Disclaimer: Standard still applies.
A/N: -blinks- Poor Charlie.
Review people. Key thing to do.

Don watched Charlie play on the living room floor happily. What the hell did Tirry do to Charlie to make him act like this? Don hated seeing Charlie act like a child. It wasn't right. He sighed and stood up.

Charlie stopped playing and stared up at Don with huge eyes full of fear, "Donnie?"

"Don't worry, Buddy. I'm just going to check on something. Then I'll be right back."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Don forced a smile as he went into the kitchen to check in on their dad.

Alan was sitting at the table, staring off into space.

"Hey, Dad?"

Alan looked up, "Oh, Donnie." he smiled, "How is Charlie doing?"

Don shrugged, "Same as before. When is Dr. Roland getting here? What did he say over the phone?"

"He'll be here shortly. He didn't really say anything other than that he'd be here soon." Alan sighed, and rubbed his face with his hand, "You'd better go back and stay with Charlie. Who knows what will happen next."

Don nodded, understanding. He left his dad in the kitchen and made his way back to his brother.

Don stopped in his tracks when he saw Charlie. He had his shirt off, and he had taken some of his bandages off of himself, showing his chest. Charlie had a tight hold onto Archie who he was taking a sharpie to.

"3.141592653589793238462643383279502884197169399375 is Pi." Charlie told his bear as he drew on Archie. "You're just like me now." He said, when he was finished drawing a Pi symbol on the bear's chest. "Now you understand, Archie. You always understood."

Don didn't know whether to cry or yell.

He stared at Charlie for a moment before he decided on the latter. He rushed up and grabbed the sharpie from his brother's hands. "Charlie." He scolded his brother, "You shouldn't have taken your bandages off! You should never take them off! Do you know how much harm you could have caused yourself?!" Don glared at his brother, panting from the yelling.

Charlie on the other hand did not like the yelling at all. He was just showing Archie what had happened? Why did Don have to start yelling at him? It wasn't his fault. Right? He could feel the tears flow easily from his eyes, he could feel himself shutter when Don was yelling. He looked up at Don's face, afraid of what he'd find.

Don's face softened and he grabbed Charlie gently, not wanting to hurt him. He hugged his brother and started rocking him. "Oh, God. Charlie, Buddy ... I'm so sorry. Forgive me, please. I didn't mean to yell at you. Remember how I seem to have anger problems? That's why they sent me to a program? Remember?"

Charlie nodded into Don's shoulder. He remembered. But Don scared him. Why did he scare him. "Mad?"

"No. Buddy, I'm not mad. I was for a moment, but I'm not mad anymore."

Charlie swallowed, "Hate?"

"No. No. No. I don't hate you. I love you. Got that? I'm sorry that I yelled at you. Do you forgive me?"

Charlie nodded again.

"Alright." Don stopped hugging his brother, "Let's get you bandaged again." He smiled at Charlie and Charlie's face lit up.

Soon Charlie had his bandage across his chest again, his shirt on, Archie in the fold of his elbow, and he was leaning on Don.

"Buddy?"

"Donnie?"

"Earlier when you were talking to Archie, you said that he always understood. What does that mean?"

"Archie is special. Like me. Mommy said I was special." He sniffed once, "Donnie, I miss Mommy."

"I miss her too, Buddy." Don answered, running his hands through Charlie's curls.

The doorbell rang and Charlie sat up as quickly as his injuries let him. "I wanna get th' door!" He smiled as he got up. He slowly opened it, "Hallo!" He waved.

Dr. Harry Roland stared at his patient. Then he looked at the stuffed toy bear in his arms. "Hello, Charlie. May I come in?"

"Yes." Charlie said, going back to the couch where Don sat.

Roland looked around the room as Alan walked into the living room. He was surprised at all the toys that were laying on the floor. He had heard some of what had happened over the phone, but he hadn't known the full extent of it, until now.

"Dr. Roland." Alan said, clearing off a chair, "Come, sit."

Roland did as Alan asked and he watched Charlie whisper something to Don.

Don smiled sadly and tickled Charlie who giggled in return.

"Charlie?" Roland asked.

Charlie's head shot to his doctor. His eyes wide in fear, "Am I in trouble for makin' th' mess? 'Coz I'll clean it up."

Roland shook his head, "No. You're not in trouble."

Charlie smiled, hugging onto the bear, "Good."

"Want to tell me about the bear?" Roland asked.

Charlie looked down, "This is Archimedes. Better known as Archie." He held up the bear triumphantly, "He saved me once." His tone somber, but yet child-like. He suddenly hugged the bear, "'N Archie will save me again." He pointed to the chest of the bear, "See? He's helping."

Roland looked at the pi symbol drawn on the chest. "I see." He paused, "What do you mean by "He saved me once"? What happened?"

Don was wondering the same thing. He didn't know what had happened. He remembered when Charlie had suddenly started obsessing over the toy bear. Charlie was around 5 years old. And out of nowhere he just suddenly always had that bear with him.

Charlie backed into the couch as far as he could, "I-I d-don't wanna t-talk about it-t."

"Why not?"

Charlie looked down at the floor, "It's scary." His voice was full of emotions. Raw fear.

Alan had known some of the reason why Charlie had suddenly clung to the bear. But he hadn't know the full extent. Margaret had handled the situation.

Roland got an idea, "Charlie. You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want. But can I see Archie? Can I talk to him?"

Charlie giggled and handed the toy to the doctor.

Dr. Roland smiled at the bear, "Hello Archie. Can I have a good look at you?"

Don understood what Roland's idea was. Charlie had remade one of his wounds on the bear, maybe there was a different wound on the bear. A wound that would have been put on the bear when Charlie was 5...

"Hm. Archie? What happened to your arm? You have a cut on it."

Charlie whimpered at the doctor talked, clutching his un-cast arm.

This movement did not go unnoticed by Don nor Alan.

"How did you get that cut, Archie?"

"A-Archie doesn't w-want to talk t-to you right n-now." Charlie said, grabbing for his bear and clutching it.

Dr. Roland bent down, facing Charlie, "Do you remember how we talked about hypnosis?" Charlie nodded, "Would you mind if we did that right now?"

Charlie thought about it, "It won't hurt, will it?"

Roland smiled and shook his head, "No. I promise, it won't hurt. It'll be fun. Like a game."

Charlie blinked, he looked up at Don who gave Charlie a nod of his head. He turned back to his doctor, "Can Donnie hold my hand?"

"Of course."

"Alright. I guess." His voice was hesitant.

"Good." Roland stood up, "Now, Charlie. I need you to lay down on the couch. You can lay your head on Don's lap if you want." Charlie did as he was told. "Alright, I want you to look at the wall ... see that family picture of you all? You look like you were about 5 in that picture. I see you are holding onto Archie. I want you to look at that picture and listen to my voice. When I count to five you will be alseep. One. Two. Three. Four. Five."

Charlie's eyes were closed and he waited patiently.

"Charlie?"

"Yes?"

"Good. You hear me." Roland said simply, "Now. I'm going to ask you some questions. How did Archie get the cut on his arm?"

"I put it there."

"Why?"

"So that he would understand."

"Understand what, Charlie?"

"Me." Charlie's voice was frail.

"What happened to you? I'd like you to tell me." Roland kept his voice smooth and even.

Charlie's face scrunched up in fear, he shook his head slightly, "I don't want to remember." He whispered.

"Please, Charlie. I need to know. You can pretend like it's a story from the book or a movie. But you're the main character."

Some tears escaped Charlie's closed eyes. "Do I have to use me?"

"Of course not. The main character can be Bob. Tell me Bob's story."

Charlie nodded slowly in his sleep, "Bob was special. Every one said so. Bob was so special that he got special teachers. Bob's teachers would sometimes go to Bob's house. Or Bob went to theirs with his Mommy. But Bob's least favorite teacher was at a facility where Bob had to go sometimes."

"Why does Bob not like this teacher?"

"I don't want to tell Bob's story anymore ..." Charlie pleaded. "I'm scared."

"It's okay. Nothing can hurt you, Charlie. Tell me the rest of Bob's story."

Charlie took a breath, "Bob's teacher was mean. He made sure that Bob never got a question wrong." Charlie's voice rose, he was talking faster, "If Bob got a question wrong the teacher would hit me and it hurt. It always hurt. I had to get the answers right or he'd hit me. Mommy and Daddy never knew. They never knew that he hit me." His voice got tight and he started shaking, remembering, "I pleaded Mommy to keep him away from me. But she couldn't do anything. Nothing. She gave me Archie, saying that he would help protect me. Help carry the weight of the questions. But Mommy didn't know that the weight was so painful. She didn't. I was doing so well. I was getting all the answers right. Never get hit. Never. Never. Never." Don had to hold onto Charlie to keep him from falling off the couch. "But Mommy found out after I got the answer wrong. Mommy knows. She tried to fix the cut on Archie. I made her stop. She had to. If it was fixed then Archie wasn't helping carry the weight. I told her. She looked mad. Mommy can't be mad. No. Mommy can't be mad at me. I'm sorry I got the answer wrong. I tried. I tried. I did. Mommy grabbed my sleeve and pulled it up. She found the cut that he had made. Mommy knew. Mommy knew that I was stupid and didn't answer the question right."

"Charlie," Dr. Roland said, more pressed, "What did the teacher do to you? How did he cut your arm?"

"My glass. I had a glass of water. If I got an answer wrong, water got taken away. If I got an answer wrong I got hurt. I had been doing so good. So good. Then I messed up. I was stupid. Never get an answer wrong. It's wrong. I can't get a wrong answer. I get it wrong and I pay. He threw the glass on the floor. I watched the glass break in cleavage, not fracture. He yelled at me. I tried to tell him the right answer. Changing it. But no. Always wrong. I am stupid. I can't get it right." Tears flowed freely from his closed eyes, squirming under Don's grip. "He came at me, with the glass. I tried my best. I did. I did. I tried. But it was wrong. Never give the wrong answer."

Dr. Roland was satisfied with the information he found out. "Charlie. When I count to five you will be awake."

"Wrong. Never. Never."

"One."

"Hurt. No. No. No. Mommy found out."

"Two."

"Stupid. Stupid. I'm stupid."

"Three."

"Always answer it correctly."

"Four."

"Archie understood. He always understood. Always."

"Five."

Charlie's breath calmed, his moving stopped. He opened his eyes and blinked.

Don stared into those eyes. Wide with fear. Don now understood why Charlie had always checked his answers so many times. He couldn't get them wrong. He had paid as a child for getting the answers wrong. He hugged Charlie tightly. He hadn't know that Charlie had gone through that. "Oh, God. Buddy."

Charlie returned the hug. He hadn't wanted them to know. But they knew. They knew what he had gone through, why he would not let Archie go. He knew what he had told them. He knew what story they had asked for.

He struggled out of Don's embrace and clung to Archie.

Just to be hugged again from Alan. Alan was crying for his son. He had no idea what had happened. Margaret hadn't told him the whole story. Just that Charlie was never going to that facility again. She said that Charlie didn't like one of his teachers. She left it at that. He remembered that after that she always interviewed his teachers before leaving them alone. He let go of his son and smiled at him, running his finger's though Charlie's hair. "It's alright, son."

Dr. Roland smiled at Charlie, "You did very good." He just found out some key element into Charlie's mind. He now knew something that Charlie had kept secret. He understood his patient much better. This information would help.

Charlie nodded slowly. "Thanks." His voice still like a child's.

Roland stood up, "How about we play this game again, tomorrow? Hm?"

Charlie looked at his family, then back to the doctor, "I-I guess."

Roland smiled, "Now, I'm going to have to talk to your Daddy and Donnie. Will you be alright in here, by yourself?"

"Yes." Charlie smiled, "I'm a big boy."

"I know you are." Roland walked into the other room as Don and Alan followed. He turned to them, "Hopefully Charlie will either break from this "child mode" by tomorrow, or I will have to work with him after our session." He sighed, "I'm going to hypnotize him again tomorrow. But we will find out some of what Tirry did to him. Hopefully that will bring him back to acting like his regular age if he hasn't gotten out of it by then."

Alan nodded, understanding that Roland didn't want to push his son too far, "So, how should we treat him?"

Roland sighed, "I think you should treat him like how he acts. If he keeps acting like a child, treat him as such. This may make him snap back to acting his real age. But be careful. He is fragile right now."

Alan nodded, "Alright. We can take care of him then."

"But if something should arise ..."

"Call you." Alan nodded. "Alright."

"I'm going to say bye to Charlie and be on my way." Roland nodded to the two and walked into the other room. "Charlie?"

Charlie looked up from his toy cars.

"I'll see you tomorrow. You be a good boy for your Daddy and Donnie, alright?"

"Alright." Charlie smiled up, moving a curl from his face.

"Bye, Charlie." Roland waved as he left the house.

"Buh-bye." Charlie went back to his toy cars. "Vroooom. Errch."