AN I: So I had this story started on my computer for forever, finally tried to get it out and finish it. I really struggled with the 'voice and tine" of their relationship. Their so witty, I hope I didn't mangle it. I don't own anything, except the mistakes. Those are all mine.

Veronica stared at Logan, tears falling, the salt burning her chapped lips. He was covered in bruises and blood, lying on the floor, one elegant hand wrapped loosely around the mostly empty fifth of liquor.

"I think," he began "I miscalculated with the self-anesthetic." At this Logan tried to raise the bottle to his lips but it slipped through his numb fingers and tipped uselessly onto the plush carpet.

"Huhhh," he slurred, looking at her quizzically. "Did you see that? Me and my innate grace are no match for your talent sucking aura." He tripped over the words a bit, his mouth pouting slightly at his less than stellar control.

Veronica couldn't believe her eyes, desperately didn't want to, but there he was grinning up at her, blood and teeth a ghoulish representation of half chewed peppermints. The words tumbled around her brain, fighting for purchase to be the first out of her mouth. Always blunt, Veronica said the first thing that popped into her mind.

"Oh Logan, what happened."

"Walked into a wall."

"Logan, seriously."

"Fell down the stairs."

"Logan…"

"Ohh I got this, a little trite I know, but I think I have the pizazz to pull it off. Wait for it … wait for it." He rolled over dramatically and peered up at Veronica through half closed eyes. "The dog ate my homework."

Veronica fought back the urge to scream at the incredulity of it all. Instead she crouched down next to Logan, centering her petite frame until they were almost eye level. "You called me remember" she prodded.

"Thought I imagined that," he murmured. "You're not here for a sexy strip tease are you, dance the hula, maybe balance a coconut on your head?"

She just looked at him.

"Okay, definitely imagined that, then."

Logan had always seemed so larger than life to Veronica. He was always there, in her face, present and accounted for; even as an enemy or a friend. She couldn't picture what it would take to bring Logan to his knees. She was however grateful that he had seemed to forget about his earlier phone call and his previous inclination to end it all. She may have mixed and bitter feelings regarding Logan but the implication of his drunken phone call was a bridge she didn't ever want to have to cross.

"Logan, who did this, are we safe here?" she questioned.

He laughed then, bloody spittle dripping down his split lips. God, it was a horrible sound, brittle and empty.

"Yeah," Logan managed to get out around the shaking of his shoulders. "You're safe here."

Veronica noticed he failed to include himself in that statement. She eyed him critically trying to figure out what her first step should be. Hospital was definitely high up on the list. The press would have a field day and she couldn't quite bring herself to do that to Logan.

Bandage him up herself then, have a look see and get a better idea of the damage.

"Logan, I need you to sit up. I need to take a look at your injuries." He looked at her, startled, and for a moment fear raged rampant in his stare. He reached one hand awkwardly to fist in his shirt, keeping it close to his body.

"Nope," he breathed. "Gotta protect my virtue around you, Ronnica. No Logan party pack for you…" He reached his other hand up and waggled his fingers in her face, absently hitting her chin, as he clucked his tongue in an uncoordinated display of disapproval. "No sampling the goods."

Veronica wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Honestly, Logan how much have you had to drink? Do I need to worry about alcohol poisoning?"

"Nope, we Echolls are long time standing alcoholics. I can hold my liquor just fine."

"Well, I remember you being a more affable, happy drunk."

"Now, I'm morosely verbose… or is it verbosely morose. I can never remember." Logan shifted and restlessly sprawled in a sitting position, his lack of grace more from the spinning room then any pain from his wounds. "You should be writing this down," he suggested conversationally. He scooted so they were sitting knees to knees. "My words of wisdom could someday bring you fortune; maybe get out of the 02 district. Reach high Veronica, aim for an 05."

"Uhhh huh," she responded dryly. "Still got your snarky wits around you, I see. Let's get you cleaned up, Logan. Then you can sleep it off."

Logan bit his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. "I forgot to take my shift off earlier, I think it's going to be stuck."

"Oo-kay," Veronica blew out a strained breath and considered the new problem. "Think you can stand up, cause I think a shower would be easiest. We'll just get you and the shirt wet, then it should come off."

"How many times do I have to tell you…no you can't get me naked…and no I will not sleep with you no matter how much you beg me" Logan winked as his head bobbed with the exertion required for movement, slowly he pulled himself to all fours, and then precariously to his knees. "I don't do it for charity, it's an art form, a social contribution if you will."

"Need I remind you, you called me, remember. I'll try and control myself. Come on Lothario, stand up on three, okay." Veronica gingerly grabbed Logan under his arms, hesitant to hit a damaged area and cause him more pain.

"One…two…"

That was as far as they got before Logan turned green and threw up all over Veronica's shoes. She jumped, an aborted scream sounding sharp in her ears, and then shoved the small trashcan by the desk under Logan's retching form.

"Oops," he mumbled. "Sorry."

"Oh, you so owe me, trust me. This is above and beyond the requirements of an old friendship. Do you want me to call Duncan or Dick?" As she spoke, she kicked off her soiled shoes and maneuvered Logan to the shower. Thankfully he had his own adjoining bath off his disgustingly large and spacious room, so they didn't have far to travel.

"Can't call anyone, shouldn't have called you, but…" he trailed off, "I wasn't thinking again."

Veronica leaned Logan against the wall and reached around him to start the shower. Emotions pulled at her, and tears were constantly threatening to fall. God, sometimes she couldn't even remember how it had all gotten this bad, they used to be all such good friends once. Before Lily… Lily would tell her to stop being stupid. Friends help each other. Even old friends, she supposed, and tested the temperature of the water on her fingers before declaring it ready.

"Even with everything, you can still call me if you need me, if you're hurting. Nobody should have to be hurt and alone."

He didn't answer but the look in his eyes was a mixture between shame, pain, and gratitude. T was an odd combination, one she was sure she had never seen from Logan Echolls before.

Getting Logan into the shower was trickier. He was still too inebriated to safely stand on his own so Veronica ended up under the warm spray, head tucked close to his body, hoping to God he wasn't about to vomit on her again. The water cascaded on them both, raining down, plastering their clothes to their skin and filling the stall with thick steam.

"I think your shirt is wet enough now, let's try and get it off, okay."

Whether the alcohol or the shower had zapped his remaining strength, Logan stood passively and unresisting as Veronica tugged his shirt carefully away from his skin. Her breath caught in her throat and she knew her tears mixed in with the water from the shower. She caught her first look at the damage done to his back. There were welts, thin and long. Some were still sluggishly weeping, others starting to scab. All looked red and angry.

Even as big as a jackass as he'd been, nobody deserved this. Veronica's mind was whirling a mile a minute, the marks look deliberated, methodical; like he'd been whipped, repeatedly. She grabbed a washcloth and dabbed at his face, cleaning off the dried blood on his lips and chin. Logan was quiet now, his eyes dark and unreadable. Veronica didn't speak wither, innately recognizing that this time was too open, too vulnerable, for words between them.

Having deemed Logan as clean as she could get him, she twisted and turned off the water. He sluggishly followed her out of the stall and let her wrap him in a large fuzzy towel.

"Stay here, take off your pants. I'm going to get you clean boxers and pants." Not waiting for an answer she turned and walked out of the room and over to Logan's dresser. Shivering in the air-conditioning and her wet clothes, Veronica grabbed Logan some clean things. Handing them into him, she then turned to grab something for herself, just until her clothes dried and she could get Logan situated and then she could go home. She peeled off her wet clothes and shrugged into one of Logan's shirts. It hit her close to her knees and her teeth chattered as she toweled off her hair.

Veronica tried to ignore the fact that she has just showered wither mortal enemy and instead turned to help him into bed. Logan had managed to slid into the sweatpants, his clean boxers lay discarded on the floor.

"Come on Logan, into bed." She had been intending to get Logan on his stomach so she could dress and bandage the wounds on his back. However Logan had other ideas. He slid into bed and pulled Veronica with him. She ended up curled into Logan, head against his heart, with his arms around her and one leg casually thrown over hers. Veronica remembered Lily complaining he liked to cuddle but this was ridiculous.

"Logan," her words were muffled against his damp chest. "Logan," she tried again, poking him. "You do remember this is Veronica Mars in your bed, right?"

His only response was soft snores.

Great, thought Veronica, how to get out of this one.

AN II: Please review, I really really appreciate it! Thank you for taking the time to read my story.