A/N: Let's chat a while first. How are you all? I ask, because I'M NOT HEARING MUCH FROM YOU! I thank my loyal core of reviewers. I live for your kind words. And I promise the rest of you…I will continue to torture Charlie until I have at least 100 reviews on this story. (Of course, now if I get a bunch of reviews, I'll think you want me to stop, and I'll feel so bad I'll need an after-hours appointment with my therapist. So good freakin' luck on this.)

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Chapter 15

Nine days after the shooting at Cal Sci, Charlie was transferred to the general population of the hospital. His temperature had not dropped below 100 since the infections began, so Drs. Fitzgerald and Reese were cautious — but it had held steady at 100 for two days, so they changed his antibiotics a third time and released him from the ICU.

That same day, after another MRI, his arm was placed in a hard cast. He was upgraded to a soft foods diet, and his catheter was removed. Best of all, Archie started the morning by shaving him. Neither one of them was particularly fond of his week's growth of beard.

He would remain on a special diet for several months, and would always have to be more diligent than ever about his eating regimen. Now that his stomach was smaller, it couldn't hold enough food from a traditional meal to meet his nutritional needs, so the hospital dietician spent time explaining to the four of them that Charlie would need supplements between meals, and his vitamin-intake was more crucial. Alan listened to that and exchanged a forlorn look with Archie. Getting Charlie to remember to eat once or twice a day was often a challenge. This wasn't going to be easy.

On the busy day of his transfer, MRI and casting, Don had left the hospital for a few hours to catch up with his own life. Late that afternoon he was back. He took the elevator to the new floor Charlie was on, walked down the hall, pushed open the door — and almost knocked Charlie over. Even though Don knew that Charlie had been walking small distances for the last couple of days, it had always happened when he wasn't there, and it was a shock to see him upright — a bigger shock to see him clutch at the nurse beside him with one hand when the door opened inches from his face. Don reached out quickly to help steady him.

"Shit, Charlie! I'm sorry — I didn't expect — are you okay?"

The nurse smiled at him. "You missed him by 'that much'. Care to try again?"

Don blushed. "I'm sorry … where are we going?"

Charlie and his nurse started negotiating a wide turn. "We were just walking as far as the door and back this time," she answered. "Charlie's had a long day, already… and I plan a longer walk for later, after he's had some rest." She looked at Charlie. "Let's get you in the bed until dinner. Then you can sit up for a while, and around nine, when things calm down a little, we'll take a hike."

Charlie silently nodded. Don thought he looked like he was counting something. Steps back to the bed, probably — he looked ready to fall asleep on his feet. He waited in the background until Charlie was settled and the nurse had gone. Then he sat in the chair nearest the bed.

"Where is everybody?"

Charlie's eyes were closed already. "I convinced them I would be busy the rest of the day. They went home for a few hours. Coming back tonight."

Don started to stand. "I should go, let you sleep for awhile."

Charlie's eyes popped open and he saw Don standing. "Wait."

Don hesitated, then sat down again. "Need something?"

Charlie rolled his head a little so that he could look directly at Don. But he didn't say anything for so long that Don wondered if he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open.

"Charlie?"

He blinked a few times. "You always take care of me," he finally said. "You always make me feel safe."

Don didn't know exactly what to say to that. Before he could decide, Charlie spoke again.

"I want to be a better brother."

Surprised, Don just looked at Charlie for a moment. "Charlie, you're a great brother. What are you talking about?"

"I don't think I'm there for you — the way you are for me."

Don protested. "That's crazy. Anytime I call for help on a case, you're there, regardless of what's already going on in your life. You worked on a case for me the day you got married!" He grinned. "Although in all fairness, I wouldn't have asked, if I had known you were booked on a flight to Vegas."

Charlie smiled briefly. "You and Dad will never let that go. Anyway, there's more to life than work, Don. I want you to feel like you can count on me for other things, too. This relationship is too one-sided, sometimes."

Don remembered the four days last week he had not been there for Charlie and shook his head, frowned. "I've let you down, Buddy. Lots of times. I should have been here when you were hurt. Or at least reachable. I could have lost you, Charlie, you could have left me."

"Don't." Charlie sighed a little in frustration. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad, Don, I'm trying to … I'm trying to … I'm trying to let you know that I want to be less selfish."

Don shook his head again. "What brought all this on, Charlie?"

Charlie looked away from him and closed his eyes again. "Almost dying, I guess. You get a second chance, you evaluate things. So you can do a better job."

Don sat silently with that.

"Besides being there for you, I don't want you to feel like you have to take care of me all the time. You've got your own life. Eventually, you're going back to work — right?" Charlie was looking at him again.

Don suddenly felt a little uneasy. Maybe he'd been overstepping his bounds. Especially now that Archie was in the picture. Maybe Charlie just didn't need him anymore.

"Hey." Charlie's voice was concerned. "What did I say?"

Don shook his head and tried to smile. "Nothing." He made to stand up again. "I should go."

Charlie's IV lines hit him in the face when Charlie tried to reach for him over the rail. "No. Please. I said something wrong. I'm sorry."

Don looked up at the IV stand. "When are you getting rid of that?"

"Whenever my fever goes away. What did I say?"

Don sighed. "Nothing. Don't worry, Charlie. I guess I just figured out that we're not kids, anymore. You're a married man — to a very determined woman, I might add. She's more than capable of watching your back."

"But … but … that's all wrong."

Don smiled. "Oh?"

Charlie looked at him intently. "You're thinking she replaced you. Not true. She never even applied for your job. Apples and oranges. Calculus and trig. Two different things, a wife and a brother. Can't I need two different things?"

When Don didn't say anything, Charlie kept going. "I didn't mean to imply that I want less of you in my life, Don — if anything, I want more. And … And … I just want it not to be all about what I want … damn. Doesn't make sense." Charlie was tired, his stomach hurt and his arm ached. He was getting hot. He was frustrated. He squeezed his eyes shut. When he spoke again, his voice was dejected. "I shouldn't have said anything. I always screw up at this kind of stuff."

Don leaned back in the chair. He spoke softly. "Charlie. Look at me."

After a few seconds, Charlie did.

Don could see fear, and guilt, and pain in those expressive brown eyes. He didn't want to be responsible for any of it. He wanted to make it all go away.

"You didn't screw anything up. I appreciate all you said. And I've decided a couple of things."

"What?" Charlie's voice was tentative.

"One is that I should let you in more. I've known that about myself for a while. I live very independently. Too much so, sometimes. I promise to work on that." He leaned forward in the chair a little to emphasize his next point. "And the other thing? Charlie, when we both live to the ripe old ages I have planned for us — when I'm 105, and you're 100 — I will still be your big brother, and I will never stop taking care of you, and making you feel safe."

Charlie started to smile, then, but instead a yawn overtook him. "Don't go," he said sleepily, eyes sliding shut.

Don settled back in the chair.