A/N: Yeah, Alan's up at bat. I do love the Eppes men.

Chapter 26

As he exited back into the hallway, Charlie saw Alan stand abruptly, crumpling a paper cup in his fist and tossing it at the silver trash receptacle nearby.

"So - he awake?"

"Um - like the nurse said - in and out." Charlie grabbed at his sleeve as he brushed past.

"Dad - "

Alan paused. "Well?" he pressed impatiently when Charlie seemed at a loss as to how to continue. His face changed. "Is everything all right? Something you're not telling me?"

"No, no - I just - " Charlie stammered to a stop, a little embarrassed. "Look, you're not going to - "

"Going to…?" Alan prompted. "See my son? Yes, that was the plan."

"I mean - you're not going to - you know - yell or anything, are you?"

Alan stared at him. "What!?"

"Just - Don is a little worried - you know - that you might - yell - "

"Yell?" Alan's voice rose. "Oh, this is wonderful. First I get a call that both my sons are being rushed to the hospital -"

"Dad - " Charlie interjected.

"- then I'm told my older son is practically being put back together with Superglue - "

"Dad - " Charlie repeated, more forcefully.

"THEN," Alan continued unabated, "I find out BOTH my sons expect me to walk into his hospital room and start yelling! Why on earth would I yell - ?!"

"DAD!" Charlie raised his voice to carry over Alan's. More quietly, he continued, "You're yelling right now."

Alan opened his mouth, then closed it with a snap. "Well, can you blame me?" he continued more calmly. "Why don't one of you have a child for yourselves before you try to tell me how to parent? Where do you get these ideas?"

"It's just - " Charlie insisted patiently, pulling him a little ways away from the door, "in - situations like these, you tend to - well - yell."

Alan frowned. "I do not."

Charlie looked apologetic. "Yeah, Dad. You do."

"I - " Alan fell silent, thinking. "I do?"

Charlie shrugged. "You want some quotes?"

"No." Alan made a face. "No thanks. I'll - take your word." He glanced down at his sleeve. "You can let go of me, Charlie - I promise you can trust me alone with your brother."

Charlie snatched his hand back. "I - I know that. Just - "

"No yelling - I promise." Alan's voice had a slight sarcastic tinge. "Go - find your doctor. See if you can go home."

Charlie watched him shoulder his way through the swinging door, half-tempted to follow, then turned away instead. Naw. Then there would definitely be yelling. He spotted Colby coming down the hall from another room, carrying a clipboard. Oh, yeah. Soames. Another head injury, probably. He remembered Megan and David's asides and studied Colby surreptitiously, but he didn't seem disheveled in any way. He smiled when he saw Charlie.

"How you doing, Charlie?"

Charlie bobbed his head. "I'm - working on it, I guess. How's Soames?"

Colby gave a grunt of disgust. "He'll live."

"Um - you didn't - I mean, Megan and David said - "

Colby looked perplexed, then he gave a short laugh. "Aw, no - they were just being cute. I just questioned him. Besides, you don't need to do much with those bully types - they're all the same. Just a little pressure and he cried like a girl."

Charlie actually found himself smiling.

"Say - David told me what you did." Colby bumped Charlie's fist lightly with his own. "Impressive, man."

Charlie crunched his brows together, not sure Colby wasn't making fun of him, but his expression seemed sincere enough. He remembered the trembling gun barrel and his sweat drenched palms. "It wasn't impressive." He forced a tight-lipped smile. "Believe me."

"No?" Colby's brows lifted. "Going in there with a weapon you don't know and a situation you don't have any intel on without any experience to back you up?" He gave a short whistle. "Takes some stones."

Charlie just looked at him. He hadn't thought of it that way, but Colby seemed honestly congratulatory and a small glow of warmth filled his stomach. Not sure what to say, he shrugged.

"How's the come down? Rough? That's always the worst part."

Charlie found himself nodding. "Yeah. I feel so - I don't even know what to call it."

Colby nodded. "You know what really helps?" Charlie waited. "Shots." Colby smiled. "I like Wild Turkey myself, but everybody has a favorite. Megan and David and me are going out for a round tonight - " A shadow crossed his face, and for a second, he looked as sad and troubled and conflicted as Charlie felt. "After this one, we could use a little come down, too. Anyway - you're welcome, if you want. It really helps."

Charlie was surprised at how touched he was. He couldn't actually remember the last time he had done shots, but - "Thanks. I - just might take you up on that."

"Great." Colby gave him a slap on the back that staggered him. "We'll be at Jherri's - I'll let you know what time when we're done mopping up. Bring cab fare, just in case."

Charlie watched him leave, still twirling the ID bracelet absently.

Yeah, it was going to be a rocky road.

He smiled. But, on the bright side, it looked like he wouldn't be walking it alone.

000

Alan's first impulse was to rush directly to the bed, but he stopped short, suddenly unaccountably shy.

Yell, they said. Yell indeed. What kind of a father did they think he was…?

Don's head was turned away from the door, allowing him a view of a bulging pad of gauze. He tried to identify it from Dr. Hannigan's injury lecture, but the details all seemed to run together in a hazy blur of information. Don was very still. Maybe he was asleep. Charlie had said that he was in and out.

He circled to the other side of the bed. He'd just have a look, reassure himself that everything was all right - maybe sit for a minute.

"You gonna…land?"

Alan started in surprise at the voice, faint though it was. "I thought you were asleep."

"Who could sleep…with all that…yelling…?"

"That was not yelling," Alan admonished, trying to sound stern. "Your brother and I were just having a - spirited discussion." Don's eyes remained closed, but the ghost of a grin around his mouth made Alan smile. He noticed that tubing from the nasal cannula had come loose and reached over to gently tuck it back behind his ear. Better than a respirator, he reassured himself. Much better. "What happened to your eye?"

Don made a face, still without opening his eyes. "Slugged."

"Big bandage."

"Big fist."

"How about this?" Alan ran a finger delicately over the white gauze encircling one wrist. Even though the bandaging on the left wrist merged into heavier bandaging of the left hand, it was still uncomfortably reminiscent of the coverings for slashed wrists. He shivered involuntarily.

This time Don's lashes flickered and he could almost watch him measuring his words, weighing and discarding one option after another, flipping through 'Don's Big Book of Euphemisms', as he privately called it.

"…restraints…" Don offered at last.

Alan shut his eyes for a minute, struggling to control a catch in his breath. "I see." There was an image he didn't care to dwell on. Anxious to change the subject, he said, "You look a little cold. Can I get you another blanket?"

"…thanks…" Don's eyes were still closed and Alan studied what he could see of his face with slight amusement as he pulled a blanket from the top of the small wardrobe. "How far out of it are you?"

Don's lips moved silently, then he sighed. "…man…"

"That's what I thought." Alan shook the blanket out and spread it over him. He tugged at the haphazardly rumpled hospital gown, tied in front to allow easy access to Don's ribs. "Of course, it would help if this were - " He pulled the covers back first and reached to thoroughly close the gown, froze, his stomach suddenly twisting up into his throat. Oh, God. He swallowed, once, then again; then, when he was certain he wasn't going to need to make a dash for the sink after all, he closed the hospital gown with careful hands, drawing the covers all the way up over Don's sling and smoothing the second blanket over them.

Like a three year old, he mocked himself. If I can't see it, then it's not there. Out loud, he said, "How's that, better?"

"Mm…"

"I should bring you some warm pajamas," Alan continued, chatting to cover his shaken composure. For heaven's sake, the doctor told you about the damage…you knew. It's just that…seeing it is different. Seeing it on your child is…indescribable. "Do you even have such a thing? I could swing by your apartment and get them for you."

"No!" Don's eye shot open, his voice hoarse with the effort at volume. He made an abortive move to sit up, paled and stopped abruptly with a gulp and Alan's pressure on his shoulder.

"Sssh…" Alan soothed. "What, you think I don't already know you're a lousy housekeeper?"

The eye blinked at him, owlish and alarmed. "…crime scene…" he pointed out anxiously. "…can't - "

"Well, maybe I'll buy you a pair then." Alan patted his shoulder again, because now the one eye was wide and fixed on him. "You need something that buttons up the front anyway for this. I suppose I'd need to cut one sleeve out for your sling, too."

The eye blinked, calmer now. "Don't…plan to be here…that long."

"Uh huh." Alan perched on the side of the bed. "Well, forgive me, but right now you don't look like a man ready to leap up and walk out of here."

The eye dropped to half-mast. "Just…tired…"

"Courtesy of three rounds with a baseball bat, from what I understand."

"…yeah…" The eyelid sank a little further. "…not…the first time…hit…with a baseball bat…"

"True, but the other time you were wearing a batting helmet."

Don tried to shift, seemed to give it up as too much work. "…if I had…any warning…would have worn my helmet. He was just…out of nowhere…"

Alan placed a hand on his forehead and ran a thumb gently over the bandage there. He'd think about that one later, too. Much, much later. "Sudden, hm?"

"…Mm…" The eye was almost closed, but it blinked and pulled half-open again at that. "I was thinking…maybe…Charlie should…call before he comes over…"

Alan grunted. "Or maybe you can do an apartment sweep before every visit. Or keep a few agents at the door."

Don frowned. "…serious…" he objected.

"I know." Alan sighed. "Donnie, do you really think that would work? Besides…" he sighed again, more heavily. So much for his youthful fantasies of making the world a better place. "As much as I - hate to admit it - the truth is, these things happen. And not just to FBI Agents, or you wouldn't even be needed - your job wouldn't exist. The fact is, the world is a dangerous place, and sometimes terrible things happen. Even to innocent people. In a way, we're better off than most - at least you have training and carry a big gun. Most people are left defenseless." Somewhere, the Californians for Peace were NOT smiling at him. The eye was fixed on him again, as if trying to read him. "No one is going to ask your brother to stay away from you and your apartment," he continued firmly. "Including you. We just have to - live our lives, I guess, and hope for the best. Besides, death and dangers come in all sorts of forms that none of us can control. We both have reason to know that."

Don's expression didn't change, but Alan thought some of the pain lines eased around his mouth. The eye slid shut again. "…how is Chuck…do you think? Really?"

Alan hesitated. "He's - finding his way. It'll take time. It's a lot to sort through." He stopped the movement with his thumb and patted Don's head lightly. "I'm guessing that he'll eventually want to talk with you. In the meantime, he's taking his new role as protector very seriously. Even wants to protect you from me."

Don blinked, then managed a perplexed grin, wincing at the pull on his bruised cheekbone. "…kidding…"

"Oh, no," Alan assured him, looking both amused and bemused. "He has definitely taken it to heart. I thought he was going to insist on accompanying me in here." He turned his mouth down at the sound of Don's stuttered chuckle. "It is not funny."

Don tried to shift his sling to cushion the punishment to his heaving ribs. "..oh…man…ouch…ouch…yeah…SO…is…"

Alan struggled to keep his disapproving frown from turning into a smile. "You know, I was taught to respect my father. I don't know where I went wrong with you and Charlie."

Don lay gasping for breath, but he was smiling. "…must…get it from…Mom."

"Hmph. Now that you mention it. She was very irreverent. Take deep breaths, now. Heaven only knows what Charlie will say to me if he comes back and you're not up to snuff."

That threatened to set Don off again, but he settled for smiling tiredly. "…how bout…you? You okay…?"

Alan leaned back against the headboard, letting his hand stay at rest on Don's hair. "Well, you boys always did know how to get my heart moving. Why should now be any different?"

Don stirred as if he intended to answer, but instead Alan only heard a soft exhalation of breath. He looked down questioningly, then smiled. Out like the proverbial light. He should get up - let him have the whole bed back so he could sleep comfortably. But somehow or another, he was still sitting there.

He missed Margaret, he realized, missed her right this minute - missed being able to share both the terror and the relief with her, wondered what she'd have to say about Charlie's adventure, about the way their boys were looking out for each other, what she'd say about the men they'd raised. Then suddenly he knew exactly what she'd say.

To hell with the Californians for Peace. They had made the world a better place, in their own way. He glanced down at Don's dark head and smiled.

In two ways, to be exact.

TBC