A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for taking such a long break but life has been rather busy. I hope you're doing well and staying safe! Here is the next chapter! Thank you for always taking the time to review and read. I appreciate it so much! Enjoy :)

Chapter 13: When The Windows Blur

Hiram ran his hands down his face slowly with an exasperated sigh. He was beyond exhausted and a dull ache nestled right between his eyes. He could feel the soreness making itself known in his wrists. The veins in his hand snaked up in blue and green hues. The hair on his head was poking up in all directions, messy and slovenly. He scratched at his chin absentmindedly, feeling the stubble that seemed to grow overnight. His white shirt hung loosely onto the hem of his pants and his sleeves were shoved all the way past his elbows. The cuffs were torn open to keep his hands and arms free of the cloth. He sighed once again, allowing the long exhale of air to calm his mind.

It was like any other night. Any other day. He had stayed with a patient. Comforted them with soft words. Used the tools necessary and experienced hands to heal and soothe. Tended to them till the sky grew dark. Stayed well into the night to reassure wives, husbands, children, that everything would be alright. But this was not like any other day. This was not like any other night. And everything would not be alright. Because this hadn't just been another patient. This was a man who's very first interaction with him had been an act of kindness.

He felt his lip tug into a smile at the memory. He had known better than to try to drive on old, worn out spokes, but he did it anyway. Being up all night with a new mother had left him exhausted and his mind was a muddled mess. He remembered standing on that dusty road looking down at the wheel that had broken off from the rim. Getting ready to accept defeat and start walking until he heard his voice.

And that was the start of a close friendship for years to come.

Hiram always wondered why he had helped him. He didn't even have a job yet, no money, and yet he was willing to help when he could have charged him a dollar. A wheelwright would have easily charged a dollar, maybe even more for such a simple task, but Charles hadn't asked for anything except a ride into town. Hiram felt a sense of warmth from the man and he knew right then and there that he was a good man.

A harsh painful cough erupted from the bedroom causing Hiram's smile to fade, the memory disappearing and reality to come crashing back in.

Because this wasn't just any other patient. This was Charles Ingalls.

He had been up all night washing and cooling Charle's fevered flesh. It had been a very quiet time. Almost disturbing by how silent it was. Hiram couldn't afford to panic and he had told Caroline to remain calm for the girls. The only sounds that could be heard was Charle's ragged panting and ice being poured onto his body.

No one had spoken. Hiram didn't even have to give out orders. Everyone seemed to go into a trance of getting ice from the shed, bringing the buckets in and handing them off like an express train. Tears ran down all their faces including his own when he took a moment to realize that this was actually happening. That this man, this dear close friend was dying right in front of them with each breath he took.

So the night went on and the ice continued to pile up until Charle's body shook so violently that the ice started to crumble onto the floor.

The night seemed to drag on and on with no remorse as the single action took place in a constant repetition. Then a minute, a second. Hiram paused against every impulse that told him to keep going. To keep moving. To save his friend. But the doctor inside him took over when he realized that no sounds were coming from the man laying in the bed.

The harsh ragged panting that had been the only sound to know that Charle's heart was still beating stopped and all that was heard was chattering teeth banging against each other under a mountain of ice.

Caroline dropped the empty bucket she was clutching against her chest when she noticed Hiram had frozen in place.

"M-ma?" Mary's voice shook with fear when she noticed all movement had stopped.

Hiram reached out his palm and gently laid it over Charle's forehead and grazed his fingers down both sides of his face.

"D-Doctor?" Caroline fearfully asked, her eyes wide as tears kept streaming down her face, her lips parted as she waited in agonizing silence.

Hiram turned around and three pairs of terrified eyes were locked onto him.

"The fever has gone down" He said with a tired smile, but the lines around his eyes were creased. The fever had gone down considerably but it wasn't broken yet, but there was no need to worry the girls anymore than they already were.

He felt Caroline's eyes study him intensely and he knew that she knew he was partly telling the truth, but she was stopped from saying so when she felt her girls rush into her arms.

Caroline couldn't help laughing with tears in her eyes as all her emotions rose to the surface and overflowed. The girls sobbed, the fear of their Pa dying rushing back in. Caroline knew it wasn't over but she needed her children to know everything would be alright. Just for this moment she needed to comfort them and let them know that their Pa would be fine.

These emotions had to be held back as they brought the ice in from the shed. They couldn't cry, couldn't scream, couldn't make one sound until they knew their Pa was okay.

But now it was okay for them to cry. To give into the emotions they had to restrain to focus on saving Charles.

Hiram gave them their moment alone as he bent down to continue checking Charle's over, feeling Caroline's eyes on his back as he continued his soft ministrations.

"Caroline, a word?" Hiram asked without looking away from Charles. He stood up and rested a hand on his friend's forehead.

Caroline could sense something in his voice. And she knew he was hiding something from her.

"You girls wait in here while I talk to Doctor Baker, alright?"

Laura sniffled and rubbed her eyes. Mary lifted her head up also sensing something was wrong.

"W-we will Ma." Mary choked out and reached out her hand to grab Laura's.

Caroline walked over to Doctor Baker and stood beside him.

He stayed silent for a while which only increased Caroline's anxiety and fear for her husband.

"W-what is it?" Caroline asked, not trusting her own voice.

"The fever has gone down."

"B-but?"

"It's not broken. Not yet anyway." He whispered softly so the girls wouldn't hear.

Caroline looked down at Charle's and rested her fingers against his cheek. He still felt warm, but at least now she could touch him without her fingers reeling back from the amount of heat radiating off his skin.

"There's nothing more you can do for him Caroline. His body just has to fight now."

Hiram watched as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"H-how long?"

Hiram furrowed his eyebrows, not quite understanding her question, but then it hit him.

"We'll see as the night goes on, but probably well into the next day. There's no need for the girls to stay awake. You've all done everything you can for him. Now we just have to wait."

"I'm not leaving his side." She states in a firm tone, feeling the soft curls flowing through her fingers.

"I never expected you to. But the girls need their rest." Hiram gave her a soft smile knowing the self sacrificing woman very well. He rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Alright." Caroline let her fingers dance against her husband's pale face one more time before leaving the bedroom.

Laura and Mary stared at her wide eyed, tears streaming down their faces. Caroline's heart broke at the sight, but she needed to keep her voice steady and her mind calm. She couldn't allow herself to feel all the worries and anxieties overwhelming her.

"He's fine. He's just fine." She lied and allowed a smile to come onto her face. She had to reassure them. She knew it was wrong to lie, but it was a safe lie. It was a lie to comfort her family, to tell them that everything would be alright.

Laura and Mary rushed over to her and she scooped them both in her arms.

"C-can we see him?" Mary asked, using her sleeve to rub her eye.

Caroline looked at her, unsure of what to say. She wasn't sure she wanted them to see their Pa like this. So weak and so frail, but they also had a right to see. A need, even. She knew they wouldn't be able to rest until they could see and hear that their Pa was alive and well.

"Yes, but just for a moment. He needs his rest and so do you."

Caroline stood up with a groan. She was very tired. Her mind was mentally exhausted, but there was no time for her to rest. No she wouldn't rest. Not until she knew. Not until she could feel that he was getting better.

She walked over into the bedroom and watched as Laura and Mary hesitantly followed, almost as if they were unsure if they even wanted to see their Pa or not.

Finally they made their way around the fireplace and couldn't help as new tears welled up in both their eyes.

Their Pa laid before him. Shivering and yet soaked in sweat. His hair was matted down to his head and his curls stuck to his forehead. His shirt was completely soaked and the ice covered his entire body. They had pressed the ice so it laid underneath his arms, beside his face, his groin, and beside his legs. His skin was an awful greyish white color and he had tears running down his face and water droplets coming from his nose. His breathing was coming out in short spurts of air from the cold overwhelming his senses.

They watched as Hiram wet the rag once again and squeezed out the excess water before placing the rag on Charle's forehead and soaking his face.

"He looks so weak." Laura spoke up, saying exactly what was on everyone's minds.

No one said anything. They let those words hang in the air. Before the girls got to really look at their Pa, Caroline shooed them off to bed. She didn't want them staring too closely.

"Alright girls, you need your rest and so does your Pa."

Mary made no move to leave. Nor did Laura until Caroline grabbed both their hands and took them out of the room.

Hiram continued to wet the rag and reapply it. It was the only thing he could do. For now. Charles had to fight.

"He's going to be fine." Caroline said when she watched their faces cloud.

"Oh M-ma." Mary's voice broke with a sob.

"Shhhhh….it's going to be alright. Your Pa is strong." Caroline whispered against her hair as she held them.

"Now it's time for you both to get some rest." Caroline ordered, holding them both to her as tears came down her face.

"Can't we stay up just a little longer? What if Pa needs something?" Laura asked.

"I'll be with your Pa and so will the doctor. We'll be just fine, but you both need to get some rest."

"Alright Ma, but if something happens..." Mary starts, her voice shaking with each word. Her throat feeling so constricted with each word.

"Nothing will happen." Caroline interrupts, not letting them voice their thoughts.

"B-but if something does happen...you'll wake us?"

"I... will." Caroline hesitantly promises with a tight smile. She knew her girls wouldn't rest until she gave that promise.

"Now off to bed." Caroline hugs them both, not allowing them to worry anymore.

Laura and Mary both look back into the room when they hear harsh coughing. Then they look back at their Ma.

"He'll be fine." She assures them, hearing their words even though neither of them opened their mouths.

She watches as her girls slowly climb up the ladder in their nightgowns.

Once they're out of sight, she allows herself to cry and places a hand over her mouth to quiet her sobs.

"Caroline?"

Hiram's voice brings her back and she stands up.

"You did the right thing."

"I know." Caroline solemnly whispers. She didn't feel like she did the right thing. Lying to your family was never the right thing. But if it spared pain and sadness, didn't it count for something?

She went back over to Hiram and helped him continue to wet the rags. It was all they could do. His fever hadn't broken so all they could do was wait. And pray and continue on with that one simple task until two words are spoken. Two words that could change everything. And two words that could give them hope.

Hiram stood up out of his chair and stretched his arms over his head. He had given Caroline the news that his fever had broken that morning. Those were the two words they were waiting for. The two words that changed everything. The two words that had given her strength.

She had decided to go to Church. To find strength for herself, her family, but most importantly for Charles and to make arrangements to go to Rochester.

He knew that she only left Charles because he had stayed behind to take care of him. He knew that when someone in the family was sick, they found some comfort in going to Church. To find some invisible reassurance that everything would be alright. That god was with them and would save their family members.

Hiram was a god fearing man, but he didn't believe in the notion that God could save the sick. Only medicine and experienced hands could do that, but he never questioned anyone's decision to go to God for help. And he didn't question anyone's prayers for the sick and the dead. He had said many prayers in all his years practicing medicine. Whether they did any good or that invisible force stepped in, he would never know, but saying those whispers quietly while holding a loved one's hand was enough. It was enough to make a person believe that someone beyond the powers on the earth was watching and helping.

But for Hiram, it was just words to say when there was complete silence and all you could hear was someone taking their dying breaths. It wasn't asking for some invisible force to step in. It was a prayer for him. That he could be strong when he had to give the news. That he could somehow fix the broken. But in the end they were just cold whispers against a dark dream that kept repeating itself over and over again.

Hiram braced his hands against the table and felt the cool wooden surface sink into his palms. He was just about to step outside for a moment to get some air. Dealing with the sick had a way of stealing oxygen from your very body.

But a voice stopped him just as he was about to open the door.

"Caroline?"

Hiram turned around, unsure he heard it because it was so quiet and groggily.

"C-Caroline?" The voice called out again.

Hiram made his way back around the fireplace and was met with two wide green eyes and a body starting to lift itself. Most of the ice had been thrown onto the floor from his sudden movements.

"Easy Charles. Easy." Hiram rushed over to the bed and pushed Charles back down gently.

"Caroline…where's Caroline? Where am I?" Charles coughed out and looked around the room frantically still trying to push himself despite Hiram's hands trying to lay him back down.

"Just lay back. She's fine Charles. Everything's alright."

"Laura…M-Mary?" Charles asked, his throat hot and tight.

"Everyone is fine. Caroline took the girls to Church. You've been with fever. We managed to get your temperature down. You've been asleep for two days."

"T-two days?"

"Yes, you're a very sick man. I've sent a telegram to Rochester. Caroline's getting everything arranged."

Charles stays silent. He doesn't know what to say. He felt awful, but he couldn't imagine how worried Caroline and his girls were. How could he have been so selfish?

Hiram starts to bunch up the ice on the floor and place it back onto Charles' body. He watches as Charles eyes glaze over with pure exhaustion.

"I'm sorry Charles."

Charles opens his eyes and looks over at him and groans as Hiram keeps packing the ice back all over him.

"W-what?" He manages to sputter out.

"If I had known how sick you were, it wouldn't have gotten this bad. I should have known. I should have….."

"Hiram…"

Doctor Baker's eyes widen when he hears Charles use his first name. He rarely did that.

"It's not your fault. I was stubborn. Re-fusing…refusing to admit….ahh how sick I was. I d-didn't even wanna admit it to m-myself." Charles stutters out as the shivering takes over.

"But I should have known Charles. I've been a doctor for 30 years. I could have spared you all this pain."

"I didn't want anyone to see me w-weak. I didn't want you to see me this way. I wanted to be strong. For Caroline, for my f-family. I wasn't thinking c-clearly."

"You'll never be seen as weak Charles. Admitting your sick is not weak. Hiding it from the ones you love, your friends….that's what makes you weak. Having loved ones support you. Letting your friends take care of you. That makes you strong." Hiram says, patting in the last pile of ice around his arms.

"I'm sorry." Charles whispers, his green eyes welling up with tears as he looks up at Hiram.

Hiram's throat starts to burn as the emotions overcome him suddenly. Because this wasn't just another patient. This was Charles Ingalls. A good man. A good father. A true friend. To him always.

"Don't be sorry. Be strong. For Caroline, for your girls. For all your friends that love and care for you. Be strong for them Charles." Hiram grabs his hand and holds it.

Charles' eyes begin to close and he dozes off as the pure exhaustion takes over. Hiram pulls his hand away and stands up. He rests a hand on Charles' forehead.

"Be strong." He whispers before leaving the room to allow the man to sleep.

They would leave for Rochester tonight. Charles needed as much strength as possible for the trip.

Hiram goes outside to get some fresh air and wait anxiously for Caroline to come back.

Caroline made sure to thank everyone for their donations with a kind smile. She wanted to get back to Charles right away. Every moment spent apart seemed to alarm her with a sense of dread.

She hurriedly made her way out of the church but was stopped by a familiar voice. A friendly voice. But nonetheless she was stopped from going back to Charles.

"Caroline."

She turned around, wiping her eyes harshly to hide the tears, but it was a futile effort. She knew her little tricks and stiff expressions were crumbling around her.

He walked over to her, his normal beaming smile long gone as he held a solemn look as he walked towards her.

She held each of his girls hands and Carrie played with the edges of her dress unaware of the situation or emotions that was taking over the whole family.

"I just wanted to tell you, you don't got to worry about one thing. I'll take care of these girls like they were my own."

"T-Thankyou Mr. Edwards." Caroline says in a tight voice, not bothering to wipe her tears away anymore.

Isaiah looked down and felt his heart break at the sight of the girls. Mary's head was hung off her neck almost like a thread. and her frame was shrunken in like a lifeless corpse. She kept sniffling softly, keeping her eyes low.

Laura's eyes and nose were red around the edges. Her hair wasn't done in those two neat braids but rather it was a dull, stringy fire. She hadn't even cared enough to make her hair.

Both their palms had red angry marks on them from the constant rub of the bucket's handle against their hands. And their knuckles were scraped and dry.

Caroline looked no better as the bones in her cheeks were sunken in and her hair was falling out of the clips she had used to hold it up. Her eyes were distant and empty. Her body was slouched. Her dress hung to her torso and her lips were bitten and chewed up. She was exhausted. The lines around her eyes and mouth spoke of all her concerns that mere words could never amount to.

Isaiah ran a hand over his bearded face taking them all in. They looked absolutely miserable. He wanted to say something. Comforting words, but he didn't know what to say. He wanted to make a joke, get his little half pint to giggle. But he didn't even know how to begin. So he said the one thing that made sense.

"I'll be by this evening to get the girls."

"Thankyou." Caroline whispered and her eyes conveyed how truly grateful she was to him. That she could rely on him when she couldn't rely on herself.

Isaiah took his leave and watched the three women start to walk aimlessly, an invisible wind battering their bodies around as they made their way back home. Their steps staggering, their feet swaying as they made their way back to Charles.

His friend. Their father. Her husband. He was many things to everyone, but Charles was his one true friend that he could rely on and care about. He was never ashamed to cry. Not for Charles. He taught him to never be ashamed of his emotions. He loved that man. And he cried for him. Not because he wanted to, but because he needed to. Charles wasn't just another man. He was his one friend. The very first person to see him past his unshaven beard, his stained flannel shirt, the alcohol on his breath. He was the first person to see him. To truly see him. And for that he would be eternally grateful to Charles Ingalls and do whatever he could to help.

There were certain things a woman didn't do when they were wearing a dress. You didn't dare get your clothes dirty. The very thought of dust touching the dear cloth was distressing. You didn't tear or rip the clothing by moving in some way you shouldn't. You had to treat the material delicately and treat the dress with dignity in respect by how you moved and walked.

But this woman didn't care if the cloth tore, if dust caked on the material, if the dress didn't get treated with respect because this woman was running.

Running as fast as she could to the man she loved.

Laura and Mary tried to keep up when their mother took off in a burst of energy as they neared the house.

Ma never ran. Unless there was panic. Unless there was fear. And it was that emotion that propelled their bodies forward with such force. So much force that their shoes smashed into their toes as the little house became more clear.

Caroline rushed through the door.

"Doctor?"

Hiram came around hearing the panic and breathlessness in her voice.

"Caroline, what on earth?" He asked and then stopped short when Laura and Mary came running in.

"How is he? Is he alright?" She asked, her breathing coming in short spurts.

He rested a hand on her shoulder and her body froze under his touch.

"He's fine. He's resting."

"Oh thank god." Caroline dropped the basket she was holding and rushed in to see him.

She watched as he slept soundly for once. No tight lines around his face or eyes. He seemed to be in a peaceful slumber for once.

Hiram came around behind her.

"We'll leave for Rochester tonight."

Caroline didn't speak. She just watched him sleep.

Hiram went around to check on the girls while Caroline kneels down beside him and took his hand. She prayed, murmuring the words constantly, tears dropping down her cheeks. She was with him now. She could breathe again.

Isaiah came later that evening to pick up the girls. Charles was too weak to even wake up to reassure his family he would be alright.

"He's strong, Caroline. He'll pull through like he always does." Isaiah said as he walked Caroline back to the house after she said goodbye to the girls and used false hopes and calm words to ease their minds.

"Take care of my babies." Caroline whispers.

Isaiah pulls Caroline into a hug. She tries not to break down in his arms since the girls were waiting in the wagon watching them, but the warmth of his arms and the power of his love for her family was too much.

The sobs overtake her but she stifles them before they take control. Isaiah holds her hand for a moment before pulling away.

Caroline watches as he hops onto the buckboard, glancing back one last time before snapping the reins. Mary and Laura's tear stained face look back at her as they drive away.

The next few hours are spent getting the train tickets and packing for the trip. Caroline doesn't speak, doesn't cry. Just focuses on the task at hand while Hiram continues to watch over Charles.

He informed her that he would be taking the trip with her. He didn't want her to go through this alone and she was grateful to him.

Once everything was packed, Hiram and Caroline lifted Charles out of bed and laid him on the blankets behind the buckboard. Caroline caressed his face as she nudged the blankets closer around his shaking frame.

He doesn't even register her being there as his eyes remain shut. She places a kiss on his forehead and a tear from her eyes lands on his cheek.

Hiram helps Caroline up onto the seat with no expression on his face and snaps the reins as they make their way to the train station. The wait for the train is unbearable as they watch Charles begin to fade.

But soon a whistle is blown as the steam from the train comes whooshing in. They make their way all the way to the back. Charles was too weak to be sitting up so they had to lay him back in one of the freight carts. It would be an uncomfortable journey but they couldn't risk Charles being moved too much.

The train whistled again and Caroline grabbed for her husband's hand as she sat next to him. His eyes were closed as he laid on the bed. Hiram sat behind her so he could keep an eye on Charles.

The steady sound of the engine started alerting everyone that the train had started moving.

Caroline continued to stroke her husband's hand with her thumb and look at his face. She felt her mind drift as the sound of the train's engine put her in a trance.

She gazes out the window and watches as green trees go by and the land stretches further and further until you thought it would never end.

As she keeps watching the scenery changes. The trees dance hazily and the prairie lands jolt up and down. She hears Hiram whispering something and tears go down her face when she realizes he's praying.

The tears keep coming and she looks out the window again. But it's not the same. It's just green and blues and yellows. It's not trees anymore. It's not grass. It's just tears. Water coming to life. Painful thoughts and memories coming to the surface. Overflowing like waves. The glass isn't the same. It's just fading colors. And that's when the windows start to blur.

Well that's Chapter 13! I hope you liked it and the ending was very rushed but I wanted to update as I promised. Please let me know your thoughts and review! Thankyou :)