Disclaimer: I do not own the Numb3rs characters.

Chapter 23

When they got back to the apartment, the first thing Dr. Dad did was have Don sit in the most comfortable chair in the living room with a few pillows under his arm. He was reclined back.

He had Charlie sitting on the couch and came back in with two pillows. He fluffed the pillows and propped them on the arm of the couch. Alan opened the bag that they had just gotten from the pharmacy. Don and Charlie looked at each other. Dad was in his glory caring for both of his sons at once. Alan went into the kitchen and returned with two bottles of water. There were two bottles of medication for Don and three new medications and the muscle relaxer for Charlie. He opened and distributed the medication to each son.

"Charlie, I thought you said that you already had straws here. I didn't see any."

"They're in that drawer over there." Charlie was pointing toward the small table near the front door.

Alan opened the drawer. He rummaged through a few odds and ends. There was a spare car key, a box of chalk, lots of paper, packages of batteries, two CDs, nail clippers, a map and finally in the back, Alan located two fast food wrapped straws; one was bent at a angle. He was holding the two straws in his hand when he turned around and Don laughed. Charlie had insisted that Alan did not need to make an extra stop for straws since he already had some at home.

Alan rolled his eyes and unwrapped the good straw. He handed it to Charlie and told him to take the medicine. When Charlie was done, Alan took the water bottle, set it on the coffee table and asked Charlie to lie down. After turning the TV on and handing the remote to Don, Alan headed for the kitchen again. He had all six bottles of medication in his hands.

He wasn't gone thirty seconds and came back into the room to see if Charlie wanted tomato or chicken noodle soup for lunch. All he saw was the back of one of Charlie's crutches disappearing around the doorway. "What's he doing?" he asked Don.

"I don't know but he said he had to hurry before you came back."

Alan went to the doorway. Maybe Charlie had decided he would be more comfortable in bed. He did not see Charlie. Alan went back out and searched the bathroom. Where did go? Alan went back into the bedroom and this time although he did not see Charlie, he could hear him. Alan walked to the far side of the bed, following the muttering and Charlie was down flat on the floor and reaching for something under the bed. The crutches were laying beside him.

"Charlie, what are you doing?"

"I'm getting the extension cord for the laptop. Battery's dead."

"Son, you need to lie down. You have a concussion. Come on; let me help you get back to the couch. I'll make you some soup and then you're taking a nap. I don't care if you sleep here or in the living room, but you will sleep."

Charlie came out from under the bed with the needed cord in his hand.

Alan assisted Charlie to his feet and handed him the crutches. He followed Charlie back out to the living room. Don had found a movie to watch. Alan stood over Charlie while he lay back down.

"Now do you want tomato soup or chicken noodle?"

"Either one is fine Dad."

"Don? Soup and sandwich okay with you?"

"Sounds good."

Alan went to the kitchen. After a minute he was back in to ask Don if he preferred turkey or roast beef and stopped mid sentence when he noticed that Charlie was once again missing.

"I told him not to chance it Dad."

Just then Charlie emerged from around the corner with his notes in his hand.

"Charlie, get back on that couch and stay put. Why didn't you ask me for those when we were in there last time?" Alan had taken the notes and set them on the coffee table so that Charlie could reach them.

"Sorry, I didn't think of it then. I have everything I need now."

"I offered to go get them for you." Don added.

"Yeah but by the time I explained what notes I needed, I could have gotten them myself."

After Charlie was again lying down Alan asked if Don wanted turkey or roast beef. Don said he would rather have turkey and Alan returned to the kitchen.

Their dad came back in with two hot bowls of soup. He set one near Don's left hand on the end table and was getting ready to set one on the other end table near Charlie when he noticed that Charlie had moved. He was now leaning against the other arm of the couch.

"There was a glare over there."

Alan set the soup on the end table and went to where Charlie was now positioned. He pulled the coffee table over near Charlie and returned to set the soup on the table. "Charlie, you need to eat this soup now. That medication might upset your stomach if it's empty."

Charlie set his notes and laptop aside. It was an awkward angle but he was able to get the soup from the bowl to his mouth without spilling it. He had to take small sips from the front of his spoon. It was an annoying slurp but his dad knew Charlie's jaw had to hurt. Alan returned with Don's sandwich only to find that Don had already fallen asleep. His left hand awkwardly holding a spoon that did not look like it had even made it to the soup bowl. He probably should have skipped the soup for Don and just brought the sandwich. Alan gently pried the spoon from Don's hand. He turned off the TV and returned the food to the kitchen.

He wrapped Don's lunch up for later. The pain medication should make Charlie tired soon. The new pain medication was still a narcotic, but was stronger than the one for his leg had been. Charlie might be fighting it now, but Alan knew he would be asleep soon. He planned to run out for straws, pudding and more soup for Charlie as soon as both sons were asleep. After eating a sandwich and straightening up the kitchen, Alan returned to the living room.

Charlie was sleeping. His notes had fallen to the floor and his laptop was leaning that way as well. Alan set the laptop and notes on the coffee table and moved the coffee table back. He put his hand to Charlie's forehead and it was warm. The doctor had said to expect fever. He got a blanket and covered Charlie. Alan checked Don's forehead and his felt normal. He repositioned his arm better on the pillows, took Charlie's half empty bowl back to the kitchen, got the keys and quietly left the apartment.

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Don and Charlie were sitting in the bleachers. The sound of the bat meeting the ball sent his whole body into a shock. He looked over and knew that the ball was heading for Charlie. Charlie was drinking a bottle of water. Don was screaming at him. He couldn't move his arms. Someone was holding his arms. Why couldn't Charlie hear him screaming? That someone that was holding Don's arms screamed into his left ear. "What's the big deal Eppes? "He's just a consultant, nothing more." Don turned his head and was looking into the eyes of James Andrews, the LA child killer. "NO!" Don struggled and the ball was moving toward his brother but so slowly. Just when Don had managed to free his right hand, the ball slammed into Charlie's throat. Don was standing in horror looking at the blood splashing out of his brother's throat. Charlie opened his eyes and he had tears in them. Don could hear the words so clearly. 'You turned on me Don.'

'NO! Charlie! NO! I'M SORRY! NO!

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"Charlie!"

Charlie awoke to someone screaming his name again and it felt like déjà vu. But this time the scream sounded like it was nothing but agony. Charlie raised his head and looked around. Don was sitting in the chair. He screamed "NO". Charlie got up and went to his brother. Don was obviously having a bad dream. The chair was reclined back so Charlie shook Don by his left arm. He reacted violently to the touch on his arm. "LET ME GO!"

"CHARLIE, I'M SORRY!"

"Don, Don, wake up. It's just a dream. Wake up."

His breathing was fast and labored. Charlie shook him by his leg this time and Don's eyes opened. "Charlie" His voice cracked. Realization came over him then. Don set the chair down. "Oh My G-- Charlie." Charlie squatted down so he was in front of his brother.

"It was just a dream." Charlie was startled when Don grabbed him around the shoulders and neck. This put any hug Charlie had ever had to shame. He was holding him tightly and kept saying he was so sorry. Charlie could feel his brother's heart pounding.

"It's okay Don. Everything's okay now. It was just a bad dream."

Don would not let him go. Charlie's calf was hurting now as well as his jaw where it was being squeezed up against his brother's shoulder.

"Let's move to the couch and you can tell me about it." Don just kept saying he was sorry. "Please Don." Charlie felt like his jaw would shatter. He tried to pull gently away. Don was not turning him loose and Charlie knew he had to tell his brother or risk a broken jaw and picturing those wires they would have to put in pushed him forward. "Don you're hurting me."

The words shocked Don into motion. He immediately pulled his arms from Charlie and Charlie fell to the floor. He jaw was throbbing, his leg was hurting and Charlie's stomach lurched. He tried to get up. "Help me to the bathroom. I'm gonna be sick."

Don had recovered and quickly helped Charlie to his feet. Don put his left arm around Charlie and led him to the bathroom, where Charlie bolted to the toilet and threw up. Charlie's jaw was screaming in agony and he put his hand to his jaw to have some support. He tried to hold the jaw so it wouldn't open so much. A few times just when he thought his stomach must be empty by now, it would lurch again. At first Don had just stayed back away from Charlie, but it was painful to hear Charlie so miserable and he moved closer and kneeled behind his brother and put his hand on Charlie's back. He rubbed with slow soothing motions like he had remembered his mother doing when he was a child.

By the time Charlie had stopped throwing up, he was crying from the pain in his jaw and shaking from his stomach's violent reaction. Don helped Charlie sit down on the bathroom floor. He flushed the toilet and got a wet washcloth for Charlie. Charlie had moved so that he could lean against the tub. He took the washcloth. The only cups in the bathroom were tiny paper cups but he gave his brother one of those with water. He told Charlie to rinse and spit.

Charlie's mouth was tight, the words unclear but Don made out enough to know that Charlie was not opening his mouth. Don told him he would be right back. He hurried to the living room for the bottle of water with the straw his brother had been using earlier. When he came back into the bathroom Charlie wasn't crying anymore but his eyes were watered. He looked like he was trying to hold his very jaw together. Don sat on the floor in front of Charlie and held out the bottle. Charlie shook his head and leaned his forehead down on his left upraised knee. This hurt his head more, but it relieved some of the pressure in his jaw. He could tell that his nose had swollen more and he had to open his mouth just the tiniest bit to breathe.

"You need to get off this floor and go back and lay down. Let me help you up Buddy."

His brother shook his head. Charlie felt like he hurt everywhere but the pain in his jaw was relentless.

After another few minutes Don said, "Charlie, look at me."

Charlie raised pain filled watered eyes. He still had his hand holding the bottom of his jaw. Don noticed that Charlie was really flushed. He leaned forward and felt Charlie's forehead. He was really warm.

"Come on Buddy; let me help you back to the couch."

Again Charlie shook his head and settled his forehead back on his knee. His head started spinning and his stomach lurched again. He knew there was nothing left in his stomach and hoped it would settle. He straightened up his head and back and took as deep of breathes as he could with just barely opening his mouth. Charlie's eyes were closed and he was trying to control his nausea.

A few minutes later his stomach had settled and he opened his eyes. Don was still seated in front of him and looked very concerned. "Ready for that trip back to the living room?"

Charlie nodded and using his left leg and the tub to hold onto, raised himself to a standing position. He wanted to ask for his crutches but he did not intend to open his mouth. Don assisted Charlie out of the bathroom and back to the couch. Charlie sat down and leaned his head back. His eyes were closed.

"Here, take a drink of water, your throat's got to be burning."

Charlie took the bottle from Don and took a small sip from the straw. He did not want to open his mouth and right now, he did not want anything in his stomach either. Charlie had sat with his body straight and rigid. He head was leaned back and tipped onto the back of the couch. His eyes were staring at the ceiling. Now that he could see his brother's jaw better the bruising had darkened and was from just under his lower left lip and extended about two thirds of the way along his jaw line toward his ear.

Don set the water bottle back down on the table and sat on the couch beside Charlie. Charlie was having problems breathing in that awkward position.

"Come on Charlie, lay down. It'll be easier to breathe that way. Don grabbed a pillow and propped it on his own thigh, "here turn around and just lay your head down". He really did not want to lie down but this position was not helping him either. He lay down and had his right leg propped on the arm of the couch and his head on the pillow that Don had put there for him. Lying like this was better but it did not relieve the pressure of his jaw. Charlie turned on his right side and returned his head to the pillow. He was lying on his bruised forehead he knew but his jaw felt a lot better. This seemed to be the most painless position and he was asleep in just a few minutes.

Don brushed the damp curls off Charlie's forehead and felt for fever. It didn't seem any worse than it had been earlier but still too warm. He could not reach a blanket to cover Charlie with. It was bunched under Charlie's feet. Don leaned his head back on the couch. He brushed the curls from the rest of Charlie's face and he said a little prayer of thanks that his brother was still here. He lightly traced the bruise on his jaw and than Don closed his eyes.

When Alan came back he found that both sons had moved this time, but they were asleep. Don had his good hand protectively on his brother's jaw. Charlie was curled up on his right side, his head on a pillow that was leaning on Don's leg. He had to admit they did look comfortable. He got the pillows from the chair and carefully propped Don's right hand and then got two blankets, covered them and went into the kitchen to put away the groceries.