A/N: Fanfic not playing nice, last two days. Apologies for formatting problems.

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Chapter 10

The hospital actually gave them clearance to use the helipad on the roof, since it was clear and no life flights were currently in transit. Don and Archie took the stairs all the way to the ground floor. Waiting for an elevator was not an option.

The stairwell door let them out into the lobby, and they quickly crossed to the reception desk. "Eppes", the both said at the same time, breathlessly.

The pink lady looked a little frightened.

Archie took a breath. "E- P- P- E- S," she spelled, trying to force calmness into her voice.

The volunteer looked at her computer. "Which one?"

Don and Archie looked at each other. Don managed a strangled, "What?"

"We have two," the volunteer said pleasantly. "Alan is in the ER, and Charles is in ICU."

"What?", asked Don again, and then Archie was clawing at his arm.

"Come on. Come on. We'll start with Dad, in the ER. It's closer, and he can tell us what's going on." She started down the hall without him, and he took a few quick steps to catch up.

Once in the Emergency Room waiting area, they gave Alan's name to another pink person, another computer. "Treatment Seven," she said, pointing. "You can go on…" She didn't have a chance to finish her sentence. Don found the "7" on the wall, and pulled back the curtain to that cubicle. When he saw his pale father, tethered to an EKG machine, talking to a Rabbi...Don stumbled and the world went gray. He would have gone down but for a sudden strong arm around him.

Alan's chart clattered to the floor when the doctor dropped it to catch Don. The Rabbi quickly stood, and between him, the doctor and Archie, they managed to get Don to the chair. The doctor kneeled in front of him.

"Breathe. Take a breath. You're all right. Listen to my voice. Look at me. That's it. Just calm down, relax ... keep breathing, that's it." He glanced quickly over his shoulder at Alan, who was suddenly standing behind him, disconnected wires hanging all over the place. "Sit down, Mr. ..." The doctor didn't have any more chance to finish his sentence than the waiting area volunteer had. Oblivious to his still-kneeling form, Alan had Don in his arms, Don was standing again, and the doctor was nearly crushed between their legs.

He popped out from the small space between their knees, and reached for Alan's chart. "I take it you're an Eppes," he said, standing, and was almost knocked over again when Don and Alan moved as one to include Archie in their embrace. The Rabbi reached out to steady him, smiling.

Finally, Don pulled back. "Dad, what happened?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," answered Alan, still touching Don's face with one hand and holding Archie to his chest with the other. "Just a little anxiety thing. Right, doc?"

"Oh, is it my turn, now?" The doctor smiled in spite of himself. "Kind-of an emotional family." Don reddened and the doctor hurried on. "That's okay, that's good, better than the alternative. And yes, Mr. Eppes is fine. I was just coming in to disconnect him and release him..." He looked again at the wires hanging off Alan. "I see he got a head start."

Alan felt Archie turn her head into his chest, and felt her tremble. He moved the hand from Don so that he was fully embracing her. "You know about Charlie." She shook her head against him, and he raised an eyebrow at Don.

"We just know he's here. In ICU. S- Sick." Don reached out a hand to rub Archie's back."What happened?"

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Dr. Reese was just finishing evening rounds when they paged him. He met the Eppes in the ICU waiting room, and agreed to give Archie and Don each five minutes with Charlie. "He's very weak. Please understand that."

He went on to explain the initial injuries, the infection, the high temperature that Charlie had endured for two days, the cooling bed and the ice ... but still, Don was not prepared, when he opened the door and saw his brother.

The world tilted, went a little gray again, and he leaned against the wall near the door and made himself breathe.

His father had told them that a student did this. A sophomore had taken a loaded gun to class and opened fire, killing four outright, wounding seven more students and both Charlie and Larry. Two more students had died since the shooting almost five days ago. While they were waiting for Dr. Reese, Don had used the public phone to call David, told him to take Megan directly to his brother's house when they got back into L.A.

He pushed himself off the wall and slowly approached the bed. Charlie exhaled and Don heard the low moan. He took in the bandages. The flushed, hot skin.

At the bedside now, he reached out a hand, pulled it back. He was afraid to touch him. "Charlie." Don noticed that his own voice was little more than a whisper, but he couldn't seem to do anything about it. "Charlie. It's okay, we're all here now." His breathing was shallow, rapid. Don looked at the monitors. Temperature 103.2. Pulse 97. Respirations 25. Because Charlie couldn't, Don counted. Because Charlie made it so easy, moaning on every exhale, Don counted 125 breaths before he sensed Archie beside him. He knew he should give her some time alone with Charlie, but he couldn't seem to make himself to that, either.

"I'm not leaving."

She leaned over and kissed Charlie gently on dry, parched lips. "Hey," she said softly into his ear. "You were already a hot kisser. You didn't have to go this far." She straightened. "I'm not leaving either." Her voice was stronger than Don's. He wondered how she could do that. "You hear me, Charlie? Archimedes has not left the building."

She wanted to hold his hand, but one arm was nothing but bandage and soft cast from the elbow down, and the other was full of tubes. She picked the one with tubes and lightly ran her finger around the needles, as if negotiating a maze.

Don was going to check the monitors again, but Alan was suddenly blocking his view.

"I couldn't wait out there. I called Mrs. Singer, and she'll stay with Larry until Megan arrives. I'm not leaving him tonight." Alan waited as if he expected an argument, but nobody even looked at him. All eyes were on Charlie.

Twenty minutes later Dr. Reese decided to make one last visit before he called it a night. Opening the door, he was surprised and momentarily disturbed to see all three still there. He approached to escort them out, watching them. Charlie Eppes' wife carefully wiped his brow with a cool cloth. His brother ran another cloth along first one upper arm, then the other. His father's hands guided a third cloth in long and gentle strokes from his knee to his ankle, then stopped to massage Charlie's foot. They were quiet, save for a hum coming from his wife. It was barely detectable over the noise of the monitors.

The monitors. Dr. Reese checked them. Charlie's temperature had gone down almost a full degree since his wife and his brother had arrived, his pulse and respirations were lower. He still moaned, but his wife seemed to anticipate them, and harmonize.

Dr. Reese silently turned and left the room. He needed to advise the nursing staff that Charlie's family could stay as long as they wanted.