"See you later, Dad," Charlie finished the call and closed his phone. His smile faded when he looked at Liz. "Is Fred going to be okay?"

Liz met Charlie's gaze and then looked back down at Fred. "I don't know, Charlie. I hope so. But you did the right thing, putting pressure on the wound. That was really all you could do. All any of us could do. And calling the ambulance. That was good, too."

Charlie smiled sadly. "Thanks."

"Why don't you lie down. You're looking a little woozy."

"Good idea." Charlie braced his right arm against his chest and used his left arm to ease himself down onto the pavement. "He could have waited until we got on the grass before shooting us."

Liz chuckled. "Inconsiderate creep. How'd your Dad take the news?"

"He wanted to come here. I told him I'd be there soon enough."

"So are we in trouble with him?"

"Hard to tell. He's worried now, but once he's sure I'm okay, I expect the wrath of Dad to rain down on our heads."

"Oh, no you don't! You're an adult. You make your own decisions. That's what you're always telling everybody. You're not going to blame me for this."

Charlie's laugh was cut short by a sharp pain in his arm "Ow! Okay, I'll take the full blame." He closed his eyes and used his left hand to try to adjust his injured arm into a more comfortable position. He wasn't sure if it was loss of blood or the sudden decrease in adrenaline, but he suddenly felt very tired. As he was drifting off to sleep, he heard sirens in the distance.

--

Don looked up as Alan entered the room. "That was fast," he said, digging in to a soft boiled egg.

"Charlie's been hurt," Alan said, slumping into his chair. "They're bringing him here by ambulance."

Don dropped his fork. "What happened? Is he going to be okay?"

Alan filled Don in on the little Charlie had told him. "And he said it was some guy that this witness knew."

"He didn't say which witness?" When Alan shook his head, Don continued. "It had to be Fred Agincourt, the elementary school teacher. Damn, I wish I wasn't stuck here in bed. I need to know what's going on." He picked up the phone and began to dial David's cell phone number. "Dad? Why don't you go down to the ER and wait for Charlie?"

"Will you be okay?"

Don nodded and Alan left. "David? It's Don. What the heck is going on? Dad just told me Charlie's been shot."

"It doesn't sound serious..."

"Serious? It doesn't have to be serious, David. He's my brother. He's a civilian. He's not supposed to be in these situations." Don grimaced at a pain in his midsection. "Listen, do you have time to fill me in now?"

David sighed. "Okay, Liz, Colby and Charlie talked to Fred, then to Francis. They were on the way back to drop Charlie off at the hospital when Fred called in a panic. He said Francis called him and threatened him. He said Francis was coming to Santa Monica to take care of something. I assumed that the 'something' was Grant Catalino, so Ben and I headed back there. Liz and Colby were about ready to talk to Fred when somebody shot at him. Liz said Charlie reacted quickly, and tackled Fred. The bullet went through Charlie's upper arm and into Fred's chest."

Don leaned back gingerly, massaging his aching belly. "What happened with Catalino?"

"Well, it wasn't Francis with him. It was our gray haired woman. Turns out she's Francis and Fred's mother, Felicia Agincourt. Catalino's safe, and Felicia is in custody. We're on the way back to the office now. Don," David said softly, "I'm really sorry about this, and I know Liz feels terrible about Charlie."

Don sighed. "I know, David. I'm sorry I blew up at you. It's just he's my brother, you know? I hate seeing anything happen to him."

"I know, Don. I'm still sorry."

"Thanks, David. It sounds like you're doing a good job with this case. Do I have to worry about having a job when I get back?"

"No! Man, you do not have a thing to worry about. I may see if I have enough vacation coming to get out of here until you're healthy."

Don laughed. "Don't do that. That would put Granger in charge."

When the call was finished, Don closed his phone and looked at the food on the tray. He sighed, pushed the bedside table away and lowered the head of his bed. He glanced at his watch. If he hadn't heard from his father in twenty minutes, he was going to call. And if he didn't answer, he was going to disconnect his IV and walk down to the emergency room. Yeah, right.

--

A quick check at the desk told Alan that Charlie hadn't arrived yet, so he found a seat where he could watch the ambulance entrance. He jumped every time the sliding doors opened. Three ambulances had come, disgorged their patients and left. The fourth time was the charm. Alan stood to see the patient, and caught a glimpse of an unruly mass of brown curls. He stepped forward. "Charlie?"

The curls moved, the head lifted. "Dad?"

"Oh, Charlie!" Alan took a place alongside the gurney and kept pace with the paramedics. Charlie's bare chest was splattered with blood. His right upper arm was heavily bandaged, and there was an IV needle in his left hand.

The gurney was pushed into an examining room, and one of the paramedics took Alan's arm. "I'm sorry, Sir, you'll have to give us a few minutes to get him settled. Just wait right here, and I'll let you know when you can go in, okay?"

Alan nodded. "Thank you," he whispered. "That's my son."

The paramedic squeezed Alan's shoulder. "I know, Sir. You'll be able to be with him in just a minute."

Alan stepped back and watched the door close in front of him. His cell phone rang. He smiled when he glanced at the display. "Donnie. He arrived just this minute."

"How's he look?"

"Good. There's a lot of blood, but he was awake. They're going to let me stay with him once the paramedics get him settled."

"That's good. He looks okay?"

Alan smiled. "In my vast medical experience as the father of two active boys, I can say that your brother looks like he's going to be just fine. Now you just relax and don't worry."

Don snorted. "Yeah, and you do the same."

"Okay, so I've got unrealistic expectations. Did you at least eat your supper?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Donnie, you've got to keep up your strength. Eat that supper."

"It's cold."

Alan rolled his eyes. "Fine. Be stubborn. I'll call you when I know more."

A few minutes later, the paramedics came out of the room. The one who had spoken to Alan said, "You can go ahead in, Sir."

"Thank you," Alan said as he hurried through the door.

Charlie lay on an examining table, a light blanket pulled up to his shoulders. His eyes were squeezed shut.

"Charlie," Alan said, taking Charlie's good hand in his, and brushing the curls back from his forehead.

"Hey, Dad," Charlie said through gritted teeth. He opened his eyes and tried to smile. "Getting shot hurts like hell."

"So now you'll know not to do that again."

--

There was a quick knock, and the exam room door opened. "Well, gentlemen," Dr. Torre said, glancing up from the chart in his hand, "I didn't expect to see you again so soon." He held the door open for Andrea, who entered carrying a tray of tools, then pulled the door shut and approached Charlie. "Charlie, I'm going to have Andrea give you something to take the edge off the pain. I'm sorry I can't give you anything stronger, but I want to see the x-rays first and see if we need to do anything surgically."

"Surgically?" Charlie asked weakly. He watched as Andrea injected something into a port on his IV, then turned back to Dr. Torre. "Why surgery?"

"There's a good chance your humerus was damaged by the bullet. How long has it been since you've had anything to eat or drink?"

Charlie's brow furrowed in concentration, and he finally had to turn to Alan. "I don't remember. I haven't eaten since I left with Liz... I don't remember even eating breakfast."

Alan chuckled as Charlie's stomach growled. "I think it's safe so say Charlie hasn't had anything to eat for at least twelve hours."

"Good. If we do need to do surgery we can do it right away. Of course, the bad news is you aren't going to get anything by mouth until after we've made our decision. Andrea will take your vitals while we give the meds some time to work. Then we'll get you into a wheelchair and she'll take you down to radiology."

--

The woman had come back for Don's tray, and looked at the barely touched food. "Not hungry?"

Don shook his head. "No. Sorry."

"You hurtin'? You want me to call the nurse for you?"

Don smiled at her. "Thank you, but no. They just brought my little brother in by ambulance. I don't really feel like eating."

She patted his hand. "Listen, Honey, I'll be praying for you and your little brother. If you don't mind, that is. Some people get offended."

"I appreciate it. We could use all the help we can get."

"And when you find out he's gonna be fine and your appetite comes back, you just let the nurse know. They have plenty of stuff in the fridge for you folks. And you need to keep your strength up. That older gent who was here with you before – is that your Daddy?"

"Yes, it is."

"He'll have his hands full with the two of you, so don't you be letting yourself get sick again."

Don chuckled. "Yes, Ma'am."

"There! I got you feelin' better already. You sure you don't want any of this before I take it away? I can get it on the way back, or they can pick it up when they bring your breakfast."

He studied the tray when she lifted the lid. "That fruit cup looks pretty good," he said.

"Good!" she said, pushing the bedside table closer to him as he pressed the button to elevate the head of the bed. She glanced at the cold soft boiled egg and grimaced. "That egg looks just plain nasty, though. There's some nice chocolate pudding in the fridge."

"Thanks, I'll ask the nurse about it when I've finished this." He picked up the spoon and started in on the fruit salad. The woman patted his hand and turned to leave. "Ma'am? Thank you."

"Call me Rosie. And you're more than welcome, Son. We're all a team here, and our job is making sure our patients get the best possible care."

Don lifted his cup of apple juice in a toast. "You're doing a great job, Rosie!"

He had finished the fruit cup and was poking tentatively at the egg when the door opened again.

Liz hesitated in the doorway with David and Colby behind her. "Don?" she said, "I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay, Liz. You did the right thing. It was just a fluke – Charlie was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all."

Liz crossed the room and felt Don's forehead. "Hmm. No fever."

Don smiled and pushed her hand away. "How's Fred Agincourt doing? He was the one that was injured, right?"

"Right. He's in serious condition, but it looks like he's going to be okay. How's Charlie?"

"You didn't come here with him?"

"I stayed with Fred, and Colby took our shooter in."

"I haven't heard anything from Dad since Charlie got here. He said they were letting him stay with him and it looked like he was going to be okay." He picked up his cell phone and glanced at the display. "It's been a while. I should call Dad and see what's going on." He dialed Alan's number. "It's gone to voice mail. They probably made him turn it off."

"Listen," Colby said, "why don't I go down and see how he's doing? Liz and David can fill you in on what happened today. It's been a pretty eventful day."

--

Alan sat in the ER waiting room, staring at a magazine. Andrea had explained to him that it was pretty close quarters in radiology, and that he'd be better off waiting up here. It had sounded like a good idea at the time, but he kept glancing from his watch to the corridor where Andrea and Charlie had disappeared.

"Mr. Eppes?" Alan turned, startled, and saw Colby Granger approaching him. "How's Charlie doing?"

"They've taken him for x-rays. The doctor thinks he might need surgery. There might be bone chips or something in his arm that they have to clean up." He shrugged. "But he seems okay. They gave him something for the pain, and he seems to be feeling a little better."

"That's great news." Colby sat next to Alan, squeezing his shoulder. "I'm really sorry this had to happen. I think if Charlie hadn't reacted as quick as he did, the witness would be dead now. But we should have taken more precautions. You just let your guard down for a moment, and ..."

"It's okay, Colby. Charlie'll be fine. Have you been up to see Don yet? He must be going nuts wondering what's happening."

Colby grinned. "He is. Which is why I'm down here to see you right now. He tried calling you, but your cell phone was off."

Alan patted his pocket self-consciously. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I wanted to see Charlie anyway. I need to see for myself that he's okay, you know? I feel responsible. I should have seen the shooter sooner, reacted quicker."

"And I should have insisted Charlie stay here and not go with you. And Charlie should have gone to campus instead of coming here today. And..."

Colby held up his hands. "I get your point, Mr. Eppes."

"It's Alan! Why does everybody insist on calling me Mr. Eppes?"

"Mr. Eppes?" Andrea called from the corridor. "Look who's back!" Andrea and Charlie waved as she pushed the wheelchair back into the exam room.

Alan stood. "Come on. Let's go see what they found out."

As Alan and Colby entered the room, Andrea was helping Charlie out of the wheelchair. His face was pale and he leaned heavily against her.

"Charlie? Are you okay?"

"If anybody ever tells you x-rays don't hurt," he muttered as he sat on the edge of the bed, "don't believe 'em."

Andrea put her left hand behind Charlie's back, supporting him as he swung his legs onto the bed, and then eased him back. "There," she said. "Can I get you anything?"

Charlie shook his head. "No. I'm good, thanks."

"Dr. Torre will be back in a few minutes. You just get some rest, okay?"

After she left, Alan hurried to Charlie's side. "What happened?"

"They just had to keep moving my arm around so they could get the best images. Somebody should invent an x-ray that doesn't require torturing the patient. I could design an algorithm."

Colby chuckled. "If anybody could do it, you could."