Kylie was on the phone with Fred's doctor, getting the latest on Fred's condition.

"Will he make it or die in that coma?" Kylie asked.

"We don't know that answer yet, Ms. Jones," Dr. Johansen told her.

"Did he wake up at all last night when the paramedics took him in?" Kylie asked.

"No."

She saw that the clock in the kitchen now read 9:15 a.m.


Meanwhile, back in Washington, Fred waited in the living room for the McCareys to finish breakfast so they could take him to the airport so he could catch a flight to Milwaukee. Tears were still running down his cheeks, but harder than they were earlier when the McCareys were around. Fred almost did not hear the McCareys enter his apartment because he was busy remembering all the times he and Fred had when they were younger. He cried the trip to the airport, thinking that Fred had already died in the coma without his saying good – bye to his brother. His hand with his suitcase in it started shaking as hard as it could that the suitcase fell and landed on the ground.

"Don, carry his suitcase for him," Fred heard Mrs. McCarey say to her husband.

"I was planning to do so, Shirley. What is wrong with him? Try to calm him down before hundreds of people are watching us," Mr. McCarey told his wife.

"I'm trying, but it isn't working," she told him.

Mrs. McCarey opened her purse and handed Fred a tissue. The Kleenex did not work. Hundreds and thousands of people were watching, so Fred had an audience.

"Does he need a therapist?" a mother of five children asked Mrs. McCarey.

"We don't think so, ma'am. I am trying to calm him down, but this time it is not working. My husband and I don't know what he's thinking," Mrs. McCarey said to the woman.

Fred was crying even harder than before that he could not even speak, still thinking that his brother had died.

"What flight is he on?" the husband of the woman who asked about the therapist.

Mrs. McCarey gave out the flight number to him.

"That flight already left, ma'am," the man told her.

"We just arrived, but we thought we were on time, sir," Mrs. McCarey said.

"We're thinking it was because of this scene he's having," the husband told the McCareys.

There was a doctor around the airport, so he told the McCareys were with Fred, so he decided to look and find out what was going on. The audience of the airport had left when the doctor showed up to look at the McCareys and Fred. He introduced himself to the McCareys. Mrs. McCarey told the doctor about Fred's identical twin brother, Fred's being in a coma and how Fred reacted to the news.

The doctor did his best to give Fred a shot to stop crying so he could hear his side of the story. Fred used a clean Kleenex and tried to talk, but found it hard, so he hiccupped while talking.

"I'm thinking my brother might be dead!" Fred screamed at the top of his lungs.

He said loud enough for the whole airport to hear.

"We do not know that for sure, Fred, sweetheart," he heard Mrs. McCarey tell him.

"First my mother dies in a nursing home, and now my brother ends up in a coma. How would you feel if this happens to you?" Fred screamed.

The doctor told the McCareys that Fred needed to see a therapist. He gave a therapist's name to the McCareys. They promised they would give that therapist a call.

"You can start seeing a therapist next year, Fred. For now, you can be with your family," Mrs. McCarey told him.

They put his baggage with the rest of it in the luggage claim and they watched him take off in the airplane.