Don was sitting up – well, the head of the bed was slightly elevated – when Charlie got back to the room. Don grinned at his younger brother and weakly gestured with his right hand. "Check it out."

"Impressive," Charlie said in awe.

Don looked at his father. "See? Charlie thinks it's good. Quit worrying, Dad."

"I'm your father and as such I have a right to worry."

Don rolled his eyes and looked back at Charlie. "So, you were going to finish telling me what happened."

"Oh, right," Charlie remembered. He sat on the sofa and propped his elbows on his knees. "Where were we?"

"I remember being wet," Don reminded him.

"That's right. We weren't outside – we were inside in a shower. Since the blast happened in the chemistry building we wanted to make sure we rinsed off any chemicals that you might have been exposed to."

"What about you?" Don asked, the concern in his voice matching the concern in Alan's eyes.

"Turns out the chemical involved isn't toxic so there's no exposure to worry about, but I wound up getting thoroughly rinsed as well from taking care of you. Then the paramedics came and I rode to the hospital with you."

"I do remember that," Don whispered. "I remember you being there... holding my hand?"

"Until the ER nurse made me let go," Charlie confirmed. "That was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I was afraid that..." He swallowed past the lump in his throat before speaking again. "Anyway, you know the rest."

"What about my injuries?" Don inquired. "I'm pretty sure the doctor or nurse told me at some point, but I've been a little fuzzy the past twenty-four hours."

"Torn spleen which they operated on and repaired, bruised kidneys and liver, dislocated shoulder, and a mild concussion," Alan called out the list by memory. "As bad as it sounds, you actually got off pretty lucky for someone in an explosion."

"I don't feel lucky," Don joked, wincing as it fell flat.

They were interrupted as Anna, the current on-duty nurse, entered the room. She smiled at the two visitors before stopping at Don's bedside. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," he answered. Truth be told his stomach was starting to lightly throb, but he didn't want to say anything that would make her lay the bed flat again – he was enjoying not feeling like an invalid at the moment.

"Well, let us know if you start to feel any pain, Mr. Eppes. We can get you some pain meds and lay you back down. I don't want to put too much strain on your injuries."

"I promise I'll let you know," he lied. Don glared at his father as he snorted doubtfully.

"Okay, Mr. Eppes, your vitals look pretty good. I'm going to see about some broth and jell-o for lunch. How's that sound?"

Don raised an eyebrow. "Do your patients ever say that sounds good?"

Anna chuckled. "Okay, you've got me there. Let's try it anyway and, if all goes well, maybe we can try something approaching the status of 'real' food for dinner."

"Deal," Don agreed.

Anna left the men alone and reappeared in a few minutes with a tray of broth and jell-o as promised. She set the food on the bedside table and studied Don. "Alright Mr. Eppes, I think you're going to need some help with your lunch."

Don gave her a puzzled look and followed her gaze first to his bound left arm and then to his right hand which was still encumbered by an IV. "Oh," he mumbled as realization hit.

"So, me, your father, or your brother – who's it going to be?"

Don pouted as he weighed each possibility. He didn't like the thought of the nurse feeding him, but he also knew he'd feel uncomfortable with either family member. It might be worse with Charlie given that he would feel awkward about feeding his big brother, and at least his father had fed him before, even if it was a long time ago... "Dad," Don reluctantly decided. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not, Donny." Alan took a seat next to the head of the bed and smiled at Anna. "We've got it from here, thank you."

"I'll be back later to get the tray and lower the bed back down."

"But-" Don began.

"You have to take this slowly, Mr. Eppes," Anna gently reminded him. "If you overdo it, you'll just be making yourself miserable plus setting back your recovery, and we don't want that." Anna patted Alan on the shoulder, her silent way of sympathizing with the stubborn streak he must have put up with throughout Don's childhood. "Good luck," she winked at Alan as she left the room.

Alan nodded as he removed the lid on the broth and tucked a napkin under Don's chin. He pretended not to see the embarrassed flush that rose in Don's cheeks as he scooped a spoonful of broth and slipped it into Don's mouth. Alan did watch as his son's face brightened for a moment, no doubt because he was happy to be working his way up to real food. Alan fed his son another spoonful and heard Charlie moving behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and asked, "Everything okay, Charlie?"

"What?" he asked, surprised that his movements had been noticed. "Oh yeah. I was just thinking that I needed to run by my office and touch base with Larry and Amita about my classes. I figured I could come back after that and you could go meet with Stan."

"You two don't have to hold my hand," Don grumbled, swallowing a mouthful of broth. "I'm a big boy."

Alan gave him a stern look. "I think it is a good idea if you have company for the next couple of days." As Don started to protest, Alan cut him off. "Donny, you don't really have the use of either arm. I would think you would appreciate our help."

"I do," Don sighed. Truth be told, he didn't want to be a burden to his family, but it dawned on him that they probably didn't see him as such and that he would never win the argument anyway. "That's sounds like a good idea, Charlie."

"All right then," Charlie answered as he headed for the door. "I'll be back in a little while."

Don watched him leave and fixed his father with a look. "Do you think I'm making him uncomfortable?"

"No," Alan assured him. "You know how your brother is though – he can't stop thinking about his work."

Feeling his concern lessen at his father's words, Don opened his mouth and accepted another spoonful of broth.

--

Charlie entered Larry's office without knocking, finding the older professor with his head on his desk. "Larry?"

"Charles," he said in surprise as he lifted his head from the desk. "I thought you would be with Don."

"I needed a break from the hospital," Charlie quietly mumbled. There was more to it, of course, but he didn't want to add to Larry's already full plate. "I drew up a few outlines for my classes and thought I'd drop them off."

"Are you certain that there is nothing else you'd like to talk about?" Larry prodded.

"No, not right now. You've got the investigation, your classes, my classes – I'll be fine, I promise."

"If you say so, Charles, but you know where to find me."

"I know," Charlie grinned as he handed Larry the disk with his notes on it. "Thanks. I've got to head back to see Don now. I'll call you later."

Charlie left Larry's office and returned to Alan's car. He'd gotten his license back a few weeks ago and, despite a big show of protest, Alan had grown rather comfortable with letting Charlie drive his car. As he slid behind the wheel and started the engine, Charlie took a moment to organize his thoughts. Despite his reassuring words to Alan, he was actually reminded all too well of his mother's time in the hospital. Charlie hadn't visited much, but the few times he had were burned into his memory. He associated everything related to the hospital – the sights, scents, and sounds – with the saddest period of his life. And here he was, reliving those same sensations while watching Don lying helplessly in bed, being spoon fed by his father.

Charlie took a deep breath and cleared his mind. It was his turn to sit with Don while his father, whether he admitted he needed it or not, got his break from the awful memories of the hospital.

An hour later Charlie entered Don's room to find his big brother lying flat in bed, fast asleep. He moved to stand next to his brother, frowning as he noticed the deep lines creasing Don's brow. He looked at Alan who was reading a magazine on the couch. "Dad," he called quietly.

"I know," Alan answered just as softly. "The nurse gave him something for the pain a few minutes ago. It should be taking effect soon." Alan paused as if he was debating what to say next. "Don actually admitted – without any prompting from me or Anna – that he was in pain."

Those words sent a chill down Charlie's spine. "He did? That can't be good."

"No," Alan agreed. "Although I'm proud Don didn't try to hide it from everyone. That's got to count for something, right?"

"I hope so," Charlie said as he took a seat next to Alan. "I can handle it from here, Dad. You should go meet with Stan." He saw the hesitant look in his father's eyes. "I know it's an important business meeting – you've been talking about it for weeks. Go. I can take care of things here and I promise to call you if anything happens."

Alan was about to say no, when he decided that a break would be good for him. "Okay," he said as he rose from the sofa. "I'll be back as soon as it's over."

Charlie flashed him a grin. "Take your time. I know you probably need a break. God knows I did."

Alan bent over and hugged his youngest son. "Thank you for understanding, Charlie. You have no idea how much that helps." He released Charlie and smoothed a hand through Don's hair before silently slipping out of the room.

TBC