A few minutes later, Charlie's cell phone rang. He glanced at the display and answered it, "Hello, Millie."

"Charlie! I just got your message. Which hospital?"

"Huntington. We're still in the ER waiting room. Don's in recovery now, but they'll be moving him to the ICU for a few hours, and then to a room."

"Any word on how he's doing? I mean since your message."

"Nothing new. We had just talked to the doctor before I called you. It does sound encouraging, though."

"That's good. Listen, I can't come right away, but how about if I call you when I'm ready to leave and you can let me know where I can find you. How's Alan handling this?"

Charlie glanced at his father. "Dad's handling it just fine, Millie."

"I'll stop by after I finish up here. Is there anything I can bring?"

"I can't think of anything, but I'll call you if I do. Thank you."

"Charlie, how are you holding up?"

A smile crossed Charlie's lips. "I'm doing okay, thanks."

"You're not blaming yourself, are you?"

Charlie was startled. "Whatever makes you think that?"

"I know you, Professor Eppes. You take your math and its repercussions personally."

Charlie sighed. "That's true." He glanced at Amita and his father and lowered his voice before he continued, "And I do take some responsibility for what happened. I didn't account for all the variables..."

"Charlie. Don't do you dare fall into that trap. Granted, you're a genius. But not even geniuses can know everything. It's too bad Larry isn't here to talk some sense into you."

Charlie laughed. "It's not often I hear 'Larry' and "talk sense' in the same sentence."

"All right. It's good to hear you laugh. Don't brood, young man. That's the worst thing you can do for your brother. Focus on him, not on yourself."

Charlie's mouth dropped open. "Are you saying I'm being self-centered?"

Millie laughed. "I've got to go. But, if the shoe fits..." she hung up, preventing him from arguing further with her.

Charlie flipped the phone shut and scowled at it, considering throwing it across the room. He looked up and saw Alan and Amita staring at him.

"What was that all about?" Amita said.

Charlie shook his head and put his phone in his pocket. "Nothing. Just Millie being Millie."

Alan raised his eyebrows as he looked over the top of his reading glasses at his younger son. "Sometimes you need someone who will be brutally honest with you."

Amita tried to hide a smile, but Charlie saw her. "What?" he asked.

"I just remember your attempt to be brutally honest with Larry when you were convinced he would never go into space."

Charlie felt his face heating up. "Okay, so I was wrong then."

Alan shook his head. "You weren't just wrong. You were thinking of what was best for you, and not what was important to your best friend."

Charlie rubbed his face. "You're right," he said softly. "You think I'm doing the same thing now. Millie accused me of focusing on myself, not on Don." He gave his father a pleading look. "I'm not, am I?"

Alan looked down. "You'll have to answer that one for yourself. Only you know what's in your mind, what's in your heart."

--

After David finished with Charlie, he called the office. Once he had made all the arrangements, he walked back into the galleries. When he reached Liz, he took her aside. "I just got off the phone with Charlie. Don's going to be okay. He had some damage to his small intestine, but no major organ damage. He's going to be fine."

Liz gave David a shaky smile and blinked away the tears that were gathering in her eyes. "That's great! Oh, David, that is wonderful."

He reached up and squeezed her shoulder. "I called the office, and help is on the way. When we finish up here, why don't you stop by the hospital and check on him?"

"Thanks. I will."

David entered the DaVinci room, stepping around the blood stain on the floor, and took Colby aside to give him the good news.

Colby grinned. "He's going to be okay. That's great news." He glanced at the increasingly impatient visitors. "The natives are getting restless, though. The sooner we can get them all processed, the better."

David chuckled. "Man, you have such a way with words. Don't worry, the cavalry is coming. I told Liz she could go check on Don once we're done."

"Is that a good idea? She should be debriefed, don't you think?"

"Of course. Do you want to handle it, or should I?"

"I can do it," Colby said. "We should..."

"Agent Sinclair?" a voice echoed in the gallery.

David and Colby turned to see W. Jennings Stevenson enter the room, not looking at all happy. "Yes, Mr. Stevenson?" David said.

"Agent Sinclair! Why are these people being held?"

"They are witnesses, Sir. We have agents on the way to take their statements. We'll be releasing them as quickly as possible. Then we'll be able to seal and process the crime scene."

All the color drained from Stevenson's face. "The crime scene? You're planning on closing off the galleries?"

"Of course. Our crime scene team will be looking for clues." He raised his eyebrows. "I assume you're anxious for us to find your Michelangelo."

Stevenson scowled. "The Michelangelo would not have been lost if your agents had been in position."

David bit back an angry reply. Instead, he pulled out his cell phone and muttered, "Let me see what's keeping those teams." As he was dialing, he glanced at Stevenson. "Be careful you don't step in my agent's blood there."

Stevenson looked down at the blood stain near the toes of his Ferragamo shoes. He took an involuntary step back and blinked at David. "I was very sorry to hear about Agent Eppes. Have you had any word on his condition?"

Amazing, David thought, the man is human after all. "He's going to be okay. He was still in surgery the last I heard."

Stevenson nodded. "We will of course do everything we can to cooperate with your investigation. Is there anything you need now?"

"I'd like to use an office to debrief several of my agents."

"You can use my office. When you're ready, just speak to any of the security guards. They'll be able to reach me." He stepped gingerly around the blood stain and gripped David's arm. "I truly am sorry. Agent Eppes is a good person." He turned and left the gallery without another word.

After he was gone, Colby shook his head. "I didn't see that coming."

"Me either," David agreed.

--

The waiting room was quiet again. Charlie fidgeted, staring at the magazine but lost in his thoughts. Amita was reading her magazine with one hand resting on Charlie's knee, rubbing it gently. Alan had actually started filling in numbers in his sudoku book. All three jumped to their feet when the double doors opened and a nurse entered the room. She smiled, "Hi. I'm Andrea. Are you folks here for Don Eppes?"

"Yes," Alan said, "how is he?"

Andrea's smile widened. "He's doing great. The doctor asked me to take you to ICU to see him. He'll be unconscious for a while yet, but you can sit with him for a few minutes if you'd like."

"Thank you," Alan said, "We would like nothing better at this point."

"He's so pale," Charlie said softly as they entered Don's room. His eyes went automatically to the heavy bandages on Don's belly. "That must have hurt," he murmured, unconsciously rubbing his own belly.

Alan hurried to Don's side, and touched his son's cheek gently. "He feels so cold."

Andrea went to the foot of the bed and pulled a blanket up to Don's shoulders. "That should help. He lost quite a bit of blood." She checked the IV bags. "This will be his last unit of blood for now. They stopped the bleeding, but he has a little catching up to do. This bag," she indicated a bag of clear fluid, "contains some pretty heavy duty antibiotics. We'll monitor him in here for a while and then move him to a room." She checked her watch. "I'll be back in about fifteen minutes." As she turned to go, she touched Alan's arm. "He'll be fine."

Alan couldn't take his eyes off of Don's face. He brushed Don's hair with his fingertips. "Oh, Donnie," he whispered, "my poor boy."

Charlie stood next to Alan, and gently took Don's hand in his, careful not to jostle the IV tubes. He blinked back tears and gnawed on his lower lip. "Don," he said softly, "I am so sorry."

Alan shot a glance at Charlie. "Don't," he said.

Stung by Alan's command, Charlie released Don's hand and stepped back. "Maybe I should just go."

"Stay," Alan said. "Don't you dare walk away from your brother when he needs you."

Charlie sighed and took Don's hand in both of his. "Hey, Bro. You hang in there, okay? We're here for you." He met Alan's gaze and said, "All of us, and we're not leaving."

Amita came up behind Charlie and wrapped her arm around his waist. "Oh, Don," she said, her voice breaking.

Charlie felt Don's hand moving inside his, and he squeezed back. Don's eyes fluttered and his lips moved. "Shhh," Charlie said, "Just rest, Bro. We're here."

Don took a deep breath and slowly let it out. His hand relaxed inside of Charlie's hands and his breathing slowed and deepened.

"That's good," Alan said, "Relax, Son."

Charlie leaned back against Amita. She knew he needed all the support he could get right now, so she just hugged him tighter and pressed her tear stained face against his shoulder.

A few minutes later, Andrea returned. Alan looked at her. "Already?"

"I'm sorry. I'm going to have to take you to the ICU waiting room. You can visit him for ten minutes every hour."

"Thank you for giving us this time with him," Alan said. "He stirred a little. It seemed like he was going to wake up, but he didn't."

She smiled. "With the sedatives and painkillers he's got in his system, I'd be very surprised if he wakes up before evening. Come on, I'll show you where you can wait. This waiting room is a little nicer. They have their own coffee and hot water for tea or cocoa up here." She led them to a small, quiet waiting room.

A receptionist looked up from her desk and gave them a kind smile. "Don Eppes' family? Please, make yourselves comfortable. And let me know if there's anything I can do for you."

They murmured their thanks and settled in to wait. Charlie's cell phone rang, and he looked apologetically at the receptionist. "It's okay in here," she said. "Just please turn it off when you're with Don, okay?"

"Thanks," Charlie said as he flipped the phone open. "Charlie Eppes."

"Charlie," Millie said, "I'm on the way to the hospital. Are you still in the emergency waiting room?"

After Charlie gave her directions and thanked her once again for coming, he closed the phone and leaned his head back.

"Tired?" Alan asked.

"More like drained," Charlie said with a sigh, not even opening his eyes. "Emotionally, physically and mentally drained."

"I understand," Alan said. "I feel the same way."

Amita brushed a curl from Charlie's forehead. "Well, I think the two of you are handling this very well. Don's not even my brother, and I just feel like crying." She wiped a tear from her cheek.

Charlie's cell phone rang again. He reached for it and flipped it open. "Charlie Eppes."

"Hey," Liz said.

"Liz," Charlie sat up, rubbing his eyes. "How are you doing?"

"How's Don doing?"

"He's out of recovery and in the ICU. We just got back from visiting him."

"How... how's he look?"

Charlie bit his lip. "All things considered, he looks good. They've got him knocked out, so he's not feeling a thing. He looks really pale, but they're still giving him blood. He... he lost a lot. The surgery was a success. They stopped the bleeding. He's going to be fine."

"Good," Liz said, her voice shaking. "In that case, I'm fine, Charlie. Thanks for asking."

Charlie grinned. "Good. Just don't ask me how I'm doing."

Liz laughed. "I understand. Listen, I'm almost there now. David let me sneak out early to see Don. You're in the ICU waiting room?"

"Yeah, it's..."

"I know where it is. I'll see you there in a few minutes."

Charlie closed his phone. "Well, things are about to get a lot more lively in here. Millie and Liz are both on their way."

"Batten down the hatches," Alan said, smiling. "Liz and Don are getting pretty serious, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Charlie said. "I think they're good together. I'm even getting used to her smart mouth comments."

Alan raised his eyebrows and Amita giggled. "It's true, Alan," Amita said. "She used to drive Charlie crazy."

"Well," Charlie said, "she had a smart remark every time I tried to explain some math concept."

"Charlie, even you have to admit that sometimes your explanations go over everybody's heads."

Charlie blushed. "I guess you're right. But she didn't even give me a chance. We've come to an agreement that seems to be working. She's going to try to tone it down, and I'm going to be less sensitive to criticism."

Alan snorted. "I'll believe that when I see it." He took the bite out of his comment by rubbing Charlie's shoulder. "You've always had a hard time with criticism. But you're doing a lot better than you did when you were a kid. Seriously, I am very proud of the man you've become."

Charlie smiled. "I don't stomp up to my room and slam the door any more."

"At least not as often." Alan said with a smile.