A/N: Thank you all for your interest in this story, thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows. For those of you that I didn't personally get back to via message, thank you very much for leaving your thoughts. I really appreciate every one of your comments and hope you continue to enjoy this story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Rating: T++ for an F* bombs

Chapter 3 Diving Back In

Veronica found herself at Mars Investigations. It had taken her a little while to find the office because she'd never been to the new location. Parking on the street out front, Veronica pulled out her father's office key before looking through the windshield at the building. There was nothing spectacular about it, she noted as she climbed out of the car. She let herself in through the front entrance and made her way up to the third floor.

The damp smell of mold assaulted her nostrils when she opened MI's door. The space felt dirty and dingy, but she took no time to reflect about it as she headed straight to the inner office to Keith's desk. She immediately began rifling through the drawers and papers that were within.

There were no notes written anywhere regarding a possible connection between Keith and Deputy Sacks. She didn't find anything in her dad's files that contained even a hint of a reason for them to meet. Veronica sat back against the leather of the office chair, deep in thought. Her eyes roamed the room until they lit on the safe in a back corner.

Blowing out a long breath, Veronica pushed the chair away from the desk and stood up. She sauntered over to the safe and crouched down to inspect it. If she could figure out the combination she'd be golden. The safe was where her dad had always put his most important case files. Veronica thought it was fair to assume that her dad wouldn't have taken the file home last night, because he wasn't planning on meeting Sacks. Carrie's file was on Keith's kitchen table, confirming the fact that he had planned on meeting Logan. There had been no other files that she'd found. It stood to reason Sacks had called unexpectedly. Any information regarding Sacks' case was most likely inside the safe.

She twirled the dial. Keith's rule that all combinations be random was great for keeping skilled bad guys out, but not so great when his lawyer daughter needed access. Although Veronica knew that it was futile, she tried his birthday. She tried her birthday. She tried her parents wedding date and was relieved when that combination of numbers didn't work.

She tried various combinations for over twenty minutes. Nothing worked and she was out of ideas. Damn her dad's thoroughness.

The information on Keith's laptop was just as elusive. She'd already tried to crack its password the night before, but quickly had given up. She'd been exhausted and knew that her dad had top-notch encryption on his computer. It wouldn't be easy for her to gain access.

It was time to bring in the big dogs. She pulled out her phone and dialed. The phone rang a few times before Mac finally answered.

"'Lo?"

"Hey, Mac. How about that dinner?"

***Break**

The house was his for the afternoon. While Logan appreciated the quietness, he didn't like how the silence made his mind spin in circles. He couldn't get Veronica out of his head.

Speaking to Veronica, and watching her leave as quickly as she'd come, had taken its toll. His body had required an outlet. Surfing had been liberating; it had taken time out of reality. Surfing released a lot of that built up stress, and it kept his mind busy. He'd been able to forget all about the vulnerability he'd seen in her eyes and how small she'd looked.

But now that Logan was alone, all he could see was her face when he closed his eyes. Having Veronica show up this morning had brought with it a flood of memories of their time together. Days when she used to meet him at the beach with a basket full of food. She'd watch him while he surfed. They would talk. They would make out.

He'd been able to touch her back then.

He really needed to get her off of his mind. Wishing for her to look at him the way she used to was not healthy. Recalling her laugh and the spark in her eyes when they'd argue, or how they'd light up when he was about to kiss her…

Snap out of it, Logan berated himself. He'd seen her for a total of ten minutes at most. What the hell was his problem?

But Logan knew what his problem was; he'd been on a freakin' aircraft carrier for that past three months. While he was deployed there was no option whatsoever of getting laid. His problem was that he hadn't had a girlfriend or sex in….well, it was embarrassing to even admit how long. Carrie didn't count. She was different.

Seeing Veronica today was stirring up senseless emotions and awareness that he'd tamped down long ago. But was it really senseless if it was those memories that had kept him going for nine years? Logan was ashamed to realize that, despite his best efforts, he didn't really have those feelings locked away like he'd thought he had. They were still right on the surface, present as ever.

Disgusted with himself, he decided to quit thinking about her altogether. Logan showered and changed into his running clothes. Running would clear his mind and release more tension. He laced up his shoes and headed out.

Logan set off from Dick's back porch and ran down the beach at a heady pace. He ran and he ran without any destination in mind or attention of time or distance. When he'd first joined the Navy, Logan had learned to tolerate running. Now, after years of running every day, he'd even become slightly addicted to it. The solitude running afforded him was something that he'd never realized he needed. It was therapeutic. There was something about it, the placing of one foot in front of the other, the keeping a steady pattern of breathing, and the concentration of the sport, that calmed him. Now running kept him from thinking about anything except running.

***Break***

The little restaurant was bustling with activity when Veronica arrived. She stepped in and immediately spotted Mac sitting at a table by the window. Grateful that Mac was able to just drop whatever it was that she'd been doing to meet her, Veronica slid into the seat opposite her and sighed. "There's nothing that a good piece of lasagna can't fix."

Mac, who was reading her menu, poked her head over it and grinned, "And maybe a good glass of wine? I ordered some vegetarian Italian Nachos."

"Pretty early to be hittin' the sauce, don't ya think?"

"After the past couple days, I'm thinking wine is some pretty tame sauce," Mac remarked dryly. She squinted as if trying to read Veronica's expression. "How's your dad?"

"The doctors say at least three more days until I can see him. Smuggling in a cannoli is out I'm afraid."

The waiter interrupted them then by setting the large platter of nachos between them.

Veronica eyed the food hungrily. "Let's dig in."

**Break**

It wasn't until they'd done some serious damage to the nachos and each ordered a slice of lasagna that Veronica set her fork down and stared intently at her friend.

Mac immediately set her own utensil down and waited.

"So." Veronica pursed her lips. "I called Wallace."

"Okay."

"He's said he was in San Diego two nights ago for a game."

Mac's expression tightened. She broke their eye contact and stared at her plate. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh. He didn't know anything about Dad or the accident." Veronica waited a beat. "I thought you said that Wallace with you that night." Veronica placed her hands on the table and adjusted the plate in front of her.

"I never actually said that Wallace was there. You assumed he was and I didn't correct you." Mac defended in a small voice. "You never actually asked who was with me."

"Why would you let me think that?" Veronica asked, her voice hitching accusingly. She'd been thinking about this ever since she'd talked to Wallace. "If Wallace wasn't with you, then who was?"

Mac's mumble was indiscernible but Veronica already knew the answer.

She sighed. "Logan stayed with you, didn't he?"

"No." Mac's response was too adamant, too quick. When Veronica raised her eyebrows skeptically, Mac squirmed in discomfort and gave her a reluctant smile, "The truth of the matter is that I stayed with Logan. He left right before you got there."

"He stayed the whole time?" Veronica repeated, stunned. She had figured that Logan had waited for Mac to get there, stayed a few hours at the most, and then left. "He really stayed?"

Mac grimaced slightly. "Well, yeah, he did. He called, frantic, begging me to call you. He didn't want me to tell you that he was there, because…actually, I don't really know why. I guess you'll have to ask him."

Logan's desire for anonymity wasn't something Veronica needed to ask him about. She understood his reasons all too well. But the thought of Logan toiling all night and day with Mac in that waiting room, waiting for news on her dad, did something to Veronica. It twisted and pulled deep inside her gut; her throat closed up with the effort to keep it from unfurling.

The waiter appeared at that very moment with their dinner. He placed the plates down with flourish and gave them each a strange little bow. The awkwardness of his actions broke the seriousness of the moment, and the two of the smirked at each other, glad for the distraction. The waiter silently sauntered off after ensuring that they didn't need anything else.

"So you mentioned last night that you got a different job?" Veronica asked as she forked a bite of lasagna. "By the way, if you can't finish your piece over there, I'd be happy to help."

"Are you kidding?" Mac pulled her plate closer and hunched over it protectively. "Leave me out of your lasagna fixation. That's why I ordered my own vegetarian slice. I wanted to at least taste it, thank you very much."

"Fair enough," Veronica answered, looking forlornly over at Mac's side of the table. "But I really think I would enjoy it more effectively than you will."

"Just because I suppress the urge to moan after every bite doesn't mean I'm not enjoying it just as much as you would," Mac retorted before taking a large bite. She gave an exaggerated moan. "Mmm…yeah, that's good stuff right there."

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Veronica pulled them back to the previous conversation. "You didn't answer my question. About your job."

"Oh…that…" Mac answered, not meeting her eye. "You're not going to like that answer either."

"Like it? Why do I have to like it? It's not me that has to sit there from nine to five."

Mac leveled a dirty look at Veronica but still didn't meet her gaze. "It's seven-thirty to three-thirty, thank you very much. You'd like that part at least."

Veronica raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Ooh, out early, huh? Well, you beat the really bad traffic, at least."

Mac ignored the look that Veronica threw her direction. "You know it."

"Mac?" Veronica asked, scrunching her head down in an attempt to look her friend in the eye. "What aren't you telling me?"

***Break***

Kane Software. Mac worked for Kane Software.

Veronica let herself into her dad's house and tiredly dropped her purse onto a small side table.

With the shock of Mac's news, Veronica had forgotten to pull Keith's laptop out during dinner. It wasn't until they were headed to their cars that Veronica remembered to hand it to Mac. Her friend had taken the computer eagerly, with a promise to have it cracked and back to her before work the next morning.

Veronica's head was spinning.

She'd been gone nine years and everything was different. Nothing had stayed the same; everything had evolved and moved forward without her. Somehow Mac had been sucked into the crowd of Kane-cronies. Mac had sold out to the Kane-loving crowd while Veronica had been off conquering the world. But that was only the beginning.

Tired, Veronica made her way to the couch and sat down. She dug the remote out from under her and turned the television on, immediately muting the sound. She wasn't really interested in anything that the television could give her except the company that it offered.

The flash of the television screen flickered on the walls. Veronica tried to empty her mind, but it would not stop reeling.

Deep down in her gut, she knew that what had happened to her dad was the culmination of something big. Sacks had been intentionally targeted. Veronica's spidey-sense was tingling.

It was possible that Logan may have seen something. He'd been there when the accident had happened and he was the only witness that she knew of.

Veronica needed to talk to him, really talk to him, and find out everything he knew. Keith had been working multiple cases; Logan could have seen Sacks in passing or heard something. It was likely that Logan might know something that could clue her in to what was going on.

She didn't want to talk to him.

…did she?

Well she had to, whether she wanted to or not.

***Break***

The buzzing of machines sliced through Logan's skull; a bright beam of light pierced through his closed eyelids from overhead. His hands felt heavy and the burning in his shoulder was as unfamiliar as it was painful.

He was lying down and moving at the same time. His mind was slow to process that realization, but it felt wrong even before the sensation caught up with him. All around him were urgent voices, stage whispers and high-pitched orders assaulted him from every direction at the same time.

Finally yielding to exhaustion and the heaviness, Logan let himself succumb to the temptation of sleep.

***Break***

Veronica sent a text to Mac requesting Logan's number. When the reply came in, Veronica stared at it, surprised that his number was the same as it had been back in college. She chose not to think about how close she had come to dialing that very number many times over the years. She chose not to acknowledge that he would have answered the call each and every time.

Not letting her traitorous mind talk her out of calling this time, Veronica firmly pressed send and put the phone to her ear. She took a deep breath while she counted to ten, waiting for Logan to answer.

Maybe it would go to voicemail.

After the fourth ring the call connected. There was a long pause before a rustling sound came though from the other end, making Veronica wince. After an even longer pause, the phone disconnected.

Confused, Veronica dialed again. Once again, the call connected and there was a long span of silence before she heard what sounded like Dick's muffled yell, "I'll only be a minute!" followed by a panicked, "Can't talk right now, Ronnie. We're at the hospital," into the phone. And then the call disconnected.

Hospital? Dully, Veronica pulled the phone from her ear.

***Break***

She didn't stop to consider how Dick knew who was on the line. Veronica merely grabbed her purse and ran out the door, pulling her jacket on as she went. She peeled out of her father's driveway and drove as fast as she dared through the streets on what was now the familiar route to Neptune General.

Traffic was minimal, which was a blessing for Veronica. Her mind was racing and her hands shook. Not having to weave in and out of traffic made it easier for her to get to the hospital. Earlier Veronica had turned off the radio, and now the silence was deafening. The lack of sound filled the car.

She kept driving.

***Break***

The pain in his head had diminished from a raging fire to a dull ache. Logan opened his eyes slowly; the bright overhead lights caused him to wince. The walls around him were the sterile white of a hospital room.

Alarmed, Logan jerked up, causing a shooting pain to charge across the back of his skull. He quickly fell back against the pillow beneath him. Cautiously, his eyes tracked to where Dick sat, leaning back in a chair, at the foot of the bed that Logan occupied. His friend hadn't yet realized that Logan had awoken.

He began taking stock of his condition. Both of his feet rested beneath a pale blue blanket, all limbs accounted for, he saw with relief. He worked his way from top to bottom, noting that his shoulder was bandaged and that an IV was attached to his wrist.

Had his plane been shot down? He racked his brain trying to remember how he'd gotten himself into his current situation. The last thing he remembered was…

Running.

He'd left for a run after Dick had headed to work. Logan recalled turning down the sidewalk toward the pier, choosing to run along the beachside businesses. He had stopped for a while near Dick's surf shop and then headed back, changing his path to return down a different street to keep the sun out of his eyes.

It seemed that the route had been an ill-fated choice. He remembered that he'd been about a block from Dick's street when he'd felt a burning sting that had taken him immediately down. The fall was mostly due to momentum; his steps had faltered, causing him to stumble and land in a heap on the ground with his hands outstretched before him.

He'd seen the blood before the acrid smell of it had reached his nostrils, but it hadn't been until a second bullet hit the parked car next to him that Logan had comprehended that what he was seeing was his blood. He'd looked up and around just in time to see a dark sedan zoom past. With one more, quick glance, he had ducked for better cover. He'd kept his body out of sight as he'd dodged between houses all the way to the beach and then run as fast as possible to Dick's house. Somehow he'd safely made his way back to Dick's house, all the while keeping his guard up, on constant lookout for another possible attack. Among other things, Logan recalled being pissed. He still was.

It had been pure adrenaline that had gotten him to Dick's back door. Because what he remembered now was only barely being able to open the door before falling across the threshold.

Gingerly, Logan fingered the back of his head. It appeared that he'd bashed his head at some point, maybe from that fall. He certainly didn't remember being struck in the head by a bullet, but that didn't rule out the possibility entirely. There was every chance in the world that the second bullet had grazed him. It would explain why he'd gone in and out of consciousness, as well as why the memory had been hazy up until now. He likely had a slight concussion.

***Break***

"Good news, Mr. Echolls."

Logan's eyes cut to the doorway as a doctor stepped into the room. The man wore the obligatory white coat and flipped through the chart in his hands as he slowly strolled farther into the room.

A flare of impatience that Logan hadn't felt in years stabbed through him. He'd just given his statement to a rookie cop who didn't seem to know the difference between a victim and suspect. He had no strength left to put up with the world's slowest doctor.

"They find me a donor already?" Logan quipped with a stoic smile. "Yippee."

The doctor cleared his throat, frowning at Logan's tone. "Young man, I'm referring to the bullet wound in your shoulder."

"It's been years since I've been called a young man, so thank you, Doctor…" Logan made a show of squinting at the name embroidered on the man's smock, "Miller. I'll check on that transplant tomorrow, then. What's the news on the shoulder?"

Dr. Miller gave him a hard look. "Sir, perhaps you are in some kind of shock. Head injuries can do that. As far as I can see, you have no medical history that would factor in to the injuries that you sustained tonight." When Logan only responded with a flat smile, the doctor fidgeted with the clipboard before pressing it to his chest. "Your injuries are minimal. The shoulder laceration is a clean through and through, very little tissue damage. The wound on your head will likely give you a nasty headache for a while, but you'll soon be right as rain."

"Right as rain?" Logan echoed softly, his eyebrows rose, suddenly serious, "Will it affect my clearance to fly? I'm in the Navy, Sir, and I have to be able to fly."

Seemingly grateful for Logan's switch in attitude, the doctor nodded enthusiastically. "I've passed the necessary information to the base. They'll have already received your records electronically. I'm sure they'll want you to be checked out by their own physicians, but I don't foresee any problem on that end. You shouldn't feel any weakness in that arm after you give it some time to heal. You're very lucky."

"Luck isn't really what I'd call it," Logan mused out loud.

After a few unpleasant minutes of poking and prodding, Dr. Miller left Logan, but not before promising to release him after a few more hours of observation. Logan had half a mind to insist on being discharged right then and there, but he knew that that if he didn't comply with medical advice it could have long lasting affects. If the Navy got wind of his lack of cooperation they could ground him, so he grudgingly decided to stay put for the night.

Dick, having vacated Logan's room right before the doctor came in, reappeared and sat down heavily on the foot of the bed. "How ya feelin', man?"

"I can't leave 'til the morning."

"Trust me, dude, morning might be too soon. You look like shit."

"Thanks." Logan blew out a breath. "How did you find me, man?"

"Miss Connor down the street heard some commotion and watched you run through everyone's backyard. She called 911 and then me." Dick awkwardly patted Logan's blanketed foot. "I got there just as the ambulance was hauling you off. I followed you after grabbing some things…that duffle you have of your stuff, your phone…which, by the way, looks like it got run over by a steam roller, man. I would have thought it got shot, too, what happened to it? You know what? Never mind, dude, it doesn't matter. Hell, you're alive. Right now that's all that matters."

Dick stood up and began pacing at the small space at the end of Logan's bed. "Who the hell shot at you, man? My neighborhood isn't exactly a Gangsta's Paradise. Did you see anything?"

"Just a car taking off. It's all pretty fuzzy. I wasn't exactly expecting it. My mind and eyes were looking ahead, not to the side. It's the last thing that crossed my mind—me as a target."

"Yeah, but God, Logan, why you? There's never been a shooting in that neighborhood, and then you come along and get yourself shot." Dick stopped pacing and turned to face him. "Do you think it's because of Carrie? Someone got her, so now they're going after you? Did the cop think that?"

"That cop didn't give a fuck. And I highly doubt it has anything to do with Carrie's murder." Logan had been thinking about everything since he'd woken up. It was obvious to him that someone thought he was a witness. Someone wanted Logan out of the way.

He'd deliberately chosen not to tell Dick about hiring Keith or his involvement in Carrie's case. His friend had no idea that Keith had been hurt; Logan had noticed earlier that the news hadn't reported it either. It was likely that the incident would escape the limelight.

But someone knew that Logan had been there and that he was a witness. No one, aside from Keith and Mac, knew that Logan had initiated the investigation that had solved Carrie's murder. In that light, Logan deduced that he had been attacked because of what he had seen at Keith's house two nights before.

Dick was looking at him doubtfully. Logan looked back at him and opened his mouth to tell him about Sacks and Keith. Just as he did so, the door creaked open and both men's attention was drawn to the Veronica's form as she rushed in.

Logan's mind went blank.

The sight of the two of them appeared to slow her down. Her steps, so purposeful seconds before, seemed to falter when her eyes connected with his. She pulled at her purse's strap, drawing it farther onto her shoulder. Her expression was not definable as she stepped closer.

Looking at Veronica made Logan feel old. She seemed impossibly young and fragile, while he sat there, confined to a bed, unable to do anything but watch her. At the foot of the bed, Dick stood bouncing on the balls of his feet, his antsy energy palpable. Logan himself felt unsure as to why Veronica was there and he asked the first thing that popped into his head, "Is it your dad? Is he all right?"

"No, you idiot, it's you. Dick told me you were here." The words came out in a breathless hush. Logan could tell by the quick way it gusted from her lips that she was barely holding it together.

She stood closer to the side of the bed and took in the whole picture of him lying there. Logan could imagine what Veronica saw and cringed at the thought: Logan bandaged, hooked to an IV, wearing a hospital gown, and covered in a blanket with gauze wrapped around his head.

More than once Logan had wondered if Veronica would even care if his plane was shot down over enemy lines; if she was even interested in whether he lived or died. During some of the most insane missions that he'd flown, he'd always taken a second to ponder how she would handle news of his death or injury. Now he knew, because, for the briefest of moments, he saw it written plainly across her face. He personally witnessed the near panic and sheer relief flit across her features as their eyes met.

The surge of bliss Logan felt at the knowledge that Veronica cared was quickly tamped when he realized that Keith Mars was in this very hospital, only a few floors above him, in a similar state; and that Veronica had yet to see him. Logan hurt for her. He knew she would rather be in that room, looking at that man.

She broke the connection to glance at Dick. "You said you were here… I didn't know what to think. I guess….after what happened with Dad I just thought the worst." Looking back to Logan, Veronica demanded, "What happened?"

"Dude, who'd you screw to find this room?" Dick answered for Logan with demands of his own. "And what do you mean? What happened with your dad?"

Logan flinched, jerking under Dick's accusing glare. "Dick," he heard himself warn.

Dick was immediately contrite and grimaced at him apologetically. To Veronica, Dick said, "Our pal here was shot."

"Shot?" Veronica breathed. She stepped closer but then seemed to catch herself. "Are you all right?"

"Just a flesh wound," Logan answered in a faux-British accent, "I've had worse in training drills." He lifted his arm and lost the accent, "Whoever it was has very bad aim."

"Not that bad if it landed you in here." Veronica gave up trying to keep her distance. She sat down in the chair next to his bed that Dick had occupied most of the evening. With a tone of mild concern, she asked, "Did you see who shot at you?"

"No; just a dark car that squealed by." Taking her silence as a sign that she was waiting for him to elaborate, Logan recounted the whole story, ending with, "I didn't know if the person followed me from the street, but when there was no noise, I chanced it and made a run for Dick's place." He shrugged, "I made it in one piece. Dick's neighbor called 911."

"Did the police take a report?" Veronica probed, her face white. "Please tell me they took a report."

Dick interrupted then, taking Logan's hesitation as opportunity. "Lamb sent over some newbie deputy to write one up; that's what Logan was doing when you called."

"Do you know who would have done this?" Veronica queried. "What kinds of enemies do you keep nowadays?"

"Nice," Logan muttered under his breath. And so it begins. It's just like Veronica to assume that I created the am I not surprised? "Did it ever occur to you that I might have been at the wrong place at the wrong time? It could have been gang related, like an initiation shooting or something. That happens, even in Neptune!"

"This is you we're talking about, Logan. The possibility of this being a random act is not even remotely likely, and you know it," she retorted before changing the subject. "The night of Dad's attack, did you see anything?"

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. "So, you want to do this right now? Here?"

"I do. I think it's related to what happened tonight to you."

He sighed. "Fine. I saw an old truck come down the street, hit Sacks' car, turn around, and hit it a second time. I never saw the driver. It was well past dark and I was more intent on getting your dad out of the passenger seat than I was on taking notes for you." He let another snarky rejoinder die on his lips when he saw her earnest expression. Instead he softened his voice and told her, "I'm tired. Maybe you should go on up to the fifth floor and see how your dad is doing. They're planning to release me in the morning; you can harass me with more questions later." He hated to brush her off, but it was for her own good. In actuality, he agreed almost one hundred percent with Veronica's assessment of the situation. But there was no way he would tell her that. If he did, it would mean getting her involved in something dangerous. He had no intention of being the one to pull her back into the world that she had walked away from.

Veronica sat back in the chair. She rolled her lips inward as though thinking of a way to press him further. He was surprised, however, when she gave him a silent nod, stood up, and hoisted her bag's strap firmly onto her shoulder.

"I'm glad you're all right. Get some rest." She looked indecisive but then added, "When you feel up to it, I really would like to talk to you about…that night. I have some questions that only you can answer. And, please, if you think of anything else, let me know. I can't stand not knowing why this happened. To either of you."

With that, Veronica left.

***Break***

"Dude, what happened with Ronnie's dad?"

Dick's voice cut through Logan's wandering thoughts. Without opening his eyes, Logan muttered, "I assume you're asking why didn't I tell you he almost died?"

"No, man," Dick's voice was accusing, "Why you failed to mention you pulled him out of a car while under a…a…an attack! You could have been killed and for what!? What has Keith Mars ever done for you?"

Logan sat up straighter so that he could look Dick square in the face. "First of all, I can't even believe you would say that. Keith Mars…Keith Mars is more of a man than either of our fathers ever even tried to be. Second of all, me getting involved wasn't something I thought about; I just reacted. My adrenaline was pumping and there was glass flying and metal crunching. You weren't there; you have no idea what the hell it's like be in the 'under an attack'," he mimicked. "I don't just wait to see what happens when I'm in the middle of something like that, man, and, hell, if you do, you can just fuck off. Don't judge me for doing more than you would do, Dick."

Logan watched his friend crumble before his eyes. Dick's posture wilted from ramrod straight to completely slumped over Logan's bed. "That's why you are a lieutenant in the Navy, man, and I surf for a living. You're just built better than me; you always were." The blond man shook his head. "I'm just having a little trouble wrapping my head around all this. I'm used worrying about you when you're overseas, dude, not when you're stateside. I come home tonight to find that you nearly bled to death on my doorstep. Now I find out that it could have happened twice in a week? Fucking Neptune! I haven't had to wonder about hits on you for almost nine years, man, what the hell am I supposed to think? You tell me how I'm supposed to feel. I don't want to bury another friend, Logan." With the last sentence, Dick's voice cracked, and Logan watched as his friend push his fists into the bed more firmly. "You should only put your life on the line when I'm nowhere near you. Cuz then I can't try to prevent it."

"The bonds of friendship, right?"

"Damn straight, dude. You've kept me off the brink more times than I care to count; can't I return the favor for once?"

"I think it is pretty much out of my hands at this point, Dick. If Veronica's theory is true, I might be in for a ride whether I want to be on it or not. And with Veronica…her assumptions, regarding the big things, usually have credence."

Dick sighed and flopped his body hard into a chair. "And here I thought Ronnie stopped by this morning just for old time's sake. How naïve of me."

A/N: Looking like it may be more like 2 weeks between postings, just because of summer and life.

But I hope you are enjoying this story!