He didn't hear the familiar ringtone Gavin DeGraw - Soldier instead it was the cheerful voicemail.

"Hey it's Dick… don't leave me hanging…"

Short, economical, upfront.. and totally Dick. Logan hung up. He didn't leave a message, the phone probably needed charged.

"Hello?" Logan called out walking onto the ward through a sea of half-closed curtains. Medical staff had sent them out of the ward hours ago to allow him time to sleep undisturbed.

It felt like three days. Especially knowing that on at least one occasion he'd flatlined.

Emergency contact privilege meant Logan received the call less than an hour ago from the hospital that he was finally awake. They were hardly the picture of domestic bliss, but this was his best man, his brother in the end… outside of the Mars family, Dick Casablancas was all he really had.

The butterflies in his stomach were running riot, he didn't know what to expect.

Sheriff Mars advised it was best to do some recon and see what they were dealing with, and he agreed it was wise before exposing a vulnerable Mac to more trauma. Dick was one of the few people who'd stuck by him through lean times. He'd help protect his family.

Deputy Sacks and Veronica had gently convinced Mac to travel back with them to finish giving her statement and help retrieve the CCTV evidence she'd found of Tim Foyle the night Weevil had been killed. Logan promised to update her with any news. Wallace had taken her back to the dorms to shower and change with Parker insisting she try to rest and they'd bring her back first thing.

"Thing's that bad without me you have to go soliciting hospital wards?" the familiar voice joked. Hearing the sound he turned around. Logan saw his roommate propped up against the thin ward pillows. His eyes lacked their usual spark, like that essential fire had been doused but he sat there bold and unaffected as a freshly neutered big cat.

A little sore… still majestic.

"Dude, you're gonna have to hold it," Dick declared as he waved the bed pan at Logan who stood looking comically confused.

"What?" Logan asked with wide eyes looking nervously around the room, and Dick tried not to burst out laughing at the panic in his expression.

"I have to pee… and I don't want one of these orderlies like manhandling me, so you're gonna have to bro-up and help me out," he said gesturing to the metal bed pan again.

"Yeah, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Logan quipped scratching the back of his head feeling absurdly emotional at the teasing tone in his friends voice. As if he had just called over with breakfast after a night out and just spent last several hours hoovering on the brink of death on an operating table.

"You are the worst at this comfort thing…" Dick said rolling his eyes. "You don't know the value of a moment until becomes a memory.. someday you'll regret not holding my penis."

"Now you're being petty," Logan said.

"Damn right I'm pretty.. but no need to make it weird," Dick said putting the bed pan back onto the small medical table beside him.

"I'm the one making this weird?" Logan retorted with a raised eyebrow. "How much morphine do they have you on?"

Dick shifted his gaze to the drip hanging beside him and shrugged.

"They caught him?" he asked wincing as he pushed his dishevelled blonde hair away from his face.

"Yeah- yeah they did," Logan nodded in concern.

"Do I have to take another bullet for you to quit looking like such a sadsack?" Dick complained swatting Logan on the shoulder. "I'm fine… but I think going forward we should start selling Veronica t-shirts, get her a Dog the Bounty Hunter reality show… I'm thinking Go Bobcats," Dick joked.

Conversations with Dick rarely went beyond the superficial… this was going to take weeks to heal, recovery was going to be slow and meant he would have to make several life-style changes if he planned on taking advantage of any long healthy life he could have.

"Awake again Mr Casablancas?" a short nurse in peach scrubs smiled as she pulled aside the curtain.

"And alive, it's a good day, hello Caitlyn" Dick teased, giving her the full Casablancas charm.

Logan smothered a grin, half-drugged and missing a kidney and his friend was still convinced of his devilish good looks to go flirting with the nurses.

Anything legal age, under 40 and female…

"Well let's keep you that way," she grinned picking up his chart. "Dr Hawkesworth took samples for your labs?"

"The Dr McDreamie who looks like Jeff Bridges?" he asked as she adjusted his fluids, and changed over the saline.

"I'll have to tell him you said that," she chuckled fixing the setting and stepping back to the bed. "Now… how is your comfort level?" she asked tilting her head in the direction of the bed pan. "Any urgent business to take care of while I'm here?"

"Nah, I'm all good," Dick smiled back as Logan gritted his jaw as he crossed his arms.

"Okay.. then here's your order form for today's dinner, we will be giving you a sponge just after lunch time visiting hours, so if there's anything you would like to arrange for someone to bring…" she said looking over at Logan. "Some people like to have their own robes to feel a little more at home."

Logan nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"Oooh- my mango conditioner or my hair will get frizzy," Dick commented picking up the menu sheet. His eyes were riveted to the words, yawning he slumped back and rubbed a hand over his face. His back was broad and strong, but right now Logan couldn't help but notice how much effort those simple gestures were. His head felt wooly and the beep-beep of a machine at the end of his ward had kept him half alert. "I'm so fucking tired…"

"Should I tell them to hold off on the parade and balloons then?" Logan quipped.

"I'd settle for a medal... maybe one of those big sky banners?" Dick shrugged and his companion laughed recalling the time he'd chartered a small plane in junior high to carry a Weller Academy Suck signed Dick banner across a rival teams football field. It had started an almost state wide debate about the use of private coaches and trust fund kids vs public schools before Casablancas Enterprises was forced to fund new team uniforms for Weller and Richard snr decided sports were perhaps too costly long term for someone with Dick's competitive enthusiasm.

"You had us worried to hell," Logan said, his incisive brown eyes roving over him. The golden hair looked limp, and his skin was pale and the hollows of his cheeks looked like the combined sum of the worst hangovers he'd ever had.

"Says the walking disaster magnet with accolades," Dick joked as if humor could just magic all the stress of the last few hours away.

"I don't know what you want me to bring you. I got home yesterday and all your stuff was gone," Logan swallowed, trying his best not to sound hurt or accusing, but it was still the truth.

"I'm sorry… I know I told you to stay in your lane, and I shouldn't have done that…" he said, shaking his head.

They were like the Winchester Brothers… they would choose each other, time and time again.

"Damn right you shouldn't have.. You're my best man, my Brother.. you aren't just my lane, we are family. You are the whole fucking highway… till the Grave man, that's what we said," Logan told him firmly. Dick swallowed blinking away the glistening in his eyes then nodded.

They'd talk… really talk, and soon.

Dick was going to talk Logan into going for therapy to help heal some, if not all of their past. He'd had enough of inner demons and watching his friend shadow box his monsters.

Wallace was a smart guy, they all needed to learn to communicate better, but first he had someone else high on his list of amends. Dick rubbed his hand along the stubble on his jaw.

He should get Logan to bring him a tooth brush, and some stuff to clean up.

People had always made him wary, the women in his life were avaricious, mercenary and aside from watching a besotted Veronica and Logan who only ever had eyes on each other. He'd assumed that love was a great big old con, up there with blue balls and promises of fairy-tale castles to charm the panties off cheerleaders and debutantes.

He'd used that screwed up wiring to think that Cindy MacKenzie was like all the others who coveted glittery shiny things, that getting pregnant was born from the most insipid ulterior motive other than a desire to be with him. The way he'd acted was completely unforgivable…

"I've never been as scared as when they put you on that table and took you away from me…"

He'd almost died… and he'd never told her how he felt… that he loved her too.

She was safe, their baby was safe…

"She was here all night?" Dick asked softly.

"Yeah," Logan answered. Thinking about Cindy and the baby brought all the apprehension of last night flooding right back.

"I'm gonna be a dad…" Dick said. Now he just had to figure out how to raise a kid and win back the love of his life without emulating his father. "I need to call my lawyer…"

"Why?" Logan asked in a concerned voice. The last time they'd gone down this road legal documents from Dick were forward to Cliff McCormack threatening to sue his ex-girlfriend Mac and financially ruin her.

"I need to get hold of my ex-wife" Dick explained looking around for his phone.

Dicks impromptu elopement to Vegas wasn't something they really mentioned. His roommate had plotted to set up a double date during Logan's previous break up with Veronica. Except the promised sister Heather who was 'just like his ex-wife's twin', ended up being eleven year old Heather. Logan had spent the next two days eating ice-cream and playing video games telling her all about his love troubles. She'd adorably sent a radio request to Veronica from Logan to help him win her back which ended in some awkward moments in the elevator.

"Really not sure where you are going with this…" Logan frowned.

"I have to talk to Heather!"