Aug. 23rd, 2009

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He'd been with Joe and Dale, trying to find Logan and John...then he was in his own bed and blinking at the bright island sun as it poured in the window. It had all seemed so real, even if he knew it hadn't been. He'd died. Logan had been taken by a psychopath. It was hard to adjust to finding himself safe in bed next to the other man.

"Logan," he said, rolling quickly and kissing him on the mouth. "God, Logan...we're back. You're okay. We're home."

Home or not, he couldn't shake off the stange feeling of dying and coming back to life. He couldn't shake off the panic and urgency of having to find Logan along with Joe and Dale. Like any bad dream, it clung to him and made his skin crawl even though he knew they were all okay.

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