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A Lamb/Veronica fic.
Chapter Two.
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Disclaimer: I still don't own Veronica Mars ... sigh.
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A/N: Thanks for the speedy reviews! I was very surprised to get such fast reviews on both of my Veronica Mars fics, and giddy of course. I'm happy you're liking the story so far, I'll try not to disappoint.
Okay, so in the last chapter, Sheriff Don Lamb saved Veronica's life, shot and killed Mercer, and brought Veronica into the emergency room, where all of her friends and family waited to see if she was okay.
Caught up? Whoo hoo, on with the next chapter!
As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!
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Keith Mars walked back into his daugther's room to see both occupants asleep, and noticing rather quickly that Don Lamb was holding his daughter's hand as she slept.
With a small smile on his face, he quietly exited the room, moving to the nurse's station nearby.
"I'm going to head down to the waiting room to talk to my daughter's friends," he told the nurse at the desk. "Would you mind making sure they're left alone for a while? I think they could both use the rest."
She nodded. "No problem Mr. Mars. We have your cell number incase there's a problem. We recommend you go home and get some sleep as well."
Keith gave her a short nod, then headed towards the elevator's, knowing it was very unlikely he'd be leaving his daughter at the hospital tonight, Sheriff bodyguard or not.
The scene he met when he found the waiting room was just as he expected. High tension, high voices, and not enough space.
"Lower your voices, this is a hospital," he said, getting their attention. He didn't need them fighting with each other right now.
"Mr. Mars, what happened? Is she okay?" Wallace asked.
He was bombarded with several questions like that, and put up both of his hands, silencing them all.
"How about I talk, and then you can ask me questions?"
They all nodded.
"Thank you." He sighed, then took another deep breath. "This is what I know: Veronica apparently discovered that the rapist on campus was Mercer Hayes. She found out who his next victim was, and got to her dorm before him, traded places with her under the covers. She attacked Mr Hayes, stabbed him in the leg with a unicorn horn, apparently, and was able to escape. She made her way to your dorm room," he motioned to Wallace and Piz, "but instead found a person named Moe Flater. He was Mr Hayes' accomplice, and was able to drug her before she realized who he was. Sheriff Lamb was in the right place at exactly the right time, heard the "rape whistle" go off, found Mr Hayes, and when he discovered they were going to kill Veronica, he shot and killed Mr Hayes, took Mr Flater into custody, and brought Veronica here. He saved her life."
Everyone except Parker and Piz looked surprised at this information.
"Right now, she's out of the woods, but she's taken a pretty horrible beating."
He didn't miss the shared look between Logan and Weevil. A look of pure hate, though surprisingly, not towards each other.
"Can we see her?" Mac asked, worried for her friend.
"Not yet. She's sleeping right now, and the doctor's say she needs her rest right now. With her injuries, and the amount of date-rape drug she was given, we don't want to put any strain on her emotionally right now. I'm not going to tell you to go home, because I know most of you wouldn't listen if I did. But you can't see her yet, she needs to rest."
He sighed, looking at the young people before him. "You're going to want to prepare yourselves. It's ... it's not the easiest sight, seeing someone like Veronica lying unconscious in a hospital bed, covered in so many wounds. Let me just say that if the Sheriff hadn't been forced to shoot Mr Hayes, I would have done it myself."
There was a nod of agreement throughout the room.
"So for now, all we can do is wait. And with that in mind, anyone interested in helping me find a bigger coffee machine?"
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Despite the protest from the rest of her body, Veronica opened her eyes. Yep, still too bright, she thought, but blinked a few times anyway, getting used to the light.
The other downside to that, was that her eye was apparently swollen, and blinking hurt after a while.
She let out a groan of annoyance, reminding herself that the next time she took on a rapist, it would be a nice, fluffy, bunny-rapist.
"Veronica? You awake?" someone asked her.
Looking around, she noticed that along with her bed being propped up, instead of lying flat, there was a considerably larger amount of chairs in her room than there had been when she'd fallen asleep.
Turning head slightly to look beside her, she was disappointed to see that Lamb wasn't there, but she turned back to her friends.
"Hey," she said, her voice raspy.
Mac was quick to hold out a glass of water with a straw for her to drink out of.
"Not to self ... next time you get a dislocated shoulder and two broken fingers, make sure they're on the same side," Veronica joked as Mac had to hold the glass for her.
She noticed that none of her friends found that terribly amusing, and sighed. She hated having them see her like this ... weak, helpless, defenseless. Broken.
Only in body, and that heals though.
She looked around the room, noticing the rest of it was occupied with flowers, gift baskets, "get well" teddy bears, and a large, stuffed pony.
"What's all this?" she asked them.
Parker was the one to speak. "The entire campus heard that you found and stopped the rapist, that you saved his next victim. This is barely a chunk of your presents. Your dad has spent most of the morning getting stuff sent over to your house."
Veronica blushed at the gesture.
"Wow ... you mean a mass group of people all like me? What bizarro land did we walk into?" she joked again.
Wallace and Piz stepped forward, stopping in front of her. They looked so tormented, and Veronica didn't know why.
"Vee, we're so sorry," Wallace said. "We shouldn't have left you alone like that. It's our fault that this happened to you, we are so, so sorry."
Piz nodded, looking like he was about to cry.
Veronica shook her head, wincing at the pain in her neck.
"It's not your fault that Mercer was a rapist. It's not your fault that I chose to go after him. It's not your fault that you weren't in your room when I went there, and it's not your fault that I'm in this hospital bed. You did what I asked you to do, and that's all. Nothing to apologize for," she insisted. "Now come on, kiss me better," she said, pointing to her cheek with the hand not caught in a sling.
And so, in succession, all of her friends, including the girls and Weevil, walked forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
When it came to Logan, however, he stopped in front of her, cupping her face with his hand, mindful of the bruise around her eye.
She knew that he probably felt the guiltiest of all, breaking up with her the day she got attacked by a rapist, and he was about to speak when she opened her mouth and silenced him.
"Also not your fault," she said. "You were right, it wasn't working, and this is a shining example of what you didn't want to happen to me, but you couldn't have taken care of me last night. Because even if we were still together, you still would have gone after the first girl by yourself, and I still would have gone after Mercer by myself. So don't sweat it, Echolls. I don't blame you."
Logan smiled sadly at her, nodding once before leaning down and kissing her softly on the cheek.
He went and stood by Dick, who she hadn't noticed until now.
"Dick Casablancas, as I live and breathe," she commented, a small smile playing at the edges of her lips.
"Yep, that's me," he said, moving forwards. "Now none of that pansy-ass cheek stuff, I'm all tongue, baby."
Veronica was saved from what would have most likely been a slop-fest by Keith walking into the room.
"Hey, honey, you're awake," he said, walking up to her and kissing her forehead lightly. "I see you have some guests."
"Yep, lucky me," she said. "Hey, what time is it?"
"It's a little after three in the afternoon," her father answered.
"When do I get to go home?" she wondered.
"They want to keep you here a couple more hours, but assuming all is well, then we can leave," Keith told her.
Veronica nodded slowly, mindful of her neck.
"So, can I assume that rather large pony is from you?" she said, motioning to the gift closest to her bed.
Keith nodded, a smile on his face.
"Hehe ... well it's about time, Pa," she said, grinning up at him despite the pain.
"Anything for my sweetheart," he said. Turning towards the other in the room, he said, "Anyway, the nurse sent me in here to tell you guys you'll have to go back in the waiting room or something, they need to do a "check-up" on Veronica, so we have to scoot."
Veronica waved by to everyone with her right hand, and her dad kissed her forehead once more before leaving.
The nurse came in a minute later.
"Ah yes, I thought it was time for my cold stethoscope," Veronica said as the nurse helped her until her hospital gown.
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"This is just great," Veronica muttered under her breath, hiding in the bathroom.
She had insisted she could dress herself, and she had barely been able to get her underwear on. Now the nurse was way outside the room, and Veronica had no idea how she was going to be able to call Mac or Parker.
So ... she was hiding in the bathroom, perched on the toilet, almost completely naked.
"Well ... it doesn't have cable, but we've got water an a toilet ... I could last at least a week or so," she told herself. "Or until I run out of toilet paper."
"Anyone in here?" came a male voice from outside the bathroom.
"Um ... possibly," she replied.
"Veronica? Are you in the bathroom?"
Now she recognised the voice. Of course. Out of everyone it could have been, of course.
"Well, yeah," she said.
"Are you okay?" Lamb asked her through the door.
"Oh, just a clothing malfunction," she said.
"As in ...?"
She sighed. "I can't get them on."
There was silence on the other side of the door.
"I don't suppose you saw Mac or Parker out there?" she asked.
"No," he replied quietly.
"Of course not," she said. "Well, then I guess I'll see you later."
Lamb paused on the other side of the door, but the gentleman in him couldn't leave her just sitting in there, helpless. And he wasn't about to go running around the hospital, looking for a bunch of teenagers he didn't know.
"Veronica, I'm coming in," he said, and opened the door a fraction of an inch.
"It's fine, really, I can wait," she insisted, but he opened the door all the way, closing it again once he was inside.
He forced himself to look at her face, into her eyes, and no lower.
"Okay, so, uh ... what do you need help with?"
Veronica blushed a deep shade of red, favoring her injured shoulder. "Um, well, pants would be good."
"Okay," he said, and picked up her pants. He slid each of her legs in, then pulled them up her thighs. But he couldn't get them any further unless she stood up. Grabbing either of her arms wasn't an option, and she couldn't exactly squirm herself into standing position with her pants halfway up her legs, in such a cramped space.
Reprimanding himself internally for looking at her naked form, he latched his hands onto her hips, trying not to growl in anger at the rug-burn marks and bruises on her stomach the rapist had given her, and slowly, carefully, lifted her up as though she were made of feather. He finished sliding her pants up, then zipped and snapped them in place.
He turned her around even more carefully, so that her back was to him, and picked up her bra. He slid one strap over her injured shoulder first, then the other, careful not to move her too much, and clasped the bra in place, knowing he would never forget this moment, this image, for the rest of his life, and grateful it hadn't been more of a hassle getting the bra on her.
The shirt, however, was another story. The material was too tight, he couldn't get it on her without hurting her.
They stood there, trying to think of something she could wear for a shirt, when suddenly he took off his jacket.
"What are you doing?" she wondered, afraid to look behind her. Not afraid of him, but of what she might see.
"Getting you a shirt," he said, and took off his outer shirt, then his wife-beater underneath. Repeated the same steps as her bra, he slid in her injured arm/shoulder first, then the one with the broken fingers, and then he pulled the material over her head, grateful that it was big on her, so it didn't pull too much.
"Thanks," she said, turning around.
She blushed again, noticing that he hadn't pulled his shirt back on.
He was caught in a trance, taking in her attire, secretly loving the way his shirt looked on her. It was only until he made his way back up to her eyes that he realized she was still staring at him two. At his chest. At his naked chest.
"Uh, yeah, no problem," he said, pulling on his shirt, then his Sheriff's top.
He opened the bathroom door, stepping out, then helping her back to her bed when he noticed she was limping.
"Your foot too?" he wondered.
"Yeah, I think I sprained it when I was running to Wallace's room," she said, trying and failing to hoist herself back onto the bed.
"Here, let me," he said, and it wasn't as though he'd never carried her before, he'd just never felt so nervous about it.
She carefully put her right arm around his shoulder, and he lifted from her back and under her knees, then walked around the bed, setting her down.
"How's the arm?" he asked, pointing to the one that had been dislocated.
"Not great," she admitted. "It's more stiff now than sore, but if I move it too much it still hurts."
He nodded, grabbing the sling off the chair by her bed and retying it, slipping her arm inside.
Wow ... for the arrogan jerk he's been the last year, he is amazingly kind and gentle right now, Veronica thought as he carefully pulled her hair out from under the sling, then letting her rest back against the pillows.
"Thanks," she said again.
He shrugged. "It's no problem. I'm sure that Echolls kid would have done it if he'd been here. I mean, it's kind of his job right."
"Huh?" she wondered absentmindedly, trying not to think about what it felt like when he carried her.
"I mean, as your boyfriend, it's kind of his job to ... you know ...?"
"Oh," she said. "Well, no, not really. I mean, not anymore."
He looked at her for a second, then understood. "Oh, sorry."
"It's okay, you didn't know." And just like that, she was 14 again. Chatting it up with Deputy Don Lamb.
He sat on the edge of her bed, and they reminisced about all the things they used to do before Lily's death, they talked about what had happened after, he apologized for everything that had happened with her father, and for not believing her when she'd told him she was raped.
"Hey, can I ask you a question?"
She looked over at him. He was now lying on the bed, on his side, holding his head up with one hand, tracing circles on her arm with the other.
"Shoot," she said.
"The uh, the night you were ... raped ... why did you come to me? I mean, after everything that happened, why didn't you go to your father instead?" he wanted to know.
She shook her head slowly. "It's stupid."
He gave her his puppy eyes, and she had to look away, though grinning slightly.
"Come on, Veronica, please? I just want to know."
Veronica sighed. "Well, I'm sure that you remember I had the biggest crush on you back then," she started, and he gaped at her.
"What?"
"No you didn't," he said. I mean, you used to think I was cute, I knew that much, but I don't think you ever really 'liked' me... "I would have noticed. Plus, you were dating that Kane kid."
"Well, yeah, but I liked you before that. I don't know, say I was young and naive, but even after everything that happened with Lily's murder, and by the way Duncan and I were broken up then, and I went to that party to try to prove a point, but then everything happened, and I knew I couldn't tell my dad about it, and Lily was gone, and the only other person in the world that I trusted, looked up to even, was you. I wanted you to comfort me, and tell me everything was going to be okay, and that you were going to catch the son of a bitch who did that to me, but instead ..."
"I told you to go see the wizard," he finished, ashamed.
"Yeah, has anyone ever told you, that's kind of creepy?" Veronica added, trying to ease the mood.
He brought a hand up to her face, pulling a strand of blonde hair back behind her ear. "I can't apologize enough for what I did ... or didn't do, as the case may be. I don't know how I can make it up to you."
Veronica thought for a second. "How about ... dinner and a movie once a week?"
"What?"
She smiled. "That's my price. The cost of my eternal forgiveness. You and me, dinner and a movie, once a week. I miss my friend, and it would be a great way for us to catch up. So, what night works for you?"
He stared at her for a few more seconds, realising she was being serious.
"Uh ... how about thursdays?" he suggested.
She smiled. "Thursdays it is."
He smiled back at her, glancing at his watch.
"Oh, crap, I gotta go," he said, sliding off the bed.
"Oh, uh, okay," Veronica said. "Will you come by the house tomorrow?"
"Maybe," he said, giving her a small smile on his way out.
He'd been gone for a few seconds, and Veronica was smiling, happy that her relationship with the Dep- ... Sheriff, was getting put back together, when he came back through the door.
"Forget something?" she asked him.
He looked embarrassed. "Well, actually the reason I came down here ... I was supposed to see if you remembered anything else from last night?"
The fact that even though I was pretty out of it, your lips on my skin felt amazing?
"Uh, no, nothing to do with the rapist," she told him.
"Okay. See you tomorrow ... maybe."
Veronica smiled. "Bye."
No one noticed Logan standing by the door, around the corner, nor did they notice how long he'd been there, listening.
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Okay, end of chapter two.
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