Chapter 12

Archimedes and Alan stood just inside the door.

"Damn." It was an uncharacteristic word for Alan, and Archie raised her eyebrows, but didn't say anything. He'd had a hard week.

"I was really going to let him have it. Ditching us like that. Sneaking back to the hospital."

Archie smiled, looking at her husband and his brother. Don was slumped in the chair, head back, asleep. The chair was pulled close enough to the bed that he could easily weave his arm through the rails and keep a grip on Charlie's fingers. Sleep, though, had relaxed him, and the grip had loosened. Now, Charlie's hand rested lightly on top of Don's.

And he was staring at her.

"Oh, my God," she breathed, and was across the room without being aware of walking. "Nectarine!"

Alan, who had been close behind, suddenly stopped. Nectarine?

Archie leaned over the rail and pressed her check against Charlie's. She straightened quickly to look at the monitors. "He feels cooler ... look, Alan! 101!" She beamed happily at him, leaned over the rail again. "Charlie, sweetie. You're awake."

He tried to smile back at her. He wanted to lift his hand from Don's head and touch her, but it was so heavy ... He left it where it was, and just kept looking at her.

She ran a hand into his curls. "How are you?"

He let his eyes close for a moment. "...Tired…"

"I'll bet." He opened his eyes again at the sound of his father's voice.

He looked at him and blinked once. "Happen?"

Alan saw his heart rate shoot up and touched Charlie on the arm. Archie wouldn't let go of the curls Alan really wanted. "Sh. Don't worry about that now. It's all over, you're safe, we're all here. Just rest." Alan smiled broadly. "I'm so happy to see you!"

Charlie tried to smile again. He wished everything weren't so heavy. His eyes slid shut once more, and the heart monitor slowed to its previous number - even lower, Alan was glad to see.

He looked back at his other son. Slept through it all.

He sighed happily. He was really going to let Donnie have it. Someday.

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Don struggled into a more upright position in the chair. He would have stood up - that was always more intimidating - but he was having a hard time waking up and seemed to be trapped in Charlie's bed rail.

He had heard what the doctor said, though, and he was having none of it.

"You're crazy. It's too early."

Dr. Fitzgerald tried to placate him. "It's true that your brother has been very ill, Mr. Eppes. He's still very ill. We get patients up as soon as we can to help them get better - Charlie hasn't moved in five days. We were cautious because of the brain injury. But this morning's MRI shows that all fluid and swelling is gone, and the rest of his injuries are progressing on schedule. We've started allowing him water; tomorrow we'll begin a clear liquid diet, and actually get him out of bed a few times. All I want to do this afternoon is have Charlie sit up on the edge of the bed."

He could tell he wasn't getting anywhere with Don, and he actually backed up a step when Don finally managed to get loose of the bedrail and stood. "A nurse will be here the entire time, standing right next to him. You can stand on the other side, if you want."

"Donnie..." Alan began, but Don shook his head. He'd been in a sound sleep, and when pulled out of a sound sleep, he was always angry. When Charlie's comfort and health was threatened, and he knew about it, he was always angry. It was simple math. Angry plus angry, equaled - really angry.

He felt fingers brush against his arm and looked down. Charlie was staring at him.

"s'okay."

Don felt himself deflate as surely as a balloon impaled on a knife. He looked at Archie, perched delicately on the end of the bed.

"Don't look at me." Archie wasn't happy either, he could tell. "Never one to interfere with a Special Agent on the job."

Dr. Fitzgerald looked at his watch. Families. Who had time for them? "All right, look. Dr. Reese and I have been very generous in allowing you all in here, at all hours, because your presence seemed to be beneficial. I'm telling you now, the instant that stops…"

An alarm sounded and all eyes turned to the heart monitor. Charlie's heart rate had shot up to 120. "No," he begged from the bed, trying again to lift his hand high enough to grab Don. "Stay."

Don turned fully toward him then, grabbing the hand. "Relax, Charlie. I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry." He lifted his head to glare at Dr. Fitzgerald, then looked back at Charlie. "You're okay. Calm down. It's my fault. He woke me up."

Charlie's heart rate was steadily descending, and he managed his first real smile. "Mistake."

Don chuckled. "Yeah. Remember your 8th birthday? You got up at some unreasonable hour, found the bicycle Dad and I were up all night putting together for you, and ran back up to my room, jumping and yelling and..." He looked again at Archie. "It's kind-of my fault his nose looks like that."

She laughed, rubbing her hand absently over the lump of Charlie's legs beneath the sheet. "Good. That means there's a chance for our kids."

Dr. Fitzgerald cleared his throat. "I apologize. I didn't mean to upset Charlie. But you need to believe that I have some idea what I'm doing."

Alan tried to make peace. "Of course. We do."

The doctor held Don's eyes, had a sudden vision of what it must be like to have this man after you - and another of what it must be like to have him on your side. "Okay. New plan. Charlie can rest a few more hours. I'll have the evening staff do it. Perhaps his temperature will be even lower by then."

Don nodded his thanks, waited until the door was almost shut behind him and looked at Charlie again. "You'd better get outta here soon. I'm gonna give that dude a nose job yet."

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It was only 6 when they decided to do it.

Later, after Archie had burst into tears and he and Alan had taken her for a walk to calm her down; much later, after he had slunk back into the room and remembered Charlie's long, slow groan and the heavy slump of his passing clean out and almost slipping off the bed onto the floor; quite a bit later, after he had gone into the men's room and let himself cry...Don comforted himself with the knowledge that he had been right all along.

It was too damn soon.