This chapter's title comes from the song "Dance Dance" by Fall Out Boy. The previous chapter's title came from "When You Say Nothing At All" by Alison Krauss. The one before that came from a poem I wrote.

Charlie couldn't stand the boredom he felt. He'd found that sleeping helped pass the time, but even that got old fast. It was his second day home and he was already bored. He wasn't supposed to read, watch tv, or get on his computer. None of those things would have been real easy for him with his limited vision anyway, but anything to help pass the time would have been an improvement.

His father had insisted he stay in bed yesterday. Charlie hadn't minded since he was tired anyway and he knew his father enjoyed getting to help him in any way possible. Now, though, he wanted to move. He hadn't been downstairs since he'd arrived home. He hoped a change in scenery would be better.

"Dad! Dad!" Charlie called his father. He called again a moment later when there was no response. When his calls still went unanswered, Charlie gave up and stood from his bed. He ventured to the door of his room cautiously, only stubbing his toe on the bedpost. He walked outside his room and to the top of the stairs. He felt a moment of fear, wondering if he dared to go down them alone.

Alan was casually walking by the bottom of the stairs when he noticed his youngest son standing at the top. Feeling a moment of panic, he stopped in his tracks.

"Charlie! Stay right where you are!" Alan flew up the steps, taking them two at a time.

"Hi, Dad," Charlie said when his father made it to the top.

Alan huffed a sigh, out of breath from his rush up the stairs. "What do you think you're doing up? You should have called me if you wanted to come downstairs."

"I did. You never came."

"Still! That's no excuse for you to get up and try to go down the steps by yourself. Don't you know how dangerous it is?"

"I'm fine, Dad. I wasn't even sure I was going to go down."

"Well, I would hope you'd have enough sense not to."

Getting that out of his system, Alan took a deep breath.

"So, where to?"

"I was thinking the living room."

"The living room it is then."

Alan took hold of his son's arm and the two slowly made their way down the steps. When they made it to the living room, Alan turned off the tv.

"Dad, what do you think I can actually do to pass time down here?" Charlie asked his father.

"I don't know. I'm sure you'll think of something, though." He moved to the window and shut the curtains so the sun wouldn't shine through.

Alan was wrong. By lunch time, Charlie had gotten on his last nerve. Charlie couldn't find any way to entertain himself. So he tried breaking the rules by getting on his computer for "just a minute." Luckily, Alan had heard as the computer turned on before Charlie could do anything. Then Charlie tried getting up and walking around for a few minutes. If his bruised elbow was any indication, it didn't work out too well. Having broken two rules already, he spent the rest of the time calling for his father and making him talk to him a while, when Alan wanted to get some work done. Charlie went back upstairs after lunch and stuck with sleeping. He was relieved when his brother came over later for supper. Having not seen his brother since early the day before, Don went straight to his brother upon arrival.

"Hey, Buddy!" Don greeted his younger brother as he stepped through the door. Charlie was sitting up in bed, working numbers in his head to pass time. He was glad to have a better distraction.

"Hey, Don," Charlie said quietly as he struggled to watch Don come closer. He noticed his brother was carrying a bag and he wondered about the contents. Charlie was thankful that Don sat on his right side.

"What's in the bag?" he asked when Don chose to just grin at him like a fool.

"I was hoping you'd ask that." Don took the bag and dumped the contents onto Charlie's lap.

"We have a deck of cards," he held it up for Charlie to see, "a bouncy ball for you to toss against the ceiling until it gets on Dad's nerves." Don stopped when Charlie laughed. "Also, I brought you a notebook and a few pens. And, my personal favorite." Don took out a bell and rang it, earning another laugh from Charlie.

"Oh, yeah. That's my favorite, too. I'm sure Dad will love it."

Don chuckled. "I'm sure he will."

"So what's new?"

"In the past 24 hours? Not much. Everyone at the office is asking about you. Megan thinks I'm lying to her when I say you're okay. She won't believe it until she sees you for herself, so you'll have to come in some time or I'll bring her over."

"Sure." Charlie nodded.

Don took a good look at his younger brother, hoping to catch some sign of how he was really feeling.

"You okay?"

"Me? I'm fine.""

"You sure? It must have been hard being cooped up all day." He fought to draw an answer from his little brother.

"I think I got on Dad's last nerve, but, other than that, it's been pretty uneventful. I'm okay with that, though."

Charlie looked at Don closely, as his brother had looked at him a moment before, looking for signs of self abuse.

"How, um, how are you? Have you forgiven yourself?"

Don paused before answering, taking a moment to think about his answer. He scooted closer to his brother on the bed.

"I...I have, I guess. Knowing that your vision should come back fully makes me feel a lot better, but, Charlie...I don't think I'll ever truly get over it. I saw you hurt...badly. And then I got the news that you may never see again. That... that's something I could never forgive myself for, and I wouldn't have blamed you if you wouldn't either." Seeing the protest on his brother's face, Don held up a hand to silence him. This needed to be said.

"I know you say it wasn't my fault, but it was. As soon as I saw Melissa Thomas' body, I should have assumed that her killer was still around. I didn't think. I should have sent Colby or David to question her. I wasn't even on duty. You should never have been there that day. This should never have happened. If it wasn't for me, it wouldn't. And for that... I'm sorry."

Charlie swallowed the emotions that clogged his throat. He believed Don had stopped beating himself up over his injury. But the fact that he still couldn't see out of his left eye - and may never - scared him. What if Don knew? It would kill him. That's why he couldn't tell Don the truth.

"It's okay, Don. Really," Charlie answered hoarsely.

Don leaned into his brother until his forehead rested on Charlie's.

"I'm sorry," Don repeated.

Charlie wrapped his arms around his older brother, this time being the one to give comfort. Don sank into his brother's arms, shaking as he fought for control.

Alan walked in then. He stopped, though, when he saw his sons embracing. He heard Charlie say, "I forgive you" to Don and it made Alan smile. He leaned against the doorframe. When his sons moved out of the embrace and took notice of him, he stepped closer and sat on the edge of Charlie's bed beside Don.

"Are you finally forgiving yourself?" Alan asked Don, assuming that was what the conversation had been about.

"Yeah, Dad," he replied to his father.

"Good." Alan took hold of Don's head and brought it down to his face as he kissed his oldest son's forehead.

"You're too hard on yourself." Alan ruffled Don's hair.

"Yeah, I hate that about him," Charlie put in.

"Whoa, there, Buddy. I already have one on my case. I don't need you gangin' up on me, too." Don laughed.

"Come on. Supper's ready." Alan stood and headed for the door, knowing Don would take care of Charlie, as always.

Charlie took hold of Don's arm once he stood. Don led him outside his room. Charlie put full trust in his brother. He knew he could always count on Don to protect him.

The next day went slowly again for Charlie. He worked on the deck of cards, playing solitaire a few times and worked out the sums off all the cards together. It was too easy for him, even when he used multiplication instead. So he tossed the bouncy ball up and down. It didn't last long, though, when he overthrew it and it bounced to the floor. He couldn't see well enough to find it, so he sat, bored, on his bed. He had slept past breakfast and had already eaten lunch. He figured it was about time to move around, so he rang the bell.

When Alan never came, Charlie stood. He walked to his personal bathroom, bumping into something three times along the way. He washed his hands and rinsed his face. Leaving the bathroom, he headed toward his window. He looked out. His vision hadn't improved much since he'd gotten home and it frustrated him. He saw a car pass by. "Something I can't do right now," Charlie thought to himself bitterly. Someone else mowed their lawn a few houses down, yet another thing he couldn't do by himself.

It struck him hard how limited his independence was. He wasn't supposed to walk around by himself even to prevent hurting himself. Charlie hadn't been fully dependent on anyone for many years. Once given independence, he ran with it. Now, though, he wasn't allowed to move outside his room alone.

Feeling frustrated, he leaned against the wall, and then slumped down onto the floor. He rested his head against the bedpost as tears fell freely down his face. He hated his situation. He hated not being able to see clearly. He hated having to depend on his father or brother for simple tasks. He hated not telling Don about his left eye. He hated he'd never got to spend the time with his older brother. Now, what good would he be?

Charlie sat in misery on the floor, allowing the tears to take him away.

Don came over early to keep his brother company. He found his father out trimming the bushes when he arrived.

"Hey, Dad!" Don called as he walked up to him.

"Oh, hi, Donnie."

"Is Charlie in his room?"

"Yes. I don't know what all you gave him - besides that damn bell - but it must be entertaining. I've barely heard a word out of him, contrary to yesterday."

Don smiled. "That's great. I'm going to head up to see him."

"Okay. You boys have fun."

Don jogged up the steps happily. He felt better after yesterday's conversation with Charlie. He knew his brother would be okay and that helped him stop beating himself up over getting Charlie hurt in the first place.

Don's thought was proven wrong when he opened the door to Charlie's room and found his little brother crying on the floor. Little did Don know, Charlie had been sitting there for over thirty minutes.

"Charlie!" Don rushed to his little brother. He sank onto the floor in front of Charlie, scanning for any visible injuries. Don assumed it was an inner turmoil that was causing so much pain, pain that showed clearly on Charlie's face.

Charlie took no notice of Don, having his eyes closed and sorrow ringing in his ears. He couldn't breathe as he was drowning in his own misery. Don noticed the change in breathing and he grabbed his little brother's hand in comfort.

"Charlie, look at me. Look at me!" Don ordered.

Charlie faintly heard his brother's voice above the cries of anguish. He looked forward and could make out Don's face through the blur of tears. He reached out gingerly and touched his brother's face.

"D-Don," Charlie whispered weakly.

"I'm right here, Buddy. I'm not going anywhere."

Don was relieved to hear his brother's voice. He didn't know what was wrong, but he hoped he could help.

Charlie felt as though someone was pushing him down into pain. It was the only explanation for why that was all he felt that he could think of. He'd been fine before, hadn't he? What had changed? His earlier frustration returned and Charlie groaned at the remembrance.

"Charlie?" Don questioned after hearing the noise.

Charlie broke free of the agony a moment to look to his brother once more. He found Don's worried gaze on him.

"Not your fault," Charlie whispered before choking on a sob.

"Buddy, what's wrong?"

"My life."

Charlie drew up his knees to his chest and hugged his legs tightly against him. He rocked back and forth, fighting demons in his head that told him he'd never see again and that he'd be useless because of it. Charlie believed what the demons said, though he tried not to. He was oblivious to how this was scaring his brother.

Don acted as his warrior. He broke through the demons and got to Charlie. All it took was a tight squeeze to the shoulder and the comforting words, "you'll be okay."

Charlie blinked against the tears so he could focus on looking at Don.

"Buddy? You okay?" Obviously, he was not.

"Don." Charlie reached out to his brother.

"Don." The words felt right on his tongue. It held protection, reassurance, love.

Charlie felt the floor leave the bottom of his feet and for a moment he felt weightless. He felt softness beneath him then warmth spread across his body. He shifted a little as what he lay on sank as someone else joined him. He felt an arm go around him. He knew that arm, recognized it as his brother's. Charlie moved close to the body next to him and laid his head on his brother's shoulder.

Closing his eyes, he surrendered to peace.

Don watched his brother worriedly. He wasn't sure what was wrong, but he didn't want to leave his brother alone, even when Charlie fell
asleep. Alan walked in soon after. Seeing Don's worried expression, Alan feared something was wrong.

"What is it?" he asked.

Don shrugged. "I don't know. I came in here and he was on the floor crying. He never gave me a real response. Half the time I wasn't sure he knew I was there or who I was."

"How strange." Alan frowned. What could have bothered Charlie so much?

Don spent the night by Charlie's side. Alan even brought him his supper up there. Charlie never woke up, though he gave a few whimpers. Don worried about him, wondering what had caused so much pain.

Around midnight, Don got up to get another pillow, knowing he'd spend the night there with Charlie. He stopped, though, when he heard a loud, high-pitched whimper come from Charlie. Charlie reached out to where Don had just lain as he whimpered like a young puppy without his mother. He tangled the sheets, frantically searching for Don with his eyes still closed.

Don moved back toward the bed and sat down. Charlie found his hand and he held on tightly.

"Don't leave! Stay... please," Charlie begged.

"Okay," Don replied as he got back in bed.

"Don't leave me," Charlie's words sounded light and sleepy.

"I'm here."

"Don't leave." Charlie clutched to Don's arm.

"Sh." Don brushed at Charlie's hair soothingly until Charlie fell asleep once more.

Don wondered if he'd be able to leave in the morning for work.