Don didn't keep as good of an eye on Charlie as he would have liked. Life went on for him, and he returned to work. But each night he made sure he was the one to give Charlie his supper, that seemed to always go uneaten. Don knew enough of his brother to know Charlie was too lost in his own world to join Don's, so Don knew that his brother was going to be okay alone in the garage. But after over a week had passed since their mother's death, Don realized that Charlie hadn't eaten a bite.

More than angry with his brother, Don fixed his brother's plate for supper. He filled it completely, even bothering to put a large roll on the side. He would make his brother eat it if it took all night. He was glad that his father was gone for the night, trying to lessen the pain by spending the night away. Don hoped that would help his father, but he wasn't really sure it would.

Charlie was more than lost in his own protected world. There was an emptiness inside, but he was still able to fill it with math. A nagging feeling inside reminded him that his mother was dead, but in his own world, he was able to ignore it, and think that she was alive. He was so caught up in solving P vs. NP that he didn't realize the outside world was about to come crashing into him... literally.

Don couldn't stand seeing his brother writing on the chalkboard. Anger that he'd been feeling since before their mother's death came rushing back to him. Taking that anger out, he charged his brother and shoved him hard, pushing Charlie painfully into the chalkboard in front of him.

Charlie barely reacted in time to the shove, it having caught him by surprise. He was too late to put his hands in front of him, and the left side of his face smashed into the chalkboard. Realizing he was no longer in his own world, Charlie was surprised to find his brother's angry face as Don charged at him once more.

Don pulled Charlie down on the ground. He pinned his stunned little brother's arms above his head. Charlie squirmed beneath him, but Don didn't loosen his hold. He kept Charlie's hands pinned to the ground and with his free hand, he reached up and grabbed the roll off of Charlie's plate of food. He began to shove it toward Charlie's mouth. When his brother's fear-filled eyes closed tightly, Charlie also shut his mouth.

"EAT IT!" Don screamed, angrier than he had ever sounded before.

Charlie flinched as his eyes opened to look at his brother. He still wouldn't open his mouth, food being the last thing he wanted in the world.

Seeing that his brother was still not going to eat, Don decided to play rough again. He slapped Charlie across the face, and when Charlie went "ow," Don shoved the roll in his brother's mouth.

Charlie's eyes were surprised when the large piece of roll was forced into his mouth. Nearly gagging on the piece of bread, Charlie coughed.

"Don't you dare spit that out," Don warned in a threatening tone. Scared, Charlie obeyed and began to chew, breathing hard through his nose. His cheek ached, having been slapped and shoved into the hard chalkboard. His wrists were burning from the pressure Don put on them, making sure he wouldn't fight.

With his mouth overstuffed, Charlie's cheeks puffed out like those of a chipmunks. It would have been funny, had it been a different time. Right now, though, Charlie and Don stared at each other, and they recognized how angry Don really was.

Swallowing the offending food, Charlie breathed deeply. For a moment, Don and Charlie continued to stare at one another. When Don got off his brother, Charlie sat up, rubbing his sore wrists and the left side of his face.

Don backed away from his brother, afraid he might act out in violence once more. He didn't want to hurt his brother, and he was sorry that he had. His mother had always told him how to handle Charlie, since she knew both her sons so well. That would be something Don missed, as well, and he was afraid Charlie would start missing it, too.

Charlie felt the nausea rising and he gave Don a glare before he got up and ran to the bathroom. He stumbled into the bathroom, dropping down on his knees in front of the toilet to empty his stomach. It seemed he hadn't obeyed Don after all.

Don followed close behind Charlie and waited outside the bathroom. He felt bad for making Charlie sick. He should have known that forced food go down well for someone who hadn't eaten in weeks. He waited for Charlie to leave, ready to apologize.

When Charlie came out of the bathroom, he looked worse than he had when he went in. It was because reality returned to him once more, making him fully aware of his pain and sadness over his mother's death. Knowing his brother was so angry with him did nothing to help with that either.

Don looked sadly at his brother when Charlie stepped out of the bathroom. He could see how his hurting his brother had affected Charlie.

"Buddy, I'm so sorry. I... I didn't mean to hurt you like that."

Charlie nodded. It didn't matter. He deserved to be hurt, didn't he? He didn't deserve to be treated well. Charlie had stayed away from his mother, the only one who ever truly understood him. How could he have done that to her? Couldn't he have fought off his own mind to go to her? But the truth was, he hadn't wanted to fight to get to her. He had wanted to hide. Because watching his mother die would be the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life, and it would have killed him... like it was now.

Charlie started to walk past his older brother, but Don reached out and gripped his arm. Charlie looked up at him, seeing only a hint of the anger he'd seen before.

"You need to eat something."

The thought of food made Charlie's stomach churn. He knew he should be hungry. He hadn't eaten in who knew how long. So Charlie should eat. But he wasn't hungry.

Don took Charlie to the kitchen and pushed him down into a chair.

"Don't move," Don ordered while he went out to the garage to get Charlie's dinner plate. When he returned, Charlie wasn't there, as he had already half expected. He set down the plat on the kitchen table and walked through the living room toward the stairs, wondering where Charlie went. Don searched Charlie's room, his room, and then his parents' room. When he didn't see him in any of the rooms in the house, Don began to worry. He knew his brother couldn't have gotten that far, since he had only been gone for a few minutes. He retraced his search, and if it hadn't been for a quiet sob, Don wasn't sure he would have found Charlie.

Moving to his parents' closet, he found Charlie huddled on the floor, laying against their mother's robe. Don's heart went out toward his brother. He had remembered Charlie doing this before when their mother had been gone for a week to help a sick family member when they were little. Charlie had gone to their parents' closet to breathe in his mother's scent, just to comfort himself. Seeing Charlie do it now nearly broke Don's heart.

"Hey, Buddy," Don said as he sat on the floor outside the closet.

Charlie barely glanced at his brother. He breathed in his mother's robe, absorbing the scent that was unique to her, the smell that meant Mom. It smelled faintly like roses and cinnamon. It was Mom. Charlie feared the day when the scent would fade.

Slowly Charlie crawled out of the closet toward his brother. He stopped at the opening at just stared at Don. Don's eyes softened as he looked at his little brother's tears.

"Come here, little buddy."

Charlie began to cry again as he moved into his brother's open arms. Misery never felt so bad. He wanted his mother, but she would never be there to comfort him again. So instead he found comfort in the arms of his older brother. It wasn't the same, but it was all he had.

Don wished he could get his brother back. Though he had spent so much time away from his brother, he knew Charlie wasn't always this way. Charlie had never been one to lock himself up for so long. And he certainly wasn't the kind to avoid their mom. Something had changed while Don had been away. There was something new to his brother's lifestyle. Charlie wasn't the same. And so what was it that made the difference?

Charlie was sick of playing this game. He was tired of battling his own mind. Lately, Charlie had been purposely losing the game of life. He didn't want to win his fight against his own mind, because if he did, then he'd be back in the real world, the real life. And that was not the life he wanted to join. The make-believe world he created was one that guaranteed no pain. The only thing that he had to sacrifice was the win.

But now he needed that to change. Though the pain would be let in, Charlie knew he had to take that risk. It was time to stop hiding. He couldn't stay away from the real world forever, despite what his mind told him. So now, he was going to fight back. The only problem was, he wasn't sure he was going to win.

Once Charlie's tears had dried, Don led him downstairs into the kitchen. His brother's plate was still sitting on the table, so Don picked it up and put it in the microwave. When he placed the plate in front of Charlie, Don patted his brother on the shoulder.

Charlie's head was hung low as he looked at the unappealing food before him. It was his first step, he supposed. If he could eat his supper, it would be one step closer to success. Tentatively, Charlie picked up his fork. As he brought his first bite to his mouth, Charlie felt his stomach roll... surprisingly, with hunger.

Don sat across from his younger brother and watched Charlie slowly begin to eat his supper. Don was proud of Charlie for being able to eat, even cleaning off the whole plate. It was definite progress.

When Charlie was finished, he looked up at Don, as if to say, "What next?" Don could see the obvious sign of a bruise about to start on Charlie's left cheek. Don once again felt bad for lashing out at his little brother. Reaching out toward his brother, Don was about to touch the lightly colored bruise when Charlie flinched. Frowning, Don put his hand down.

"I'm sorry, Buddy. Really."

Charlie nodded, looking down toward the right. He could feel his brother's eyes on him, so he didn't turn his head. He didn't want to see Don's face. He would lose his nerve if he did.

"You're mad at me."

Don was surprised Charlie even brought it up. He wasn't really sure what to say. But it turned out, he didn't have to.

"You don't have to say it. I already know it's true. And... I don't blame you."

Don studied his brother's downcast face. He wondered what all his brother did already know. It seemed Charlie knew even more than people understood.

"I'll... I'm going to try to be better, Don. I just... it may take me a while, okay?"

Don smiled, though his brother wouldn't look at him. He pushed down the anger, knowing that Charlie was going to at least try harder. It was enough for Don to know that Charlie was back. He was going to fight. Which meant he'd make it.

"I'm, uh, I'm going up to my room. Okay?"

Don nodded toward his brother's question. Without even getting his answer, Charlie stood from the table and left for his room. Don cleaned up Charlie's small amount of dishes and then went to the living room to watch TV. He was surprised when almost an hour later, his father came home.

"Dad! What are you doing back already? Is everything okay?" Don said as he got up from the couch to help his father with his few bags.

"I'm... I'm fine, Donny. I just need to be home. How's Charlie?"

"I'm okay, Dad. How are you?" Charlie said from the top of the stairs, having heard his father's entrance.

"Charlie! You're... you're, uh..."

"Yeah," Charlie simply replied, understanding that his dad didn't know quite how to put it. He was back, at least for now. It just depended on how his fight against himself turned out.

"Did you boys eat already? I can make you something."

"No, Dad. That's okay. We both ate," Don answered, sneaking a glance up the steps at his brother.

"Oh. Well, I'll just go to my room then. Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"Yes, Dad. We're fine."

After hearing his sons say they were fine, Alan felt okay enough to go into his room. He passed Charlie at the top of the steps. He was pleased his son was back in the house.

"You need something, Buddy?" Don asked from the bottom of the steps.

"No." Charlie turned and went back to his room. Soon Don heard the shower running, and knew it was Charlie's. He hoped that soon they'd be getting things back to normal, as normal as they could without their mother.

Don wasn't sure what more he could do at his family's house. Realizing it was time, he decided it was time to go back to his apartment. Though his father was obviously still dealing with his grief, and Charlie was just now coming out of the garage, Don figured that was progress enough. So he went upstairs to pack his bags. It was time to go.

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Charlie was surprised when he kept his supper down. He supposed that the only reason he hadn't kept his roll down was because it was forced into him. In his room, he felt full for the first time in months. Though he painfully felt the absence of his mother, Charlie was back in the real world. But would he be able to stay?

He was about to go to sleep when there was a knock on his door. When no one came in, Charlie got up from bed and opened the door. In the hall, Don stood with a suitcase in his hand.

"What's going on?" Charlie asked, his pulse slowly picking up speed.

"Well, I figure it's time for me to start living at my apartment again. I've been here long enough."

"B-b-but, why? Why now? Why do you have to go right now?"

Sensing his brother's fear, Don stepped forward and placed a hand on his brother's thin shoulder. "It's okay, Buddy. I'll be by all the time. You won't even notice I'm gone."

"But-"

"It's going to be okay, Charlie. I promise. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Don dropped his bag and hugged his brother.

"Nothing's going to change, okay? I just won't be here all day, like before. But if you ever need me, for anything, call me. Okay?"

Charlie nodded, looking away from his brother, hoping to hide his tears.

"You'll be okay."

"I... I'm going to bed now. Okay?" Still not looking at his brother, he turned his back on Don.

"Okay. Good night, Buddy."

Charlie closed the door behind him because the tears were already spilling down his face. Unable to hold it in, a sob escaped his lips. Charlie hadn't expected to have to fight on his own. When he returned to the real world, he knew that Don would be there to fight with him. And that way, he was sure to succeed. But if Don left, he would be truly on his own. How was he supposed to win now?

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Don stared at the closed door in front of him. When he heard his brother sob, he felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. He leaned against the opposite wall facing his brother's room, and stared. What should he do now? It would make sense if he stayed for his brother. But he felt it was time to leave.

"Are you leaving?" Alan asked as he stepped outside of his room. He walked up to his oldest son, watching him with a knowing gaze.

"Yeah. I'm going to head back to my apartment."

Alan nodded. "I understand. Donny, you have been such a help these last few months. I... I can't thank you enough."

"It's okay, Dad. You know I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Alan smiled sadly. "I know."

Pausing, Alan looked at his son, proud of Don's strength.

"Well, I guess you'd better go."

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow, though, okay?"

"Okay."

Alan reached out and hugged his son in a tight embrace. "Be careful."

"I will."

Alan hoped so... because he wasn't sure what he'd do if something else happened to his family.

Sorry for the delay. It's the end of the school week, so I finally got time to wrap this chapter up. Still more to come. I think I'll extend it a little more. Not much, maybe two chapters. But that's still more than I planned. I hope you all are still enjoying. Run out of tissues yet:-D