Series: Numb3rs
Season: 2
Part: 7/7
Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Numb3rs and its lovely characters don't belong to me. They do to CBS. Unknown OC belongs to me. We all know the drill…

A/N I: I would like to thank CELADON and EFF for being my Beta-readers as I wrote this story. I really appreciated it! Thank you all for reading and reviewing. You're support was very helpful.

Don't Stay Away From Home For Too Long

Chapter 7: Come back to me.

161616161616

Despite the fact that he was giving his lecture notes his full attention, Charlie remained attuned to the activity of the room – standing by in case Don woke up. His older brother had had a rough night and had been drifting between various stages of consciousness all day. He had woken up briefly, in mid morning. However, his discomfort and confusion had been so obvious and painful to watch that Alan had encouraged his firstborn son to go back to sleep immediately. Don had not woken up since. Nonetheless, Charlie, Alan, and their other regular visitors had stood vigil by his side. They had kept on talking to him and assuring him that he was not alone, that he could take all the time he needed to get better, that they would be waiting for him, and, most of all, that they cared for him and loved him.

His senses on alert, Charlie noticed the change in the beeping pattern emitted by the heart monitor right away. He closed his eyes and listened more carefully. His heart rate started to race as he realized that Don's was actually slowing down. It was also getting more and more irregular. No-no, this can't be happening, Charlie denied. Don's pulse is already too slow! Charlie hastily scrambled to his feet and swiftly put down his laptop on the chair he had just vacated. He had hardly reached his brother's bedside when a first alarm went off.

"Don? Don, can hear me? Can you open your eyes for me, bro?" he fired away, trying to keep his growing panic out of his voice. His questions failed to raise his brother. Don appeared to be in deeper stage of sleep. His features were relaxed. His skin seemed more greyish – as if that could be even possible. He was too still.

Oh G-D, Don looks… He refused to finish that thought.

"Charlie, we need you to step outside," a now familiar voice instructed him sternly.

Charlie looked up at Evelyn, the ICU's Chief Nurse, who was now standing beside him. He wanted to ask what was going on, but no words were coming out. Evelyn appeared sympathetic to his distress, yet she did not bother to provide him an explanation. She unceremoniously pushed him towards the exit. Momentarily, Dr Ma, Dr. Diaz, and another nurse joined the Chief Nurse who was already making some adjustments to one of the machines surrounding her patient.

"He's crashing, again," Evelyn told the doctors. "BP is falling rapidly. Pulse is at 32 and dropping. Oxygen level 97"

Doctor Diaz, the cardiologist on staff, gave a few orders that were readily acknowledged by other members of the medical team.

Charlie cleared the threshold of the cubicle. He then turned around to watch them work over his brother with a morbid fascination.

"Charlie," Sara, one of the daytime nurses, called softly. "Come on. Don't stay there."

He hesitated a moment. But Don…

Sara put a hand behind his back and coaxed him forward. He finally surrendered and started to walk away, only to freeze in mid stride as his brain registered an even more drastic change. The beeping sound had stopped.

No more heart beats…

The heart monitor was now transmitting a continuous sound – a flat line.

Don, you promised to fight.

"We're losing him!" Charlie heard Dr. Diaz shout. "Ready the paddles at 200."

Don't leave me… Don't leave Dad.

Sara continued to gently guide Charlie away from the drama occurring in the cubicle behind them. He followed her lead blindly over a few feet. She withdrew her hand from his back just before he was pulled into a tight embrace. Instinctively, Charlie buried his head into Alan's neck.

Please, Don, remember…

Father and son held on to each other for dear life, sharing their fear, their heartache, and their hope in silence.

We love you, Don. We still need you.

1717171717

David Sinclair walked into the ICU department with a newspaper in his hand. Over the last week, he had gotten into the habit of saving the sport section so he could read it to Don during his lunch hours. It was part of a routine his team had put in place in order to give Alan and Charlie some much needed breaks during the day. David rounded the nursing station. He noticed from the corner of his eye that the beautiful Sara was working again today. Maybe we'll have the time to chat a bit before I have to go back to the office, he thought. He knew Don would not mind if he cut his visit a bit short in order to chat with Sara. After all, his friend had dropped him a few lines encouraging him to do just that.

SARA CUTE, Don had written on a pad a few days earlier, as he had caught David watching Sara return to the nursing station.

"You think so too, huh? I guess you don't have anything better to do than to check out the nurses, do you? I'd be checking them too if I were you," David had joked. Don had replied with a weak nudge at David's newspaper with his pen. "Okay, I am checking out the nurses."

GO TALK, the senior agent had written back on the pad.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" David had teased him.

NO TIME LK PRSNT, Don had pointed out.

"There's plenty of time," David told him. It was true. There was plenty of time for him to talk with Sara. His time with Don, however, could possibly be counted. "Okay, how about I finish that article first and then go try my luck with her?" He did not wait for an answer. "Where was I? Oh yeah…"

The conversation he had had with the older man suddenly dissolved from David's memory as he neared the entrance of Don's cubicle. David came to an abrupt halt. His mouth went dry. He clenched to the newspaper as he took in the emptiness of the room.

Don was gone. It couldn't be…

David's shock lasted just a few seconds before he resorted to his FBI training. He turned on his heel, ready to demand where his boss was. His words melted in mid sentence as he faced Sara's beautiful smile.

"He's alright, David," she immediately reassured him, looking up at the taller FBI agent with a sympathetic look. "Don's doing fine. He was sent down for an MRI earlier."

"He was sent down with the ventilator and all?" David asked with incredulity.

"No, no more ventilator. Dr. Ma took it out this morning. Don's breathing on his own now. Mind you, he's assisted by a nasal canula. His BP and pulse are still low, but it's nothing major. If Don's continues to follow the normal course of disease, he should improve very rapidly now that he has pulled through the critical phase."

"This is great, Sara!"

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "Especially that we almost lost him not even three days ago."

David allowed himself a deep sigh of relief. "G-D, I was scared there for a minute…"

"Sorry about that," Sara apologized. "Can I make it up to you by inviting you for a coffee? I'm actually going on break."

"That would certainly make up for it," David said with a smile he knew reached his eyes. "Will Don be brought back here after his MRI or is he out of the ICU already?"

"They'll bring him back here," she confirmed. "He won't be move to a regular room until his vitals are judged satisfactory. He should be back in 15-20 minutes, or so. You should be able to see him before you have to go back to your office."

"Alright, let's go, then!"

1818181818

Alan quietly dragged a chair by his oldest son's bed. He sat, letting his crossword puzzle booklet rest on his lap. For a moment, he took the time just sit there, watch, and listen. It was part of his silent vigil routine. A routine that was now well engrained in him after what seemed to be years of practice. It was a routine that Alan could have done without in his humble opinion. Unfortunately, life had had other plans. It had forced Alan Eppes not only to sit and watch his beloved Margaret slowly waste away during the long months that cancer had raged through her body, but also to stand by his oldest son as a virus had done much of the same in a matter of days.

Alan took a deep breath, retained the air in his lungs for a few seconds, and then slowly released it. He repeated these actions three times and allowed himself to enjoy the calming sensations that came with the sample relaxation technique. Although, Alan now felt less stressed than he had during the last few weeks, he was still tensed – secretly worried that things would backfire and take a turn for the worse. Again. Alan doubted he would be able to survive if it did. At times, he wondered how he managed to endure the last weeks at all. Each time Don's heart failed or even came close to it, Alan's almost did too. That said, he had survived, because Don had pulled through this ordeal. His oldest son, the former baseball player, the FBI Agent, the dependable man you could always count on when you needed help, had never given up. He had fought with a deadly virus with everything he had. He had won a fight many others had lost, including a dear friend of his.

Alan opened his eyes and looked up at Don as if he needed to make sure that his first born was still there. His gazed first rested on his son's chest. It was steadily rising and falling. Contented, Alan's moved his red-rimmed eyes to Don's face – a face that was still pale but no longer partially hidden behind a ventilator, or any other equipment for that matter. Alan found himself longing to reach for that face and caress it tenderly. He refrained from it, however, telling himself that doing so would probably wake up his son. Don needed all the sleep he could get in order to get better faster.

Alan grinned to himself. Yeah, everything is fast with Donnie. Don had been fast on the baseball field. He had moved up quickly in his career. He had relationships that were short lived. He had come close to death in the blink of an eye many times. He would also have a speedy recovery – at least they all hoped he did. With that, Alan knew that Don would be back at work in no time, too. He will, Alan thought. Whether I like it or not.

A shadow disturbed the soft lighting coming from the hallway. Alan looked up at Charlie. He noticed, not for the first time, that his youngest had lost some weight. They all had, including Don's friends and co-workers who had passed many lunch breaks at the hospital so that Alan and Charlie could get some food and rest.

As for Don, he was now as bony as Alan had ever seen him. His oldest son had never been an overweight man, but he had never gone through the slinky phase either like his brother had. He always had well defined muscles that gave him a strong stature. Well, until now. Today, not only was Don's little fat gone, so was his musculature. That said, Alan knew he would be there to fat his son up and that he could count on Charlie to coach his brother back in shape.

Alan gave his younger son a smile that reached his tired dark eyes.

Charlie shook his head. "If Don catches you sitting by his bedside even now that he's at home, he'll raise hell," Charlie whispered to him.

"I know," Alan told him. "Let him try. I came prepared."

"I'm sure you did," Charlie said, returning his dad's smile.

"Besides, do you really think that your brother could win an argument with me?"

"Huh… no," Charlie had to agree.

"Sure, I could," came a weak and sleepy voice from the bed.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," Alan reminded Don.

"Huh-huh… and I'm supposed to do that with the racket the two of you are making?"

"Racket?" Alan questioned his oldest son's choice of word.

"Aren't you used to sleeping with all kinds of sounds around you by now?" Charlie asked, remembering how noisy Don's corner of the ICU had been while he was hooked to all those machines that had sustained his life for almost two weeks.

"I got unused to it," Don mumbled. "How am I supposed to sleep if you guys are talking about me? At least, have the decency to do that elsewhere."

"Look at it this way, it gives you a chance to defend yourself," Charlie argued.

"Yeah, right," Don replied sarcastically.

"Well, it just goes to show you that you shouldn't stay away from home for too long," Alan told him.

"Meaning what?" Don asked

"The longer you stay away from home, the more it legitimates our right to fuss over you once you're back."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," Alan replied. "It's father and brother's privilege."

"Brother's too, huh?"

"Yes," his father confirmed.

"Does it go both ways?" Don asked him.

"Of course, it does," Alan said.

"Fair enough, then. I can't argue with that."

"No, you can't," his father said, throwing his youngest son a triumphant smile. He looked back at his oldest. "Now, go back to sleep. I would like to finish my crossword puzzle."

Don gave his dad a quizzical look. He heard Charlie chuckle. He turned to face his little brother who blinked an eye at him. Don grinned. "It's good to be home," he finally said.

"For all of us," Charlie added.

"Yes, it is," their father agreed. "Yes, it is."

Alan sighed with contentment. Things would be all right. He just knew they would.

1919191919

THE END

A/N: That's it! I hope you liked it!

Regards, Isa.

July 2006.