Don woke the next morning feeling something dampening his shirt. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times to clear the fog from sleep. He looked down and saw his little brother's face resting against his chest. Though his eyes were closed, as if in sleep, tears spilled down his face.

"Charlie? Buddy, you awake?" Don asked, feeling a moment of deep concern for his brother. When he got no response, he assumed Charlie was asleep.

Don turned to the side to read Charlie's digital clock. He knew he had to get up, considering it was 6:30. He just hoped that Charlie would let him.

Don lightly slipped out of Charlie's bed. Charlie groaned as his head hit the mattress. Seeing that his brother was still asleep, Don pulled his little brother up so that Charlie's head was once again on the pillow.

Don proceeded to get ready, using Charlie's shower. He was thankful that he still had a nice outfit here, knowing he couldn't wear yesterday's outfit again. When he got out of the shower, Charlie was still asleep where Don had left him. Charlie was crying more now and Don noticed the methodical way he seemed to search the bed beside him with his hands. Feeling his heart go out to his little brother, he sat down on the bed.

"I have to go now, Buddy," Don said as he reached out to take one of Charlie's hands. Charlie seemed to recognize the touch.

"Don," he mumbled quietly.

"I have to go." Don took his hand away and Charlie cried out in protest, still asleep. Once again, he searched for his brother.

"I'll be back later, okay?" Don reached out and brushed at Charlie's curls with his hand. Charlie seemed to calm under the touch. Don continued the movement until his little brother seemed calmer. Once calmed, he left Charlie's room.

Alan had been watching the stairs repeatedly for one or both of his sons to come down. He knew Don had to get to work, so he wasn't surprised when he saw him come down alone.

"How is he?" Alan asked before Don was even down the steps.

"Okay, I guess... for now, at least. Dad, um, would you mind staying with him? I-I really don't want him to wake up alone."

"Sure, sure. You want some breakfast? I can make you something if you like."

"No, I need to get to work. Just... take care of Charlie, okay?"

"Don't I always?"

Don smiled as he stood in front of his father. "Yeah, Dad. You do."

Alan took his oldest son in his arms. "You worry too much."

"I know. I'll see you later, okay? Doesn't Charlie have a checkup today with Dr. Smith?"

"Yeah. I hope he can make it."

"I hope so, too. Let me know how it goes."

"I will."

"All right. I'll see you later, Pop." Don headed out the door as Alan gave him a slight wave.

He was about to go get a cup of coffee to bring with him to Charlie's room when the phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Hello, Mr. Eppes. This is Larry Fleindhart. I was calling to check on Charles. I was quite concerned when I found out that he'd be taking such an extended period of time off. I hope it's nothing serious."

Alan sighed. "Yes. I'm afraid it is serious, Larry. He, um, he was hit with a baseball bat." Alan paused at Larry's sharp intake of breath. "And it left him blinded."

"Oh, my lord."

"Thankfully, he has been improving with his vision. The doctors are hopeful that he will make a full recovery and will get his vision back completely."

Larry breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, we can all be thankful for that. May I come visit him some time?"

"Of course, Larry. You're one of his closest friends, but, uh... now isn't a really good time. He's having a lot of problems. I'd wait a while."

"That's perfectly understandable. Shall I pass along the news to Amita?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay. Send him my best wishes."

"I will, Larry. Thank you for calling."

"Bye."

"Good bye."

Alan hung up the phone and returned to making himself a cup of coffee. He took it and the newspaper up to Charlie's room. He sat down on the bed beside Charlie. He hadn't been there long when he felt his son grab his arm, surprising him.

Alan looked down and saw Charlie was still asleep. Charlie moaned slightly and slid closer to Alan, who couldn't help but smile down at his youngest son. He wrapped his arm around his son's shoulder, rubbing circles on his son's upper arm.

Almost an hour later, Charlie began to wake. Alan noticed when his son began to stir. Charlie let go of his arm and turned to lay on his back. Alan watched his son until he was frightened to find tears coming down his son's face.

"Charlie? Charlie, are you all right?" he asked as he turned toward his son more.

Charlie opened sad eyes to his father. Alan could see how unfocused they were, how they never truly locked on to him. Charlie must have recognized the fact that he was next to him because he closed his eyes once more.

"Dad," he croaked.

"I'm right here, son."

Charlie turned his head on the pillow so that his left cheek couldn't be seen against the pillow.

"Why is this happening to me?" he whispered with his eyes still closed.

"Oh, my boy. This wasn't your fault. You didn't deserve this. It was just an accident. This isn't your punishment for something you did wrong."

"It's because I didn't spend enough time with Mom, isn't it?"

Alan felt his eyes fill with tears also at his son's words. As much as he'd disapproved of the three months Charlie spent away from his mother, Alan now understood why. And knowing that his wife did, too, he was able to easily forgive his son. It was obvious that Charlie hadn't forgiven himself, though.

Alan pressed his hand against Charlie's cheek. Charlie leaned into his father's hand heavily.

"No. No, son. That's not it at all. These things just... happen. You weren't chosen because of something you couldn't help. Besides, your mother never, ever blamed you. She understood... and so do I now."

Charlie lay quietly as he kept his face pressed against Alan's hand. Alan brushed at Charlie's eyelids lightly with his thumb, feeling his son's damp eyelashes and cheek. Moments later, Charlie opened his eyes again.

"I can't stand this, Dad. I hate it so... so much."

"Oh, Charlie." Alan quickly brought Charlie into his arms. He held onto his son tightly, wanting to absorb the pain his son was feeling, though still knowing he could not. He swayed back and forth on the bed, not knowing it was the same thing Don had done with Charlie the night before. They both did it by the same example. Only, Alan found that only Margaret could do it to the point of taking away any pain.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Don had trouble keeping his mind off his brother throughout the day. Megan, ever observant, was the only one to notice his mind was elsewhere today.

"Don? You okay?" she asked as she stood in the doorway of his office.

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine, Megan."

"Something's definitely bothering you, though. What's up?" She took a seat, though not granted permission to come inside, and waited for Don to spill.

"It's... it's nothing. Just, Charlie had a rough night last night."

"Well, that's to be expected, isn't it?"

"It was the worst I'd seen it. He seemed to be doing fine the whole time until last night. It just seemed to... hit him, you know? I don't know. Maybe it was just a one-time thing. Maybe he's okay," Don mused out loud.

"Well, Charlie can't really be considered 'okay.' He's visually impaired. You can't expect that to be easy on him."

"I don't. That's how he made it look. He just seemed to take it in stride. He was pretty bored, but his vision didn't seem to bother him at all."

"He could have been covering his emotions, which you do so well."

"Too personal, Reeves."

"This is a personal conversation, sir." Megan raised an eyebrow.

Don couldn't help but smile, though it didn't look too professional. He got too close to his team members, though you couldn't come so close to death together and not become close. It was a pretty natural thing. It was only wrong when they took that closeness and used it against you. Like Megan, no matter how much good she intended.

"It's okay, Don. I understand. Just, try to think on it like this: even if he's not showing you something, it doesn't mean it's not there." With that, she stood to leave.

Don shook his head. She always knew how to leave with an end note that got you thinking. He hoped that he would still be able to see what Charlie wasn't showing.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlie requested some time alone before he'd have to go to the hospital for his checkup. Alan finally reluctantly left him alone. He needed time to clear his mind and to get a grip on his emotions that seemed to be running wild.

He couldn't quite explain what had happened. It was as though a dam had broken inside him, spilling his emotions from his body. He didn't want to come across as the cry baby he looked like. It was just... hard, maybe harder than he had let himself believe it to be. He didn't like it. He hated being so limited on independency. He couldn't stand not being able to read or get on his laptop. His mail was probably overflowing with messages. He'd have to have Don or Alan look through them for him. It would be awkward having his family get into the private area of his life. Somehow Charlie would just have to learn to live with it and hope that nothing too personal would be seen.

Charlie decided he was prepared enough to go to the doctor's office. He noticed the worried glances his father kept passing his way in the car, felt Alan's frightened gaze on his back when he wanted to go back alone.

The checkup went well as far as Charlie could tell.

"So how are you dealing with this emotionally? I've already talked to one of our hospital's psychiatrists if you'd like to set up an appointment with him," Dr. Smith surprised him by saying.

"Psychiatrist? I don't need a psychiatrist."

Dr. Smith smiled warmly. "Charlie, no one expects you to be okay with this. It wouldn't look weak if you chose to seek psychiatric help."

"I-I wouldn't see that as being weak. I honestly believe I don't need help... Are we done here?"

"Of course. You may go. I'll see you in a few days."

"Fine." Charlie stood and walked quickly to the door. However, he hadn't seen a chair in his path and he stumbled over it.

Dr. Smith caught his arm, but Charlie quickly pulled out of his grip.

"I can do this on my own."

"How silly of me. What would make me think you need help? You're only 75 percent blind."

Charlie did not appreciate the doctor's sarcasm. He stomped out of the room and went to find his father. Alan stood as soon as he saw Charlie come in. He reached out to take his son's arm, but Charlie wouldn't let him help.

"I'm fine, Dad," he barked.

So Alan walked on, though still lingering cautiously close. Even so, he wasn't prepared when Charlie ran into the doorway of the exit, hitting the left side of his face.

"Damn it," Charlie cursed as he placed a hand over the injured area.

"Are you all right?" Alan removed the hand from Charlie's face.

"Ow," he protested.

"Let me look." Already a goose egg was breaking out on Charlie's forehead.

"We should probably let Dr. Smith look at that while we're here."

"No! It's fine. I just want to go home. Please."

Seeing the desperation in his son's eyes, Alan consented. He walked closer to Charlie to make sure no further injury came to him.

Charlie went back up to his room when they got home after Alan gave him an ice pack for his head. He said that he was tired from the day's events. Once he was upstairs, Alan called Dr. Smith since the only thing Charlie would tell him was he was coming along as best he could.

"Dr. Smith? This is Alan Eppes."

"Hello, Mr. Eppes. I just saw Charlie. I assume he had a ride home?"

"Yes. I was his ride, in fact. I was wondering what you could tell me about my son's progress. I'm afraid my son was more than a little vague."

"Well, his vision is still gradually improving. His progress is still normal, as well as can be expected."

"No setbacks?"

"None that I can see." There was something about the doctor's tone that sent up warning signs to Alan. Dr. Smith was leaving something out. Alan was sure of it.

"Doctor, I believe there is something you're not telling me."

Dr. Smith sighed. "I am not at liberty to discuss that with you."

"I'm his father! I have a right to know about my son!"

"Not when doctor-patient confidentiality is enforced. I'm sorry, Mr. Eppes, but if you want answers you'll have to get them from your son. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to work."

"Fine. Good day, Dr. Smith."

"Good-bye."

Alan next gave Don a quick phone call to explain Charlie was still progressing well. Don felt immediate relief at the news and promised to come over again that night after he picked up some necessities from his apartment. Alan was glad he left out the suspicion that there was something else wrong with Charlie, or at least something he wasn't telling them. He would not put that fear on Don, even though Alan knew his oldest son had a knack for getting the truth out of his little brother. Alan still couldn't use that. He'd have to protect Don from the truth and hope, in time, that he would get the truth out of Charlie.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlie woke up with a hiss as he felt someone touch the tender bump on his forehead.

"Gosh, Buddy, that looks awful," he heard his brother say.

Turning to lay on his back, he looked up at Don.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"Hey." Don smiled. "How'd your appointment go?"

"Damn doctor doesn't know what he's talking about." Charlie turned on his side again.

"What makes you say that?" Don sat down on the edge of the bed.

"He said I need a psychiatrist."

Don wasn't sure how to respond to that. Honestly, he had thought the same thing. But it was apparent that Charlie didn't agree.

"What would it hurt?"

"It would hurt my wallet, for one. I don't need a psychiatrist to tell me what I already know. I'm fine by myself."

"If money is an issue, I'll pay for it."

"No, Don! I don't need a psychiatrist! You know I can afford it fine by myself. Money is never the issue here. I just don't want to have to go talk to some idiot who just sits there and listens while I talk about my 'feelings.' I don't need that. I can work on that on my own."

Charlie turned on his left side, wincing as his head hit the pillow. He just didn't want to be facing his brother because tears of anger were starting to form and he had cried enough already.

"Buddy, I didn't mean to upset you." Don laid a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Dad just wanted me to come up to tell you it's time to eat, if you want any."

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you sure? I could bring something up if you don't want to get up."

"I'm fine."

Don nodded and stood. "Okay, Buddy."

He walked out the door, feeling more worried about Charlie than when he'd come in.

Why is it so hot? Every where I feel it. I can hardly see in front of me, but I know I'm surrounded by fire. I take a cautious step forward and feel the flame burn my skin. I jump out of the way, only to get burned on the other side. I don't dare move on when I finally feel the fire stop burning me. I rub the tender flesh that has been burned as it throbs with pain. How am I going to get out of this one?

"Charlie! Help!" I hear Don's voice calling me. I turn my head all around, trying to see where my brother is. Knowing I cannot, I have to just trust in his voice and follow the sound of it.

I take another step forward and feel the fire burn me. I walk quickly, hoping that I can keep from getting burned so badly this way.

"Charlie! Oh, God, help! It hurts! Oh, it hurts!" Don's cries because more anguished and pained. Charlie feels a moment of panic and feels his adrenaline rush, making him move faster.

He gets to the area that would make sense for Don to be. But Don must be moving. He hears his brother's voice call for him again, only it's in the opposite direction.

"Help! Help! I'm going to die! Charlie, anyone, help!"

"I'm coming Don!" he screams, hoping to reassure his brother, though he is starting to believe he'll never make it to his brother in time.

He moves faster and faster, crying as his flesh is scorched. As he seems to be in the right place to find Don, the cries from his brother stops. Fearing he's too late, he moves in a circle, frantically searching, but barely seeing anything.

Then, suddenly, Don appears before him, looking almost ghostlike. His brother's body is red, burned everywhere. If he wasn't so close to his brother, he probably wouldn't have recognized him.

"You were too late."

"What? No! I'm here."

"You're too late. I'm already dead."

"No! No! No!" Charlie screams.

Waking up in a sweat with tears running down his face, Charlie sat up quickly and screamed, "Don!" until it seemed to echo off the walls.

Knowing he must reach his brother, Charlie quickly got out of bed and rushed for the door. He tripped over a shoe that was in the middle of the floor, hitting the floor hard. Not taking time to stop and wallow in his pain, he pushed himself up and hurtled himself out the door.

Don, who had heard his brother scream his name, had been rushing up the stairs when Charlie ran full force outside his room. Don caught him at the top of the steps.

"Hey, whoa, whoa." Don stopped his brother, who was still trying to run.

Hearing his brother's voice, Charlie stopped struggling. He sank a little in his brother's hold.

"I-I couldn't... couldn't find you."

"I'm right here," Don said, wondering what his brother meant.

"I was too late. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, hey, hey. You're okay. I'm fine. I'm right here."

Don tilted Charlie's chin up so he could meet his gaze. But, looking at Charlie's eyes, Don could tell his brother wasn't focusing on him at all. Charlie quickly closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Don tightly.

"I couldn't get to you."

"Sh. It's okay."

"I couldn't, couldn't see to find you."

"I'm fine."

"You were dead. It was all... all my fault."

Don looked over his shoulder to his father, who was standing still on the steps. Alan just smiled reassuringly, knowing his oldest son was unsure as to what to do.

Don gently guided Charlie back to his bed, which wasn't hard considering his little brother had latched himself onto him. He laid him lightly on the bed, but his little brother continued to hang onto him.

"Sh, you need to get some more sleep now, okay?"

"No! Please, don't make me go to sleep! I don't... I don't want to have to go through that again. Please, don't make me," Charlie said in a panic.

"Okay, okay."

Alan came in and sat on the other side of Charlie. The three Eppes men stayed in the room as Charlie whimpered and clutched to his older brother's arm. Don figured that his little brother had had some sort of nightmare about him. It was always hard for him dealing with a nightmare about Charlie getting injured while working with him.

Alan moved his hand across Charlie's hair soothingly. Charlie didn't seem to notice. He just kept seeking his reassurance that his brother was alive and okay, no thanks to him. He closed his eyes and pressed his face against Don's forearm. He didn't care anymore. He let the tears fall freely; let the sobs shake his body. He knew his family would be there to comfort him if he needed it. His dream had just seemed so real and that scared him. What if something like that happened? Would he be able to find his brother in time?