Chapter 22

Coming in to surprise him, and hook up Don's 5 o'clock traction before starting a 12-hour shift, Cecile nearly passed out in the doorway when she saw him in the chair, and heard Charlie's hysterical crying. She grabbed the floor nurse, who was passing in the hall at that moment, and the two of them entered and quickly had Don back in bed, against his will.

The floor nurse ran to call Charlie's doctor and get another sedative ordered, and while she waited for the woman to come back, Cecile picked the pillows up off the floor, and slammed them, one at a time, onto Don's bed. She was livid. She. Was. Livid. She pulled a curtain that effectively separated the beds — the room had originally been designed for two — and then disappeared behind it with Charlie..

Presently, the floor nurse was back with a syringe, and she disappeared behind the curtain as well. Don could hear murmuring, and Charlie's sobs gentling, and finally, nothing. The floor nurse exited the curtain first, glared at Don and walked from the room without a word.

He knew he was in trouble when, two minutes later, Cecile did the same thing.

He was considering what to do about it — and marveling that they had totally missed his traction in the commotion — when the door slammed open and she burst back in, striding to his bed in quick, determined steps.

She spoke in a low voice, trying not to disturb Charlie behind the curtain, but there was still no mistaking her anger. "What did you think you were doing? Taking that kind of risk! This close to it all being over!"

He looked at her, and wished, not for the first time, that Charlie would teach him that wounded puppy thing he did so well. "You saw him."

She crossed her arms, back ramrod straight. "That is what the damn call light is for."

"Baby…he's my brother. You don't press a call light when your brother falls apart. You help hold him together."

One foot tapped on the linoleum floor. Ten times.

"Did you just call me 'baby'?"

He chanced a grin. "Yes?"

She looked at the curtain around Charlie's bed, and back at Don. "So. Getting involved with you means understanding this…bond…you have with Charlie."

He shrugged. "I guess. Look how you feel about Andrew."

She smiled, tightly. Don knew how terribly she missed Andrew, since he had transferred to the San Diego PD a few months before. "That's nor fair."

Don looked at her seriously. "No. It's not. The way we feel about our brothers is not fair. I think it's love."

She dropped her arms from their crossed position, but placed her hands on her hips in an attitude of frustration before she continued. "But can you do me a favor?"

He didn't have the puppy look, so he tried the name, again. "What, baby?"

"Find a way to be close without being idiots."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

By the time Alan arrived around 9, Cecile was working her own rooms and the floor nurse Don had set off was gone, replaced by the day shift. He felt fairly safe, when his Dad asked, upon seeing the curtain, in editing the story.

"We…had a talk, and he got pretty upset. They gave him another shot, around 5 this morning. He'll probably be out for a while."

Alan frowned, looking at Don. Then he moved to push the curtain back and stood over Charlie's bed, brushed the curls from his forehead. "Well…sleep will help everything physical…" He sat in the chair and looked at Don. "What kind of talk got him that upset?"

Don hedged. "You remember, Dad. Family honesty policy."

Alan raised an eyebrow. "He talked to you about what happened?"

Don fiddled with the Grisham novel. "Not…exactly. But he let himself feel it, let me com…let me talk to him, a little."

Alan considered. He looked back at Charlie. It had been several hours, and the nurses had washed his face, but his practiced parent's eye could see the telltale signs. "Let himself feel it…he cried…"

"A lot. Letting all of that out, finally, he's got to feel better, right?"

Alan looked back at Don. "I hope so, son. But I doubt that one good cry is going to do it."

Don thumbed the Grisham novel again, and Alan finally noticed it. "Someone brought that to you? We read that last month in my book club. You'll like it."

Don looked at the cover. "A.D. Walker stopped by yesterday."

"Really. That was considerate."

Don cleared his throat. "Yeah. Actually…actually, it's Director Walker, now. He got Merrick's job."

"Ah." Alan watched Don's face carefully. "How do you think he'll do?"

Don didn't hesitate. "Well. I think he'll do well." He looked away from the book to meet his father's eyes. "He…offered me a promotion. Assistant Director of the L.A. office."

Alan's eyes grew wide. "Donnie! That's wonderful! Congratulations!"

"I didn't accept, Dad." At Alan's crestfallen look, Don hurried on. "I mean, I didn't say 'no', either. He gave me a month to decide."

Alan chose his words carefully. "Whatever you decide, Donnie, it's a real compliment; an affirmation of your skills."

Don exhaled a tiny snort. "I think it's more of a hope for some I haven't tapped, yet. My skills are in investigation, field work, interrogation. I would miss that. Maybe too much."

"Doesn't the A.D. oversee all active cases, and step in when it's necessary?"

Don acquiesced, looking again at the novel. "Yes."

Alan reached out and rubbed Don's shoulder, "I'm not going to tell you what I think, Don, because it doesn't matter. This is your life, your career — both will go on long after I'm gone, I hope. I'll be proud of you no matter what you decide. I hope you know that."

Don smiled. "I do. And I know what you think, too. A.D. would be safer than field work."

Alan dropped his hand from Don's shoulder and started to open the crossword book he was holding in his lap. "That's your assumption, Donnie. I want you to be happy as much as I want you to be safe. Think about it seriously — and then make the decision that's right for you."

Don was still smiling as he finally cracked the novel open.

He would think about it.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

When Charlie woke up, Alan was nowhere to be seen and he could hear Don snoring. So he pushed the call button and asked if he could get up. Within a few minutes, a floor nurse arrived, checked his vitals, and pushed the IV stand for him while he crutched into the bathroom. After he had taken care of business, washed up a little and brushed his teeth, he asked to go the sun room. He still seemed pretty steady on the crutches, so the nurse agreed. The two progressed slowly to the sun room, where she settled him into a chair near the window and left him to sit for a while.

It turned out to be a short while. Alan found him there 15 minutes later. He plopped down in a chair beside Charlie and apologized when his son seems to start awake, as if he had been dozing again. "I'm sorry," Alan said, reaching into a paper bag and removing a wrapped sandwich. "Were you sleeping? The nurse said she just brought you down here." He unwrapped the sandwich and offered half of it to Charlie. "Turkey, pickle, mayo."

Charlie accepted the food and stared at it. "Thanks. It's the warm sun, through the window. Makes me sleepy." He took a bite and Alan smiled.

"Does the same thing to me," he said, reached into the bag again and this time withdrew a bottle of water. He uncapped it and passed it to Charlie. Alan took a bite from his own half of the sandwich while he watched his son drink.

The two ate side-by-side, sharing the bottle of water, for another 10 minutes. When Alan had finished, he spoke. "I understand you had a meltdown."

Charlie grinned a little. "Maybe a little."

"Feel better?"

Charlie repeated himself. "Maybe a little."

Alan nodded, and waited a few more minutes for Charlie to finish the remaining few bites of the sandwich. Once it became apparent that he wasn't going to, Alan relieved him of it and dropped it back in the bag. He wasn't going to give him a hard time over two — maybe three — bites. He'd just get another sandwich later.

Charlie drained the bottle of water and handed it back to Alan. He sighed a little, looking out the window. "Don says I…told you what happened. What I did."

Alan frowned. "He shouldn't have."

Charlie shook his head and spoke matter-of-factly. "No, no, he was right. We can't pretend if didn't happen. Any of it."

Alan didn't answer.

"I…" Charlie kept his gaze on the window, but Alan got the feeling he wasn't really seeing it. "I just can't believe she's gone."

Alan almost didn't answer again. He knew that feeling well. Too well. He finally spoke softly. "I've never said how sorry I am about that, Charlie. But I am. I truly am."

Charlie looked at his father, then. "I e-mailed her, that morning. I invited her to come and stay at the house Thanksgiving weekend. That's one reason I don't want to use my computer. I'm afraid she answered me, and the e-mail is waiting in my in-box."

"That would be difficult. I can see that."

A few seconds of silence passed, and then Charlie spoke again. "I feel bad."

Alan draped an arm over Charlie's thin shoulders, gave a squeeze. "I can see that too, son." He waited a moment. "You won't feel bad forever."

Charlie leaned his head against Alan. "Promise?"

Alan squeezed again. "I promise, Little One."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Early that evening, Megan came by and managed to engage all three Eppes men in "Wheel of Fortune" on television, and resoundingly beat them all. When Charlie started yawning soon after the game, she got up to leave, but he motioned her closer to his bed.

"Can I get you something, Charlie?"

He blinked a couple of times before saying it. "Megan…I think…could you give me some names of counselors, like you offered last week? I think I'm ready, now." Standing between the beds, Megan blocked Charlie's view of Alan and Don, and they exchanged a glance. God Bless Megan.

She smiled at Charlie. "Of course. I'll write a list up tomorrow. You have another day in here, right?" Charlie nodded unhappily. The doctor had been by around 5 and ordered the IV continued for another 24 hours. He probably wouldn't go home until Thursday morning, now — the day before Don.

"Let me make some calls, tomorrow. Find out for sure who has an opening right now. You concentrate on getting home…and we'll rendezvous at your house — Thursday evening."

Charlie looked up at her gratefully, hoping his small "Thanks, Megan" was somehow enough. He yawned again.

Megan reached out and rubbed his arm for a moment. "Get some sleep." She turned toward Don. "Try to lighten up on the snoring, tonight. Charlie's tired."

"I do not snore."

"Right. And David, Colby and I do not draw straws to see who gets stuck with you on an all-night stake-out."

The good-natured ribbing was interrupted by a snore.

"Stop that. You're doing that on purpose."

Don held up his hands. "It's not me!"

They all turned their heads to look at Charlie — just as he snored again.