AN I: Hello, I am ashamed at how long it has been between updates. I am so sorry, real life included me starting a new job and the computer getting a mega mean virus on it. But we should be settling back to normal now. So, all mistakes are mine, I own nothing. I am eager for your thoughts, tell me where you want this story to go, what you would like to see. I have a basic outline in my head, but love your ideas too. Happy reading! Thank you for taking the time to read and review!

Veronica sat shivering, huddled on the floor of her cramped and tiny shower. She couldn't stop shaking. The water had long since grown cold, never having had the most reliable water temperatures anyway. Her delicate skin was red from the abusive cleansing she'd given herself trying in vain to remove phantom hands and imagined fingers.

She felt dirty.

Veronica couldn't stop shaking no matter how many times she told herself that Veronica Mars didn't shake, she didn't cry, she sure as hell didn't run away and hide in her shower. What had started as fine tremors running through her limbs as she drove home had grown into full body shudders by the time she tried to find solace in the act of cleaning herself, causing soap to slip through Veronica's fingers and her sodden blond hair to smack against the tiles.

This is crazy, Veronica told herself. The rape happened over a year ago, and she didn't even remember the actual act. She was safe, she was fine, and she was a kick ass bitch in awesome black boots. No one messed with Veronica Mars.

Except Dick's fingers was been bruising, his grip tight, his breath hot against her face. And in that moment all of Veronica's self-made awareness regarding her strength and fortitude slipped away leaving her bare in the stark realization that Dick could do anything he wanted. And Veronica, kick ass or not, couldn't do a thing about it.

He was strong, she was weak.

He was large, she was tiny.

He didn't care about Veronica at all, affording him the ruthless demeanor of the truly rich, and Veronica's Taser had been upstairs.

Veronica moaned as her stomach rolled again, having nothing to throw up, but unhappily moving nonetheless. She laid her forehead on her drawn up knees, letting the water beat down on her neck and back. Her toes were wrinkly, with an almost bluish tint to the nails and skin.

So, this is what shock is…hmmmmm, been here before, though Veronica, as she let loose a hiccupping half laugh. Great, even her thoughts were taking a slightly hysterical edge. That meant she should probably get out, dry off, and try and forget that this ever happened. Except, she was shaking too much to lever herself out of the shower. Veronica could take this memory, she could shove it into her own Pandora's Box of things to never think about. Lily's death and Logan's betrayal were in there, along with Shelly Pomroy's party. If she could do that, maybe she could be fine again, whatever fine was passing for in her vocabulary these days.

Oh God, Logan.

He'd been so hurt and she left him there. He had saved her and she left him. The look in his eyes when she told him she wouldn't leave, as if he couldn't bring himself to believe her. Compared to the look on his face as he had ripped her out of Dick's hands, it had been equally as provoking in the depth of rage displayed across his handsome features. Logan's eyes had looked alive, like they were fighting…..for her.

It had been so long since anyone had been willing to fight for her.

So long since she had had the firestorm that was Logan directed at her with anything more than the malicious intent of late.

More hot tears slipped out, intermingling with the freezing cascade of the shower. Veronica had been so scared, her higher reasoning shutting down, the mantra of get away slamming through her brain with such a ferocity that she'd been halfway home before she even became aware she was driving.

Grasping at Logan's pain like the broken straw it was, Veronica crawled out of the shower on all fours. Her teeth were chattering so hard, she tasted blood, when she accidently caught her bottom lip between them. She took as deep a breath as she could, swallowed once, and then shoving the wet hair out of her eyes.

Veronica stood up.

She braced her weight against the vanity and reached one tremulous hand to turn off the water.

Her dad was going to freak when he got the water bill for this month.

She grabbed her robe and wrapped herself in the giant terry cloth. It was familiar and the warm fuzzy fibers against her abraded skin was exactly what she needed to calm down and focus on someone else's problem.

Veronica was an excellent avoider, the last few hours had not happened because she said they had not. Logan needed her, she still didn't know if he was safe in the house. What if Aaron was there? What if he was hurting Logan right now?

Almost trance like, Veronica walked to her closet. She had a goal, she was going to go to Logan and make sure he was alright. She'd promised him.

Nerveless fingers gripped the chipped handle to the dresser, as she pulled out underwear and socks. Next, she put on her favorite pair of jeans and a tank top, followed by a worn grey Henley, lastly she pulled on her dad's old padre sweatshirt. The added layers of clothing made her feel a sense of protection, not to mention she was still freezing.

Mechanically, Veronica brushed out her hair, and tied it back into a ponytail. She found her shoes and shoved her feet into them, not bothering to tie the fraying laces. It was almost symbolic, dirty frayed laces, dirty frayed life.

Attempting to shake the maudlin off, Veronica turned to her desk, reaching for her purse and keys.

Self-destruct later, help Logan now…

Veronica couldn't verbalize exactly why she felt the burning need to help Logan after everything that had passed between them. Maybe it had been the ripped agony Aaron painted across Logan's skin, or the empty desolate look in his eyes as he admitted to the abuse. All of this aside, the good memories from her years with the fab four, ran gently in her mind. An undercurrent of friendships and first loves. It was almost as if she could hear Lily's voice urging her to go to Logan, whispering,
"You're stronger together Veronica Mars, you need each other."

Oh Lily, strong enough in death to haunt you with the same tenacity she'd shown in life.

"Okay, Lily," murmured Veronica, "I'll go to him. But he's not forgiven yet."

Veronica padded on threadbare carpet down the hallway. She headed towards the door with a clear purpose directing her movements. Slight tremors still intermittently wracked her slim frame, but she ignored them with the single mindedness focus she was so known for.

Veronica pulled the door open and stopped, her momentum crashing down on itself, as shock once again rendered her speechless.

Logan Echolls stood on her front porch, his arms hugging his torso, his expression as unsure of himself as she had ever seen it. Well…this was unexpected. But she could work with this, she didn't have to think, if she was doing.

Stepping back, Veronica gestured Logan in, refusing to flinch at the initial close proximity of another human being. This is Logan, he needs my help, she told herself.

He looked terrible. Bruises were turning purple, blue, and yellow. His self-deprecating smile, looked even more so, with the split in his full bottom lip breaching the classic perfection of his features. Logan's brown eyes were blood shot and puffy, even as he focused them on Veronica.

This was getting awkward, Veronica thought. Somebody better say something. Shifting her weight from foot to foot, she spoke, "I was just coming back over, to check on you."

At the same time as Logan spoke, "Are you alright?"

Their words tumbled into each other, colliding in the awkward space between them. Logan gave a half laugh and reached his hand up to run it through his hair, a gesture completely and totally Logan.

Veronica smiled too, starting to feel more in her depth.

"I was thinking, we need to set up a time line. How long before Aaron's back from set? Because, we need to establish a clear pattern of abuse before we file for emancipation of a minor."

Logan's mouth dropped open slightly in the wake of her blond steamroller routine.

Veronica pressed on, "do you have a lawyer separate from your da…oomph." Her breath whooshed out, as Logan grabbed her up in his arms and pressed her body close to his. Veronica felt the familiar planes of his body, angles and dips she'd relearned over the last day, press into her. Finally her limbs stopped shaking, the moment she made contact with Logan, his body heat chasing away the cold, his strength quieting the shakes.

Veronica gave herself just a minute to rest her head, to pull from Logan, take what she didn't want to admit she so desperately needed.

Re-centering herself, Veronica tilted her head upwards to get Logan's attention.

"Logan," she murmured, delicate half whispers on quickened breath. "We need to figure out what to do."

"Shhhh," he admonished, meeting her eyes. "I was so worried about you, and then you were gone."

"I was here," she answered.

"And I found you," he replied.

"Yes," she agreed, "you did."

Logan leaned forward, infinitesimal inch by inch, until his lips were a hairsbreadth away from Veronica's. Slowly, as if to test her reaction, he brushed his lips over Veronica's, once and then twice, before deepening the kiss. He shifted her weight in his arms, bringing their bodies more align with one another's.

Veronica was still surprised, lost in a torrent of feeling and emotion. On one hand, she was still twitchy from the incident earlier. On the other hand, Logan made her feel safe. And, ohh holy crap, Logan was a phenomenal kisser.

Giving into the sharp whiplash of sudden desire, Veronica groaned into Logan's mouth and let herself feel.

AN: Please review, I can't wait to hear from you. It makes my day, seriously! And thank you so much for reading my writing!