The Disclaimer Continues. Ad Infinitum.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Chapter 10

The next morning found Charlie disconnected from his IV, and brought so many visits from so many different doctors, therapists and nurses that there wasn't much time for anything else. Especially since Charlie promptly fell asleep anytime he was left alone for five minutes.

The afternoon saw an odd parade make its way down the hospital corridor, destination sunroom. Don and Larry flanked Charlie, who crutched an awkward, leaning, slow hop. Alan followed behind, the three trying to form a protective triangle around Charlie. He tried to clench his left armpit and use those muscles to swing forward the left crutch, as he has been shown that morning. The fingers of his casted left arm hooked benignly around the handgrip of the crutch, providing only alignment. It was not a quick or easy process, and he didn't see how it ever would be.

He bumped lightly into Don on one hop, and the agent looked ahead and tried to gauge how much farther they had to go. "How ya doin' there, Chuck? Need to stop for a while?"

"Shut up," Charlie hissed, trying to use his armpit to point everything farther toward the left side of the hallway. "This is hard."

Don looked at him and smiled at the determination on his face. Yeah, they were hopping all the way on this, he could tell. Charlie had that look. He wanted to see more of it, suddenly. "I'm just saying. One of us could get the chair."

Charlie was breathing hard. "I. Said." Clench, aim, swing, plant. "Shut." Hop. Damn. Forgot the right side. "Up."

Don's smile broadened. He liked Charlie. He was glad to see Charlie. He glanced back and saw his father smiling, too.

Trust Larry to ruin everything. "Charles, I want to apologize for my insensitivity in adding to your workload. I should not assume you are always free to help me."

They had finally reached the sunroom, and Charlie had his eyes on a group of chairs near the window. He grunted in response to Larry, but that was all. It was fifteen more hops before the group reached the bank of chairs, and as Don helped Charlie lower to one, he felt his brother tremble. He leaned close to his ear for a moment. "You okay?", he asked, quietly. Charlie flashed him a quick glance full of naked gratitude that almost knocked Don over backwards, then nodded.

Don was still wondering about that look when Larry took up the dialogue again. Couldn't he give the guy five minutes in the sun, first? "I was horrified when Dr. Sorenson told me what your meeting was about."

Charlie grunted again, but he had caught his breath a little by now, and followed with a few words. "Yeah. Dr. Simpson said you said he said what he said." He grinned a little loopily when he heard how inane that sounded, then shrugged. "You know what I mean."

Don was a little surprised when Alan took it further. "You still don't remember the meeting, or how it made you feel?"

Charlie shook his head, then volunteered something that surprised Don even more. "I can tell you how it makes me feel now, though."

Don tried to relax. Apparently, he was the only one uncomfortable with this conversation.

"How?", questioned Alan.

Charlie looked grimly out the window. "Sad. A little angry. I'm one of the frontrunners in the field of mathematics. I average five offers a year from other universities, ten from think tanks…I'll admit, for a few months there I wasn't pursuing anything on my own. But I've been working on Cognitive Emergence for over a year, and I already have too much data for a journal article. I've been thinking for some time now that this research will result in my next book. That kind of serious study, data compilation, writing — it can't be rushed. And I should have earned a little trust, at least, from CalSci by now."

"I wonder if you told Sorenson all that," Don heard himself say. "I hope so. It's all true."

"Absolutely," agreed Larry. "Again, I apologize for making it more difficult for you to have time for your own research."

Charlie sighed a little, still looking out the window. "I enjoy helping you, Larry. I wouldn't want you to go to someone else. I'm capable of telling you when it's too much." He shifted a little in the chair and added something, rapidly. "I don't think I need any kind of therapy. Besides physical, I mean. All this happened because I wasn't taking care of myself, and I know how dangerous that is, now."

Don exchanged a glance with Alan over Charlie's head. "Buddy…you said some stuff, on the roof. And last night. Don't you think your reaction was a little…extreme?"

Charlie remembered crying himself to sleep in his father's arms, and he reddened. He was embarrassed, but he tried to make it look like righteous anger. "No, I don't. I'm not an FBI agent, Don, when I learn I almost killed someone — my own brother, no less — I hope that always upsets me."

Don knew Charlie was trying to distract him by pushing a button, but he bristled anyway. "FBI agents don't like killing people either, Charlie. That was unnecessary."

He felt his brother slump beside him. "I'm sorry," Charlie said quietly. "You're right. I can't even fight fair."

Don looked at him and saw that the sadness was back, a black cloud hanging over Charlie and pressing down on him so hard he almost couldn't breathe. He wasn't even looking out the window, anymore, but at the floor. Charlie was all over the place since they'd been allowed to spend time with him, and it was a little hard to keep up. Every time he let himself think the real Charlie was back, this other, dejected, miserable guy showed up and pushed his way in. Don's heart hurt at the unhappiness on Charlie's face, and he draped an arm around the thin shoulders. "It'll be all right, Charlie," he assured him, hoping it was true. "You know we'll do whatever we can."

Charlie stiffened a little. "I'm just tired. Don't treat me like this, please. Like a…shattered glass, or something. Please. I'm not crazy. I'm just tired."

God, he sounded so young, so vulnerable, so lost. Don gave him a final squeeze and brought his arm away. He bumped shoulders with Charlie lightly. "It's okay to rest, Charlie. Sometimes, we all need to rest."