DISCLAIMER: DA and NCIS are not mine; borrowed, only, and no profits made.
SINCERE THANKS for reading. My mind-reading skills have been on the fritz lately, so feedback is the only way I know what you think. Any and all comments requested–are there still M/L readers out there? If you're there...does this help?
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 7, 2020 1:25 P.M.
METRO MEDICAL: EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT
After coffee, and after a final check of paperwork and schedules for interviews and prisoners and transfer of authority, Matt himself ferried Tony to the hospital, where the special agent knew he would still find his cousin keeping vigil. For someone who'd had such crappy luck with family, Tony reflected, Logan had found himself a "family" with bonds strong enough to rival those of any biological unit. Bling, Max... even Matt and those others calling in to assist in the search were a part of it. His cousin had made himself a life and a home, despite the bite of the Cales, despite the Pulse and injury and his own dark demons...
It comforted Tony to see it. But he couldn't help but wonder why it couldn't be even just a bit more than that... why Logan couldn't, finally, just allow himself to be happy...looking around the bleak streets surrounding what was still considered a fine hospital, set in the midst of the squalor that was still Seattle, Tony wondered if it was the city's darkness and despair that weighed upon his cousin...
Walking into the emergency department, he looked along the entrance bay to the sign-in area, and crossed over to the desk. Flashing his best smile to the attractive woman who looked up at his approach, DiNozzo pulled out his ID to encourage a faster response. "Hi. Can you tell me where I might find a patient, Bli..." He corrected. "Bonner Ingrum? He was brought here to emergency maybe two hours ago."
The smile was warm in return. "You mean BL?" At Tony's nod, the smile brightened even more. "We just got word that they're closing and he'll be out of surgery in twenty minutes. The surgery went very well, too." Tony was reminded of family again, that Bling was a part of not only Logan's little family, but one here as well–and noted too that, apparently, the doctor-patient confidentiality thing was relaxed for federal agents here–or more likely, he suspected, for good news...
His smile brightened. "Great. Is the waiting area for surgery here, or...?"
"Third floor, east–take the elevators there" she pointed, "and take a right as you get off." Her eyes carried a mischievous enjoyment that unsettled him–and she didn't appear ready to let him in on the joke. Still, he nodded his thanks and turned to go when she stopped him. "Logan's there, waiting ... if... that's who you're looking for ... since–clearly–you know him as well..."
Getting the joke now, he turned back to the desk and the attractive brunette behind it. "You know Logan, then, too?"
The woman nodded. "I actually was down here to check on BL, as well as a couple other things. I usually work upstairs, in neuro–Logan's doctor is on our wing, and PT is next door. And you have got to be family..." she laughed, merrily.
"Tony DiNozzo–Logan's cousin," he agreed, the "family" reference amusing him yet again. "I picked a heck of a time to come for a visit, though...I hated to see that BL had been hurt."
"Oh, so did we" the pretty brow clouded at the thought of the already strapped PT department without their senior therapist. "Terrible thing to happen to such a good man. And I'm not sure how they'll manage til he comes back. Therapists are hard enough to find these days out here, and BL's one of the best."
Tony nodded, pleased to hear that Bling was skilled at his job–and that he actually was what he claimed to be, even if also part of Logan's little army–whatever it was... "So they think he'll recover enough to get back at it, what with the shoulder injury and all..."
She nodded. "He was really lucky, all the dangerous or hard to repair stuff was missed, and nothing was severed or torn so badly that the surgery and a few weeks can't fix nearly all of it." She laughed again, "Not a way I'd want to get a vacation, but he could use a break, anyway."
Tony nodded, pleased with all of it. Despite how grim the city appeared, there were definitely bright spots here in Seattle, he mused...and it appeared that, along with all the bad he'd suffered in recent years, Logan had found his share of the good, too...
Tony nodded his appreciation. "Well, thank you, Miss...?"
"Amanda."
"Amanda," his smile grew even brighter. "I'm glad to meet someone who's looking after both BL and my cousin..."
"We do what we can." She twinkled...and let her eyes flash up involuntarily at the page over the intercom...
"Dr. Collier...Dr. Amanda Collier, line 2...Dr. Collier, line 2..."
She looked back up to smile apologetically. "Sorry...I'd better get this..."
His grin quirked and he nodded, "Nice to have met you, Dr. Collier..." He turned and went on to the elevators, whistling tunelessly as he did. Definitely, some bright spots...and definitely, they'd drawn his cousin in...
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 7, 2020 1:35 P.M.
METRO MEDICAL: SURGICAL FLOOR
Tony wandered around the third floor long enough to find the surgery waiting room, but no Logan or Max. The two staffers at the information desk were no help, until a third, just coming back from lunch, overheard the discussion. She told Tony that a young woman had asked her if the man waiting for BL to get out of surgery could be seen by someone; if Tony was looking for the gentleman in the wheelchair, Dr. Carr's patient, he could find him around the corner, in recovery. Dr. Carr had even dropped by, she added, after leaving BL's procedure to the team closing the incisions, to take a look...
With the news that Logan had actually been injured, too, Tony hurried down the now-quiet hall, mentally berating himself that he hadn't checked on Logan himself, earlier, hadn't just asked him if he was alright when they'd spoken. Max had said he was fine, out at the Quay; had she just not known then, either...?
Peering into the recovery unit, now all but empty, surgeries fewer on Friday afternoon than other days, he saw Logan at a nearby bay. To DiNozzo's relief, he didn't look too much worse for wear, lying back on a gurney against the raised end, as yet another attractive woman was at studious work on his arm. Pausing a moment to shake off the sudden dread he'd felt at what he might find, Tony took in the scene and wondered absently if Logan even noticed that his world was full of beautiful women–or had he stopped noticing, once Max had appeared in his life...?
"What's all this?" Tony frowned, coming close to peer around at the gash along Logan's arm, at the moment getting its final stitch of eight small, neatly placed sutures. "How'd this happen–when?"
"The fence bit me–it wasn't a big deal, but Max saw it, and...you know..." Logan grumbled. "She thought if I was here anyway, waiting to see how Bling's doing..."
"Smart woman," Tony agreed, looking him over, affecting his usual, casual air. "So I hear he'll be fine."
"Me too. But..." Logan slowed his words, processing, and looked up suspiciously at his cousin. "If you just walked in–and he hasn't even been brought here to recovery yet–how did you know...?"
"Logan, I'm an investigator! What do you think I do all day?" DiNozzo grinned, and came closer to peer over the resident's shoulder, first gaining a smile from her as he fixed her with one of his winners.
Logan just rolled his eyes, but chuckled, nonetheless. He found himself suddenly wondering, given all the years of people saying they looked alike, if he could have gotten that same response from all the women he'd ever met, by simply flashing a smile and a line... No, he decided, he didn't have it in him. Such a big part of it was pure, inimitable DiNozzo charm– and no matter the looks, he could never match that. He looked back up to his cousin...
...and Tony could see in him that same light of hero-worship and affection he'd always seen there, from the time he'd first laid eyes on a very young Logan Cale... So it took a lot of work to keep his features and voice as lighthearted as they had been. "Think you'll live, then?"
"Probably." Logan's mouth twisted wryly as he looked up to his cousin. "What about you? Any gashes or broken bones or things you ought to have checked out? Maybe we can get a group rate."
"Or a family discount. Everyone here seems to know Bling or you... or both..."
"Small town," Logan shrugged–but his eyes danced a bit in fun for a moment before trying again. "So you're intact, you're saying?"
Meaning, he was asking seriously–and Tony assured him, "Just as I appeared on your doorstep yesterday. Well, I may have a few creaky muscles in the morning–but that's more from sitting on the damn plane for so long and doing my run this morning without working them out decently first." He came around to plunk down amiably at Logan's non-injured side on the gurney. "But Max and I made it without a scratch–she did, didn't she?"
Logan nodded. "In fact, she's been here and gone a couple times–she checked in with work, managed to get a couple deliveries this way, and dropped back in to see how things were going." At Tony's absent murmur, mind apparently elsewhere, Logan changed the subject. "Did you have to take a cab, or did you manage a ride here from Seattle's finest?"
"Actually, yeah, Matt dropped me off." Tony watched with interest as the doctor was now applying what looked for the world to be some sort of rubber cement along Logan's laceration. "Good guy, Matt," he continued as he watched, "and he says you're alright. I can trust another cop's judgment, so I guess you turned out okay, cuz."
No matter how much Logan wanted to fire back an indignant reply, the grin he felt grow at Matt's praise to his cousin–and Tony's apparent reaction to it–made cynicism difficult. "Well, I'm glad you can trust strangers over family," He managed.
Tony snorted, but grinned back over Logan, "A second opinion never hurts–right, doc?" he tried.
"Absolutely," the woman grinned back.
"See?" Tony finally felt himself start to relax for the first time since he'd left Washington. "Besides–I like your group of strangers, cuz–I think they may just be able to keep you in line."
Logan's smile warmed again at the acceptance he heard. "If they can't, it certainly isn't for a lack of trying."
Tony laughed, the rich sound a balm for Logan's soul. "Good. Because I'll be damned if you wouldn't be a handful..."
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 7, 2020 2:20 P.M.
METRO MEDICAL
The news continued to be positive, as Bling was brought to recovery not long after they'd finished with Logan there–he was doing well, but would be out for several hours, they predicted. Sandra had called Logan and was on her way; she and Logan agreed to share bedside duties for at least the first hours of Bling's stay. Tony didn't even give him much grief when Logan grinned his unavailable status back toward Tony not too long after, when DiNozzo got a call from Aunt Margo, demanding his presence for dinner...
But there still were awkward moments, as when the pair left for Logan's–making their way out of the surgical wing and on through the hospital, it was clear to Tony that Logan was struggling more than he had before, with the chair. His cousin stubbornly pressed on, but at the exit doors, DiNozzo finally stopped. "Logan..." The green eyes tipped up to his, silently. Tony hesitated, then shrugged, "Look, can I help? Is your arm bothering you that much?"
It took him a moment, but Logan realized what Tony had seen–and shook his head, irritated with the additional casualty. "Oh–no, it's the chair–the wheel. I must have dinged the rim on the steps; it's out of whack and it's like fighting through mud..."
"Damn. On your bad side?"
Logan hesitated and actually laughed, "Well, what do you know. It could be worse." He grinned up to his cousin and again pushed off toward the garage. "It's on the good side."
"Well, that's good news." Tony came up from behind to pace Logan again. "Something you can fix?"
"Not me, but I know a couple guys who could fix or replace it." Logan opened the passenger side of his Aztek for Tony, and started around the side.
"How long will that take?" Tony frowned. It had dawned on him over the past hours how necessary the chair was to Logan–and he was protectively bothered by the thought of Logan having to fight the chair like this as he waited.
But Logan's expression was untroubled, even if wryly annoyed. "Hard to say– a repair, maybe a day or two. Replacement–two days to two months."
"Logan, that's unreasonable–" Tony began, frustrated at the unfairness it represented.
"'s okay," he smiled a little at Tony's protectiveness. "I have an old one–and a court chair–I could use if I need. And it probably won't be that long–specialty items can be a pain; I wait as long for computer parts, sometimes." Getting into the Aztek easily, the arm not appearing to slow him down much, he chuckled, "You should hear Max when her favorite shampoo suddenly goes missing for weeks at a time."
Tony again reflected on the conditions in Seattle, knowing that while things weren't "normal" back east, they were far less desperate than day to day life seemed out here. "Damn, Logan, hasn't Seattle turned around at all?"
Logan pulled his door shut and started up his car, finally sighing his admission. "It's been like this so long, it's hard to tell...I keep thinking things are getting a bit better, then we fall back a decade." He pulled out of the parking space and eased out of the garage. "So what they say is true, there's some recovery out east?"
"East, north, mid-west...even the south is coming back. Looks like the Wild West is still a little wild..."
Logan was quiet for a moment but, musing, managed another bit of a smile. "So maybe we're next." He then sighed as the traffic lights ahead flickered...sputtered...then went dark in a mid-day brown out. "Maybe soon," he said softly, sadly, not seeing the look of determination grow in his cousin's eyes...
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 7, 2020 5:07 P.M.
SECTOR 9; FOGLE TOWERS: Cale Penthouse
Despite gunplay in the morning and a hospital vigil at the lunch hour, despite the desolation of the city and a brownout that at least had the decency not to reach into Logan's sector, they'd managed to spend an easy afternoon reminiscing after all, over Logan's lunch and the photo albums he'd dug out at word of Tony's pending arrival.
The cousins were each coming to terms with the distance they'd let grow, each secretly vowing not to let it happen again. They saw, without realizing, the changes the other bore from life post-Pulse and from their chosen work, and privately wondered if they could find a way to share the other's burdens... They tacitly acknowledged the changes forced upon Logan, and hoped to find again the ease and comfort of the closeness they'd once shared, knowing it was near but still just out of reach...
But the laughter was genuine, easy; the warmth was palpable. After a while Tony admitted he had a report to crank out for Gibbs and retrieved his laptop, as Logan did the same, managing to check his e-mail and take care of some less-obvious EO tasks without his cousin being the wiser. After about an hour, Tony groaned in some triumph and shut his computer. "At least that's done, for the weekend." He grinned ruefully. "If I didn't have to deal with Uncle Jonas, it could be a perfect evening. You sure you won't come along and protect me from him?"
Logan laughed, "I'm the last one who can do that."
"At least if you're there too, I'll only get fifty percent of his venom." Tony grinned, hopefully.
"Bennett will get your back–he's actually starting to get a bit of a backbone, when it comes to his father. Maybe if you wave your gun every once in a while, he'll settle down."
"A good thought," Tony stood stiffly, and groaned, "I knew I was going to regret being in such a hurry this morning." He confessed, "I'd barely gone downstairs when I thought I saw someone scoping out the building, and went to investigate–turns out he was a much better runner than I am."
Logan looked surprised. "It wasn't Parks, was it?"
"No, I think it was just a runner with expensive tastes, ogling your building" he laughed. "I followed him long enough to decide he was in training for something. Sure hope he shares the medal with his training partner– maybe I should find him again and give him my number." As Logan chuckled and glanced back to his laptop, Tony suddenly turned, an idea taking shape, then swung back to face his cousin. "Oh, wait, Logan, you have that great Jacuzzi, don't you? Oh, man, I'd kill for a whirlpool...would you mind?"
Logan froze only the moment; looking up in some discomfort, he fumbled, "No, it's fine, but..."
He was talking to a disappearing back as Tony charged back toward his bedroom, back toward the master bath where he'd remembered Logan's large whirlpool. Hating what he knew was to come, Logan scrambled to follow his cousin, hoping to stop him...
"Wait; Tony, before you go in..."
But it was too late and there Tony stood, frozen in the doorway, staring at it all, much as he himself had the first time he saw his luxurious bath suite outfitted, post-shooting– the grab bars and shower seats and medical supplies waiting in every drawer and cupboard...
"I...just wanted to warn you..." Logan was sick with the image. If he'd only had time to say something ...and the afternoon had almost been normal, he thought, bitterly. "Look, the Jacuzzi works the same, just..." He wavered, and started to turn. "I'm sorry...I'll get you some towels..."
But Tony turned. "Logan..." Looking him in the eye, DiNozzo considered his cousin for a moment, as if suddenly catching on to something. "Why are you apologizing?"
The question took Logan by surprise–and he was more surprised to realize he didn't have a sensible answer. He shook his head, looking for words. "All this stuff..." he shrugged, "just...more reminders of how things... how I'm...not 'normal' anymore..."
Tony stared at him for another moment, then said in a tone that was almost accusatory, "Look, I'm allowed to be embarrassed and awkward with all this because I've only known about it all for what, six weeks? You've been living with it all for nearly a year..."
"Not with you seeing it all for the first time..." Logan snapped back.
Tony's eyes widened, and he blinked, "That's why you're embarrassed?"
Caught, Logan momentarily considered a diversion, but came up dry–so countered, demanding, "Yeah–you got a better reason?"
And at that, Tony suddenly beamed, and relaxed into a chuckle. "No–and I'm glad you don't, either." At the sight of his cousin's sudden puzzlement, so fast on the heels of bristling indignation, Tony's easy laughter continued, "'cause in another day or so, I'll be used to it all and you'll have no reason to be embarrassed. All your problems solved; case closed." Tony still grinned. "Talk your way out of that one, cuz." He stood and started the noisy splashing of the whirlpool as it filled... "And I'll be needing those towels..."
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 7, 2020 9:40 P.M.
METRO MEDICAL
Bling had roused before, in recovery, feeling vaguely dry and achy, before sinking back into oblivion and the padded sensation of the drugs they'd used to sedate him. He'd been marginally aware later, when they took him from the relative bustle to a room elsewhere, with cooler, fresher air and quieter surroundings. But this time as he floated to the surface he was more alert... probably from the anesthesia and drugs clearing out, he was able to rationalize as he lay unmoving. Eyes still closed, he was well aware of his surroundings, and what brought him there...but was muddy on anything after he'd been hit, what, hours ago? He found himself wondering how long it had been...
He drew a deep breath, feeling a sudden, deep seated stab of pain in his upper chest and shoulder, a pulling and itching pain across the top layer...freezing a moment, now keenly aware of the "safe" range for his breathing even as he was waking, Bling let the breath out slowly, evenly. Shifting without much thought to abdominal breathing, keeping his upper chest relatively still, he was comforted to find that the stab did not reappear–so it was muscular, and not his lung itself...with his third breath, he slowly opened his eyes to find hospital room trappings, the monitors and bed frame and self-dose pump he'd expected to see...
"So. You are awake." At the sound, Bling turned to see the intelligent green eyes peering at him, and Logan moving a little closer to the bedside. "What's wrong with this picture?" Cale grinned in relief to see his therapist awake, and tried to sound easy, unconcerned. He wasn't too successful...
Bling's eyes closed tiredly as he acknowledged, with a rueful smirk, "I have to admit it's a bit easier being on the other side of the patient-visitor arrangement."
"How're you feeling?" Logan's voice softened, giving away the worry still not entirely dispelled. "Or can you tell yet?"
"Glad things are over." Bling forced his eyes open again and looked to Logan, remembering... He had crossed a line he had never crossed before with any patient, let alone with Logan, and it had been eating at him, even when pushed to the back of his thoughts as he went after Parks...even now as he first awoke...
...but it was over... and Logan was here. Whether or not Logan would forgive him, he owed this man more than he'd shown him...
"Logan...about what I did; if I could have managed, without..."
"No problem; don't think about it; you just need to think about getting back on your feet." Logan interrupted, words tumbling with his discomfort. The memory still, admittedly, was painful–but, especially in the circumstances, one he'd hoped to bury without further thought. Bling was the patient for a change, not him...
"That's not enough, Logan, we both know it..." Bling's voice was raspy, no doubt a result of the tubes and drugs and dehydration all a part of recent surgery... "Even at the time I knew how it would affect you, leaving you with the chair out of reach...and I knew that it would be worse for me to do it than anyone..." His dark eyes looked directly into Logan's, admitting the humiliation he knew he'd caused. "I wish I could say I wasn't thinking clearly, but...I knew, and I did it anyway. I shouldn't have... and I'm sorry for all of it."
Logan wavered, looking for words. He'd understood why Bling had done it...that should be enough. And Bling was just out of surgery; it wasn't the time for his friend to have to deal with the unresolved woes of one of his patients...
...but it had chafed, deeply, had shaken his trust more than he found comfortable. A memory which, each knew, Logan couldn't jettison easily under the best of circumstances–and never once had he been able to con the man before him. He managed a shrug, but not even attempting eye contact with Bling, Logan shook his head. "It's what I would have done...how can I fault that? And you were doing what you thought would protect us. I understand..." he said, stubbornly.
Bling drew a quiet breath. "SEAL training taught me to exploit every tactical advantage...but the training I had after that taught me that there is always another way, and not every first impression is sound. I would do it over again, Logan, taking off...keeping you out of the loop...but I wouldn't leave you immobile. Not even for tactical advantage. That was unforgivable..."
This time Logan lifted his eyes back to his therapist's, seeing Bling's heartfelt remorse even in his exhaustion, and suddenly realized that this man understood him far better than anyone else did. Though he worked daily to get Logan past the demons he still wrestled, connected with his injuries–he never once minimized or dismissed them. And just realizing that reminded Logan why his trust had been granted in the first place...
So for the first time in many hours, Logan's face relaxed into a genuine, if wry, smirk. "As long as you understand that..." He watched the man's face process the words and expression before relaxing some, too. "Seems to me you'll have to do some pretty fancy dancing to get me back on that table any time soon."
As Bling's face showed his relief that, apparently, his apology was accepted, it also clouded a little before he tried blowing off his yet-unspoken concerns. "Well, with a hole through my shoulder you just might have to find someone else, anyhow..."
"No such luck." Logan shook his head quickly, selfishly pleased to be the one who got to tell him. "Sam said that it looks good for at least all-but-perfect, and that Dr. Franklin predicted at least a ninety percent return of function and ROM and strength, maybe more–and no reason not to get back to where you were, after a few weeks." He lifted an eyebrow to complain, "looks as if I don't have all that long a reprieve."
"What would make you think that my being injured gives you a reprieve of any kind?" Bling's eyes closed again, heavily. "Don't need two good shoulders to kick your ass, just one good foot..."
Logan looked at the man with unquestioned relief, sensing the old Bling intact, and again safe. Suddenly buoyed with the outcome of recent days' events, he griped good-naturedly, "why is it that everyone keeps threatening to kick my ass?"
He saw Bling's lips quirk as he lay back against the raised bed. "What are you doing here, anyway?" Bling ignored Logan's question for his own. "Don't you have a cousin to entertain?"
"Sandra and I took shifts, so someone would be here when you finally joined the living–and you didn't have the decency to awaken at a decent hour, while she was here. Besides," Logan allowed a private smile with the additional thought. "Tony's off seeing Aunt Margo and Uncle Jonas–so you're my excuse for not joining him. He'll be here a few more days. We'll have time to catch up." And thanks to his irrepressible, hard-headed cousin, who insisted that the chair was just another part of life, they could spend the rest of the weekend with all the baggage between them packed away...
"Good. It looks as if you two are good for each other."
Logan snorted, unwilling to believe it. "Tony's got it made. I've never had much to offer him."
"Don't be too sure." Bling murmured, beginning again to doze. Logan's reaction was one of surprise and curiosity for Bling's observation–but he couldn't press it now, as the therapist worked to recover from his own gunshot wound. He knew Bling well enough to know it wasn't an idle comment, that he must have seen or heard something from Tony to say what he had. He looked down, smiled again in relief and...a sense of calm he hadn't felt in a long while, a sense of place. Of family. Of family...
...to be continued...