Saved. //McNamawyer.

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Considering I haven't written it in a while, I decided to do this! Woo!

Sorry for all the angst, my depressed ass is having mentality issues atm.



Veronica was walking alongside her girlfriend, Heather McNamara, who was rambling about her cheer squad and how there was a big game coming up and she was ready and pumped for it, as she spotted a nearby store. You see, Mac liked to do parkour in her spare time, so she'd often rip her jeans. She decided to get some more, as she kissed Veronica's tanned cheek with a giggle, “I gotta get some new jeans, wait here, Bluebird!” She snickered.

“Hey! Don't call me that!” the brunette groaned, but before she had gotten halfway through her whining, Heather had already disappeared into the store. She chuckled quietly, shaking her head with a small, soft grin. What she didn't see, however, was a cloaked figure sneak up behind her, clasping their masculine hands over her mouth as they dragged her back into the alleyway, shoving her up against the wall, smirking. Veronica recognized their face instantly. It was an on-the-run criminal, Jason Ryan Dean, J.D in other words. He went to their high school for a year or so, but after the attempted murder of Heather Chandler, Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney, he vanished without a trace. Luckily those three survived. Alas, he he was, looking up at her with a sadistic grin.

“Veronica Barrett Sawyer,” He chuckled, ramming her back into the wall, “We meet again,” He continued. The blue clad girl uselessly kicked out at him, ignoring a dull pain in her lower back, “I've been thinking, done some research. It seems you went with Heather Chandler's second hand bitch, huh?” He snickered, “You can't possibly be happy, can you?” Veronica glared daggers at him.

“I am very happy, and atleast she didn't manipulate me!” She barked, as J.D rolled his eyes with a huff.

“Oh, please, I was… merely advising,” He concluded.

“Well if that's your definition of advising, you can shove it up your ass and choke on it.”

“Sassy as always, are we?” He tutted, pulling out a knife, “Tsk tsk, we're going to have to sort that, sweetheart.”

“Don't call me that, you dick!”

“Admit it, you liked riding me.”

“Only after I could find your micro-dick, genius,” She growled, “It would help if two thirds of it wasn't shoved up your ass and into your personality.”

Jason was getting very pissed now. He wanted Veronica to share his suffering. They were meant to be one, their love was God. He snarled harshly, yanking her up by the collar and off of the wall, “Words hurt, Ronnie,” He faked a sad expression. Veronica merely scoffed.

“Well, so does abuse!”

“Since you keep talking about abuse so much, you can have it!” He roared, digging the knife into her arm and slashing it open. The brunette thrashed in his grip, tears spilling from her eyes as he kept a hand over her mouth to prevent being detected. She screeched into his hand but he only continued, digging the bloody blade into her other arm, chuckling, “You really don't know when to stop, do you—” He began, but was rudely cut off when Veronica bit his hand and screamed at the top of her lungs.



Heather McNamara exited the small thrift shop, looking around for Veronica, confused. The brunette would never run off like this, was she that bad? No, no, that couldn't be it. She stood in a dazed confusion until she heard a high pitched yell.


From that statement, Mac could tell exactly who it was. Veronica. She was in trouble, and the blonde knew that. Dropping her bags, she races against time, hearing muffled screams and yells as well as cackling as she neared the scene. She growled as she skidded into the alleyway, finding Veronica bleeding from a gash in her head and arms. Though, her attacker was nowhere to be found. Quickly, McNamara rushed to her side, “Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I should never have left you alone!” She apologized, as the brunette tried to convince her otherwise.

“H..Heather.. the.. phone..” She mumbled weakly. Mac nodded, dialing 911 and explaining the situation. Afterwards, she focused on keeping Veronica awake.

“No, Ron.. You need to stay awake..”

“But.. I'm..sle..sleepy..”

“Just wait a little longer.. please..” That was the last thing Veronica could make out from that point onward, as she slipped in and out of consciousness.

Hand signals.




Sirens blaring.


The chestnut brown haired girl murmured from her bed. The first thing she felt was a warm hand link with hers tightly as well as excited squealing and a sigh of relief. Was she in the hospital? Yes, yes she was. She gently blinked open her eyes to a quite disheveled Mac. No one else was in the room with them. For a few moments, she looked around at the mint green walls, before looking at her bandaged arms and then feeling her bruised eye and split lips. She also felt extremely drowsy and her hazy mind quickly came to the conclusion of being drugged. She groaned gently, which Mac smiled non-abrasively at her, “Hey, sweetheart.. How're you feeling..?” She asked.

Like my arms were tickled with cheese graters,’ She wanted to say. Instead, she sat herself up slightly, “Like Hell..”

“Yeah, and you look it..” She sighed, “I'm so sorry I left you alone like this.. You got hurt, and it was my fault..” She mumbled. Veronica shook her head, increasing her headache, but it didn't matter.

“No, no, it wasn't your fault, neither of us knew J.D was still hooked on me..”

“Wait, trench-coat attacked you?!” Veronica nodded, “Oh, I'm going to kill him!”

“No, just.. don't.. I don't want you getting hurt, or worse..” She shuddered, remembering the emotional manipulation and attempted rape, “Did you tell them?”

“No, the police don't know either, I was too hysterical to talk.. I.. I thought you were gonna die..” The blonde sniffled. Veronica cracked a grin.

“But I didn't.”

“Dork,” She playfully punched her shoulder, “Anyway, they're gonna discharge you in an hour or so. Just, make sure to follow my dumbass next time, alright?”

Veronica snickered, before scooting over so Mac could climb on, “Alright.”

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