Chapter Text
Veronica stood against the white wood of her closet door, holding the knob shut as J.D banged against it, trying to get her to come out. "VERONICA!" He screamed, causing Veronica to panic much more than she already had been. She'd bring her black and white dotted sleeve to her eyes, as she wiped away the tears that caused her vision to blur. Veronica's psycho ex-boyfriend, inhaled quickly as a means to try and calm himself down. "Open the-" The said psycho ex-boyfriend stuttered, ratting the golden doorknob to the closet. "Open the door please." J.D begged, finally letting go of the doorknob to instead lean on the door.
Veronica hadn't a clue on what to do, as she was convinced that if she stayed here, she would be killed. Veronica's breathing stopped, though compared to how she was breathing before, there was no big difference to the amount of air she was getting. "Veronica," J.D began again, though he sounded apologetic this time. "Can we not fight anymore, please? Can we not fight anymore?" Suddenly, the smell of Drano entered Veronica's lungs, causing her to cough. The closet became colder than it was before, and there was a presence behind Veronica. Fuck. It's Heather. "Are you really letting Jesse James fool you all over again, Veronica? How much of a pillowcase are you?" Veronica began to rock herself, standing up from the wooden floor beneath her. "Shut up, Heather." Veronica whispered, as to not alarm J.D that her dead best friend decided to haunt her whenever she felt the need for it.
"It's over, J.D! It's over!" Veronica screamed, hearing the man from the other side of her door begin to break down into sobs. "I'm sorry, J.D. I never meant for this to get so out of hand." Veronica said, bringing her tone down to be more gentle. She wasn't trying to get a rise out of him, she was trying to calm him down. J.D began to rattle the knob once again, as Veronica slowly stood to turn the lock that held the door closed. "I can't stop him, can I?" Veronica asked herself, as Heather still stood behind her, balling her hands into fists. "I swear to God, Veronica!" Heather yelled out, causing Veronica to flinch. "Sorry, Heather." She whispered, before J.D began a ramble once again. "Veronica, please open the door. We can talk about everything!"
Talk. J.D always swore up and down that the only thing he would do was talk, but his anger would usually take over and he would wave his damn gun around. Veronica never agreed with the way J.D acted, but she loved him too much to stop everything she was doing. Maybe she loved what she'd done as much as she loved him. But, good little girl Veronica Sawyer would never admit, or accept the fact.
Veronica knew J.D was mad. She could hear the tone of his voice, even through all the begging he'd been doing. "He'll kill me either way." Veronica told herself, coming to terms with how she may just actually die soon. She finally turned the lock, slowly emerging from the door she was hiding behind. J.D threw his hands up, gently looking at the girl below him. "Veronica." He whispered, tears in his eyes. He brought himself closer to Veronica, bringing his hands down. "Veronica, please don't leave me."
Veronica took in what J.D said, beginning to sob. Those 5 words were the same words that J.D spewed out the day Kurt and Ram had died. The same day they were murdered. The same day Veronica thought she was done with bad boys like him.
"I should've left you so long ago. I should've left you the second you handed me the mug." Veronica thought, knowing no matter what she knew or thought about didn't matter. She loved the man, no matter how much she knew she shouldn't. She loved him so much, it hurt her.
"Why?" Veronica asked, briefly looking up to meet J.D's eyes before quickly looking down again. J.D didn't smile, but he was proud of what he did. He has a reason behind everything he does. Right now, he had a reason.
"They hurt you." J.D coldly replied, causing Veronica to begin blubber about how it was her fault, and she could've been safer. Though, in the back of her mind, she knew the fault wasn't hers. "Seventeen." Veronica began, huffing in quickly. "They were seventeen." She finished, hearing the ghosts of the three people she killed begin to whisper incoherent things behind her. "We'll be seventeen forever, Veronica. And you're to blame." They whispered, before drifting into incoherent whispers all over again.
Veronica slammed her palms over her ears, beginning to wail louder than she was before. She backed up from J.D as much as she could, ramming into a desk and watching as J.D slowly stepped closer to her. "Veronica, it's okay now, shh." He attempted to coax her, ramming his hands into the pockets of the black trench coat he wore. Veronica looked down at his pockets, being to ramble to herself.
"Shit, shit, shit. Why is he so calm with me? Does he have a gun. I fucked up. Now I'll be dead too." She'd murmur, whipping her body around and dragging open the drawer to the desk that stopped her from backing into a corner. J.D and Veronica were a small distance apart, though there wasn't a big advantage for Veronica, either way. She quickly rummaged through the desk, grabbing a pair of scissors she never got the chance to use. Until now.
Veronica pulled herself back around, holding the scissors while also gripping onto the desk with her free hand. She wouldn't lie to herself, she was terrified. She had no idea of what would happen if she didn't fight, so that was the first thing she went to. "Veronica, I'm sorry." J.D said, noticing the girls heavy breathing, and the shiny pair of scissors. “You’re panicking, darling. You don’t need to hurt me.” He continued, though it didn't help Veronica calm down at all.
J.D slowly pulled the gun out of the coat pockets, locking eyes with Veronica. "He's not taking me seriously." She'd whisper, knowing a gun would always win a fight over a pair of scissors. Veronica quickly lunged toward J.D, trying to hurt him before he got the chance to hurt her.
This was her choice.
That was Veronica's only choice, until J.D grabbed her by the stomach and pulled her around, her back against his chest.