S E L F I S H

"We are selfish when we are exclusively or predominantly concerned with the good for ourselves. We are altruistic when we are exclusively or predominantly concerned with the good of others."
-Mortimer Adler

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He'd been selfish.

Self-centered. Egotistic.

Every way he saw it, he discovered his flaw. He been too damned selfish to think of anything but him. He had just wanted the pain to stop, to make everything stop. The worry, the fear, the dread, the laughter, the joy, the love, it all had to stop.

He'd broken up with her because he wanted the pain to stop. Except that afterwards he felt like there was a deep chasm inside of him, just a swirling vortex that was never filled. It only got worse once he saw her at the Pi-Sig party. He wasn't naïve, he had seen the add in the newspaper and he had attended the party, partially because of Dick and partially because he knew she would turn up. And all of him screamed that he still had to protect her.

The problem was that Veronica didn't appreciate being protected. She would much rather do things her way and on her own, consequences be damned.

But after her close call with the rapist before, he had hoped that she would have learned. In truth it might just have spurned her on even more. That was the thing about Veronica, she was too curious for her own good and it always caused him an undo amount of worry.

He'd left the party in search of the supposed girl who was to be raped. Wallace had accompanied him. It had felt good, to do something to help. But he never should have left.

If he had stayed things might have turned out different. But they didn't.

Some girl had been talking about the rapist getting caught in the hallway. He had approached her and asked what had happened, having never found the rapist with the supposed girl. She had wasted no time in telling him saying informing cute boys was her pleasure.

He had tolerated her to get the information. The rapist had been caught, by that detective girl. It was something with a V, the one that everyone was constantly hating and loving. Because first she got the Theta Zetas den mother in trouble and then she had been for finding the rapist yet cleared the suspected Pi-Sigs of any rape charges.

It was surprising how she hadn't passed out from lack of oxygen yet.

Eventually she returned to how the rapist was found. Apparently the victim was someone little sister, who had used her older sister's I.D. for beer access. After a few too many, one with a trace of GHB, she'd been taken home by the Safe Ride Home cart for the night and back to her dorm room. Not before good Samaritan Moe Flater gave her a drink of coffee, laced with GHB. He'd then called the rapist who went in search of the girl.

But instead of finding the laced girl, he found the detective girl. Victoria, Vicky, Vern, Veronica. Veronica, yes that was her name. She had tasered him before trying to leave. They had had a tussle and she'd stabbed him with a unicorn, apparently something the almost-raped-girl had a thing for. Veronica had escaped narrowly and run down the hallway to collapse at the feet of none other than Moe.

He had taken her in and given her coffee, laced with GHB. He called the 'cops' to report the rape and then left, locking the door. The rapist and Moe had lost Veronica to a closet and they had another tussle when her cell phone gave away her position. She'd screamed and blew the rape whistle people had issued that day. A previous rape victim, Parker, had heard her and roused others from their dorms and eventually found Veronica. Veronica had found the rapist, and turns out she was right all along, it was Mercer Hayes.

Once Logan heard this his blood literally boiled. And worst was he heard this all from some random girl. Not even a phone call from anyone to tell him what had happened.

Mercer had been his friend. His friend had tried to hurt Veronica, who he still loved despite breaking things off with her. He would probably never forgive himself for what had happened to her, because of him and his friend.

He had been selfish.

He could see that now.

It wasn't a mistake he would make again, not when it came to someone he cared about. Not when it was someone who had been hurt and was possibly going to be hurt worse on account of someone he had been friends with. It didn't matter than his faith in people was slipping farther, he knew a few that he could trust.

He'd been selfish. Thinking about himself, and stopping the pain when he should have thought more about her. In truth when she hadn't picked up his call in the cafeteria, he'd been hurt. It was like a blow to his abdomen. He'd wanted to hurt her and stop his own hurt, and his eyes sought only one way to fulfill both requirements.

Mercer Hayes owed him big. He had taken him to Mexico with him, not to mention covering up for him after he'd set the hotel on fire. He had asked Veronica to prove his friend's innocence from the rape charge and she had. There were more things, but they didn't matter. He'd tallied them all up in his head, and decided that it was time that Mercer paid the price.

An aluminum baseball bat lay in his closet, ready and waiting. A few strides and it sat smoothly against his palm. Then he'd gone out to his car and ignited the engine, driving it downtown. He stopped and parked when he found a police car outside a local diner. Walking the few cement squares he didn't both checking the large glass to his left, he knew they were inside. Raising the bat, it came crashing down upon the windshield of the car, shattering it.

The cops ran out faster than he'd thought possible. He didn't resist. He allowed them to slam him against the car and roughly encase both his wrists with metal. They shoved him into the back seat, with its caged appearance. The uniforms had been forced to wipe the glass fragments from their seat before setting off to the station.

It had taken countless minutes, hours even for them to finish processing him completely. It wasn't fast enough.

Finally they led him by the elbow to the holding cell he'd visited several times before. He noticed Mercer lying on the bottom bunk, with a bloodied bandage around his thigh. Moe was on the top bunk most likely worrying about what was going to happen to them next. Personally Logan couldn't care less about Moe, he wasn't the one.

Metal bars slammed shut, locking the three of them in together for the night. Mercer had visibly paled as he sat up, looking straight at Logan.

Logan had kept calm the whole time, keeping himself in check. He clenched his fist, his fingernails making small half-moon indentations in his skin. But he didn't care, he welcomed the pain.

Mercer owed him, and it was high time he paid up, with interest.

This time Logan wasn't thinking any about himself. He was thinking of one person, and only one person with two emotions battling to the forefront of his mind. Love. Hate. One was directed at the person he couldn't stop thinking about while the other was projected at the things before him now. Things had become clearer as the two emotions worked with each other, fueling one another on. He wasn't being selfish now; he was being quite selfless and altruistic. There was only one person on his mind.

Veronica.