposite, watching her carefully.
"Really. But he has a good life Vee, don't take your shit to him." Wallace warned.
"I won't. I couldn't. Do you talk to him a lot?" she asked.
"Not really. We were never really friends, not like him and Mac. I don't even know half the shit that went down because they never told me. But we get on, I like the guy well enough, I try to catch up whenever I'm in Neptune."
"But he's happy?"
"Yes," Wallace said.
"Good," Veronica said.
"Really?"
"Yes really, Logan being happy is important to me," she said.
It hurt that Wallace thought otherwise. She hoped Logan didn't think that. All she'd ever wanted was for him to be happy. She just wished they could've found happiness together.
"Even without you?"
Veronica thought about it. While she would be sad if Logan found happiness without her, the fact that he was happy was enough. Logan wasn't the type to cut her out of his life. He would make room for her, regardless of the life he lived now.
"Yeah."
"Well, he is happy. He's different too, it's been a long time after all. Look him up when you get home. He'd be happy to hear from you," Wallace told her.
"Really?"
"Really."
Wallace's assurances made her happier than she could have imagined. She made a plan in her head; go home, sort her head out, catch up with Logan, and start her life again. With or without Logan.
"I'm going to go to bed," she said, standing up.
"Night Veronica," Wallace said, standing up too and giving her a gentle hug.
"Thanks for listening."
"I hope I helped," Wallace said.
"You really did."
Veronica headed to the spare room. In bed, she lay awake for a long time mulling over her conversation with Wallace. She was not going back to Neptune for Logan, she was going back because it was home, where Logan happened to be. She also needed to be near her father again. Plus Mac was there. She made a mental note to inform her friend she would be back.
Her thoughts returned to Logan. How would that go? Would he really be happy to see her? After she'd all but disappeared without a word? Probably not, he'd probably be angry at first.
She'd left for her internship, telling him she needed time apart to sort her head out. Over the summer, being away gave her a lot of time to think and she'd come to the conclusion that she wasn't ready to go back to Logan. She loved him truly she did, but she wasn't ready to let him in. She wasn't ready to show him because she still didn't trust him. And what's more, he trusted her too much and far too easily. She knew she'd hurt him too. They would just keep hurting each other.
So she stayed away and never went back. At the end of the internship, when her mentor offered her a scholarship at Marymount she jumped at the chance. She'd loved the work she was doing, profiling came naturally to her and she ended up with a degree in forensic psychology. She had no idea what had happened when Logan went back for Sophomore year to find she'd transferred. She never let anyone tell her, but she missed him terribly. She'd even written several emails that she'd never sent. She had hoped with time it would get easier and it did but she never stopped missing him.
Wallace had said to her that he'd grown up since college. Maybe time apart had done them good.
Well, it hadn't done her any good, but if she thought about it she was wrong there. She'd had a hard time lately, but she already felt more willing to open up. Maybe she was just tired of being alone or maybe she was no longer that defensive, closed-off, scared girl anymore.
As her thoughts drifted to happy memories of their time together she hoped that would be enough to keep her nightmares away.
She'd had regular nightmares since Lilly's death, the bus crash and the night on the roof of the Neptune Grand.
She'd told Logan once, in a rare moment of openness, that he kept her nightmares away. He'd smiled and stroked her face, and told her she had nightmares every night and all he could do was hold her until they were over. She'd told him it was essentially the same thing and snuggled closer.
That night she woke up two hours later to Wallace shaking her shoulders. She flinched and pushed him back, ignoring the look of hurt and worry on his face. She pulled the sheets tightly around her.
"What happened?" she asked groggily.
"Veronica you were screaming," he informed her, frowning with worry. "What were you dreaming about?"
"The case."
She wondered if she would see the death of Elizabeth Johnson every night from now on. She wondered if it would ever get easier.
"You are going to get help yeah?" Wallace asked.
"Mm." Veronica shrugged.
"Veronica."
"Yes I'll talk to someone," she said.
"What happened to you?"
"It was just a hard case," Veronica said, trying to turn away.
Wallace grabbed her shoulder. "Veronica tell me what happened."
"I got in trouble. It... I was almost killed," she admitted. "And I couldn't save the girl."
"Jesus. How?"
"I... It doesn't matter it's over now. I'm safe now and I'm not going back."
Wallace looked like he wanted to push the matter but he must have seen something in her eyes because he let it drop.
"Fine go back to sleep, I'll see you in the morning okay?"
Wallace got up to leave but Veronica grabbed his arm. "Don't leave," she whispered, trying and failing to keep the desperation out of her voice.
Wallace didn't comment, just nodded and climbed onto the bed beside her. She was almost asleep when she heard Wallace talking. She stayed very still, listening to him.
"Yeah she's pretty bad," he said.
Veronica couldn't make out the person's response, but whoever it was spoke for a while.
"I think she was hurt, she got into a dangerous situation and it's really shaken her," he paused waiting for an answer. "This time was different, she won't say what happened… just that she was nearly killed-"
Wallace was silent for longer this time. Veronica wondered who was on the other end of the phone.
"Yeah, I know. Keith she's pretending to be ok now that it's over, but I really don't think she is. She's gonna need a lot of help. I'm glad she's going home," Wallace said.
"Yeah ok, good night Keith, I'll send you a text tomorrow when she's on the plane."
So Wallace was telling on her? Veronica had wanted to keep the near-death experience to herself, she hadn't even meant to tell Wallace but in her post-nightmare haze, it had just slipped out. Now her father wasn't going to let it drop, he was going to be watching her like a hawk.
Veronica still felt tired as she got on the plane; she'd hardly slept at all last night even with Wallace there.
She'd gotten up first thing that morning and spent her Saturday exploring Chicago with Wallace. He had attempted to start up the conversation about New York just once. After she'd stopped him in his tracks, he'd let the matter go and they'd enjoyed a nice day out eating plenty and exploring the sights.
She sat down in her seat and tried to amuse herself by profiling the other passengers. She made up backstories for all the people around her and was working on a guy sitting two rows in front of her when she drifted off to sleep. Almost as soon as her eyes closed she was transported back to the dark room Sheehan had held her. She was tied to the chair in the middle of the room. In her dream, she knew no one was coming to rescue her. She was on her own and Sheehan held the needle to her throat, spitting hate about the sins she had committed.
Veronica twisted in her seat as she approached death in her dream, waking up with a start.
"Are you alright dear?" the woman sitting next to her asked, watching her with concern.
"Yeah just a bad dream," Veronica said, turning away from the woman to catch her breath.
No one else was looking thankfully, she hoped this meant she hadn't been screaming.
"About the plane? I wouldn't worry about it, the chances of crashing are very unlikely. My brother Robert is afraid of flying. I tell him every time, that driving is far more dangerous than flying." The woman smiled.
She was older than Veronica, probably mid-fifties, with greying brown hair and a kind smile. Veronica smiled back, ready to nod and agree but obviously, something was wrong with her lately. She was losing her ability to lie.
"Actually I was dreaming I was being murdered," she said instead.
"Ah I... oh," the woman said surprised. "Is that a recurring dream?"
"I think it's going to be. I'm... I was FBI, working a serial killer case. It got bad. I think this is going to haunt me for a long time."
"Good god," the woman said, clutching a hand to her chest.
"Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that," Veronica apologised.
"Not at all, I'm a tough cookie and it's good to talk about it," the woman said. "My name is Maggie by the way. So why are you heading to California? Not more serial killers I hope."
Veronica wondered if she was considering changing her plans.
"No nothing like that," she assured her. "I'm going home."
"To your family?"
Veronica nodded.
"Husband?"
"No, just my dad. It's sad, isn't it? I'm almost thirty and I'm going to move back in with my dad. I've been living in New York for four years and it took me a little over an hour to pack up my life."
Maggie nodded sympathetically. "Married to the job?"
"Yeah pretty much."
"Well, perhaps you can find yourself a handsome man back home, to help chase away the nightmares. Maybe a surfer?" Maggie suggested.
Veronica laughed.
"Something I said? Not a fan of surfers?" Maggie asked.
"I used to date a surfer, a long time ago," Veronica explained.
"Oooh I sense a story here," Maggie said, rubbing her hands. "Come on spill, it'll make the flight quicker."
"Not really much to tell," Veronica lied.
"Painful topic?"
"Yeah. No actually, not anymore. It was for a long time. I wouldn't even let my friends or family talk about Logan. I didn't want to think about him at all."
Maggie raised an eyebrow.
"I've missed him every day. I haven't spoken to him in ten years but every day I've missed him."
"Wow. So you're going back for him?"
"No not... Logan's probably moved on, he's not the sort of person who can be alone. But even if he has I just want to see him, I need him in my life even if he's just my friend. I just think I'll be happier living near him. Yeah, we dated but he was my friend too, before that. I want that again."
"So you never-"
Maggie clutched the arms of her seat as they hit some turbulence.
Veronica smiled.
"I thought you weren't afraid of flying?"
"I'm not. I'm afraid of crashing," Maggie said calmly. "Anyway, you never moved on from your Logan?"
"I tried. Really I did. I just... I was so busy with work, I couldn't maintain a normal relationship, and couldn't hold down anything with civilians. I tried dating other agents, but that was hard too. I've been single for nearly three years. The last couple of cases I worked on took up my life."
"Because you let them?" Maggie asked.
"Yeah because I let them."
"You said you were an agent, did you quit?"
"No I'm on leave, but I don't think I can go back."
"I see. Now you're on leave maybe it's time to think about the direction you want your life to go, you've still got plenty of time. I never married and never had children. I have plenty of nieces and nephews though, I had such a large family I never felt lonely. Because I never tied myself down I was able to travel the world and focus on work. I've enjoyed my life thoroughly, but I know it's not for everyone." Maggie said.
"I used to think I was better on my own, that I wasn't lonely," Veronica whispered.
"But in the moment..."
"The moment when I was about to die, I felt so alone. And when it was over I knew I had no one to go home to."
"Then it's good that you're getting away from that, it sounds like a horrible life. Go home and be with your family, it's the best kind of therapy."
"Thank you for listening to me. Do you know I never open up? This is a pretty new experience for me, but I can't seem to help myself."
"Near-death experiences will do that, it's probably a good thing. You're trying to make connections, I think," Maggie suggested.
"Maybe but I don't want my dad to know what happened, he'll only worry," Veronica said.
"Then you need to tell him you're not ready to talk about it."
Veronica nodded and allowed Maggie to steer the conversation to a more pleasant topic. For the rest of the flight they discussed the exciting life she had led, never staying in one place for more than a year, living all over the world. Maggie clearly loved it. Meeting new people, seeing new places. She had friends everywhere but to Veronica, it sounded lonely.
Veronica said goodbye to Maggie at the gate. Who knew that talking to a total stranger could be so therapeutic? As she wandered through the terminal she felt dazed. It had been so long since she'd been in California, but it still felt familiar. Although she was tired she was still excited. She couldn't wait to see her dad. Her talk with Maggie on the plane had got her thinking. She was so tired of being alone. It was one thing to never settle down, but she hadn't even tried to make friends in New York. She had her work colleagues but that was it. She never went out, she took cases home to fill the time. It wasn't healthy.
She collected her luggage and went to find her father. It didn't take her long, as soon as she spotted him, she ran to him and threw herself into his arms. As he wrapped them around her she felt the tears welling in her eyes and she began to cry quietly against his shoulder.
"I've missed you, daddy."
"Oh Veronica what happened to you?" he asked, running a finger over the bruises on her face.
"I'm okay dad, I'm okay. I... I can't talk about it yet."
"Veronica," he warned.
"No dad. I'll tell you soon, I will. Just not yet ok? Please give me some time," she pleaded.
"Alright, well let's get you home shall we?"
"Yes please," Veronica said, handing her suitcase to her father.
As they stepped out of the main doors, Veronica smiled. It was good to be home.