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"Casino!"

The look of relief that washed over the Warden's face when he carefully opened the door and stepped into the room was enough to make Casino feel guilty all over again, this time for staying away.

"Thank God! I thought…"

"I know what you thought." His tone was gruff but it softened a little as he continued. "You were just dreamin' again, that's all."

Garrison tried to turn in the bed, but the brace prevented it. "Look, I'm sorry. I could've gotten you guys killed out there. I should have…."

"…should have what? Taken that guy?" Casino asked as he settled himself on the chair next to the hospital bed. "I should have been able to do it too. But we both blew it. OK? Stuff like that happens. Should a, would a, could a…. It's nobody's fault." He knew by the look in the Warden's eyes that was going to take a while to sink in because he was only just beginning to believe it himself. Casino started searching around for some way to change the subject but Garrison beat him to it.

"It's late." He remembered the cold that caused him to take Casino off the mission once they hit the ground over in France. He also vaguely remembered hearing a rumble in his chest as he and Goniff carried him through those woods, and then the deep cough… "You've been sick. What in the hell are you doing down here? You'd be better off in bed."

"I'm fine. I just..." Casino started. He didn't want to let on that he was down here because he was just plain worried…. But for some reason he couldn't seem to think fast enough to come up with a good story. In a panic he blurted out the first thing that came into his head. "There was a telegram. I thought I ought a bring it down."

If he'd been thinking straight that never would have passed inspection. First, the Army didn't use telegrams they used dispatches. Second, he didn't have anyone who would send him a personal telegram. Third, if he did, Sergeant Major Rawlins would deliver it himself, or send one of the clerks, not entrust it to one of the men. But he wasn't thinking straight yet and so Garrison simply stuck his hand out. When all he got from his explosives expert was a blank look he snapped his fingers and prompted. "Well, let's have it."

Casino gave half a thought to asking the Warden what in the hell he was talking about, trying to pass it off as some sort of delusion from him bein' hurt, or the drugs or something. That thought went out the window when he took another look in Garrison's eyes. They were still a little vague, but getting sharper and sharper by the second as he delayed doing as he was told. He finally heaved a sigh, reached into his pocket and surrendered the wire. It wasn't until he saw Garrison start to straighten out the paper that he realized a copy of the outgoing message was there too. He'd crushed them into his pocket together back at the flop house.

Craig smoothed the paper out and read through the first handwritten note, then the response. He read through both of them again before he looked up to see Casino with his head down. His quarrelsome con was busy studying his hands, and he was flushed red to the roots of his hair. He considered the top of that dark head a moment before he carefully folded the papers together and laid them on the bed next to his leg. When the safecracker reached out and crumpled them in his fist Garrison caught his sleeve. Casino glanced up at him. "I think you'd better keep those."

Casino locked eyes with him for a moment before he gave a quick nod. He withdrew his hand and stuffed the papers back down in his pocket and then he pushed up onto his feet and started to pace. He made a tour of the room before he cleared his throat and turned on the Warden. "So. How 'r you doin' Warden?"

"I think you guys probably know more about that than I do." Garrison's voice trailed off for a moment. "They've been sticking needles into me all day."

"What for?"

He shrugged. "Some kind of test to see what works and what doesn't."

"Well? What'd they find out?"

Garrison gave a snort. "They don't tell me!" The Warden's voice was ripe with disgust and frustration. "I'm only the patient. Some of these guys, these specialists, walk in here and work me over like I'm some kind of a lab rat. Then they talk over the bed," he tossed his hand in the direction of the far corner of the room. "Or huddle over there and talk about me like I'm either not here or too stupid to bother with. If I could get up and…"

"When," Casino interjected.

Garrison sputtered to a stop and moment later he turned his face away from his demolitions expert.

"When you get up." Casino insisted again.

The Warden took a deep breath and swallowed. Casino decided to change the subject.

"D' you know that damned pack a yours weighed almost sixty-five pounds? You mind tellin' me what 'n the Hell you thought you were doin' back at that factory when you stuffed all those stupid things in there?" He had to wait a moment for the Lieutenant to collect himself and answer.

"Well,… Goniff suggested I ought to get a hobby once, remember?" Garrison shrugged and answered with a wan smile… "I thought maybe models….?"

Casino's eyes narrowed and he brought a stiffened finger up, prepared to tell the Warden just how much of a 'bone headed' idiot he was, then he gave an exasperated snort… He'd never listen, and he'd never change anyway, so why waste the energy? Besides Actor said that pack full of metal had probably saved his life. When they unpacked it and sorted through it all during the initial debriefing with Reynolds they'd found the place where the bullet smashed itself flat against one of the models. That hunk of metal had been shoved hard enough into Garrison's back by the slug that it had left a deep divot of a wound and the doctors figured it had shocked his spinal cord and left him paralyzed...but it had stopped the bullet.

"Well… Jeeze!" Casino tossed his hands in the air and plopped down on the edge of the bed. "Next time pick somethin' lighter, like...like tin soldiers or little toy trains, will ya?" When he caught the grimace on the Lieutenant's face he shot to his feet again. "Oh, man, I'm sorry! You alright? You need a doctor, or somethin'?

"That hurt." Garrison's gritted out, his voice caught on the words. In the next second his eyes went wide and he made a fist and struck his upper leg. His eyebrows shot up and he turned to stare at Casino who was still frozen by the bed. "That hurt!"