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Reid's brain had gone into hyperdrive.

Tan-furred hands quivered and shook like those of a man three times his age as he tried to push a 13mm deep socket onto a hex nut holding an exhaust manifold in place. He could hear the tool laughing at him. Frustration took over. A chilly sweat breached his brow, stinging his eyes while he muttered swear words under his breath. The socket bounced around and slipped on the edges of the bolt head.

Thoughts of Aiden were becoming a bar to his concentration. What had he been doing that night? Had he shot someone? Were the police after him? Finally, the socket locked onto the nut after several tries, and he started to crank on it. Unfortunately, his palms were just as sweaty as his forehead, and his hand slipped off the wrench's handle, sending the tool clattering to the floor.

"Reid?"

Spots clouded his vision. Confusion began to set in. Out of the blue, he stumbled, taking an awkward half-step forward and falling gracelessly to the oil-stained concrete floor, shaking and twitching.

"Reid!" Everyone in the area beat feet to where the cattle dog lay, shaking uncontrollably and sweating profusely.

"Back up, give him some air!" Chris said, peeling off his shirt and placing it underneath Reid's head while Vance dialed 911. Kelvin stood there in shock; clutching a wrench in his hand and watching the scene unfold with terror in his eyes that could not adequately show the fear inside.

An ambulance picked him up six minutes later.

***

Reid woke up in the emergency room, though he couldn't tell right away. He couldn't see for the bright lights in the room, and his vision was too blurry to make out what the large, black shape on his chest was.

An IV had been inserted into the crook of his right arm, and something was gripping the hand of his left. Next to him, an EKG beeped, displaying his elevated blood pressure. Water sounded good. Several seconds passed before he could see, and once he could, he realized that Kelvin's head was on his chest, and the Shiba Inu's hand was clasped tightly around his.

Kelvin sat up with a gasp as though he'd been having a nightmare. His eyes were red and puffy, and he turned to look at Reid with no less concern than he'd had the moment the cattle dog collapsed at work.

"Hey." Reid whispered.

"Hey."

"What happened?"

"You collapsed. Started seizing..."

"Where?"

"At work. You were under a car, and you dropped a wrench, and you just...fell."

"What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock."

"Aiden, where-"

"He's on his way. I called him; he should be here soon."

"Okay." Reid relaxed into the bed and closed his eyes, trying to tune out the telltale sounds of the hospital ward. It was a wonder that he was able to relax at all. They must have pumped him full of drugs to get his blood pressure down before his heart exploded.

"What did the doctor say?"

Kelvin felt his mouth go dry.

"They're...putting you on the donor waiting list."

Reid felt a feeling of calm wash over him. It may have been the drugs, but he wanted to believe that he'd finally come to terms with his own mortality, that he'd passed up every stage of grief all the way to acceptance.

Kelvin, ever the loyal friend, hadn't left his side the entire time; only when he was forced to sit in consternation in the hospital's waiting room while they pumped enough drugs into his friend to bring him back to reality, or some semblance of it. They hadn't even put him in a room, merely in a cordoned-off area, shielded from view by a curtain wall. There was one bed - Reid's - and Kelvin was not allowed in it with him, so he'd taken a seat in a nearby chair, using the heeler's chest for a pillow and eventually falling asleep to his heartbeat.

Kelvin was his only regret.

What if they'd come into one another's lives sooner? He remembered what Paul had said about fate. What did it all mean? Why was it happening now?

Speak of the devil. Paul lumbered into the curtain room and laid a hand on the Shiba Inu's shoulder.

"Why don't you go home and get some rest, son?"

"I don't want to."

"He's still going to be here in the morning, don't worry. He'll be fine. I need you sharp for work tomorrow, huh?"

Paul had a way of convincing people of things, like spending eight thousand dollars on a supercharger that they didn't need. It was going to be a little more difficult convincing Kelvin that Reid was still going to be alive in the morning. He didn't want to let go. Not yet. He opened his mouth to speak, but it looked as though his hero had drifted off to sleep. Finally, he released his grip and stood up, his back sore from sitting in the hard plastic chair for hours on end.

"See you tomorrow, Paul."

Kelvin appeared slowly from behind the curtain out into the maelstrom of the emergency room. Slow, calculated steps led him out of the lobby, and on his way out, he passed a United States Marine, striding smoothly along with purpose in his step, looking as sharp as a razor in his dress alphas. He was a cattle dog, like Reid. Kelvin had to wonder if it was his brother - he'd mentioned having one before.

Gunnery Sergeant Xavier Travis was a 16 year veteran of the United States Marine Corps. While older brother Reid sought out a life fast and loose, the younger Xavier had enlisted right out of High School. Now thirty-four, he had six tours of duty between Iraq and Afghanistan. He'd cut his teeth on killing, and his jaw was set with a default expression of discipline, honor, and courage. He was a head turner, the James Dean of the two brothers. His shoes were polished to a mirror shine. The belted, olive green jacket fit him like a Greek God, and was bedecked with a ribbon rack four rows high and three columns wide, including a Bronze Star and Purple Heart.

"Gunny Sarge." Paul said, shaking hands with the cattle dog. "Semper fi."

"Semper fi. He in there?"

"Yeah." Xavier disappeared behind the curtain, and the bear turned back towards the door, his face darkening when he noticed Aiden. Paul moved faster than he had in years, intercepting the lab at the door.

"Paul! Where's Reid?"

"Outside!" The bear stated curtly and grabbed the dog by the arm, dragging him back out into the night.

"What's going on?"

"Where's your car?" Paul demanded. Aiden appeared confused, but pointed to a blue Mustang in the parking lot. They'd made it halfway there by the time Paul smelled the telltale scent of a smoky clutch.

Sniff. Sniff. Sniiiifffffffff.

"You been racing tonight, boy?"

"What? No, I just came from work. That clutch is tough to get used to; it bites early. I - hey!"

The Mustang rocked violently when Paul grabbed Aiden by his designer dress shirt and pinned him against the door.

"Your boyfriend's dying of liver failure the hospital and you haven't got enough sense to get here; you've got to have a day at the races, first?"

"Paul, I wasn't racing, I swear!"

"Hector told me everything, you shit! Your betting, your racing, all of it. You're going to drag him down with you. If you love him, then get right. Get right, or I will make sure you get gone, you got that?"

Aiden nodded.

"Yes sir." He said with tail tucked, quiet and timid as a scolded schoolboy. Paul let him down, and he smoothed his shirt out, hands shaking.

"Um. How's he doing?"

Paul shook his head.

"Not well. I'm guessing they told you about what happened at work. They took him in, got some meds in him; he's been stable since then. Doctor said the CT scan didn't look good. Said he wasn't going to do the biopsy. No point."

Aiden stared at the pavement and drummed his fingers against the door of his car.

"They put him on the donor waiting list." Paul looked up at the night sky. "There are over sixteen thousand people on the same list in the United States. I looked it up." He turned to look at the lab. "Sixteen thousand. What kind of odds are those?"

***

Xavier pulled the chair out some so that he could sit down. Gently, he placed his cover on the rolling tray table and took a seat, both feet flat on the floor, his back straight, and his hands in his lap; the picture perfect, healthy, clean cut Marine.

"Fuck you." Reid muttered without even looking at him. Xavier couldn't help but laugh. The older heeler grinned with his eyes closed, joining him in as much of the mirth as his body would allow him to.

"What's up?"

"My alternator's burned out, I need a new one."

The Marine chuckled. Reid opened his eyes and blinked a few times, staring pensively up at the ceiling. The news was playing low on a television suspended from it.

"How long's it been, Xavier?"

"I don't know anymore. I lost count after about four years. What was it, Christmas of 2009?"

"Something like that. I remember that one. Mom got so drunk on egg nog at that Christmas party that we had to take her home. Had a little too much fun, I guess. Can't say I blame her." Xavier relaxed as much as the plastic-backed chair would allow. "From what I hear she did the same thing at her retirement party last year."

"Maybe that's where I get it from. Oof..." A wave of nausea passed over the older brother, but it faded quickly - likely a byproduct of the medication they'd put him on. "How's retirement going for her?"

Xavier's response was curt and tight-lipped.

"Maybe you should call and ask her."

He grunted with disapproval.

"She feels guilty, Reid. I know you two had your disagreements, but it would mean everything to her if you would just call her and talk to her. I'm not saying drive out there and spend a weekend with her, just...call her while you still can."

"Please, don't try to bury me before I'm dead." Reid's head sank back down into the pillow and he shut out the light.

"I'm not talking about you." He responded quickly. "Mom isn't going to be around forever." Xavier paused for a moment, and his blue eyes flicked down to the linoleum floor. "She's not in the best health anymore, you know. I'm simply saying that it would be beneficial to both of you if you would just call her."

Reid said nothing. Xavier sighed and reached out and took his brother's hand in his own.

"I'm glad I was in the area so that I could come see you. I'm just sorry I can't stay longer; I have to get back to base. It was good seeing you again, Reid. I'm just sorry it had to be like this."

"Me too. Shame we didn't visit more often. Camp Pendleton's not even that far away, now that I think about it."

"Yeah, it's only about an hour. Listen. Don't start saying your goodbyes. You've fought too hard for too long to give up now. Life hasn't been easy for me either, but quitting is not an option."

"Aye aye, sir." Reid whispered. He felt Xavier squeeze his hand, and he returned the gesture, albeit weaker. Next to him, the younger dog picked up his cover, tucked it under his arm and strode out of the room without another word.

***

No more than a minutes' time had passed before the curtain was thrown aside and Aiden appeared in the room, rushing to the heeler's bedside.

"Baby..." He whispered, dropping to one knee and gripping Reid's wrist and hand.

"I'm fine. I'll be fine." Reid said, exasperatedly. All he really wanted at that moment was to go to sleep, but after the day he'd had, he wasn't sure if he would be able to. Aiden had to admire his resolve - between being hunted by unknown assailants and the heeler's condition, the lab was in as bad of shape as he'd ever been. He'd spent the day at work going over personal finances, and looking at properties for sale in places like Seattle, Portland, and Vancouver.

Finally, after several minutes of silence, Aiden spoke.

"It's times like this that put things into perspective. I never realized before how much I want to spend the rest of my life with you until now, when I'm in such danger of losing you."

Reid caressed his hand with a thumb, remembering all the things he wanted to ask Aiden. In all the commotion over his health, he'd completely forgotten about them; it made him wonder how much they mattered anyway.

"When you get better, I hope you'll give some thought to moving up north with me. I understand it's a big undertaking, but I think we could be happy. If you want, you can move in with me down here until you decide if you want to."

"Coming up at ten, a house in Inglewood was the target of a drive-by shooting last night that left two men dead. More on that when we return..."

_ _

_ _ Tired eyes wrought with concern focused in on the TV screen hanging from the ceiling, where the news displayed footage of Larry's house, surrounded in yellow tape, numbered placards of the same hue dotting the ground where spent brass lay. Aiden noticed this, and turned to look at the TV.

"That's Larry's house..." Reid whispered with eyes still glued to the TV, which was now showing an advertisement for contact lenses. "You were there, weren't you?"

"Reid, I can explain." Aiden started defensively.

"Explain what, Aiden? Jesus, first you beat somebody to within an inch of their life over a poker game, and now this?"

"I wasn't the one shooting!"

"You said you were working late."

Aiden couldn't bring himself to look at him.

"What_were_ you doing?"

The lab breathed a sigh and pressed his hands into his face. If he didn't tell Reid the truth, Paul would, so he figured it was better he hear it from him.

"I was racing. Street racing."

"What..."

"Reid, I made six thousand dollars on a race with the car you built. I knew that I could win, and I did. I wouldn't have wagered otherwise. I thought maybe we could use that money to start planning a future together!"

"The victims have been identified as forty-three year old Larry Thompson of Inglewood, and thirty year old José Flores of East Los Angeles."

"I was asleep when it started; I thought someone might have been lighting fireworks in the street." Someone's pudgy torso was speaking on TV - understandably, they didn't want to show their face given the grisly nature of the crime and that of the criminals responsible. That or they were just sensitive about their weight. "My kids go to school just down the street from where this happened; I don't want to believe things like this are happening in our neighborhood."

_ _

_ _ The LA County Sheriff's Department was on next.

"We believe this was an isolated incident, likely related to gang activity in the area. We're currently looking into the matter and we are increasing police presence in the area to prevent any further incidents of this kind."

_ _

_ _ Reid began to feel another wave of nausea creeping up on him, this one lasting considerably longer.

"Witnesses say the vehicle is a black or dark colored Chevrolet Tahoe SUV. Anyone with any information that may lead to the capture of the suspects is encouraged to call LA Crime Stoppers at 1-800-222-TIPS."

_ _

_ _ "I had the opportunity to take home almost triple what I made at the race!"

"Aiden, I don't care about money! I make enough to live comfortably, and you make more than I do. I just care about being with you. It seems like the feeling isn't mutual."

"Reid, sweetheart, you know better than that..."

"So what are the cops after you now?"

"No. Bobby's a cop and he was there. We shot at the car as it was driving away. I didn't harm anyone innocent, I swear. I don't even know if I actually hit anyone in that car, they were pretty far away."

"Who were they after?"

Aiden's mouth was dry. His hands shook.

"Me."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe it had something to do with the race; I don't know who the other drivers were. Reid, some weird stuff has been going on lately, I didn't want to tell you about it because I know you're under a lot of stress right now, with quitting drinking, and now the liver." His jaw worked wordlessly for a few seconds afterward. Reid drew in a breath and let it out with a drawn-out sigh.

"It's no wonder you want to move."

"I wanted to get out of here before all this started happening, Reid. LA just wasn't all it was cracked up to be for me. I never meant for any of this to happen, it's just a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"It's a matter of you not being able to give up illegitimate racing. Someone waves money in your face and you forget about what's really important."

The lab kept his peace. He couldn't argue with that.

"I understand what racing is for you. And just so it's out there, I never judged you for it, just like you never judged me for being an alcoholic. But look where it got me. Look where street racing's gotten you. Look where it's gotten your friends."

Aiden's confident and calm demeanor was gone. He sat hunched over, elbows on his knees, a hand shielding his eyes from his boyfriend's accusatory glare. From under the cover of his hand, a single tear rolled down his muzzle and dripped off the end of his damp, black nose. He sat up and took a deep breath, casting his reddened eyes to the ceiling.

"I love you, Aiden. But I'm not willing to uproot my life and my career to move somewhere else with you. I won't allow your decisions to affect me for the worse, and I know you wouldn't want them to. The way it's looking now, it may not even matter."

He nodded.

"So if you need to leave town, then leave. Do what you have to do to survive, but whatever you do, wherever you go...don't forget me. Take something from this. Don't let it all be for nothing. Promise me it won't all be for nothing..."

Aiden's face crumpled with the onset of heartbreak, and he wept at Reid's bedside for several minutes before he managed to collect himself enough to speak.

"I promise." He choked out, and took Reid's hand in his own, bringing it up to his muzzle and kissing it. "And I love you too."

Aiden stood up and smoothed his shirt out, still wrinkled slightly from where Paul had grabbed him. Leaning down, he placed his hands on the bed on either side of the cattle dog and bent down to kiss him on the lips for what he knew would be the last time. Reid kissed him back with all the love and compassion he'd put into every previous one, but kept his composure. He'd done his share of crying, and now, there was nothing left to cry about.

The lab straightened, smiled gently at his love, turned, and walked out of the room wiping an errant tear from his eye.

Reid was hurting, and not just from an inflamed liver. In spite of that, he knew he had done the right thing. It had taken a lot of thought in a short period of time to come to his decision, and it had left him feeling even more drained than before. This worried him, but at the present time, he was far too tired to contemplate why. Instead, he relaxed into the bed and allowed himself to slip away into the land of dreams.

He was finally at peace.