Title: With Silence and Tears (1/?)

Pairing: Logan/Veronica, Piz/Veronica (brief)

Rating: M

Spoilers: Through 3x20, The Bitch is Back. Set right after the finale.

Word Count: 3,948

Chapter Summary: "She felt endless pangs of guilt surging though her body…because somehow, someway, she knew that she was probably to blame for this."

Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars or any of the characters in the fic.

A.N.: This is my first fanfic ever, so please don't crush my newbie spirit when you write your reviews. That being said, constructive criticism is encouraged.

In secret we met—
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?—
With silence and tears.

"When We to Parted" – by Lord Byron

Chapter 1: The Guilt of the Present

It was ten after two in the morning. Veronica was resting in her bed, warmly wrapped up in her favorite quilt. The moonlight shining through the window in the foyer had crept into her bedroom, illuminating various knickknacks on her desk. The unicorn music box that her mother had left her years ago was in full light, mocking her in the silent darkness of her room. The image of Veronica's mother suddenly filled her mind. She was probably drunk off her ass somewhere, sleeping in a gutter.

Veronica's eyebrows narrowed, as she let out an angry huff. Her blank expression soon replaced by an ugly scowl. She was half right anyway. She knew where her mother was, and frankly she couldn't give a fuck. Her father, on the other hand, still seemed to care a bit about his former wife's well-being. At the very least, he pretended to care, if only for his daughter's sake. Either way, when the mother of his child had called him saying that she was in trouble, he had come a' running.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was yesterday, voting day. Veronica was in her Saturn, jamming to a Rilo Kiley song on her way to cast her vote for sheriff. Just as the chorus started to play her cell phone rang loudly, jolting her back to reality. She hastily turned the volume knob counterclockwise. The music fading quickly as she fumbled in her messenger bag, searching for her phone. Seconds later she had her cell to her ear.

"Hello?" she answered loudly.

"Veronica, it's dad," he replied, struggling to hear her amidst the background noise.

She quickly rolled up the windows. "Hey Pops, on my way to vote. Still not sure who I'm voting for, I figure I could go with the jackass or the smartass. It's a toss up really." she joked.

"Ha ha, very cute," he paused. "Listen kiddo, something came up and I have to go away for a day or two," he added, too nonchalantly.

Despite his best effort, Veronica noticed the anxious inflection in his voice. Something was wrong. Why would he leave right around election time? It's not like had to chase some bail jumper. He hadn't taken any cases at the office in months and the crime spree in Neptune was dying down. It didn't make sense.

"What's up? You and Alicia back together and going to Vegas to get hitched?" she laughed at her joke and then listened carefully for his response.

"Hey, what happens in Vegas…well, you know the rest."

"Yeah, I know…" she moved her cell phone to her other ear. "So really dad, what's this about?" she asked, her voice calm and steady.

He took a long breath, then exhaled slowly. There was really no point in lying to her. She was a Mars after all, and secrets never stayed secret for very long. Not in their household anyway.

"It's your mother, Veronica. She's in a bit of trouble…but it's nothing I can't handle," he reassured her.

"Oh God! What did she drink herself to death this time?" she snapped.

"Veronica" he scolded her. "Look, I know this is a bad time, what with the election and all…but I have to do this and-" He was interrupted by a series of loud bangs. He turned to see a largely built young man staring at him through the glass of the phone booth. Keith nodded as the man pointed dramatically as his watch.

"Dad, what was-?" she mumbled worriedly.

"Listen honey, I have to go right now. But I'll call you when I'm on my way home, okay? I love you." He hung up before she had time to respond.

Veronica threw her phone onto the passenger seat in annoyance. She let out a bitter laugh, nostrils flaring as she shook her head in the negative. Her nails dug into the plush fabric of the steering wheel before she let out a shallow breath, fixing her fiery eyes on the road ahead.

XXXXXXXXXX

Snapping out of her daydream, Veronica gently tugged the edges of the cotton coverlet up over her bare shoulders as she stared at the ceiling. The fan above her was rocking slightly, creating a faint hum as the blades turned rhythmically, hypnotically.

She let out a jagged breath as she banged her fists roughly against her mattress, hearing the water underneath swoosh against its rubbery confines. She had been laying there for nearly two hours and she had yet to fall asleep.

To say that she was exhausted was an understatement. She was beyond exhausted. Yesterday had been one of the most eventful days of her life. And in nineteen years of existence, Veronica Mars had already endured more than her fair share of "eventful" days. Yes, yesterday was definitely on the top-five list.

"Oh my god! Mr. Sandman, where are you? You're supposed to be bringing me a dream…isn't that how the song goes?" she huffed.

She was being childish. Blaming fictional characters for her problems. She knew why she couldn't sleep. She knew what she had done. She had screwed up. And this time, someone else was going to take the fall. Someone she loved more than anything in this world.

"I'm so sorry dad." she whispered in the silence of her room.

Sure, the ballots hadn't actually been tallied yet and he could still come out on top. Yeah, so some voters might have read the article yesterday that said her dad had tampered with evidence. But people don't always believe what they read in the newspaper. Right?

God. Who was she kidding? If she had learned anything from living in Neptune it was that people are sheep – and everybody loves to blame somebody. It was like that when her dad had accused Jake Kane of murdering Lilly nearly four years ago. The whole town had turned their back on him. And this time…she was sure most of them would do it again. Yes. People are sheep. That's just reality.

So that's it. She would deal with it. And if worst came to worse and Vinnie Van Lowe won, they'd still have Mars Investigations. She was sure the extra daddy-daughter time would brighten his days a little. Oh, who was she fooling? He loved being Sheriff. Okay, that was it. When her dad got home tomorrow, she would be doing some serious graveling. As for now, she figured she'd just keep basking in the guilt.

"That's it Veronica, breathe it in."

Oh yeah, and what about that other thing? There was no way in hell she was going to sleep when every other time she closed her eyes she saw his face, felt his hands on her body.

Fuck. She couldn't do this now. Not again. She needed to stop analyzing her mistakes and at least try to make things right. A mistake. Yes, it was just a mistake. A minor err in judgment. It was nothing. It meant nothing.

Okay, maybe it was a major mistake - a major, mind-blowing, earth shattering mistake - but a mistake nonetheless. Veronica shifted slowly on her side as the images from hours ago came rushing back, flooding her mind.

XXXXXXXXXX

Veronica had gone to Logan's hotel room immediately after voting. She had convinced herself that the only reason for her visit was to warn him about Gory Sorokin. Logan had stood up for her in the cafeteria just a little over twenty-four hours ago. After publicly humiliating Gory, he had sworn that Logan would pay for his actions. Later that day, Veronica made a metal note to fill Logan in on Gory and the Castle. She could at least provide him with some ammo before the inevitable showdown began.

She inhaled sharply as she raised her fist in the air and knocked forcefully. She was still fuming from the conversation she'd had with her father. Taking another deep breath, Veronica reminded herself not to project her anger onto Logan. Sure, she was still upset about the Piz incident but she hadn't come here to fight. Not this time.

Veronica anxiously ran her hands through her damp hair, gently pushing a wayward strand back behind her ear. Her hands quickly fell to her sides when she heard footsteps approaching. Her azure eyes shot up as the door was abruptly flung open. Logan was standing in the doorway, shirtless, a half eaten apple in his hand. Veronica immediately noticed the bewildered look on his face. They stood in silence for a few moments.

He stepped aside to let her in. "Dick's not here," he joked, hoping to break the awkward quiet between them.

"I didn't come for Dick," she retorted dryly, slipping past Logan and into the room.

Logan shut the door behind her. He opened his mouth to respond but then though it better to keep his jokes to himself. "So, why are you here?" he paused. "What? Come to lecture me for hitting that guy in the cafeteria? You just decide that it wasn't hot, but wrong? I should be punished, right?" he laughed, his sarcasm tinged with resentment.

Veronica shot him a glare. "Excuse me?" she bit back, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Oh please Veronica," he spat. When he saw the confused expression on her face he continued. "If looks could fuck, I'd be sore for days, after that look you gave me in the caf." He stepped forward, punctuating his words.

Veronica automatically stepped back. "Jesus Logan, you're so fucking full of yourself," she seethed.

"What? Did I strike a nerve? God, who knew Veronica Mars had feelings? You know…other than anger." He tossed his apple in the trash can irritably.

An annoyed laugh escaped her. "You're such an ass...you'll never change," she huffed, turning toward the door and grabbing the knob.

When she turned back around to face him, ready to fire back her last insult, his hand was on hers. His bare chest was pressing hard against her as he stared down at her. He was livid, his dark eyes burning into hers, for what seemed to be an eternity.

She hastily looked away, breaking his spell. "Logan, stop! You're hurting my hand!" She pushed against his chest with her free hand. He grabbed her wrist, pinning it above her head.

Veronica resisted, striving to get free. "Logan! What the fuck do you think you're doing? Let me go! Now!" she yelled, her eyes traveling up to meet his. He was still gazing at her.

Veronica suddenly stopped talking, she stopped struggling. There was something in his eyes: pain, anger, resentment and something else. Something she couldn't quite place. What was it? Lust…Love?

Before she could decide she felt his mouth on hers, his hands cupping her face. Veronica instantly responded, her body molding into his.

After a few moments, she quickly pulled away. Panting, she took a cautious step back. Her eyes drifted to the floor shamefully as she spoke. "Logan, don't. I can't do this. I have a…I can't-"

He shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. "Fine." A look of disappointment washed over his face. He turned away and Veronica grabbed his arm. He spun around as she pulled him down into a deep kiss.

When she felt his hot mouth on her cool, damp neck…she knew what she was doing. When she felt his warm hand travel to the small of her back, pressing her waist into his…she knew what she was doing. Oh god, she knew what she was doing. And on some level, she knew it was wrong. But right now, in that moment, she chose not to care. And really, who could blame her? It had been so long since she had felt like this. Passionate. On fire. Alive.

Sure, she and Piz had had a number of heated make out sessions but his uncertain touch had been more of a turnoff than anything else. Logan, on the other hand, was brimming over with confidence, his sure hands eliciting muddled sounds from Veronica's throat.

God, he was intoxicating - like the sweet taste of liquor to an alcoholic that had been sober for so long. Too long. Yes, if Logan Echolls was her metaphorical tequila, she was going to drink him in, shot after shot until her heart was racing and her head was spinning. She'd deal with the inevitable head pounding, nauseating hangover of guilt later. But not now.

Her thoughts rapidly evaporated when Logan ran his tongue over her pulse point, biting her skin lightly. Veronica let out an approving gasp, digging her nails into his bare shoulders.

Logan moved forward, pushing her against the wall. Veronica gasped when her head hit the plaster. Logan made his apology by trailing soft kisses down her neck as he ran his hands over her chest. He let out a frustrated groan when he felt the thick fabric covering her. He was contemplating the notion of ripping it off when Veronica mumbled something in his ear.

"What?" he panted into her neck.

"Rip…rip it off," she stammered, raking her nails down his stomach before unbuttoning his jeans.

XXXXXXXXXX

All of a sudden, Veronica's fan creaked loudly, sending her spiraling back to reality. She inhaled sharply before shamefully burying her face in her hands. The feel of her cool palms on her warm face told her that her face was slightly flushed and her shame intensify.

She shook her head, in a mock attempt to shake away her thoughts. She turned and glanced at her alarm clock again. It was now forty-six after two. She was grateful when she heard some noises coming from the street outside of her apartment complex. Finally, a distraction - something to take her mind off of him. Realizing that the sounds were approaching her apartment, Veronica sat up, a quizzical expression on her face.

She listened carefully, hearing two muffled voices but was unable to decipher their words. Then, she heard a loud thud outside of the door. Veronica slowly walked out of her room and saw Backup standing by the window, ears perked.

"Backup, come here boy." He obediently walked over to her. "And if there's a flaming pile of dog shit on the 'welcome mat' then I'll let you loose and you can play chew toy with their faces, sound good?" Backup barked in agreement.

The two voices trailed off in the distance and then a car engine started to rev. The sound of tires screeching quickly followed.

When Veronica assumed that the mystery men had left, she moved to open the door. "And now to see what lies behind door number one," she whispered.

She opened the door gradually. It was pitch black outside but she could see a figure lain on the pavement in front of her apartment. Backup was growling and she motioned for him to stay put at the door. "Backup, be cool."

She moved closer to the body and quickly registered that the figure was indeed male. He was facedown on the ground and Veronica noticed that he was clad in his boxers alone. His back was bruised and there were deep, long, vertical gashes on his back. He looked as if he had been whipped repeatedly. His head had a large gash in the back of it and there was a pool of blood rapidly gathering underneath his right leg.

Peering into the darkness, she could see what appeared to be a white Poocha bead necklace snugly wrapped around his neck. It couldn't be him, she thought. It had to be someone else.

Fearing for the worst, Veronica turned him over. Her mind immediately failed her. She was in utter shock as she frantically called out his name.

"Oh my god, Logan! Logan, Logan…can you hear me? She quickly came to her senses and checked for a pulse. She heard a faint noise. It was there. It was faint and slow, but it was there. Tears streamed down her face as she raced into the apartment and dialed 911. Veronica gave them her address as plainly as she could.

"Ok, fine. Just hurry, he's…I…I…don't know how much longer he can hold on." She hung up forcefully, grabbed some dish towels and raced back out to Logan.

"Logan? Logan? Stay with me…okay? Help is on the way…pl…please just hold on," she stammered as she tried to control her breathing.

Veronica quickly tied one of the towels around the wound on Logan's leg. Within seconds the towel was soaked in his blood. She gently cradled his head in her arm, pressing the cloth against the gash in his head. She softly stroked his bruised and bleeding face. Her tears fell down as she tried to assure him that he'd be fine.

Checking for more injuries, Veronica gave his body a once-over. Her eyes locked on his abdomen when she noticed swirls and trails of dried blood. She lightly placed Logan's head back down on the ground, positioning herself so that she could read the words.

There was a message on Logan's chest written in his blood, it read: Present for Veronica Mars. Feel guilty?

Veronica stared blankly at the message for a minute until she heard a groan. She instantly snapped out of it and met Logan's eyes. His eye lids fluttered open briefly before closing and remaining shut.

"Logan, Logan? No. No don't do this to me. Stay with me," she pleaded. Veronica checked his pulse again. It was still there. She cradled his head again and pressed the towel harder against his head. Veronica felt so helpless…and angry and shocked and anxious and scared. And then there was that other thing.

Guilt.

She felt endless pangs of guilt surging though her body…because somehow, someway, she knew that she was probably to blame for this.

But somehow, someway, she knew that she would exact her revenge. She could make it right. She would make it right. And from that resolution, she drew strength. The last of her tears fell as she wiped her face. Logan would be okay. He had to be.

For once, he needed her. He needed to be saved.

Veronica suddenly looked up. She could hear sirens approaching. Then, she looked back down at Logan. Her gaze was intense; she wasn't hiding anything from him. All of her emotions had played out across her face in the last few minutes. She had been vulnerable and scared and weak the moment that she saw him lain there. It was all he had ever wanted, for her to open up to him, to show him all of her. And now that she finally did…he was unconscious for it all.

And in that moment she realized that she still loved him. She had loved him for so long now but why hadn't she ever realized how deep her love for him really was? Why now? One more tear fell as she pondered that last thought. God, was it too late for them now?

Two paramedics quickly approached them with a stretcher. "We're not too late are we?" asked the older of the two male medics.

"No. No, you're not" she spat out.

They readily got Logan onto the cold, white stretcher and inside of the ambulance. Veronica thoughtlessly climbed in the back of the vehicle with Logan. The medics begin to work on him as they sped to the hospital while Veronica kept squeezing Logan's hand.

She whispered, "It's never too late" under her breath before lowering her head and kissing him gently on the forehead.

XXXXXXXXXX

Veronica sat anxiously in the cold empty Waiting Room of the hospital. She nervously eyed the clock on the wall as she sat, knees pressed to her stomach. It had been three hours and thirty-seven minutes since Logan had been wheeled into the OR. And no one had bothered to keep her posted on his condition.

She unconsciously rubbed her bare arms. After feeling the apparent goose bumps she mumbled something in frustration about forgetting to grab a sweater. And then, she silently cursed herself for complaining about something as minute as being a little cold when Logan was suffering from serious and most likely life threatening injuries.

Damn her.

She glanced over at the TV sitting in the corner. Apparently, the hospital personnel thought that it would be a good idea to keep the station set on TNT. A Walk to Remember was playing. Veronica had seen the movie years ago and not thought much of it. Hollywood always exaggerated teenage love stories. Love wasn't ever that easy and it wasn't ever that hard. She could never relate.

But for some reason, at that exact moment, she must have felt exactly what Shane West's character was feeling. Both of them sitting in a hospital, waiting and alone. She could relate…and that feeling bothered her more than the cold air nipping at her bare skin.

Trying to shake away the thought, Veronica scanned the room once more. Her eyes darted back over to the clock. That was it. She was tired of waiting. She was going see Logan, even if she had to pose as a doctor to do it. Hell, she'd seen a few episodes of Grey's Anatomy, if questioned, she could lie. If the situation called for it, Veronica Mars could bullshit with the best of them.

Determined, she got up from her chair and exited the room. She scanned the halls. With the exception of a nurse reading a copy of "Cosmo" and a janitor mopping the floor, the hallway was more or less empty. Walking in the direction of the OR, Veronica turned a corner, bumping into a nurse. She was a redhead, probably in her early forties. And she was also one of Logan's nurses. Veronica froze in her tracks as she tried to make sense of the remorseful expression on the woman's face.

"Miss Mars? Correct?" the nurse inquired, her tone chillingly robotic.

"Yes. How is he?" she chocked out the last word as she tried to fight a sudden wave of tears threatening to fall.

"You might want to sit down Miss Mars…" she replied in the same cold tenor.

"It's Veronica and I've been sitting for hours. Now please just answer my fucking question. Can you do that for me Big Red?" Veronica crossed her arms resolutely as she stared up at the nurse. She didn't care if she was being rude. She had waited long enough to see if Logan was okay. She'd be damned if this woman made her wait any longer.

"Miss Ma-…Veronica. Mr. Echolls has suffered major head trauma and many other injuries. He lost a lot of blood but he is more or less stable…for now."

"Okay, well can I see him now? I need to see him now!" she nearly shouted the second half of her statement.

"We are giving him drugs to keep him unconscious for a little while, until his body is ready to consciously deal with the enormous amount of shock and trauma that it has endured."

Veronica's head was spinning. She was sure she had endured a bit of shock tonight as well. Emotional shock albeit, but shock nonetheless.

Veronica sighed as she uncrossed her arms. Logan was alive. He was still in pain and unconscious but he was alive. He was no longer lain helplessly on the pavement in front of her door. No. Now he was resting in a hospital bed getting the help that he needed. She had done her part.

Veronica sighed. "Okay, thank you. Is there a phone anywhere around here?"

"Yes, down the hall and to your left."

"Thanks," Veronica breathed as she turned and walked away.

XXXXXXXXXX