Charlie was halfway through the second book on aphasia when he heard Don shift on the sofa. Folding down the corner of the page, he set the book on the coffee table and waited as his brother rolled over to face him.

"Hey, Don," he spoke as the older man looked at him. "How are you feeling?"

Don shrugged and yawned, sitting up and leaning against the couch cushions.

"Tell me, Don. Are you tired? In pain? Fine? How do you feel?"

The older man gave him a stubborn look and rolled his eyes. "No."

"See?" Charlie asked as he grinned. "That's a good answer. Now, how about the answer to my question?" Seeing that his brother wasn't giving in, Charlie adopted a pleading tone. "For me, Don."

The other man sighed and his face scrunched up in concentration. "Sleepy. No... awake."

"Sleepy because you just woke up?"

"Yes." Charlie watched as a small amount of tension left Don's body. "No hurt."

"That's good to know." Charlie studied his brother with an intense look until Don awkwardly shifted in his seat.

"What?"

The younger man grinned. "I like hearing you talk. The sound of your voice makes me think that everything's going to be alright."

Don raised an eyebrow. "Funny?"

"Am I joking? Is that what you meant to say?" Don nodded. "Say it, then."

"Funny."

"No," Charlie insisted in a soft tone. "Say the right words. Watch me and copy what I do, okay?"

"No kid," his big brother protested.

"I know you're not a kid, Don. I'd never think that about you. But you do need a little bit of help to get back on track, and I want to be the one you turn to." Charlie moved to sit next to his brother on the couch. "Please let me help, Don."

After a long, tense pause, the older man looked up and nodded solemnly. "Charlie."

"Okay," the other man nodded, his curls bobbing in excitement. "You wanted to say, 'Are you joking', right?" A nod. "Let's take it one word at a time. Are."

"Car." Don's face fell as he heard the wrong word come out of his mouth. Shaking his head, he snapped, "Hard!"

"It's not too hard, Don," Charlie soothed as he rubbed his brother's shoulder. "Let me grab something that will help." The young man bolted from the couch, up the stairs to the bathroom and quickly returned to Don's side, offering him the object in his hands. At Don's questioning look, Charlie smiled. "Watch my mouth when I say the word and then look at your mouth in that mirror when you say it."

Don looked at his face in the small handheld mirror, frowning at the way the hair on the left side of his head spiked out in random directions.

"It'll grow back," Charlie assured him as though he'd read Don's thoughts. "So, first word..." He paused until his brother looked at him. "Are."

"Ca..." Don watched his mouth in the mirror and silently moved his lips, practicing before he spoke. "Are."

"Great!" the professor congratulated him. "Next... You."

Don pursed his lips and mimicked his brother's movements. He closed his eyes and tried to memorize the feel of his facial muscles as he worked his jaw. "You."

"One more... kidding."

"Kid... ing." Don took a deep breath. "Kidding. Are you... kidding?"

"I knew you could do it!" Charlie exclaimed, giving into his emotions and enveloping his brother in a huge hug. He quickly drew back as Don let out a quiet gasp. "Oh, your ribs! I'm so sorry!"

Don smiled and grabbed Charlie's wrist. "Not bad?"

"Good?"

Don thought for a minute. "Good... all?"

"All good?" The professor's face suddenly lit up. "Okay? It's okay?"

Don nodded and held the mirror in front of his face. "O... kay." He grinned at Charlie. "Don... okay."

--

'Okay' hadn't lasted. Don had made a small amount of progress that afternoon with Charlie, but had quickly slid back into a depressed state as the enormity of his recovery dawned on him. Charlie remained confident, optimistic and persistent as he begged and coerced his brother to keep practicing. Alan kept a watchful eye on his sons over the next few days as they worked together on various practice drills. He could tell that Don – although grateful for his brother's support – was getting very frustrated with his demands. Aphasia aside, Don could physically care for himself with no problems and he seemed to be eager to get back to his apartment. Alan, afraid of what would happen if Don was left by himself, was determined to make sure he stayed at Charlie's house for support. And he only knew of one way to do that.

"Charlie," he called to his son that evening as he came down for dinner. "Can I speak to you for a moment?"

"Sure, Dad. What's up?"

Alan leaned close and lowered his voice. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I think you should go back to work."

"What? But Don's-"

"Doing very well," Alan cut him off. "Physically speaking he's much better and his rehab is going very smoothly."

"But his speech-"

Alan held up a hand. "I know – he still has a ways to go in that regard." Alan took a deep breath and gazed into his youngest son's eyes. "You have been great for Don. You've supported him and convinced him to keep working toward his recovery, but I think it's time you both had a break."

"The more he practices, the sooner he'll get better," Charlie argued.

"I know, but you're working him night and day, almost non-stop. That's not good, either."

"I'm just trying to help."

"And I love you for that," Alan told him. "So does your brother. But I think it would be best if you went back to work and took a break. I'm not saying halt, but just work on it for a little while in the evenings and on the weekends. Otherwise..."

"What?" Charlie asked fearfully.

"I'm afraid Don might get a little burned out. Maybe decide to go back to the comfort and isolation of his apartment. I'd worry more about him then, wouldn't you?"

"I guess so," the professor admitted. "You really think this is what Don needs?"

"I do, yes," Alan replied as he patted his son on the shoulder. "Trust me."

"Well," Charlie playfully grinned. "You are old and wise."

"Really?" Alan asked. "Guess who's doing the dishes tonight?"

Charlie mumbled something unintelligible as he grabbed a stack of dishes and went to set the table.

--

Don savored the bite of steak in his mouth, relishing the fact that there was no more hospital food anywhere in the near future. He opened his eyes and blushed at the amused expressions on his father's and brother's faces. "Good."

"Thank you," Alan grinned. "But I don't think you've ever met a steak you didn't like."

Don smiled and popped another bite into his mouth.

"So," Charlie said as he reached for another helping of broccoli. "I've decided to go back to work tomorrow."

Don raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah. As much fun as I've had spending time with you, I can't let my work go unattended for too long. I hope you understand." He looked expectantly at his older brother.

Inside Don was doing somersaults. He loved his brother and appreciated everything he was doing for him, but he'd gotten so frustrated lately that he just wanted to... No, can't think that way about my own brother, he chastised himself.

"Don? Are you okay with that?"

Don looked at his little brother's worried expression and quickly nodded. "Okay."

"Good," the younger man grinned. "I'll still be happy to help you practice when I get home."

"Sure," Don replied. "I that like."

"You mean..." Charlie trailed off as he gestured with his fork for Don to switch the word order.

"Oh. I... like that." Don basked in the loving looks of his family as he finished off his steak. Maybe things are finally going my way.

TBC