A/N: Danny is in the hospital, Richie at his side. He's a little feverish, kind of incoherent. I kept seeing this scene in my head, and I really had no choice but to write it. I don't see there being any additional chapters, but who knows. Tell what you think, I'd love to hear from you. I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT TUESDAY!

Richie Castellano stood in the doorway to the hospital room, his throat uncharacteristically tight as he looked at his older brother, prostrate in the hospital bed across the room. Early morning light filtered through the few errant slits in the blinds, scattering across the cover. He'd never seen Danny like this, so helpless. His skin an ashy pallor, dark circles under his eyes.

Unbidden, a memory flashed before his eyes. Danny sneaking him sweets when he'd had the flu. He'd tucked them under his pillow when their mother wasn't looking, sitting at his bedside reading him the Sunday comics, pointing out the little jokes hidden within the colorful illustrations.

He felt a hand on his back, and quickly turned. A nurse, chart in hand, glanced up at him sympathetically. He cleared his throat, blinking away the tell tale moisture in his eyes. He moved aside, granting her easier access to the room.

Watching her silently, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his chinos, waiting for her to finish whatever she'd come in to do. Her movements were rote, those of a consummate professional, completing tasks she'd done a thousand times. She rested two fingers against Danny's wrist, glancing down at her watch. Satisfied, she picked the chart back up, making a few notations.

She exited the room, nodding in his direction, giving him a shy smile. He followed her out into the hallway, tentatively resting a hand on her forearm, whispering. "How is he?"

She turned, abruptly, surprised by Richie's softly spoken question. Her small smile widened a little. "A bit feverish, and still pretty weak, but I would say much better." She patted his hand still resting on her arm reassuringly. She glanced down at the chart, checking it briefly before looking back up at him. "We just gave him a fever reducer and something to help him sleep. They should kick into effect pretty soon. Why don't you go sit with him for a bit?"

Richie nodded, his hand falling away from her as she turned and continued down the hall.

When his mother had called him, frantic with worry, he'd only been able to discern a few facts from the jumble of incoherent words she'd poured out. Danny was sick, in the hospital even, and they didn't know why, or if it was serious or not. Her panic had been contagious, and he'd dropped everything to come to the hospital.

By some strange coincidence he'd been in New York already, literally walking out of JFK as he'd gotten the call. He'd reassured his mother that he'd be at Danny's side as soon as possible, then called Danny's childhood friend Stevie, asking him to accompany his mother into the city.

The urgency of the situation horrified Richie. His brother had collapsed in the super market, shopping after work last night. Some kind lady had called an ambulance, ignoring Danny's protests that he was fine, just feeling a little under the weather.

When they'd finally gotten him to the hospital, his fever had spiked, and he hadn't been able to communicate anything to the doctors attending to him. Richie had arrived shortly after his admittance, and had been greeted by the terrifying image of Danny lying prostrate on the bed, white as a sheet, a damp sheen of sweat clinging to his clammy skin.

Richie shook his head at the memory, sliding into the chair beside Danny's bed. The situation had definitely seemed direr than it actually was. Eventually a doctor had come around, explaining everything to Richie. A weight lifted off his shoulders when she'd told him Danny would probably be fine. He hadn't been exaggerating when he'd told his brother how much he'd meant to him growing up. He really had been a surrogate parent, and the very idea of losing him had the power turn his world upside down.

He reached forward, taking Danny's hand, relieved to feel the pleasantly dry skin once again, rather than the cold clammy mess he'd touched last night. Danny stirred at his touch, his eyes fluttering open. "Rich?"

"Yeah, right here, man." He leaned forward, to better hear Danny's sleep thickened voice.

"Awe, Rich, ma's gonna be so mad." Danny swallowed, still sporting a thousand yard stare.

Richie frowned, in confusion. "Nah, she'll be fine. She's on her way."

Danny shook his head. "You can't tell her I snuck out, ok? I promised I wouldn't go to Peter Sandoval's party, let alone stay out past midnight, on a school night." Danny groaned, putting a hand up to his head. "Awe man, she's gonna know I'm hung over, too."

Danny was still clearly delirious, his medication not having kicked in just yet. Richie smiled at him. "You're secret's safe with me."

The words appeared to reassure Danny, his eyes fluttered shut once again, slipping back into a shallow sleep, his eyes darting back and forth beneath their lids.

Richie leaned back, relaxing a bit in the uncomfortable chair, his own eyes drifting shut. He was exhausted. He hadn't slept in two days, and worry had worn him down. Just as he felt himself begin to drift, he heard Danny's voice, once again. This time it was clearer, a statement cutting through Richie's exhaustion.

"It's too soon."

The declaration sounded utterly defeated, and had Richie sitting up once again, gazing at his brother in inquiry. "What?"

"I can't tell her."

Richie frowned. Danny must have been reliving some past experience again, probably in the time he'd been with Christina. Danny's expression was different from before, his eyes not so heavily lidded, a wistful look settling across his features. "I think I love her already."

Richie smiled. Sure, this had to be about Christina. "Oh, go ahead and tell her, what's the worst that could happen?"

Danny didn't turn to him, still staring off at something in the distance. "No. I can't. It's too soon. She doesn't feel the same. She'll leave." Danny sighed deeply. "It's never been like this before. It's too important."

Frowning, Richie leaned forward in his chair. This was fascinating to him. He'd never heard Danny talk about Christina like this. To be honest, he'd always wondered what Danny'd had with her. He'd never seen any spark of real passion between them. "I bet Christina loves you Danny." He wanted to be reassuring, but as the words left his mouth, Danny's brows knitted, his upper lips curled in distaste.

"Why are you talking about Christina?"

"Aren't you talking about her?"

"No."

Richie stared, squinting in his confusion. "Wait.. what? Who are in love with Danny?" Richie was beyond fascinated. Danny was not very talkative when it came to his love life, staying pretty close lipped about most things. Although, in the past there hadn't been much to talk about, relationship wise.

"It doesn't matter. We'll mess it up, we're both a disaster when it comes to relationships. We've only been together a couple weeks, and we've already had a big fight." Danny sighed out the last words, the sedative the nurse had administered, finally beginning to take effect. "We haven't talked in two days. I miss her."

His eyes drifted shut as his breathing evened out, real sleep finally overtaking him. Richie felt a smile pulling at his lips. He'd been worried about Danny, long before this terrifying hospital visit. He could see the loneliness in his features when he visited, hear the wistfulness in his voice when he talked about family.

Danny being in love with someone was the most pleasant news Richie had received in a while, he just wished he could figure out who had inspired such feelings. He chuckled to himself, thinking he'd do whatever he could to make sure Danny didn't "mess" it up.

A knocking against the door frame at his back jerked his attention away from his brother. He turned to see his brother's colleague standing in the doorway, the vibrant Indian woman, who always seemed to be around when Richie visited.

Lines of tension pulled at her face, worry clearly wearing on her. "Is he…?" She nodded to Danny, her words coming out in a whisper.

Richie rose from his chair, reaching forward to greet Mindy, grasping her hand in his as he drew her to the bedside, offering her his chair. "He's asleep, the nurse gave him something to help with the fever, and to get him to rest."

Mindy took the seat, leaning forward, forgetting that Richie was standing beside her. She placed one hand against Danny's face, threading the fingers of her other hand through his own. "He's so pale." The words came out strangled. She stopped herself and cleared her throat, looking back at Richie, unable to hide the glistening in her eyes.

Full understanding settled over Richie. It made perfect sense, and in all honestly he was surprised he hadn't guessed for himself. He smiled at her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Looks worse than it is. He's fine, just needs some rest, some time for the medication to work."

She nodded, pursing her lips, not trusting her voice, her lip quivering slightly. "They tried calling me, but my phone was off. I didn't even know until this morning." She sighed. "How could he get so sick without really noticing? I mean, he had to be feeling ill for days. He's a doctor. It's so irresponsible." Her worry, so difficult to process, transformed easily into irritation, a feeling she was more familiar with.

Suddenly she was very weary, the fight going out of her. Richie, sympathetic to her plight, lifted his watch, checking the time. "It's really early yet. I think I'll make a coffee run. Want anything?"

She smiled at him. "A cappuccino would be great… and maybe a bearclaw or something?" She looked at him hopefully, biting her bottom lip, holding back a smile before she turned to Danny. "I haven't had breakfast."

"Me neither. I'll be back soon." Richie strode out of the room, tucking his hands back into his pockets, smiling as he hurried down the hall, and broad smile spreading across his face. Danny was so wrong. It wasn't too soon at all.