AN I: Sorry for the delay, our computer wasn't working. I don't own anything and all mistakes are mine. I would be grateful for any reviews and comments. Thanks again for taking time to read my story. Without further adu…..

The room was darker now, the shadows longer. Veronica had watched them grow from her position, curled against Logan with her head on his chest. Logan had one had arm down by her side, almost holding her, and the other arm thrown over his eyes. He was mumbling something about light burning and vampires earlier but he was quiet now. His chest rose and fell in an easy pattern and Veronica assumed he was asleep again.

But Veronica couldn't sleep. Not with the truth doing kamikaze cartwheels in her brain and the picture of Logan looking so defeated pasted against her eyelids no matter how tight she screwed them shut.

So, other than getting Logan some Tylenol and water a few hours ago, she didn't move.

They didn't talk, ignored each other in fact, which was really impressive because they were wrapped around each other. But they did it.

The room was almost deafening with the silence between them and Veronica found herself routinely biting her lips to hold back the million and one questions she wanted to ask Logan.

Was this the only time he'd been hurt? It was Aaron who was hurting him right? It had to be, what with the way Logan seemed to vacillate between hyper inflated love and vengeful hate for the man. But the worst question, the one keeping her from finding solace in sleep was, why the hell had she never noticed? Why had no one noticed?

And what was she going to do about it?

"I can hear you thinking from here, you're hurting my head."

She smirked against his chest, breathing in the scent of his soap against his skin. "Really Logan, I think that was the alcohol."

"No, it's definitely you. Why are you still here anyway? That desperate to get me into bed Mars?" The tone was shades of his normal snark and she could hear the real question hidden underneath.

Veronica sat up, breaking the avoiding eye contact rule they had been operating under the last several hours. "I told you Logan, no one should ever have to be hurt and alone." He looked away and she gripped his chin softly until his eyes met hers. "I want to help you, it's not right what he's doing to you." Even as the words left her mouth, she knew it was going to be too much too soon. His gaze shuttered, his mouth thinned. Logan pushed her out of the way and launched himself across the room, pacing across the carpet.

"What do you even know about it, huh? It happened, big fucking deal. It happened last week and it'll probably happen next month too. It is what it is and you don't know a god damned thing about it."

Veronica stood up too, hands on her hips. "Maybe I don't know about being abused by your father but I know it's wrong." She walked over and stood directly in front of him. "I know it's wrong Logan and it needs to stop."

Sighing Logan willed himself to calm down. "Look, it's not always, it's not even often. Just when I mess up or he has a bad day, you know a bad movie critique or something. I can handle it and once I turn 18 I'm out of here."

It wasn't often she found herself at a loss of words, devoid of purpose, but she didn't know what to say next. She didn't know how to convince Logan he didn't deserve to be hit. They weren't friends, not anymore, not really. He made fun of her and generally made her life a living hell at school. But, she could remember a time when they were friends, when he would climb in through her bedroom window because he said he was bored and Duncan was boring. Or the way he looked trying to teach her and Lily how to surf, the way the salt water tasted on her tongue and the feel of the warm sun soaking into her skin. How graceful he was and charismatic, and how if he was your friend you came first.

Until you weren't. She spoke without really meaning to, the words welling up from some hidden crevice in her soul. And that was a first, usually she planned out everything. But she realized she was speaking even as her mind stubbornly fought against the ensuing conversation.

"I know what it's like to be hurt and scared and alone. To look into the mirror and realize you will never be the same again. I know what it's like to be damaged." Now it was her turn to look at the floor, the wall, the space by the closet….anywhere but at the boy standing in from of her.

"Who hurt you?" Logan's voice was low and dangerous, almost more growl than anything. It sent a warm feeling coursing through her body, settling in her chest. But that tone couldn't be meant for her, they weren't friends.

"You're missing the point Logan, I understand, and I want to help."

"I don't think I am, who hurt you?" Logan asked again practically biting the words.

Feeling backed into a corner, emotionally and physically, Veronica yelled "who hurt you?"

"See not very much fun, being asked the questions. Not as much fun as being Detective Barbie."

"Jackass."

"Mini ho."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Throwing her hands up, growling in frustration, Veronica stomped back over to the bed and threw herself down.

"Why won't you leave, isn't your dad missing you?"

"Go away, I'm not talking to you."

Logan snorted in disbelief, "this is my room, my house, my shirt actually. You go away, maybe I'm not talking to you."

"Make me"

"Seriously," Logan sighed and flopped down on the bed next to Veronica. "You know," he mused, "this is the longest I've ever spent in bed with a woman and not slept with her."

"Jerk," Instinctively Veronica slapped him in the shoulder, regretting her action when he groaned.

"Owwww, Batilda. I thought we established I'm hurting here."

"Sorry," Veronica muttered trying not to laugh.

Logan shifted on his side, facing Veronica. His eyes were sparkling. "Kiss it and make it better?" he asked.

A warm flush crept up Veronica's body and she flopped around facing the other direction. "Not on your life," she threw over her shoulder completely missing the way Logan was staring at her tee-shirt clad body.

Just then Veronica's stomach chose that moment to do the talking for her, it growled, loudly and awkwardly. She could feel her cheeks heating up the longer the noise went on.

Logan burst out laughing, holding his aching ribs with his arms. "Only you Veronica. I forgot how often we needed to feed you and how much you could fit into that tiny little body."

Veronica shifted to get up and leave. All the emotions and feeling and awkward conversations were making it difficult to think. She would go, take a moment to collect herself, arm herself with her clothes instead of Logan's, and then come back and fight the good fight. She knew now and nothing would change that but Logan didn't have to make it so difficult

"Fine, you win. I'm leaving, but I'm coming back because we need to deal with this." Her voice trailed off into a surprise squeak as her feet left the floor. Suddenly she was in Logan's arms as he effortlessly carried her out of his room and towards the kitchen.

"What," he asked? "Your legs are short and I'm hungry too. Besides, if you leave now in my shirt and nothing else the rumor mill will run itself dry trying to explain your indecent tryst with the infamous Logan Echolls. Eat and we'll wash your clothes. You can leave later under the cover of darkness and all that."

It was on the tip of her tongue to scratch and claw and demand to be put down, but she remembered how often Logan and Duncan used to pick her up and cart her places one crazy whim at a time. And she was hungry, ravenous actually. Maybe he did have a point about the clothes. Wait….. "You know how to do laundry?"

Logan set her on the kitchen counter, laughing. "No, but you do," he answered honestly.

Veronica inwardly groaned, even if he did have a point. She watched him move around the kitchen, getting out the makings for an ice cream extravaganza. Her eyes burned and her throat felt clogged with the memoires of how often the four of them used to pass the time laughing and eating ice cream. He must have remembered too because Logan looked at her and nodded once before resuming his task.

"Dad's out of town," Veronica offered in response to his earlier question.

Logan looked up in surprise. "And he left you all alone by yourself?"

"Well. We gotta eat, he goes where the bail jumpers go. Besides your parents left you here by yourself."

"That's different," protested Logan. He held up the hand not holding the ice cream scoop and proceeded to tick the points off using his fingers. "One, I've been left behind my whole life, when they go to movie locations. It's no big deal. Two, the gate locks and we have security. Three I'm not 5 feet tall."

"I take offense to that, I'm 5 ft 2. And I have Backup and my Taser. It's all the security I need." Logan just looked at her but refrained from commenting. He put the ice cream back in the freezer and walking over, handed Veronica her bowl. Veronica tried not to notice the loose limbed graceful way he moved, or the way the sweat pants hung low on his hips. She squirmed, kicking her legs against the cabinets, hoping he didn't notice. Grateful for something to do, she shoved a spoonful of deliciousness in her mouth moaning at the awesome taste.

Veronica peeked a look at Logan over the rim of her bowl and noticed now he was the one shifting awkwardly. It was too much, too many memories and emotions. The horror of his secret. Fighting with Logan. She was no longer hungry and she set the ice cream down.

"What are we going to do Logan?"

AN II: Thanks for reading, please leave a comment on your way out!