Disclaimer: Standard still applies.
A/N: Well ... I can tell you right now that this story is longer than the previous. -chuckles- oh well.

Dr. Mina Flint put the scans up. "Well, Charlie." She started, "For some reason the bump showed up. I am not for sure why." Her voice was light and airy, "And I would like for you to come back in here for another check up in two days." She sighed and studied the photo. "When I felt for the bump a few moments ago - it was gone. So, you may go home. But you must be monitored and if something like this happens again, you must tell someone right away." She turned and faced her patient and his family, "Is that understood?"

Don nodded.

"Of course. We will take care of him." Alan voiced.

Charlie smiled. "I getta go hooome."

Don eyed the doctor, "Is this a joke?"

"I'm sorry Agent Eppes, is What a joke?"

Don pointed to Charlie who stared at Don's index finger. "You gave him drugs that made him high to get rid of his headache."

Mina grinned, "It was the easiest to use, best for him." She paused, "It should wear off in a few hours." She left the three of them so that they could collect everything and go home.

Charlie's grin fell as he looked around his hospital room.

"What's the matter, buddy?" Don asked, worried.

"My mind's all funny." His voice was high pitched.

Don raised his eyebrows, "Uh. That's because of the drug they gave you for the headache. I think. What do you mean, 'all funny'?"

Charlie pursed his mouth, thinking. "I dunno. Jus' is." He smiled, "But I getta go home now, right?"

"Yes, Charlie. We're going home now." Alan answered as they made their way out of the hospital.

"Good. I like home. It's all ... home-y n' stuff." Charlie answered, his eyes slightly glazed over from the drug.

Don and Alan shared a glance as they directed him to the car. Charlie got in the car happily and put on his set-belt. "These keep us safe incase of a crash!" Charlie informed them.

Don shook his head as his cell phone rang.

"PHONE!"

"Yes, I know Charlie." Don said as he grabbed his cell, "Eppes ... Oh hey. Yeah, sorry about that. Things have been a little hectic here."

Charlie leaned forward into Don's other ear, "Is it Naaancy?"

Don ignored his brother, "Yeah. Sure tha'd be fine."

"Naaaancy."

"Alright. Yeah. How about around 6? ... Good. Yeah. You too." Don hung up.

"Naaaaancy!"

Don turned to his brother, "Nancy says Hi."

"I knew it!" Charlie said smugly, setting back in his seat. "It was Nancy and Nancy it was."

Alan started the car, "And how is she?"

"Nancy is doing fine. She was just wondering what was going on because I hadn't called her in a while." Don said with a shrug.

"6." Charlie nodded, "What are you planning at 6?"

"I uh. I actually invited her over to eat dinner with us." Don paused, "I figured that would be fine with the two of you."

Alan nodded as he got on the freeway, "That is fine by me."

"I'm hungry."

Don sighed, "We'll be home soon and then you can eat something."

"Good. Coz I'm hungry."

"I know, Charlie. We'll be home soon." Don said, starting to get annoyed with his drugged up brother already.

Sure, it was nice seeing him so happy again - but this was ridiculous. Even when Charlie had the best day of his life he wasn't like this. Charlie was acting like ... an idiot. Don sighed and rubbed his forehead as Charlie started talking about who knows what. He felt the car come to a stop and he looked up to see the house in front of him.

Don and Alan got out of the car easily enough, but then Charlie was starting at the door of the car. "Donnie!" Don could hear his brother's voice through the glass. He turned and stared at his brother. "I can't seem to get th' door open." He smirked.

Don matched his brother's smirk as he opened the door casually - worried of what Charlie was planning. "Alright, Chuck. Come on out."

Charlie's face went limp. "Oh God. No!" He backed away from Don, to the other side of the car until his back was against that window. "No!" His face had paled about two shades and Don watched as sweat formed on Charlie's brow. He was starting to have trouble breathing.

Don climbed into the car, "Charlie. Buddy. Calm down right now. Breath, Buddy."

"Don't!" Charlie managed to say between gasps.

"Don't what?" Don asked, worried. "Don't what, Charlie?"

"Do that!" Charlie answered, high pitched.

"Do what, Charlie, you have to answer me so that I won't do it." Don tried his best to calm his brother.

"Don't, Donnie, please don't." He seemed to be sobbing. Don went to reach out to Charlie but when he touched Charlie on the shoulder, he had flinched back.

"Don't call me Chu..." Charlie swallowed, he couldn't even bring himself to say it. He curled himself up in a ball, trying to get rid of the sound of Tirry's voice. "Don't move, Chuck." "I will just have to gag you, Chuck" "Stay awake, now, Chuck!" Oh, God. Why couldn't he get that voice out of his head. "Chuck." He had to get it out. Make it stop. He reached his hand up in a fist, ready to hit his head, hoping that it would go away. But his fist had been stopped by a strong hand.

"Charlie. I'm sorry, Buddy." Don forced Charlie's hand down to his side, "It's alright now. I won't call you that ever again. I promise. Just come inside, buddy. Come out of the car with me."

Charlie thought about it for a length, then he nodded mutely, following Don out of the back seat of the car.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Don wasn't for sure why 'Chuck' had gotten Charlie into some sort of a panic attack, but he did have an idea.

"It's what he called me. All the time." Charlie whispered. He stopped walking, halfway to the house and he turned suddenly and started walking in that direction.

Once Don realized that Charlie wasn't with him anymore, he cursed and ran after Charlie, "What are you doing?"

"I need to go to the garage. I need it." Charlie answered, his fingers twitching.

Don noted the movement. "I thought you were hungry. You need to eat..."

Charlie shook his head mechanically, "No. I need ... I need numbers."

Don ran in front of Charlie and stood in his way. "No you don't. You will be fine without them for a few minutes. You need food and sleep." Don paused, "And you probably need to talk about this."

Charlie sighed, "You're probably right. I probably do need to talk about this, eat and sleep. But I can't. Not now." He quickly side-stepped Don and found his way into the garage.

Don sighed and decided he'd better go and tell his dad what had happened.

Charlie picked up the chalk and smiled as he felt it in his hand. This would help him. The numbers could embrace him and he could write out his pain. He decided to break down that number. He knew everything off the top of his head.

"Time to get started." He said to himself as he began writing 57. 64...

"Dad, you need to call Dr. Roland right now."

Alan stopped making lunch. "What? Where's Charlie?"

"In the garage." Don sighed, "I messed up."

"I'm sure you didn't ..."

"No, I did!" Don yelled angrily, "I just had to call him 'Chuck'."

Alan blinked, "But you've always teased him with that name. What happened?"

Don ran his hand through his hair, "It's what Tirry called him." Don whispered. Alan stared, processing this thought, "I didn't know that Tirry had called him that."

Alan made his way to the phone. "Alright. Dr. Roland was going to come by later today anyway - but I think he's needed now, right?"

Don nodded and stood up, "I'm going to watch over Charlie." Alan nodded in agreement as he started talking into the phone.

Don stepped towards the garage with a worried stride. He felt as if it was his fault. All of this right from the beginning. It was his fault for calling Charlie 'Chuck', it was his fault that he let Tirry kidnap him, and he felt as if it was his fault that he wasn't able to see that Charlie needed the medical help to begin with - which made Charlie go see a therapist name Dr. Tirry.

Don opened the door slowly and he stared at the writing on the board.

57.641592653589 is made up of 5 days, 2 Megan's at once, 1 for oil, 23 more slaps, 5 hallucinations, 1 seeing Don again, 1 for sharp, 1 for blunt, 1 broken nose, 2 slapped twice, 4 gallons of boiling water, 1 seeing Don, 2 hallucinations, 1 ice, 1 spider, 1 dry heaves, 1 stomp, 1 pencil, 1/2 of the bullets hit, 3.141592653589 brand

Don's stomach went cold. He knew that was not as detailed as Charlie would have liked it. Don knew that Charlie would have rather had counted for every cut he got during the sharp, every bruise and broken bone he got the blunt, for every amount of oil that went inside of him.

Don couldn't ever get Charlie to talk about what all had happened to him before - and he hadn't read the police report.

"I didn't take in all the information in that initial equation I did." Charlie answered in a hollow voice. He turned and faced Don. Don could see the dry tears on his brother's face. "I didn't add in how often he called me ... or the thoughts he put into my head, how often I ruined my piece of bread and glass of water, how the darkness effected me, or-"

"Buddy." Don cut in, he was taken aback by how much his voice wavered on the edge of tears. He cleared his throat, "Buddy you don't need to break it down like that."

"Yes I do, Don. It helps." His arms went around his waist. "It helps. It helps. It helps." He kept repeating it, going quieter and quieter.