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After they have successfully staged Kurt and Ram’s double-suicide, JD is forced to physically drag Veronica away from the crime scene and to his house. She is shaking and hyperventilating and when they finally reach JD’s room he sets her on his bed and produces a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. “Veronica?” he asks, running his hands down her upper arms a few times before pulling her close. She stares into the space over his shoulder and doesn’t seem to acknowledge him.
JD tugs on his hair with one hand and stands up, pacing across the room and leaving muddy footprints on the cream carpet. Things had not gone as well as he had planned. He certainly hadn’t expected Veronica to crack, but he also never intended to lead her in blind. He had been convinced that she would be willing to kill the jocks once he properly explained his plan, but he panicked when he saw the way her eyes widened in fear when he pulled out the guns. Coward. He came up with a lie so quickly and confidently that she didn’t suspect a thing until it was too late.
He botched the only chance he had to sway Veronica to his way of thinking. Everything from this point on will seem like an excuse to her.
He groans and slams his forearm into his wall, making the doorknob rattle. Veronica makes a small noise and curls into herself when JD looks back at her.
JD feels like he’s been stabbed.
A good five minutes pass before he is comfortable enough to face Veronica. He’s impossibly angry and disgusted at himself and as much as he tries he can’t tamp down a slight frustration directed towards her.
When his concern for her begins to overwhelm everything else, he turns around, runs an open hand down his face, and walks over to the bed. Veronica is boring holes into the floor with her eyes. JD reaches down and lightly brushes her shoulder and Veronica stiffens in a full-body flinch, still staring intently downwards.
“Veronica,” he says, hurt and desperate and almost wishing that he could just check out instead of feeling like he’s about to boil over. It comes out sounding harsher than it should and Veronica lets out a quiet sob. Resisting the urge to shake her, JD withdraws his hand and clenches his jaw. He kneels down in front of her and forces a calm affect, “I just want to know what I can do to help you. Please, talk to me.”
She continues to breathe shallowly, mascara-stained tears making their way down her cheeks in a steady stream. She clutches at his comforter with both hands and looks up at him.
“Take me home,” she says, her voice torn from screaming and subsequent disuse.
JD purses his lips and swallows thickly, feeling tears threatening to well up. “Veronica, please…” he whispers.
“You heard me. Take me home.” Her eyes are red and full of tears but steely.
JD has never experienced anyone looking at him with this much disgust, not even his father. Growling, he stands up and shoves his fisted hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat. He glances down at Veronica. “I need you here. We need to talk about this.”
“What is there to talk about? You’re a fucking psychopath and I want nothing to do with you.”
Veronica pulls herself up and moves to walk towards the door when JD cuts in front of her, an open hand outstretched. “Wait, just. Fuck. Please,” he says, brokenly.
She shakes her head and tries to charge past him but JD catches her shirt and pulls him to her, grabbing her wrists and holding her firmly against the wall. Veronica struggles and quickly tears herself from his grip. “Don’t fucking touch me,” she hisses, backhanding him with all of the force she can muster.
It turns out to be a lot of force. JD looks back at her in shock, cradling his cheek lightly and furrowing his brow. Scratch marks run across his jaw where her nails grazed him.
Veronica pushes him to the side and opens the door. She pauses in the doorway, her back still turned. JD is allowed a small spark of hope for nearly three seconds before Veronica speaks and slams the door behind her.
“I want you out of my life, JD.”