[Red flags should be going off for Logan and they are, pretty much. This kid's already thinking five steps ahead for his future here and Logan's almost irked that he's including him in it. Why can't people just let an old man secluded himself away in privacy, until his dying day? Everyone's busting in and expecting shit of him. Laura spoke about the same idea, same concept, that death's not permanent and... maybe this Deerington place'll have something that can help. He obliged her, so - here he is, obliging Stiles.

He looks away, rather than keep eying the cigars he can just about taste.]

I've got an implant in me that can't be removed. It's toxic.

[That's a really vague way of covering it but hey - he's not lying?]

No good solution to be found. Not worth talking about. Now give me a cigar.