Chapter Text
She goes to an empty hill at the park to study that afternoon.
The park. Only a short walk from her dorm. While a good chunk of it is made up of random guys trying to sell her weed or record her for some social media campaign, it’s still her favorite place.
Veronica leans against one of her palms while the other one lousily scrolls through notes on her laptop. She knows all of this stuff; she’s studied the materials plenty already, but her paranoia convinces her that she needs to refresh her memory as often as possible.
She feels lonely.
Veronica doesn’t have that many friends in college. A few friendly classmates, sure, but no shoulders to cry on.
Just a posthumous mythic bitch and a pair of dead jocks following her around all the time. And they don’t exactly lend her any sort of comfort.
She’s surprised none of them took this opportunity to annoy her. She’s alone, with no one else around her. Perfect time to subject Veronica to whatever bullshit they have to offer.
There’s nothing.
She takes it as a sign from some higher power to lock in and get her shit done.
Until a sigh is breathed near her left ear and she is entirely bewildered because J.D. is sitting right next to her.
Maybe her imagination really is abnormal.
“Not your imagination this time, unfortunately,” the mullet boy mutters, and Veronica stares at him with a dumbfounded look that seems on the brink of relief.
There’s too many questions to possibly be answered right now.
The last time Veronica saw J.D., physically saw him, was after she had a nightmare. She swore it was her brain, overtired and fatigued, playing tricks on her. But here, her mind is fully awake and there is no denying that Veronica can see J.D. with her bare eyes.
“I waited,” he goes on. He’s looking straight forward, not at her. “Would’ve waited forever, if it meant you were okay.”
She can’t tell if she’s talking to herself in some capacity, or something else. But considering the world she lives in and the situation she’s fated herself in, the latter seems more and more likely by the second.
“You’re like them,” she mutters, her thoughts finally coming to fruition out loud. “Like Heather and Kurt and Ram. You’re haunting me.”
J.D. lets out a soft chuckle—god, Veronica missed that. She missed it so much. “I don’t know if haunting is the term I’d personally go with, but yeah. Something like that.”
The girl in blue looked her posthumous lover in the eye. There—that slight translucency, the tiniest glow around his silhouette. Her disbelief was suspended the last time she saw him, but now it was undeniable that he bore a striking resemblance to the other ghosts in her life.
“You waited…for me to see you?”
A pause, and then a sigh. “I’m entirely at fault for all the bullshit and trauma you’ve experienced. Your life will never be the same, and it’s all because of me. The least I could do was let you live a life without me plaguing it.”
“That’s not…” Veronica trails off. Her response was immediate.
Because while it’s true that her life will never be the same, it’s also true that Veronica has never been happier than when she was with J.D.
Before all the bullshit happened. Before the killing and the threats and the trauma. When J.D. was just a boy in a 7/11, charming her with his quirky quotes or slurpee obsession. When he was just a horny teenager, willing to do anything to please her. When he held her close and she felt safe.
“I didn’t want you to die,” she finally says, quietly. “I wanted us to run away, to get better, to heal together. To take everything we broke and put it back together, as much as we could.” Her hand unconsciously slips across the ground and touches J.D.’s ice cold palm. But she doesn’t move it away.
And he’s silent again for a minute. A long, drawn out minute.
Even quieter, Veronica whispers, “why did you show yourself?”
“I couldn’t see you suffer,” he states, almost immediately, breaking his silence. “Not after everything I’ve done. I…” he trails off. For a ghost, he’s not scary. Not anymore. He’s emotional. “You wanted me. I could hear it, in your thoughts. I try not to listen, but god, Veronica, it was so loud. You wanted me and for once, I had the power to make things right. To…”
A pause. And a sharp, shaky break.
“…to make you feel safe again.”
Unconsciously, Veronica’s hand squeezed his.
And then again, but this time consciously.
“It worked,” she mutters.
J.D. looks at her. Green eyes meet brown ones, like the leaves and bark of a spring maple.
“I love you. No matter how long it’s been, how crazy it is, how dead you are. I still love you, and you still make me feel safe.” Her words are firm. Any sense of confusion has since been replaced by honest vulnerability.
J.D. 's breath hitches and almost like an attempt to comfort himself, he shifts behind Veronica and wraps his arms around her like he always used to: one around her torso, the other around her shoulder. Veronica leans into him and puts her hands over his, squeezing three times.
“Fuck, Veronica,” the ghost boy chokes out, burying his face into her soft curls. “I can’t stay away from you. Not anymore.”
“Then don’t,” the girl replies. “You can’t go anywhere else, I know that. But, please, please don’t stay invisible anymore. I…” she trails off, quietly. “I need you.”
He holds her tighter then. Warmer, despite his icy cold skin. “I love you so much,” he whispers. “You make me wanna be good, Veronica. And if it means I have to do it in the afterlife, then so be it. I’ll be good.”
Veronica leans back, grabs his face with her hands, and kisses him.
Because even as a ghost, J.D. is still extremely kissable.
And it’s still adorable how off guard he gets when their lips meet. He catches his grip and kisses her back, with icy breath rapidly shooting from his nose and mouth.
The last time J.D. and Veronica kissed, it was interrupted by J.D.’s dad. But this time…there’s no one here to stop them.
No one here to keep them apart.
No one here to stop them from being good.
—
That night, Veronica pulls J.D. under the covers with her. His body, normally colder than dry ice, warms up like a heater in the winter season.
“Temperature reflects emotion,” he explains.
She decides to leave her questions on ghost physics for another day.
Veronica curls into his chest, just like she used to. One of his arms is gently draped around her form, like an extra blanket. The other runs through her thick dark brown curls.
“I don’t know how I held back from this for so long,” J.D. mutters with a bit of a chuckle. “I didn’t know how much I missed this until I had it again.”
“You have no idea how much I’ve needed this,” Veronica replies, before burying her face in his curly black mullet.
J.D. hugs her tighter then. He’ll keep her warm and safe. He’ll make sure nothing evil ever tries to corrupt her again.
He cuddles her like she’s fragile, someone to be loved and protected and cherished. But he holds her with a looseness that tells her that no matter what, she’s free.
He’ll be by her side forever, but he’ll never overpower her.
Veronica leans into him like he’s the last source of warmth on the planet. Like he’s the anchor holding the whole world together.
Veronica has no makeup on, her hair is messy and tangled, her pajamas the opposite of preppy. But J.D. is looking at the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen.
“Beautiful. Because you’re you,” he mutters, kissing her forehead. “Never stop being you.”
“You sound like one of those motivational cat posters,” Veronica giggles and J.D. follows suit.
He raises his eyebrows and stares back at the ceiling. “Well…am I motivating you?”
Another laugh. Louder this time. “In some capacity.”
It’s silent again for a minute, and for that minute Veronica pretends that J.D. isn’t a ghost. Pretends that the bomb never went off, that he came with her when she begged him to.
Because Veronica knows that if it was this J.D. in that boiler room, he would’ve come with her without any hesitation.
“What’s gonna happen with…this?” Her voice is shaky, not confident.
J.D. sighs, but holds her tighter. “I don’t know,” he mutters. “But I’m not giving up on us. On you.”
“I can’t date a ghost,” Veronica affirms, with a tiny chuckle.
“If ghosts exist, then so too can a way for me to come back,” he says even quieter. “If…if that’s what you want.”
And despite every cell in her brain telling her that’s bullshit, her gut says he’s right.
If there’s enough magic in the world to let her see him, then surely there’s magic to bring him back.
To try again.