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"I'm in Boston."

"Son of a bitch. We're in P-Town."

What? Why is Sarge in P-Town? He's from Oregon. And who the fuck is we?

"Here's what you're going to do. Drop me a pin. I can be there in a couple of hours. Then we're going to sit down—"

"Wait. Wait. It's not a good time."

"Logan! I'm not letting you disappear again."

"No, I promise. It's just … my … um, my partner was shot today. Yesterday? I don't know what time it is. And I'm, well we, are going to be at the hospital for a few days at least."

"Jesus Christ, Logan. Lead with that next time! Are they okay? What happened?"

This was his chance to lay his cards out on the table. Tell his friend, the man who'd had his back in battle, the man he sat around fires getting drunk with, the truth about himself. Fuck, did Clay have the cold sweats like this when he came out to me?

"They … nohe. He was shot on the job. He's a detective with BPD. But the surgery was successful. The doc said he would make a full recovery."

There was nothing but silence streaming through his processors and Logan glanced down at the phone to see if the call got dropped. Should he say something? Should he hang up?

"I'm sorry your partner got hurt. But I'm really glad you found somebody after what happened to Adams. That's one of the reasons I've been so afraid for you. Losing your boyfriend like that, fuck Logan…"

Logan froze.

"Wha … what are you talking about, Sarge?"

"Seriously? You think I didn't know about the two of you?"

"But, you never … you could have … why didn't you…"

"I see you're as loquacious as ever." Long said, chuckling.

Logan shook the fog out of his brain. "Give me a few days to get Clay home, then we'll set a meet."

"You got it, Blue Ranger."

Chapter Sixteen

Afew days turned into a month, but with Thanksgiving behind them and Christmas looming, the time for stalling had ended. Clay's leave ended on Monday, but the doctors recommended desk duty only. A fact that Logan appreciated and Clay grumbled about. He picked up his phone and opened the new group chat with Long and Markham. In a moment of dark humor, Logan titled it The Last of Us.

Logan: You almost here?

Long: Turning onto Columbia now. Be there in 10 mikes

Logan: What about you, Black Ranger?

Markham: What about me, what?

Logan: ETA?

Markham: Time is a construct of mortals. I have no need for such trivialities.

Logan: I thought I was the one with the traumatic brain injury?

Markham: Blue Ranger has a new nickname…Scarecrow!

Logan: I don't get it