A/N: This is a Veronica Mars oneshot that I've been working on for a while. It's not really as good as I wanted it to be, probably because I've been writing it on and off for a long time while working on another VM one-shot. It probably could have been better and it got kind of awkward at the end, but still let me know what you think. Read and review! Thanks! -Mac

Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars. :(

Bad For His Health

I came to a stop at another red light, and I slammed my fist against my steering wheel in frustration. It was taking too long. I should have been there already. I would have ran the damn lights if the local sheriff department didn't already hate me. Lamb is still just itching to drag me in for something. Even more so, since this has to do with Veronica. Her uncanny ability to do his job for him still seems to piss him off--even after all these years. You would think he'd get used to it.

When I got the call, I didn't know whether I was going to pass out or be sick. I didn't have time to do either, I had to act fast. I was out my door and in my car a split second after I hung up. I just had to get there.

My cell phone lit up and made a quiet humming sound as it vibrated on my nightstand. I had just gotten dressed after my shower. My hair was still wet and slightly dripping as I reached for my phone. I picked it up and read Veronica's name as it flashed on my screen. I smiled as I pressed send and held it to my ear.

"Hey Ronnie, I was just..." I began to say enthusiastically but the sound of her voice cut me off.

"Logan?" Veronica's voice was hushed, with desperation laced thickly through it. "Logan, I need you to come get me."

"Veronica, what happened?" I asked, near frantic. Her voice, her tone, it all struck me hard. It scared me.

"Logan, please. Just come, now. Please Logan." Her voice came out quickly, urgent.

"Veronica, where are you?" I responded, doing my best to try and remain calm. That was all I could do for her at the moment. I had to stay strong for her.

"My place, please hurry." Veronica answered and barely a second later I heard the click of her hanging up.

I flicked my phone shut, grabbed my keys off my dresser and rushed out the door as quickly as I could. I kept going over every possible scenario that could have prompted her to call me in such a way. Each one shook me to the core.

As soon as the light changed to green, I pealed out into the intersection. I had to get there soon. I just had to. Veronica never got scared like that. She never got in a situation where she had to ask for help like that. She never asked for help, ever. She was pleading with me to help her, to get her from her own home. She was scared to be in her own home. I know that feeling. That feeling used to define my existence during my childhood. I can't stand that she feels that way. No one deserves to feel that way. Especially not her. Definitely not her.

And as much as I wanted to believe it was something else, anything else, I knew. I knew it was him. He had done this to her. And when I found out what it was, he was going to pay for it gravely. He would get what he deserved. If he thought he could get away with hurting Veronica, he was dead wrong. Dead wrong.

He was supposed to be this great guy. Good for her, they said. A change, they said. I understood the implied meaning. This guy was supposed to be the exact opposite of me, and everything I was to Veronica. He was supposed to be everything I wasn't. I wasn't good for her. She couldn't trust me. She need to get away from me. I was trouble with a capital T. I can admit the relationship I had with Veronica was unhealthy. It was starting to resemble what I had with Lilly. That simple fact made me sick. I didn't want what I had with Veronica to turn into what I had with Lilly. Veronica was supposed to be different. And as much as I hated letting her go, I knew as much as anybody else that she needed someone different. Plus, it was my turn to end it this time. She got to the last go around. We had a sort of system going with our on-again-off-again relationship. It was my turn to dump her and her turn to have a "healthy" relationship. My turn to hope to God she didn't find someone better than me--hope that somehow we came back to each other.

I hated the guy from the moment I met him. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was not right about him. Everyone else told me it was my jealous I'm-the-ex attitude talking. Serves me right making friends with her friends. They only want her to be happy. Of course I want her to be happy too, but they see me as the guy who thinks she can only be happy with me. It wasn't like that though. It wasn't.

It was true a little. Of course I was jealous the slightest bit. We had only been on our off-period for a couple months when she started to date him. But that was just how it was. She always had a shorter rebound period than I did. It always took me longer to find someone than it took Veronica. I felt the slight twinge of jealousy every time I saw her with him. It was unavoidable. We try to stay together. We try to stay apart. It just doesn't work. So yes, I was a little jealous. But I didn't like him, and for good reason.

I'm obviously not the best judge of character. You can tell from some of the people I've called friends in my past. I couldn't tell you what was off about the guy, just that something was. I've gotten that feeling a few times in my life. That feeling that something was terribly wrong. I know that feeling, it kind of eats you up with curiosity and anxiety. I felt it the second she introduced me to him. I disliked most of the guys she's tested out when we were split, but this guy topped the charts. I had never gotten that feeling around the others, just him. And I was right. There was something wrong with him, something bad. He had done something to her.

I finally pulled up in front of her house and I was about to get out when I saw her coming out. I started up my car again just as she pulled open the passenger door and got in. The way she avoided my questioning eyes and folded into herself, told me all that I needed to know. He had hit her. She was ashamed that she had let her get into that situation. She didn't want me to think she was weak because of it. I could never think she was weak. She's the strongest person I know. I took a breath and started down the street again.

She was desperately trying to hide the bruises that were already forming along her wrists and arms. She pulled on her sleeves, tugging them down to hide her bare arms. She didn't want me to see, not yet. There was no hiding the cut across her forehead. Thank God it wasn't bleeding, anymore at least. She kept her eyes downcast and she stayed silent as I drove. I didn't speak until I couldn't keep it in anymore.

"He hit you?" I nearly growled out the question. I hated the guy. I wanted to hit something. Hit him. And I couldn't.

"Logan, please. Not now. Could we please just go somewhere...please." Veronica said quietly. She sounded small, vulnerable. After years of her making sure everyone knew she was loud, after years of her making everyone take notice, after years of never feeling like she was unimportant Veronica now looked and sounded as if she wanted to cower away, hide away from everything. More than anything she didn't want to talk about it, at least not yet.

So I remained silent, and just drove the route back to my place. Every so often I would glance over at Veronica, almost as if to be sure she was still there. She didn't look at me. She had her hands folded in her lap, and her face turned down toward her feet. I opened my mouth to say something a dozen times, but I always wound up closing it again without a word. I wanted to say something to comfort her, but I couldn't get the words out. And with my track record I would have probably said something stupid anyway. Yes, quiet was better. Definitely better.

Veronica stepped out of my car as soon as I parked in front of my peace. Still after all these years I had yet to out grow the Neptune Grand, though I had out grown multiple roommates. Veronica was across the lobby and at the elevator before I could even get in the front entrance. I stepped into the elevator behind her, and pressed the button for my floor. She stayed quiet the entire ride up.

As the elevator slowed, I stopped Veronica before she could step off. I put an arm around her shoulders pulling her toward me. Her only sign of surrender was the way she leaned into me. I let my arm fall to wrap around her waist as I led her out of the elevator and toward my door. I used my key card to let us in, and Veronica shuffled in with her arms wrapped around herself. I closed the door behind us and followed her into the room.

"Veronica, do you..." I swallowed as I began my question. I made to continue but Veronica shook her head.

She had turned so that she was facing me. I could see the slightly broken look that was shining in her eyes.The way she was wrapping herself up, and into herself, she looked almost fragile. I knew better. My Veronica wasn't that easily taken down. But the way she was looking at me, it was heart breaking. She was pleading to let it drop, to push it away.

Veronica tends to do that sometimes. She seems to think that hiding away all the pain, makes it go away--that it won't exist for her anymore. Out of sight, out of mind in a more philisophical, intangible way. And I'm turning into quite the opposite of her. Recently I've tried to pull everything out of her--every emotion, every feeling, everything. I've been trying to stop her from bottling everything up. Which was exactly what she was attempting to do here. I wasn't going to let her. I wouldn't drop it. And if she knows me at all, she knows I won't.

I wasn't always this way. I haven't always been open with my emotions as I have been with Veronica in the recent years. I used to force myself to hide everything away and keep up a tough exterior. I never let anyone in. I never let anyone know what was really happening with me--what I felt, what I was thinking, nothing. Then I fell for Veronica. That all changed. I used to brood on my own, away from the world, a bottle of some kind of alcohol close by. Now I'm the one who likes to talk it through. Veronica likes to pretend it never happened in the first place. I wish I could pretend, but I can't. Not this time.

Finally I spoke, deciding on a train of conversation that would be acceptable to Veronica. "You're staying here tonight."

Veronica just nodded quietly. "Yeah."

"You can borrow something to wear." I offered as I made toward the door that led to my bedroom. I started to open drawers to find something for her, busying myself so I wouldn't give in to the urge to come right out and say what I wanted to say.

"Logan, I can just..." Veronica began.

"Here." I replied, cutting her off. I handed her an old t-shirt of mine, one I knew she would drown in. "You're uncomfortable, I can tell."

Veronica silently took the shirt from me. She held it to her chest for a moment before she sat down her messenger bag near the foot of my bed and stripped off her jacket. I sat down on my bed, leaning agains my pillows with my legs stretched out. Veronica had long ago lost any inhibitions about changing in front of me. She had sat down on the other side of my bed, with her legs hanging off the edge. She shakingly pulled her shirt over her head. I watched her muscles tense as they strained to allow her movement. Her pale skin was marred by the scattered bruises. The painful looking flaws stood out along her lower back and sides, looking as if she had been kicked...more than once.

I looked away. I wanted to throw up. The fact that some bastard could cause that much damage to someone like Veronica made me sick to my stomach. But I couldn't show that kind of weakness. I had to hold strong for her. I had to take care of her. It was a rare thing that I could actually do something for her--rather than the other way around--and I was going to do my best to help her. I couldn't screw this up. It would only hurt her more. And she had been hurt enough.

I look back at all the problems we had with trust, deciet and pain. Every case she took that put her into danger. Everytime she chose to run head first into a bad situation without any regard for the consequences. I remember the feeling of seeing her under the barrel of a gun. I remember the feeling I got when I found out someone I had called a friend had used me and had intentionally returned the favor by trying to hurt Veronica. I remember it all. And I can admit with all of that, you could still think the girl was untouchable. I knew she wasn't invincible, but she sure seemed it. And at the very least, you would never think that she would be hurt this way by someone she claimed to trust.

I remember how hard it was for her to let herself trust me, and I take on my share of the blame for that. Veronica is a person who does not trust easily. Past betrayal, pain, and untrustworthy behavior--much of which was on my part--has taught her to be suspicious of anyone asking for her trust. I know from my experience that you have to earn her trust, you have to work hard to get it and you have to work hard to keep it. I know that. But with this guy it was different. He seemed to have her trust almost instantaneously. She said he was worth her trust. He was an upstanding guy, honest and loyal. He had a spotless record. I guess it's the ones you believe could do no wrong that can hurt you the most. I mean at least I'm predictable, we're predictable, when it comes to hurt and emptiness. And I could never hurt her like this.

Veronica left her clothes in a pile on the floor and crawled under the covers of my bed. She sat with her back against the head of the bed and drew her blanket covered knees to her chest. She didn't look at me, even as I turned to study her. Her expression was blank, but her downward turned eyes could tell you her life story. I watched her closely as I tried to think of what would be appropriate to say. Finally, she looked up at me. She gave me a weak smile, that I know she had to force out, before she glanced away again.

"Veronica? Do you want to talk about it?" I asked quietly. Silence. "It was him, wasn't it?"

"Yes." Was all she could get out before she burst into tears.

Once the sobs started to vibrate through her body, talking was out of the question. Not that I needed anything else, she had said enough to make me want to slaughter the guy. I carefully pulled her into my arms. Mindful of her injuries, I held her tight against my chest as she cried. I could feel her tremble as her tears soaked into my shirt. I pressed a whisper of a kiss into her hair, before resting my chin on top of her head. We stayed like that for a long time before the tears subsided and her breathing leveled out. I let out a sigh and pulled her closer.

Once I was sure I wouldn't disrupt her sleep with movement, I shifted into a more comfortable position. I moved so we were both laying down. I pulled my blankets up over us and pulled her close to my chest. I finally let my eyes close and I let out a breath of silent relief. She would be okay, I would make sure of it. I slowly drifted off to sleep, enveloped in Veronica's sweet scent and the warmth that radiated from her.

When I woke up, some time in the middle of the night, it was to Veronica's slight stirring. She shifted softly to change positions. I could feel her breath pick up against my chest, as she was roused back into consciousness. I blinked her face into focus, as my eyes adjusted to the dim light that enveloped us. The look she had in her eyes when she looked up at me, it sent chills down my spine. It had been a long time since she looked at me like that. Like I was the only one she wanted. Like I was someone she actually cared for. I couldn't resist that look.

I had leaned down and pressed my lips against hers before any mental inhibition could stop me. I kissed he with everything I had, trying to make up for every kiss I had missed while she was with him. And the feeling that coarsed through me when I felt her respond, made me content. I could settle again. I had her back. The world was right.

When we finally pulled away from each other, we were out of breath. I let out a sigh as I smiled down at her. While Veronica didn't quite have a smile back, I could see it swimming in her eyes. That alone could make me happy.

"Veronica..." I began, hoping now she would be ready to talk about it.

"It was the first time. He had never hit me before." Veronica responded without me verbalizing my question.

"It's just hard...it's just hard to think of you as a person who could get themselves in that kind of situation. You always seem immune." I let out a strangled chuckle.

"He had a temper, but he had never hit me before. I would have left him. You know I wouldn't stand for it." Veronica said softly, in a near whisper. "He wasn't one to be controlled, his temper emphasized that. I know it may sound like an insult after this but...he kind of reminded me of you. In a way, that might have been why I stayed with him for so long."

"I can't stand seeing you hurt. It kills me." I lowered my gaze, going quiet.

"You can't always protect me, Logan. You know that. This isn't your fault." Veronica shook her head as best as she could from her position pressed against my chest. "It's my fault. I should have seen it coming. Some 'detective' I am."

I nearly growled out my response, "This is not your fault. Don't ever say that, ever."

Her eyes widened, but she nodded. "Okay."

"He did this to you. Not the other way around." I replied, "Don't ever think that you brought this on yourself."

"I won't."

"Good." I whispered under my breath, gently kissing her on her forehead.

"Logan..." Veronica sighed as she leaned into my touch.

"We always find a way back to each other, but I hate the circumstances of this time."

"Me too." Veronica smiled weakly.

We were quiet for a while before I spoke again, "I love you, Ronnie."

A moment later, "I love you too, Logan."

"Go to sleep. We'll talk more in the morning." I suggested.

"Okay." Veronica said slowly, yawing quietly emphasizing her response.

It wasn't long before Veronica's breathing evened out. I could feel her breath flutter against my chest. I lay awake staring at my ceiling, with Veronica curled against me, for a long time. I was awake as the morning curled itself into the sky, the light flooding the room. I waited until I thought I could leave without disturbing her.

I let myself move out of her arms, shifting her body so she could settle in the bed alone. I slipped into my bathroom to clean up a bit, then changed my clothes. All the while, I was careful to make only the least amount of noise I could. I kept glancing at her sleeping form as I moved about, to make sure she hadn't woken up. She wouldn't approve of what I was about to do.

I grabbed a piece of paper out of my bedside table and scribbled a note to leave for Veronica. I didn't tell her where I was going or what I was going to do. It didn't really matter if I did or didn't. Once she woke up and found I was gone, she would know. I just said I would be back that I loved her. I laid the note on the pillow next to her head, before I walked out.

I was glad she was safe, safe with me. I could protect her, or I would try my best to do so. But this guy was not going to get away with what he did. She was going to be okay, but that didn't make anything okay. I was going to go "talk" to him.

He should have know that messing with Veronica Mars woudl be bad for his health.

A/N2: This is just a one-shot. There aren't going to be anymore chapters that I can predict. I might continue, but that's not probable. And it's NOT Piz. It's just some guy that isn't a character on the show. He's basically a stand in because I needed someone to use. Anyhoo...R&R. Thanks. -Mac