Disclaimer: I don't own the Numb3rs characters

A/N - A big thank you to Jo, my favorite Aunt for some assistance on the dynamics of injury probability in this chapter

Just then came the loud crash of bat meeting ball and to Don's horror, it was a foul and fast ball and the ball was directed right at Charlie's unprotected throat. It was slow motion and Don was frozen in place.

'Move' his brain was screaming at him 'Dammit Move!' Don's body could not respond to his mind's orders. Just fractions of a second before the point of impact Don threw his right hand up to try to stop the ball. He was amazed that the entire scene stayed in slow motion. Charlie's head was on its way back down. The ball slammed into his hand and bounced off. Don felt a sharp pain in his forefinger and all the way to his elbow. The force caused the back of Don's hand to slam into Charlie's face with the same speed. There was another sharp pain in his hand upon impact. Don could tell that Charlie was already unconscious before his limp body fell from the bleacher to the ground below. He knew he would see this day in his nightmares, the details were so clear.

Don felt like his entire right hand was on fire. He hopped down to check on his brother. Charlie was laying on his right side. Don gently turned him onto his back. His nose and lower lip were bleeding and there was a rapidly forming bruise along his left jaw and another on his right forehead and not too far away from that were the stitches that were now torn and the torn pieces mixed with dirt and slowly seeping blood. Several people had gathered around as Don was checking Charlie's injuries. Someone gave him a bandana to use on Charlie's bleeding nose.

Agent Belmont had seen the destruction of the foul ball and ran to assist. "Is Dr. Eppes okay?"

Don looked up at the man who had kneeled down along this brother's other side. "We have paramedics already on the scene. We've needed them several times this season," he told Don.

The paramedics were hurrying to the unconscious form lying near the bleachers in the dirt. Agent Belmont and Don backed away. "I assume you already know Charlie, I'm his brother Don Eppes."

"Agent Troy Belmont, instructor at NSA."

Agent Belmont looked at Don's hand. "Are you okay? I saw what happened and I'm sure you hand needs to be checked out."

"Yeah, I'll have it checked when the paramedics let me know how Charlie is."

Agent Belmont said he would be right back. He ran near the umpire and spoke to him and a few members of his team and then returned to Don.

"I have a stand in for me so that I can go along with you."

At Don's questioning glance, Agent Belmont told him "Director Thompkins values Dr. Eppes very much. I'm sure he would insist that someone from the NSA accompany him to the hospital and since I value hide, it better be me. I'll get Charlie's crutches and bag and I'll meet you at the emergency room."

Don followed the paramedics who were carrying his brother on a board to the ambulance. Charlie was still unconscious. Once they were in the ambulance, the paramedic took a look at Don's hand. There was at least one and maybe two broken fingers and a lot of bruising.

When the ambulance was moving Charlie showed signs of coming around. He could hear sirens and voices. He opened his eyes and did not recognize the face in front of him.

Charlie's first conscious thought was that Don had hit him. He had been talking to Don and then took a drink of water. That was what had he remembered. He noticed that he had a collar on. He tried to remember what happened. Did they fight again? Did something he said set Don off and Don hit him? That seemed highly unlikely. Don was pretty good about letting you know what he was mad about before he let loose. He wasn't a violent person normally.

Don was relieved that his brother was awake. He could tell that Charlie was confused and had no idea what was going on. He moved so that Charlie could see him. "Hey Buddy."

Charlie was relieved to see his brother. "Don?"

"What is it? Are you in pain?"

"Did we fight again?"

Don had to admit that he could see where Charlie would think that. He never even saw the ball.

"No Charlie, we didn't fight."

Charlie was thankful for that. "Then what happened? The last thing I remember was talking to you and drinking water."

"Foul ball Buddy; we stopped it together."

That would account for the pain in Charlie's face. His head hurt, his jaw throbbed. Was Don hurt too?

"You get hit?" He asked Don.

"Yeah, I hurt my hand."

Charlie remembered that he was drinking the water; Don's sudden movement on his left had startled him. That had caused him to stop drinking and had just been lowering his head back down.

The ambulance had reached the hospital. "Don? If I got hit in the jaw, why do I have this collar on?"

"That's just a precaution Charlie. They always do that."

"For getting faced with a ball?"

"You fell off the bleachers."

"We were only sitting four rows up. How hard could I have landed?"

"You were already unconscious when you fell. Limp bodies receive less damage so hopefully nothing else was hurt. It's only a precaution."

"I have a feeling the rest of the pain I feel in my face had something do with my being unconscious. That was one determined ball huh?"

Don laughed.

As Charlie was wheeled into an exam room, Don followed. The paramedic told the nurse who was with Charlie that this other walking passenger had at least one fractured finger.

Charlie couldn't see Don's hands. "Which hand Don?"

"Right."

Someone was shining light in Charlie's eyes. "I'm really sorry. I know you hate desk duty."

Don had not even thought of that. Once they had finished with Charlie in X-ray, it would be Don's turn. Charlie would also need an MRI. While he was waiting, Don called his father. He only told them there was an incident with a foul ball.

By the time Alan had gotten a cab and got to the hospital the doctor had the results of all the testing.

They were all in the exam room with Charlie. Charlie had a mild concussion, the stitches broke open when he fell on them and had been restitched. His lip would heal on its own; his nose was not broken, but there was broken cartilage and the membranes were swollen. His hairline fractured and very bruised jaw was from Don's wrist. Don's wrist was most defiantly sprained; he had a torn ligament. Don's right forefinger and middle finger were both broken. They would be splinted together. His total recovery time could be up to 8 weeks. The wrist was considered the most likely one to cause problems.

Charlie's aftercare required pain meds, someone to wake him when he slept tonight, soft foods and straws for his jaw and a check with a family physician if the swelling in his nose did not recede within 72 hours. While the membranes were swollen Charlie would have problems both talking and breathing through his nose. He figured he would be sounding like a duck. They were a banged up pair, but Charlie knew that he had been extremely lucky. It was almost a given that Don ahd saved his life.

The doctor spoke to Don about his recovery. Fractured fingers and sprained wrists with closed wounds were routinely splinted. With three joints on one hand Don would be handicapped as far as most normal activities went. The swelling of the joints, especially his wrist did not allow for another option. Due to the location of the finger fractures, the doctor had opted for metal splinting for those. It was more cumbersome but a better chance of protection of both fingers. The splint on his wrist would be a fiberglass base that was equally as cumbersome but more comfortable. The joints would be splinted completely immobile and since Don was right handed he would need to relearn a lot of his normal day to day activities and find short cuts in his life. He would need to keep his wrist elevated and use ice a in the next 48 hours.

The doctor told Don that he could not return to his normal occupation for at least eight weeks and even though Don had been warned and knew it was coming it was a blow that he could not hide from his family. Eight weeks of desk duty. Eight weeks of no driving and most of all eight weeks of being dependant on his father.

As Charlie and Don were both cleared to go, Agent Belmont offered to drive the three of them to the ball field so that they could get Charlie's car. Alan was the only one of them that could drive.

As they exited the hospital, Alan walked ahead with Agent Belmont while Charlie and Don were following further behind. Don looked over at his brother. Charlie was again hobbling on his crutches. He was a little nervous that Don might blame him for this. Don had gotten hurt because Charlie was not paying attention again. Don said "There's humor in this somewhere Buddy, I know there is and I may even see it when I'm like seventy years old."

"I really am sorry Don."

"Nobody's fault Charlie, just a freak accident. You're pretty banged up yourself and it could've worse. It terrifies me to think of how much worse," Don said with a serious look on his face. His expression changed to one of mischief. "I don't want to worry you or anything but I do believe that you're going to have another black eye tomorrow on top of all those other pretty bruises on your face." Don laughed at the startled look on his Charlie's face.

"I'll have to hide out for a week." Charlie looked down at the ground for a few seconds and then looked up into Don's eyes. "Thanks Don; thanks for being there when I needed you." He couldn't help smiling at Don's expression.

Ironic as it seemed it turned out to be a good day after all.

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