After calling his father, Charlie quietly slipped into the exam room, not wanting to wake Don if he had fallen asleep. He perched on the doctor's stool and studied his big brother. The oxygen mask had been replaced by a nasal cannula, allowing Charlie a better view of his brother's face. The dark smears of soot around Don's nose and mouth had been washed away. The gauze pads over his brother's eyes had been removed, and his eyes had been left uncovered. Charlie was anxious for the doctor to return with a diagnosis, and, out of nervous habit, began biting at a hangnail.

"Talk to me, Charlie." Don's voice broke the silence, startling Charlie in the process.

Charlie hesitated a moment before answering. "About what?"

"Anything." After another awkward pause, Don spoke again. "What happened after I blacked out?'

As much as Charlie didn't want to relive the earlier events, there was a sense of urgency in Don's voice that Charlie couldn't ignore. His big brother needed to hear him speaking, to keep reminding himself that Charlie was okay.

"After you passed out, I manged to maneuver us to the loading dock in the back of the warehouse. There was a cargo bay door that was partially opened. I squeezed through and then managed to slide you underneath it. I dragged you away from the building as far as I could until I was too exhausted to move anymore. I tried to get you to wake up, but you wouldn't." Charlie's voice cracked as he remembered thinking that Don was dead. He swallowed back the nausea that accompanied that thought before continuing. "I didn't have my cell phone with me-" Charlie stopped mid-sentence as Don let out a chuckle. "And you didn't have yours on you either," he accused.

"I had it when I went in looking for you," Don assured him. "I must have lost it inside."

"Uh huh," Charlie replied sarcastically. "Anyway, I told you I was going for help and that I would be back as soon as possible. I ran until I found the nearest pay phone and called 911. By the time I gave the operator the information and ran back, the fire department and paramedics were already there."

"That quick?"

"I asked Detective Stanton about that while you were being loaded on the ambulance. He said that a woman had called 911 and they had responded to her call. I guess she must have called just as I was leaving." Charlie shook his head. "I wish I had known that and I could have stayed with you. When I got back there was this cop working the perimeter of the scene and he wouldn't let me in."

"He was doing his job, Charlie, you know that." Don was always quick to jump to the defense of a fellow law enforcement officer.

"I know he had a job to do, but I kept explaining who I was, and he refused to listen. Then Stanton saw me and made him let me in. By the way, Stanton wanted me to tell you to get well soon."

Don nodded as he took in Charlie's story. "I still can't believe you went to that warehouse alone after I specifically told you not to."

"I needed to get more data to help narrow down the list of targets," Charlie protested. "And according to my calculations, the arsonist wasn't due to strike again this soon."

"But there was a chance, no matter how small, that this warehouse would be his next target and that he could strike sooner than expected. That's why I didn't want you to go." Don hesitated for a moment, forcing himself to calm down before he set off another round of coughing. "I know you think I'm bossing you around sometimes, but you have to believe me when I tell you it's because I'm looking out for you. Okay, Buddy?"

Charlie nodded before remembering that Don couldn't see him. "I know. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. It won't happen again, Don."

Don gave a soft laugh. "Don't kid yourself, Charlie. It's not the first time it's happened, and we both know it won't be the last." When Charlie didn't answer, Don sought to lessen some of the guilt he knew his little brother was feeling. "Thanks, Buddy."

Charlie glanced up in surprise. "For what?"

"For getting me to safety. For getting help." Don fidgeted with the hospital sheet draped across him. "For being with me now."

"Where else would I be?"

Don hesitated before finally giving a shrug.

"In my own little world?" Charlie offered. "In the garage working on P vs. NP? I'm not going to do that again, Don. You and Dad are too important to me."

"Glad to hear it," Don answered as a tiny smile formed on his face.

--

"I'm here to see my son," Alan told the nurse. "His name is Eppes. Agent Don Eppes."

"Yes sir," the nurse replied as she checked her patient list. "He's in room 210. Down this hall, fifth door on the right."

"Thank you," Alan replied as took off down the hall. He kept reminding himself that Charlie had told him that he and Don were okay, but Alan knew how much Don hated hospitals. If he was staying overnight, then something was seriously wrong.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally reached the door to 210. As he placed his hand on the door knob, he took a deep breath and steadied himself before slowly pushing the door open. He noticed that his son had a single occupancy room, complete with his own private bathroom. The door to the bathroom blocked his view of Don, but he could see Charlie, dressed in scrubs and curled up in a recliner, snoring softly. Alan quietly walked farther into the room, pausing to smile at Charlie's sleeping form, before approaching Don's bedside.

He gazed at his oldest son's face, wincing at the bright red skin and the bandages covering his eyes. He noticed Don was getting oxygen through a cannula, and fluids from an IV in his left arm. His gaze shifted to his son's right hand, heavily bandaged and resting on a very soft looking pillow. Alan speculated that there was probably a strong pain medication in the IV as well. He continued to stare for a moment, taking comfort in the simple rise and fall of Don's chest.

He quietly walked around the bed to the recliner. Alan noticed that Charlie's hair was damp, suggesting his youngest son had also been examined and then sent to take a shower. He studied Charlie, looking for any obvious signs of injury, and was relieved to find none. He gently smoothed some of Charlie's damp, unruly curls before lightly squeezing his shoulder. "Charlie," he whispered.

Charlie's eyes sprang open at the sound of his father's voice.

"Dad," he whispered as relief washed over his features. "I'm so glad you're here." He reached up and hugged his father tightly. He felt tears forming in his eyes as Alan returned the embrace.

"Shh, Charlie," Alan soothed, as he realized Charlie was trembling. He gently rubbed his youngest son's back as he continued to hug him. "Calm down. I'm here now."

Alan released his hold on Charlie long enough to pull up a nearby chair. He took a seat and placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "What did the doctor say?"

Charlie took a deep breath, glancing at Don before he answered. "He's got second degree burns on his hand. The doctor said he's in for a long recovery and some physical therapy, but that he will have only minimal scarring and he should regain full function of the hand."

"Good," Alan said as he nodded. "That's good news."

"He has some smoke inhalation, so they're keeping him overnight just to monitor for any complications. They said to expect a lot of coughing, and not to be alarmed if his sputa is black for the next few days. He needs to drink lots of fluids to help clear out his lungs."

"Fluids, okay." Alan sensed Charlie was saving the worst for last. He nodded encouragingly for his son to continue.

"His vision is severely impaired right now. He can only see very vague shadows. The doctor says it's because his eyes were singed by the heat. He said it takes time, but that in ninety percent of these cases, the patient will fully regain his eyesight."

"Ninety percent?" Alan sighed. "Oh boy, I know Don didn't take that well."

Charlie shook his head. "I keep reminding that the odds are on his side, but he's only thinking about the ten percent chance it will be permanent. I don't know what else to do to keep his spirits up."

"We bring him home and give him our love and support. That's what a family does."

"You know he hates to be fussed over."

"He may complain a little," Alan paused at Charlie's expression. "Okay, a lot, but I promise you, deep down, he appreciates everything we do for him."

Charlie nodded and gave his father a weak smile.

"I'm going to run by the store and stock up on fluids for Don. I'll go ahead and make sure his room is ready for him." Alan studied Charlie for a moment, noticing the exhaustion written across his features. "Will you be alright staying here tonight by yourself?"

Charlie smiled at the warmth and concern in his father's voice. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Good." Alan clapped Charlie on the shoulder as he stood up to leave. He paused by Don's bed and gazed at his oldest son for a moment. He wanted so badly to reach out and smooth Don's hair, to comfort his son as he had when Don was a child. He resisted the urge, afraid his touch might aggravate the burns on Don's face. He settled for giving Don's uninjured hand a gentle squeeze. When his son didn't respond, Alan decided it was best to let him continue to sleep.

Alan glanced back at Charlie and gave a quick wave as he left the room. He closed the door behind him and wearily leaned against the wall. He knew Don was in for a long recovery, and that he and Charlie would be there to give him all of the support that he needed . Alan also knew that, due to Don's independent nature, he and Charlie would probably be met with resistance every step of the way.

--

"Charlie!"

Charlie bolted awake at the sound of his brother's voice. He saw Don sitting up in the hospital bed, his gown covered in sweat and clinging to his body. He waved his uninjured hand in the air, desperately searching for his little brother.

"Charlie!" Don called again, the anguish in his voice increasing.

"I'm here, Don!" Charlie called back as he raced to Don's bed. He quickly sat on the bed, his hip against his brother's, and grabbed Don's hand. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here."

Don crushed Charlie against him in a fierce embrace. He buried his face in the crook of his little brother's neck, moving his uninjured hand to Charlie's hair, and tangling his fingers in the unruly curls.

"Charlie," Don whispered shakily as he continued to hug his brother.

"Yeah, Don," Charlie whispered soothingly as he gently rubbed his big brother's back. "I'm okay. It was just a dream."

"I thought I'd lost you," Don's voice broke as he tightened his hold on Charlie.

Charlie didn't know if his brother was referring to his dream or real life, and at the moment he didn't care. He just wanted to reassure his big brother. "I know. But you didn't. I'm here."

Charlie continued holding his brother until he felt Don relaxing his grip. He gently guided him to lie back on the bed, pulling the sheet up as he did.

"Sorry," Don mumbled through a yawn.

"Want to talk about it?" Charlie gently prodded, already knowing the answer.

Don shook his head. "I just hate hospitals."

"Yeah," Charlie whispered, thinking back to all the time Don had spent in the hospital with their mother when she was sick. That had been a very difficult time for Charlie, and, not knowing how to cope with her illness, he had retreated to the garage and taken comfort in his numbers. His dad had been confused, even a little hurt, by Charlie's actions, but Don had been furious with him. Even now, as the two brothers were becoming closer, Charlie knew Don would always, on some level, hold that against him.

"What time is dad coming to pick us up tomorrow?" Don's question broke through Charlie's thoughts.

"Around noon," he answered. Charlie's face lit up with a smile. "And he's letting me drive."

"What?" Don exclaimed, suppressing a cough. Upon hearing his little brother laugh, he added, "At least we'll be near a hospital."

"Hey!" Charlie cried indignantly. "Dad's been working with me. He says I'm getting to be a very good driver."

"No offense, Charlie, but I'd be more comfortable if I could see what we were about to hit." What had started off as a playful tone in Don's voice quickly trailed off into one of defeat, as he was reminded of his situation.

"Temporary," Charlie stated firmly. "You have to think that."

Don forced a smile onto his face. "Right," he replied in what he hoped sounded like a confident voice.

Charlie winced at the doubt in his big brother's voice. He softly patted Don's shoulder. "Try to get some rest, okay? Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

TBC