Chapter 6
Charlie woke up again.
There was no comfort, in his world.
He couldn't stay awake, he couldn't stay asleep.
This time he only saw Don looking at him. He couldn't find his father.
Don grinned. "Hey. You've been out a few hours."
What? Hadn't it only been a few seconds?
Don got up and took a cup off the bedside table and spooned some ice chips into Charlie's mouth. Charlie closed his eyes and let them melt, and then Don gave him some more, frowning when his hand touched Charlie's cheek. He was still burning up. Weren't all of these antibiotics ever going to work? Poor kid had been consumed with fever since before he woke up, almost 12 hours ago.
Charlie shook his head when Don touched his lips with the spoon again, and looked at him through eyes at half mast. "Dad?"
Don set the cup down and pulled the chair he had been sitting in closer to the bed and sat down again. "It's late, Buddy. Almost 11 at night. I talked him into going home for a few hours."
"How?"
Don grinned. "Had to agree to spend the night with you — at least until he gets back. I hope he can get some sleep, but I fully expect to see him again within three or four hours."
Charlie frowned. "No."
Don leaned forward a little. "What's wrong?"
Charlie's eyes drifted shut again. "Need…your sleep. You go."
Don rubbed a hand up and down Charlie's arm. "No, Charlie, it's okay. I've got a lot of time backing up, I need to take some anyway. The team knows I won't been in this week."
Charlie shifted a little and opened his eyes again. It seemed to take him a while to focus on Don. "Dad mad?"
Don straightened a little, wondering how he could have figured that out, then finally decided his brother was asking if Dad was mad at him. "He's all right. He's worried. We'll talk about that later."
Charlie's eyes opened a little wider. "About what?" He shifted again. "I'm sorry." He tried to lift a hand, but one was being held down by Don, and the other was way, way too heavy.
Don read Charlie's body language and reached for the cool washcloth, began gently bathing Charlie's face again. "Shhh, Charlie, don't worry about it. Everything is okay, now." Don almost hated himself for the next thing he said. He should give Charlie a little more time, to get stronger. "Buddy…Charlie, you know I love you, right?"
Charlie eyes has lost their focus on Don, and he tried to search out Don's face again. Finallly, he found him and looked at him, confused. "What?"
Don put the washcloth back in the basin of cool water and sat back a little in the chair. "Just…just don't do this again, okay? Don't pull a Lone Ranger on us, Charlie. Let me be your brother."
Charlie blinked a few times, and then Don was terrified to see a tear sliding out of one eye and down his brother's cheek. He leaned forward again quickly and caught it with his hand. "Hey, don't, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Charlie inhaled as deeply as Don had seen him manage since the surgery and shuddered a little. He closed his eyes and leaned his head toward Don's hand. "Long Ranger had Silver," he said.
Don grinned. "Are you calling me a horse?"
Charlie grinned a little too, although he kept his eyes closed. "Sorry. You wanna be Tonto?"
Damn. Charlie's face was so hot. Don reached for the washcloth again. He tried to keep his touch gentle and his voice soothing. "Sure, Charlie, I'll be Tonto," he said quietly. "Go back to sleep. Tonto keep watch, kemosabe."
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At least the elephant was gone, now, having been replaced by a much smaller animal. Or perhaps a Volkswagen Bug.
Charlie looked around tentatively, afraid to see the clowns again, but then he noticed that he wasn't at the circus anymore. All the other people were gone. Even the Ring Master was gone. He seemed to be standing in the desert…Death Valley or something. The sun was at its zenith in the sky and beat down upon him relentlessly. Sweat rolled into his eyes as he looked down and saw that here, in the middle of the desert, there was a campfire — and he was standing in the middle of it. Flames licked at his feet, his legs, his arms, his torso, his face… Looking through them he could see the outline of someone standing in front of him with a bucket. He couldn't be sure, the sweat in his eyes and the flames distorted everything, but it looked like Donnie. Whoever it was prepared to douse the flames with whatever was in the bucket, and Charlie looked forward to it eagerly. But when the water hit him, it was hotter than the fire, hotter than the sun. It blistered his skin and Charlie hoped that he would melt into the flames. Anything. Just let it be over.
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"He's so restless," Alan fretted.
He stood at the head of Charlie's bed, and smoothed the sweaty curls off his son's forehead. "And so hot. This fever is much too high."
Don stood on the other side of the bed, his hand resting lightly on Charlie's arm. Even the arm was hot. "I know. It's been like this for 24 hours. Dr. Reynolds was here just before you came back. He said that's why they're continuing the morphine, they want to keep him sleeping as much as possible. And they changed one of the antibiotics."
Alan reached a hand out and Don automatically retrieved the washcloth from the basin that was nearest to him and gave it to his father. Alan began to bathe Charlie's face. He spoke quietly. "Well," he said, "you know the deal, Don. Time for you to go home and get some rest."
Don rubbed his brother's arm, reluctant to leave. "Right," he answered, and stayed exactly where he was.
Charlie shifted in the bed and tossed his head on the pillow. He cracked his eyes open, saw Don and closed them again. "Wrong bucket," he whispered, and Don looked at his father.
Alan shrugged. "Don't ask me," he said. He continued to stand over Charlie as Don sat down again.
"Charlie? Do you need a bucket, Bro?"
Charlie turned toward the voice and tried to open his eyes again. The eyelids fluttered a little and then he gave up. "Please," he said.
Don looked at Alan again. "Do you think he feels nauseous?"
Alan kept working with the washcloth. "I don't know. Maybe we should have something just in case."
Don opened the bedside table and rummaged inside until he found an emesis basin, then placed it on the top of the table where Alan could easily reach it. "I've got it, now, Charlie."
This time Charlie managed to open his eyes and he looked pleadingly at Don. "Try sand this time," he said, and his eyes drifted shut again.