Charlie's legs felt enormously heavy as he returned to his house-well, his and Gordon's house.

His thoughts were all over the place, between Peter's startling confession about his childhood and the sinking realization of what was to come for him starting tomorrow, he felt too jittery to even think about winding down for the night.

Gordon was on the couch, reading through a file, pausing when Charlie came through the door. "Your mom went home an hour ago," He said. "She said for you to call her so she knows you're okay."

"I'm fine," Charlie plopped down on one of the chairs. "Nothing happened." He tried to ignore the way Gordon was looking at him, as if he were studying him. He covered his mouth and part of his nose with his hands, breathing slowly.

"Something the matter?" Gordon frowned.

"Did you know about Peter?" Charlie said quietly. "About his dad and him being taken by CPS?"

From the way Gordon gave a heavy sigh, Charlie would wager to say that he did. "He told you, huh?"

"Yeah," Charlie said. "He did. Why didn't you ever tell us?"

"It wasn't my place to say anything, Charlie," Gordon told him. "Peter didn't want anyone to know."

"But you knew all about it?" Charlie clarified.

"I did. I went to see him while he was in the hospital," Gordon explained. "I gave him my card and told him if he ever needed anything then he could call me."

"Did he ever take you up on that?"

"We kept in touch but he never needed me for that reason," Gordon said.

Charlie broke eye contact for a second. "How was it?"

"What?"

"Peter," Charlie elaborated. "How bad was he? You said you visited him in the hospital."

A dark look passed over Gordon's face. He closed his eyes as the memory of that day must have come all too vividly. "It wasn't good, Charlie. He could have died from what his dad did to him."

Charlie looked away. He wanted to ask what exactly happened but thought better of it.

Gordon's eyes briefly flickered back down to his file. "I'm surprised he told you," he said after a moment of silence. "He made me promise I wouldn't tell any of you guys."

"Yeah, well," Charlie muttered. "He did after he found out about-you know."

Gordon nodded.

"He thinks I should try and if it doesn't work out, then he can be taken to someone else."

"And what do you think?" Gordon asked critically. "Are you still against it?"

Charlie didn't know what he felt anymore. He'd only just received the call a few hours ago and he was expected to make a life changing decision without much thought to it.

"If you really don't want to-don't."

"I thought you were all for it?" Charlie said, raising his eyebrows.

Gordon sighed. "Charlie, that kid doesn't deserve to go into another bad situation."

Charlie felt like he'd been slapped. "What? I wouldn't-"

"I'm not saying you'd abused him," Gordon frowned, looking apologetic for what he accidentally implied. "But you of all people know how perceptive kids can be. He's going to know if he's not wanted here. He doesn't deserve that, not after what he's been through."

"I know," Charlie hung his head low. He might have reacted too harshly. A part of him still didn't want to open that door, to let himself see what he'd missed out on growing up. But he wasn't completely heartless-he did feel for the kid. He couldn't imagine what he'd gone through, all while Charlie lived his life, not knowing anything.

Gordon set his file aside, looking as though he were trying to think about his next words carefully. "You need to be sure about what you're doing," he started, "he's not something you can toss aside when it gets hard-let me finish," he added when Charlie opened his mouth to protest. "Child abuse is nothing to mess around with. You don't know how badly it affected him and you won't until he's here."

Charlie listened without interrupting.

"I wouldn't recommend taking him in if it's not going to last. Take him in or don't. What's it going to be, Charlie?"

/

Charlie's feet would not move.

It'd taken almost ten minutes for him to get out of the car. He'd just sat there, eyes staring a hole into the steering wheel. The weight of what was about to happen dropped on him like a ton of bricks. But he managed to get out, he managed to walk up inside and into the lobby where he now stood.

"Sir?" His head snapped up, eyes traveling to the front desk where a young woman around his age was trying to get his attention. "Did you need anything?"

A drink. But that was probably not the thing to say.

"Uh yeah," He muttered, walking up to her. "Where's the ICU at?"

He could see sympathy on her face now. She must have interpreted his behavior as being from dealing with a severely ill loved one. "You'll have to take the elevator-" She pointed to her right, "up to the third floor and sign in."

"Thank you," Charlie fiddled with his car keys.

She nodded respectfully at him.

He did as she had instructed. He took the elevator, which was thankfully empty, up to the third floor. As it opened with a soft ding, he came face-to-face with walls that had been painted to look like the sea. It was a children's hospital so they tried to make things merry and bright in spite of the circumstances that had brought them there. His shoes thudded down the hallway, passing by some hand-made drawings that were pinned for all to see. At the end, sitting adjacent to a large door, was a sign that gave some ground rules for visitors. The very first one was that all visitors had to keep a low volume during their time there.

He kept that in mind as he ensured that the door would shut quietly.

He approached the woman sitting at the nurse's station, his heart starting to speed up. "Excuse me," he said.

She looked up from the chart she was looking over, giving him a friendly smile. "Yes? What can I help you with?"

"I'm uh-" He now realized he should have paid more attention to the woman on the phone last night. He had no idea what to tell this nurse. He couldn't even give his half nephew's name. "I'm Charlie. Charlie Conway. I'm here to see my half nephew."

"What's his name?" She asked.

"I...I don't really know," He admitted. "I got this call last night, telling me he needed someone because his parents got arrested and I'm supposed to be talking to someone today...Do I need to show my ID or-"

"Oh," Her eyes lit up. "You're Logan's uncle. Yes, we were expecting you."

Half uncle, he wanted to correct her but didn't.

"Come this way," The nurse, Isabella-according to her name tag- got out of the chair to get beside him, turning on her heel.

He followed her.

The ICU was a somber place, even with the bright colors. He'd never had a reason to go to the hospital as a child, much less be admitted to here. They passed by a dozen or so rooms. Curious, he snuck a glance into a few and was taken aback by the severity of what he saw. At least three kids were on ventilators. Another one, a boy who couldn't have been more than nine, screamed in agony while his parents, through their own tears, tried to tell him over and over that it was going to be okay. Charlie felt sick at hearing the boy's screams and couldn't bring himself to look in to find out why.

"Here you are," Isabella brought him toward the end. There were a few well dressed people standing outside of it. One spoke to a doctor, nodding with his face pinched in a serious expression.

"Logan's uncle is here," Isabella announced to them.

Charlie felt all eyes on him, feeling his stomach drop as Isabella, now done with her task, began to walk away. "Uh, hi," He said lamely. "I'm Charlie. Charlie Conway. Someone called last night..." His words trailed off.

One of the women stepped forward. "Mr. Conway, Debra Fern," She shook his hand firmly. "I'm pleased to see you here. I imagine we gave you quite a shock last night."

He forced a smile. "Uh, yeah. A bit."

You don't know the half of it

"Nevertheless, it's great to see you stepping up," Debra said. "If you'll recall what was said over the phone-"

"Right, uh," Charlie rubbed the back of his neck, "look, I actually don't remember much of that. It was kind of a blur, to be honest."

She nodded as if she'd expected that. She flipped to the fourth page in her paperwork. "Let me give you the short end of it, then: Your half nephew is Logan LaRue. He's twelve years old and in seventh grade. His parents were recently arrested for child abuse. We were trying to locate Logan's paternal grandfather to take him in but his whereabouts are currently unknown."

I guess I should be glad he's consistent then, Charlie thought dryly.

"We were attempting to find Mr. LaRue when we became aware of your relation to Logan."

"Uh huh," Charlie said slowly. "So, what, you want me to adopt him?"

"At the moment, all that's necessary is providing a stable home for Logan in the time until we can find his grandfather," Debra said. "Of course, we need to properly confirm that you have the means of supporting him in the meantime."

"I have a job," He told her. "And I'm about to start teaching this fall."

She made a note of that. "There are a few things we'll have to get done before Logan is released. You will have to get a physical done by next Friday. I'll also have a worker come and check out your home to ensure that it's safe and secure for Logan to live there and we'll go through all the necessary paperwork."

"Uh, okay," Charlie was starting to feel overwhelmed with everything she was telling him. She went through several more things, to which he nodded at the appropriate times. Finally, however many minutes later, she asked him, "Would you like to see Logan, Mr. Conway?"

"Charlie," He said. "Call me Charlie."

"Charlie," She acknowledged. "Would you like to see him?"

He was going to see him eventually. Might as well get this over with. "Sure."

The doctor who had been tending to Logan's care, overheard this. "I must warn you," He said, inserting himself into the conversation, "Logan is dealing with severe injuries. None of them are life threatening, as we've managed to treat those effectively, but they are still quite serious and visibly disturbing."

This made Charlie recall what Gordon had told him about Peter. Should he be bracing himself for something similar?

"Okay," he said when he remembered that they were waiting for him to say something. "That's fine."

"Come along, then," Debra said in a no-nonsense voice.

They rounded the corner where a long white curtain was shielding Logan who was on the other side. Debra gently pulled it back, speaking softly before she let Charlie be seen. "Hi sweetie. Do you remember me telling you about your uncle? He's here now. Do you want to see him?"

Charlie couldn't hear what was said but evidently, Logan had given the okay because Debra glanced over her shoulder and nodded her head in a way that he supposed meant that he could come in.

The curtain was pulled back the rest of the way, revealing his half nephew laying on the hospital bewd.

The sight made Charlie's breath hitch.

He was no stranger to injuries, having seen plenty on the ice. But this went way beyond anything he was accustomed to seeing. The boy's face was terribly bruised. There was some stitching done by the doctors but it couldn't hide the purplish hue or the swollen cheekbone. His ankle was wrapped up and propped up, not to mention he was hooked to at least four or five different poles.

But what really stood out to Charlie was the ever present green marks on his neck. Handprint marks.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

"Logan," Debra said with a smile, "this is Charlie." She gestured towards him. Logan's hazy eyes flickered to him and he felt like he had to muster up some kind of smile.

But he was pretty sure it looked like a grimace.

"Uh, hi," Charlie said when Debra's stern eyes met his. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Logan's whisper was barely audible. Charlie had to strain to hear him. His voice was hoarse, strained. He wouldn't look Charlie in the eye, not for very long.

"Logan," Debra said, "Charlie's going to take you home with him until we can find your grandfather. Would you like that?"

The kid was twelve, not two. Charlie wasn't sure why she was speaking to him as if he were much younger but whatever. He saw Logan swallow, grasping the sheet with battered hands. He nodded but still refused to look Charlie in the eye.

"You can just call me Charlie when that happens," He offered, feeling like he should say something. "We're not close enough for the whole uncle thing, you know?"

Was that the wrong thing to say? Debra's mouth had thinned out.

He could tell she was a joy to be around.

"Okay," Logan mumbled.

"Logan, we'll be right back," Debra said, shooting him one last smile before she turned, that smile dropping as her eyes passed over Charlie. She motioned with a single finger for him to join her back in the hall.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Yes, you said something wrong," Debra kept her voice down but it was clear she was unhappy. "What were you thinking, telling him that?"

"What? The uncle thing? Just making him comfortable," Charlie didn't see why she was freaking out over it.

She shut her eyes, searching for some patience. "He doesn't need to be reminded of anything right now. Not only has he gone through a traumatic experience, but he was taken away from his parents and found out that he has a family he didn't know existed. His world has been turned upside down. It's a lot to take in, especially when you put that on top of all his injuries. That boy is in pain. He's had a very rough couple of days so no, Mr. Conway, he doesn't need you to remind him about anything even if you are being sincere about wanting him to be comfortable."

"Sorry," Charlie mumbled. He hadn't really looked at it from that angle. He would probably be overwhelmed if he was in Logan's spot.

She calmed down, taking a deep breath. "This needs to work out, Charlie. This needs to be a good placement for him until we can get ahold of his grandfather. If it won't be, you need to tell me so we can make other arrangements."

Charlie was slightly abashed. He glanced over to where the door was for Logan's room. He'd felt completely against the idea just last night until Peter laid into him for it. Still, he'd been unsure this morning but after taking a look at the kid-

He'd never seen anything so horrific and to know that his half brother had done it was difficult to swallow.

Maybe he had been a bit selfish about the whole thing. Seeing Logan laying there afraid made Charlie's stomach drop.

He knew he had to do something.

"It'll be fine," He said. "Don't worry."

She was not convinced. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," He said. "It'll work out. We'll be fine."

She pursed her lips. "You better hope it does. I don't want to see that boy get hurt."

He watched as she walked down the hallway to speak to someone else.

All you have to do is watch the kid for a little while until your dear old dad shows up. You can do this, Conway

But then another thought occurred to him.

His place was only a two bedroom. If Logan came then-

Then Gordon would have to move out.