It wasn't fair. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to her. God of all people not her. Lucky ran a hand raggedly through his hair. Mac had to be wrong. That was the bottom line. Mac was wrong and this whole thing was a ridiculous and completely unfunny joke.

Pacing in front of the entrance gate at the practice track, Lucky tried to run through the limited amount of facts he had right now. Patrick was going to want answers and he was going to want them immediately. His cousin wasn't going to take this news well in any form and the few nuggets of information weren't going to help keep Patrick from ripping someone's head off. There had to be something he was forgetting. Some small, vital, important fact that could allow him to say that everything was going to be fine.

There was nothing. He knew there was nothing. He had been over it a million times since Mac, looking as if he had aged overnight, had come to the door. There was nothing he could tell Patrick that was going to make this ok. Nothing. God why had he volunteered to do this? Why hadn't he just told Mac where Patrick was and met them both there? Why did he have to listen to that stupid little voice in his head that told him Patrick would take it better coming from him and that Mac had enough going on? Never again. He was never listening to that voice again.

A few of the other drivers and crew members started to meander through the gate. Practice was obviously starting to end for the day. He couldn't stall anymore. He had to get in there and do this. Squaring his shoulders, Lucky pushed his way against the departing team members and scanned the remaining people for Patrick's familiar frame. Just please be alone, Lucky prayed. Just be alone. This wasn't going to be easy, but the least Lucky could do right now is to make sure Patrick didn't break down in front of a crowd.

"Never thought I'd see the day." Patrick greeted Lucky, jumping off the bottom bleacher and sliding under the bar.

"Patrick." Lucky managed shakily. "I guess hell froze over after all."

"Did Robin send you? Am I late for something?"

"No. Um but we still have to go."

Patrick scanned the bleachers until he found his crew chief. "Hey Doug, I'm outta here. Okay, where are we going?" he asked, letting Lucky lead him to the car.

Lucky bit his lower lip. He had to tell him before they got into the car. "Patrick..."

The grave tone was enough to stop him. "What?"

"Robin's at the hospital. We have to go."

"But we still have a week." Patrick argued.

"Something's happened."

"What do you mean? What are you talking about? I just talked to her."

"I don't know everything. Mac was still investigating...."

"Invest—" Patrick couldn't get the word out. "Lucky, what is going on? What happened?"

"Logan. Logan happened."

"No." Patrick whispered in torment. "No."

"Just get in my car and I'll tell you what I know."

"Is she...?" Patrick asked, needing to know this one answer before he accepted anything else.

"She's hurt. You need to get there now."

*****

"I'm looking for my wife, Robin Drake." Patrick forced his lips not to tremble as he spoke her name, yet again expecting to find her in the worst possible condition. If Lucky hadn't driven him here, he didn't know what he would have done. At this point, he was able to do things one at a time. Get into the car. Buckle his seatbelt. Get out of the car. Find Robin. Lucky hadn't known much more than he did, but he might as well have known nothing for all the sense it made to him.

Nurse Epiphany Johnson sent him a tight, empathetic smile. She wondered if he could really appreciate that the act was difficult for her. It just so happened that treating people didn't require a constant smile and gleeful attitude. She had seen too much, done too much, and lost too many. There was nothing to smile about. "She's in the O.R." Nurse Johnson explained.

"I want to see her. Where is it?" Patrick glanced in every direction.

"You can't see her just yet."

"The hell I can't!" Patrick roared.

"The doctors are extracting the bullet now. You'll just be in the way." She explained patiently.

"The...the bullet." It wasn't a question. He knew she had been shot. It was just strange to hear.

"Yes. When it hit, it shattered and they're trying to pick out the fragments."

"I want to see a doctor." Patrick demanded.

"There's nothing a doctor would tell you that I haven't."

"Patrick." Lucky had finally caught up with his cousin after he had bolted from his car. He placed a tentative hand on Patrick's shoulder. "Why don't you find Lucas? He should know more and answer some of your questions. At least the how and where."

Patrick spun around to fast, his vision blurring. "Yeah. Okay."

"I'll stay here and keep the doctors within arm's reach when they come out. Mom, Dad, and the rest of the family are on the way. You find Lucas and Morgan. I'll take care of this."

"If you hear anything..."

"I'll come running and find you." Lucky promised.

Patrick remembered the way to Pediatrics from Cameron's accident, but he would have preferred to get lost. What was he supposed to tell Morgan? He knew even less than his stepson. Lucas was standing outside the door when Patrick approached. "Patrick." It was a stale, monotonous tone and the younger man's eyes were deep, his skin sallow and unnatural looking. His eyes were red and swollen and Patrick wondered how long he had been here.

"Is he in there?" Patrick couldn't keep the panic out of his voice.

"Yes. The doctor said he has a mild concussion, but he should be able to go home tomorrow." Lucas didn't go on to say that his mother wouldn't be so lucky.

"How is he?" Stupid question, Patrick chided himself. How did he suppose Morgan was? He had just witnessed his mother being shot. This was the second attempt made on his life. Of course he would have no idea how bad the situation was until he asked. Lucas would know better than anyone. Patrick didn't let himself think about what could have happened if Lucas hadn't shown up.

"Physically, he's fine." Lucas answered vaguely.

"And?"

"And do you remember when Carly was killed?"

"Yes. What about it?"

"Remember how he stopped speaking completely? Dr. Wexler calls it something else."

Patrick waited a beat. "Lucas, spit it out."

"He's catatonic, Patrick." Lucas explained. "He won't speak a word. He won't even make eye contact. He just stares at the wall."

"Lucas, what happened?"

"Didn't Lucky tell you?"

"He didn't have a lot to go on. I know it involves my brother."

"That it does." Lucas gave Patrick a serrated smile, his eyes hard. "He lured her to an abandoned farmhouse."

"And he used Morgan to do it?"

"Yes. I wouldn't even have known he contacted her if Mac hadn't insisted I tap your phone." Lucas bowed his head. "I took too long."

"No, you got them out of there. It's more than I could have done." Patrick argued forcefully.

"I'll never forget the way her face looked right before she attacked him—"

"She what?"

"He was threatening her child and she wasn't going to let him get away with it."

"Why didn't she call and let someone know—?"

"Because he threatened to blind Morgan if she did."

"And while all of this was going on, I was off doing stupid stunts." Patrick wasn't actually talking to Lucas so his cousin didn't say anything in response.

"He had the gun to Morgan's head when I came in. When Robin knocked him out of the way, the gun scrambled across the floor and we wrestled for it. He got to it first and it went off, striking Robin in the upper right shoulder. Morgan knew what had happened before I did. Once Logan realized what had happened, he kind of stopped for a second and I used it to my advantage to get the gun away from him. In the commotion, Morgan got shoved down and the gun went off again. The bullet struck the wall and then I got control of it finally." Lucas decided now wasn't the best time to finish the story. "I called the hospital and told them I was bringing Robin and Morgan in and they met me in the parking lot."

"Where's Logan?" Patrick ground through his teeth.

"He won't be bothering anyone anymore." Lucas answered instead. "You should get in there and reassure Morgan. Maybe you can get him to talk."

"Lucas." But Patrick couldn't form the words. Appreciation was too mild a feeling.

"She's practically my older sister." Lucas waved off Patrick's thanks and beckoned him toward the door. "Your son needs you now."

*****

Wringing the well worn shirt in her hand, she asked herself for the millionth time what the hell she was doing. For weeks now, she had been begging Evan to leave her alone. To take his concern and his unwelcome reminders of a time that was most likely best forgotten and get out of her life. For good. And now that she gotten that wish, what was she doing? Standing outside the police station, clutching his damn shirt like a demented stalker.

And that didn't account for the amount of time she had found herself thinking about the last time she saw him. Or those kisses he had laid on her. Alright, technically she had started the whole kissing thing, but still it was his fault for being so damn good at it, Lulu reasoned. How had he gotten so good at it? Practice? Did she really want to think about his practice? Why the hell did that thought bother her so much?

Lulu stomped her foot on the ground and let out a frustrated growl. Damn it! He was supposed to leave her life and improve it! She wasn't supposed to keep finding damn reminders of him around her apartment! She definitely wasn't supposed to keep thinking about him whenever she let her mind wander. He was nothing. Less than nothing. An overprotective baby sitter/annoying bug. Evan Cassidy was not worth this, she told herself firmly as she squared her shoulders and pushed into the station. Just give him the shirt and you'll never ever have to see him again. It's what you want right?

Spotting him sitting at what she assumed was his desk she tossed the shirt at his head. "Here. You forgot something."

Her voice startled him. Her tone amused him. He fought back the threatening smile and looked up. "How sweet of you to return it to me."

"Please. It's called taking out the trash."

"Then why didn't you throw it away?"

Damn him for using logic! Lulu fixed her best glare on him. "Why'd you leave it?"

"I didn't mean to. When you conked out, I took a shower. I must have forgotten to take it with me." Despite her sharp tongue, she slept like an angel.

"Ew. Now I have to decontaminate my shower."

"Considering the company you keep, I'm surprised you haven't thought to do that yet." Evan rolled his eyes.

"Is there anything else I need to be on the watch for?" She did not want to be ambushed again by stumbling over a pair of his shoes or something.

"Well let's see..." He looked down at his belt. "The kinkiest we ever got was handcuffs and I have them here."

She could feel the blush working up the side of her neck and she looked to the floor. Damn him for the images she knew he was purposely putting in her head. "Not that you would ever know about that."

"I have an overactive imagination."

"Well you do have plenty of time to use it."

"Not so much now." Let her make of that what she would.

He wouldn't...no he couldn't have actually found a life that quickly could he? She shook her head. "Online gaming taking up a lot of time these days is it?"

"Actually this hit-and-run I'm working." Evan corrected.

"Hit and run...Steven Webber's case?" Of course she had heard bits and pieces of the story since it happened. The last time she had heard anything it was that there were no new leads. "You're looking for who hit Steven?"

"Well no one has come forward to confess." He tried to joke. It fell flat. He had been the one to find Steven Webber.

"Yeah I'm not surprised. Good luck with that. Steven's a good guy."

"Are you going to tell me the truth?"

"The truth? What are you talking about?"

"Why did you really stop by?"

"To give you your shirt genius. Did you forget already?"

"No, but I think it was just an excuse to see me. And I have to wonder why you would go to such trouble."

"Well it's not like I could mail it to you now could I?"

"Why not? You could have mailed it to the station. Or were you afraid of the questions that would inspire?"

"The questions?" She tried to ignore the butterflies that were taking flight in her stomach as he moved closer to her. "Have you been spending time with Vermin that I don't know about?"

"I wasn't referring to those types of questions. Everyone knows I was assigned to keep an eye on you. Are you worried they'll think I crossed some line?" He smiled. "Or are you disappointed that I didn't?"

"You are so full of yourself."

"Yeah well." He answered with a shrug.

"Did you hear about this?" Joe Rafferty, the new rookie, asked interrupting. He shoved the file in front of Evan's face in case he tried to ignore him.

"Logan Drake? What about him?" Evan challenged, his eyes squinting when he noticed Lulu flinch at the name. "Lulu?"

"Lo...Logan? Logan?"

"Lulu, what's the matter? Rafferty why is this important?" Evan growled, trying to comfort Lulu without scaring her. He knew if he so much as touched her, she'd run, but he didn't know why.

"He caught up with his ex-wife tonight. Both she and the kid are in the hospital as we speak."

"Robin? Morgan? Logan got near them?" Lulu gasped as she started to rock back and forth. "He got near them. He got near them."

"The commissioner's niece." Evan realized. "Lulu? Lulu, look at me please."

"It was a clean shot." Rafferty went on. "I guess that's what you can expect from a damn P.I."

"What are you babbling about now?"

"Logan Drake died tonight."

"He's dead? He's really dead?" Lulu whispered.

"Yeah. Apparently Jones didn't think enough of him to leave it to guesswork. He shot him four times at close range."

"I gotta get to GH. I got to be there." Lulu grabbed onto Evan's arm without seeming to realize it. "You got to get me there."

"Come on. I'll take you." Evan promised, leading her toward the door.