His eyes felt heavy and his head was hammering so fucking bad; he just wanted to turn down the sound. What the fuck happened? There was an unidentifiable beeping sound nearby and glaring overhead lights blazing through the insides of his closed eyelids. He didn't know where he was, but strange beds were nothing new. It was just that normally, the beds were way more comfortable, and there was a warm, naked body next to him.

Dick opened his eyes just a sliver. The paneled ceiling didn't look familiar so he turned his head slightly to the right, cataloguing each new item that he saw. Transparent bag of liquid hanging from a pole. Blue machine with a heartbeat line flickering across the screen. Metal bar on the side of the bed. Well fuck.

"Wll frg." Dick's attempt to vocalize his thoughts came out as a barely intelligible mumble. He heard rustling from his left side. Turning his head towards the sound very slowly – he'd realized right away that moving meant nausea – he found Logan shifting himself to lean forward in a tiny visitor's chair. He did not look happy.

"Hey, Dick." Logan said quietly, face neutral but eyes blazing. "Well fucking done."

"Wha-?" Dick tried again to get coherent words out of his mouth, but his throat was burning and his tongue felt three sizes too big.

"You tell me, man. The hospital left me a message at home telling me you were here. I came as soon as Veronica was able to track me down at the base. Three fucking days ago. You have been unconscious for three fucking days, asshole."

It took all of Dick's limited concentration to put together what Logan was telling him but even in the state he was in he could infer Logan's opinion of his situation. Logan was thoroughly pissed off, and Dick thought that his friend could be a little more understanding, considering that he'd just woken up in a hospital bed. I mean, man, it's not like Logan's never had a little too good a time at a party before. Whatever I did must have been legendary though, for me to end up here. Wish I could remember what it was.

He must have looked confused, because Logan shook his head as though answering Dick's unasked question. "All I know is that the ambulance picked you up at Sunset Cliffs. They said that you-" Logan cut himself off, unable to continue.

Dick just stared at his best friend. Logan was not only pissed off, but Dick got the distinct impression that he was really distraught. Signaling for water, he drank from the straw that Logan put to his lips, and took a few moments while the water soothed his throat to recall his most recent memories. They returned to him in fits and starts, but he managed to remember enough to be able to explain himself at least.

He had stopped at the 09er after a business meeting with his foundation's lawyers. It had been a particularly frustrating meeting, his lawyers treating him as though he didn't understand the rudiments of a contract. But he'd shown them when he pointed out the loophole that they had tried to get past him. Assholes. He knew that he gave off the impression that he was just an idiot surfer, more often high than not, but he had a head for business and the university degree to prove it. In fact, he had his university degree in spite of his frat boy behavior and reputation. That in itself should prove how much business sense he actually had.

All he'd wanted to do was blow off some steam. He'd met some girls, bought them a few drinks, flashed his private pharmaceutical stash, and gotten himself invited to a party somewhere. He couldn't even remember actually getting to the Cliffs. His memory got fuzzy somewhere after chasing the little blue pills with a glass of Cristal, but he did remember the giggling and soft skin and not wanting to go home to an empty house. Parties were the only places where he never had to fight his reputation. It was always easier to just go with it all. And let's face it, playing the hot, rich playboy wasn't a bad way to live.

Then he remembered beautiful full lips egging him on, and being sure that the water was deep enough.

Dick tried a few times to make himself heard; his voice sounded like sandpaper, but if he could just get the story out, Logan would totally get it! Back in the good old days, his buddy was no stranger to partying right along next to him when life got generally shitty, after all, and he knew how shitty Dick's life actually was. Finally, hoarse but desperate to make his BFF understand this time, Dick managed to slowly explain.

"Dude! C'mon, man!" Dick paused to cough and sip some more water. "We were partying up on the cliffs and, -" he paused again, struggling to remain audible and breathe at the same time. "- you know, the babes, they always like that macho man shit." He tried to look smug but succeeded only in wincing in pain. "Gotta give the ladies what they want if you want the booty. Fair's fair."

Logan leapt out of his chair, lips clenched in a tight line as if to hold back the angry words. He closed his eyes and started counting; Dick could see his lips moving as he mouthed the numbers. I must not be telling it right. He didn't get it. The lawyers, I need to tell him about the shitty meeting. But Logan had reached twenty, taken a deep breath and opened his eyes before Dick could find his voice again. "Your swan dive must not have impressed the babes enough, because they took off after they called 911. There was no one there when the paramedics arrived. They had to scrape your carcass off the rocks." Logan walked to the window, turning his back so that Dick could no longer see his face.

"Guess I need more practice." Dick tried to joke to lighten the mood. When Logan didn't answer, he switched subjects, trying for a little sympathy. "So what's the damage? How long before I can go and see how much my lawyers have fucked up my life since I've been in here?"

Logan didn't turn around, nor did he directly answer the question. "How drunk were you anyway? Must have been pretty drunk, 'cause you still reek of the shit. I mean, they had to pump your stomach. You know, in case you couldn't tell from the sore throat."

"What the fuck, man? It was a fucking party! What else do you do at a party?" Dick tried to exclaim, but he felt so tired he was pretty sure that his annoyance didn't come across the way he wanted. What good was having your friends around when all they did was give you shit when you were down?

"What else did you do? E? Coke? Have you graduated to heroin yet?" Logan wasn't shouting, but Dick was pretty sure that the easy tone he was using to ask the questions meant something worse.

"I dunno; I don't do heroin, though, dude. You know that. That shit will fuck you up!"

"Mmm." Logan said noncommittally, and then turned around. Dick had only seen the face he was making a few times before, all times when Veronica had gone nuclear on his life. "I don't know that, actually. I don't know what the actual fuck you're doing anymore. All that I do know is that you haven't been a goddamn frat boy for over a decade. And that someone else in my life looked like they were trying to fucking kill themselves by jumping off a fucking cliff! Son of a fucking bitch, Dick! I know it's hard, but enough! Enough!" By this time, although trying to keep his voice low, Logan was so angry he was literally spitting out the words.

Dick tried to focus on his best friend, but the edges of his vision were starting to go white and his eyelids refused to stay open. "God! I'm sorry dude!" was what Dick meant to say, but all that Logan heard was Dick exhale a breath before the machines began to scream.

Dick is sitting on the grass in the front yard of his childhood home, leaning against the giant palm tree that grows like an arrow stuck in the bull's eye of a grassy circle in the middle of the curved driveway. How the fuck did I get here? Where's Logan? Either he had knocked his head pretty hard or he was going to have to have a word with his supplier about what his drugs are getting cut with.

Then, the astonishing sight in front of him seizes the breath in his lungs. He's dumbfounded.

"So you're finally ready?"

Dick unwillingly drags his gaze away from the child in the yard and turns to find Mr. Mars Mars leaning against the palm tree just behind him, hands in the pockets of his beige Walmart liquidation-sale jacket. Now he knows something's weird, because why the hell would Veronica's dad be standing with him in the front of his house. "Huh?"

Mr. Mars smiles gently. "You're finally ready to face it?"

"Face what, dude – I mean, sir?"

"Everything."