Chapter 13

"This was stupid. We should have sent him in the other ambulance."

"He refused treatment. Besides, he looked halfway with it at the time. Don't worry about it, we're almost there."

"Sir, are you all right? What was his name? Charlie? Charlie, can you hear me?"

Charlie fought his way back with an effort. The faces of the medics swam into focus, and he realized he was still in the ambulance. They were staring at him intently; one of them supporting him by the arm, and Charlie straightened and looked back, trying to appear in control. "I'm fine," he said automatically, and it came out as a whisper. The fact was, he didn't know. Was he fine? Was he not? He must have blanked out, he mused, almost abstractly. It was becoming such an effort to think, to move, to stay awake. He had to though, for Don. Don could do none of those things right now.

He looked down at his brother, and realized that he was holding his hand. At some point his brother had acquired an oxygen mask and a cervical collar, and Charlie searched his memory. Did Don have those when he got into the ambulance? Charlie couldn't remember, and he frowned, touching the collar lightly, confused. The medic caught his expression. "Just a precaution," he said. "Standard procedure for head injuries."

Charlie stared at what he could see of Don's pale face, his heart constricting as he saw that his brother's eyes were closed. He had been conscious just a few moments ago. 'It was a few minutes, right? How long did I blank out?' Charlie wondered. "Donnie?" he said tentatively, and was relieved to see his brother's eyes flutter open. "Are you okay?"

Stupid question, Charlie thought as soon as he said it, but Don tried to respond; something muffled came from the oxygen mask. At least Don understood him.

Charlie gripped his brother's hand tighter. "It's going to be okay," he said in a voice tinged with desperation, as Don's eyes closed again. Charlie needed him to be okay, to be whole again, and he willed him to open his eyes with every fiber in his being. He stared hard, until his vision blurred at the edges, and Don's face was the only thing in focus – the only thing that mattered. 'Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay, please-,'

The ambulance jerked to a stop, and Charlie was jolted into the real world again. The jolt aroused Don, too; his eyes opened slightly, and he groaned. Charlie's stomach twisted at the groan, and he barely heard the medic asking him to step out. He stood, bent over on shaky legs as the ambulance door opened, fighting dizziness, and nearly fell out of the back, saved by the strong arm of the medic who had opened the door. Someone rolled a wheelchair up to him, and tried to guide him into it, but he pushed them impatiently away, staggering to the side of Don's gurney, grabbing hold for support as it moved toward the door.

He felt a hand take his arm, but since it wasn't pulling him away from Don, he left it there, and the hand followed him in, in with Don. Don was in, in where? Where were they? Don was moving so fast in his bed, had to hurry, there were lights, hurry, a hallway and doors. They pushed through the doors and he was in a spinning room, spinning with Don. He seized the side of the Don's bed and pulled hard, trying to stop the whirling. He felt hands grabbing him and he fought back, trying to push them away, as the whirlpool pulled him under.

999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

Megan, David and Colby arrived a few moments later. They had swung off the road into the hotel parking lot when they reached it, and Colby jumped into his truck, knowing they would need another vehicle. Edgerton stopped in the parking lot for a moment for a quick powwow with Peters, but Megan and David, in Don's SUV, headed straight for the hospital, Colby right behind them. Parking in the emergency lot, they ran for the entrance, and burst in through the doors.

One of the medics recognized them and steered them toward an exam room. As they pushed through the door, they saw Charlie, oblivious to the world, his chest cleaned and in the process of being stitched. His clothes had been removed, and his lower body was covered by a sheet down to the knees. The dark circles around his toes and ankles stood out, ugly under the florescent lights. He was hooked to a monitor that was registering his pulse and blood pressure, and was surrounded by nurses, interns and a doctor, who looked up as they approached.

The doctor eyed them suspiciously and spoke without introduction. "Who are you?"

Megan reached into her jacket as he spoke, and pulled out her badge. "Agent Reeves, FBI. This is Agent Granger and Agent Sinclair. We're with Dr. Eppes, and his brother, Agent Don Eppes."

The doctor looked down at Charlie, working the needle. "What in the hell happened to him?"

"Dr. Eppes was with us in Los Padres on a case. He was attacked. The wounds in his chest are knife wounds."

One of the interns looked up, wide eyed. "Attacked by the serial killer?" They all looked up at that; everyone in the area had heard about the killings in the park. At Colby's grim nod, they looked back down at their patient, subdued; staring at the marks on his chest and feet.

The doctor continued to stitch, glancing at his interns impatiently. "Is one of you going to get working on that arm, or are you just going to stand there?"

Megan frowned, looking at Charlie's inert form. The only sign he was alive was the monitor that he was hooked to, which flashed out heart rate and blood pressure readings. She remembered how he had refused to let them look at his injuries. "Did you need to sedate him?"

The doctor snorted. "Hardly. The idiot ambulance techs let him walk in here on his own. He came in staggering with his brother's gurney, and almost took a nose dive in the examining room. He's been out ever since. He stirred a little when we numbed him, but went right back out. He didn't have a head injury that you know of?"

"Actually he did," said Colby. "It was a couple of days ago, though, and he's been up and walking around since then."

The doctor pursed his lips and spoke to one of the interns. "Let's get a scan ordered."

"Where is Agent Eppes?" asked David.

"Next door, in two. They're examining him now. Hand me a new suture pack." He pulled the curved needle from the pack that the nurse opened, and bent down over Charlie's chest.

Megan paused. "What about Charlie – Dr. Eppes?"

"Other than the wounds, he's suffering from dehydration and extreme exhaustion."

'And a boatload of post traumatic stress,' thought Megan.

"There was obviously some blood loss. I'm not sure yet whether or not he'll need a transfusion – we're getting a count now. I'm guessing not. Is there a family member present?"

"Their father is on the way."

"Have him come down here and sign for them, and pick up their personal effects when he gets here. Thanks."

They looked at each other, realizing that they had been dismissed. Colby shrugged, and they headed out into the hall, looking for Room 2. Megan paused once more at the door and stole a glance at Charlie, hoping fervently that he didn't wake up while they were working on him. She watched for just a moment, then followed Colby and David into the exam room next door.

"… and this is Agent Reeves," Colby said to the doctor as Megan walked in. She could see that Don's eyes were open, and she stepped forward past Colby and David and sidled closer to his bedside.

The doctor was stitching the gash in Don's side, and eyed Megan from across the bed, but didn't shoo her away, so she stepped a little closer and addressed him. "Can I talk to him?"

The doctor nodded. He was trying to determine the extent of the head injury, and he needed to judge the patient's responsiveness. "Go ahead."

Megan stepped closer and caught Don's eye. "Hey Don," she said softly. "You okay?"

Don's face was lined with pain, and he was breathing heavily, trying to control it. His voice was rough. "Think so," he gasped. "Leg hurts. Head - " He paused, searching for words. "Hurts." He grimaced and shut his eyes tight as another wave of pain coursed through his head, and Megan winced in sympathy.

The doctor spoke to Don. "We'll try to get you something for the pain, but we need to determine the extent of your head injury first." He looked up at Megan as he finished the sutures. "I'm going to send him down for X-rays and a CT scan. We'll bring him back here when we're done for an assessment, but it's my guess that they'll admit him. Someone told me there's a family member here – his brother? Maybe we can get him to sign some papers for us."

"That might be hard," said Colby. "He's next door, being worked on himself."

"Oh." The doctor looked taken aback.

"Their father is on the way," said Megan.

"Right," said the doctor, gathering himself. "We'll talk about it when he gets here." He motioned to an orderly. "Let's get him down to Radiology."

99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

Charlie didn't wake up until he was in his room, and then it was a struggle. Except for pain from the cuts in his left arm and chest, he felt comfortable and warm, and his body was so heavy. His mind prodded him awake, however, there was something urgent pushing at his memory, and he fought back the sleep that pulled him under. Don. Groggy, he looked around, trying to get his bearings, his heart beating faster. His head turned sideways, and with the view came immediate relief. Don was in the bed across from him.

"Donnie?" His brother was silent, his eyes closed.

He stared for a moment, his heart sinking as snatches of memory came back to him. Don wasn't responding, and the realization brought fear with it. He stared at his brother across the room, wishing he was closer. The gap between the beds stretched like an impassible void.

99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

Alan had made it to the hospital in a little bit under two hours, sure that he had broken a land speed record on some stretches of the highway. He had gotten tied up in traffic in L.A., and as soon as he broke free of it, he floored it, trying to make up time. He was hurrying down the hall with Megan toward his sons' room.

"Don has a moderate concussion," Megan was saying. "He's been in and out since they brought him here, mostly awake, but he's pretty groggy, and he'll drift out once in a while. His lower left leg is broken near the ankle– the smaller bone – the fibula– they said it's fractured but not displaced. He has a gash in his side that they had to stitch." They passed the nurses' station, and a nurse fell in behind them, walking the same direction.

"And Charlie?"

Megan paused and glanced at him. "Charlie needed some stitches, and the doctor said he's suffering from exhaustion and dehydration. I'm sure he'll fill you in on the details."

They had almost reached the room. "Stitches from what?" asked Alan. "What happened to them? Was it an accident?"

Megan didn't reply. "Here's their room."

They stepped in, and her first reaction was shock as she realized that the bed on the far side of the room, Charlie's, was empty. Swinging her gaze to Don, she realized that Charlie was sitting in a chair on the other side of Don's bed, with his IV stand next to him. His right arm was flung over his brother, and his upper body rested on the bed. He was fast asleep.

Alan stopped dead for a moment, and his heart contracted at the sight. The nurse had followed them in and bustled around them, uttering an exclamation as she saw Charlie, and she headed toward him.

"Dr. Eppes, you aren't supposed to be out of bed," she clucked with consternation.

Charlie lifted his head, dazed, and his eyes fell on his father. He stared at Alan sadly, and whispered, "He won't wake up." As if to contradict him, Don stirred suddenly and groaned, his eyes flickering open. Charlie jerked his head around and jumped to his feet, too quickly, and swayed as dizziness hit him. "Don," he said; emotion in his voice, as he grabbed the bedrail for support.

Don squinted, trying to focus. "Charlie?" His dad's face swam into view over Charlie's shoulder. "Dad," he said thickly. The pain was a little more tolerable, but organized thought was still eluding him, and he had an overwhelming urge to sleep. He stared, trying to will his eyelids open, but they drifted shut again.

"Don," said Charlie urgently. "Wake up." He was swaying badly and starting to shake, and the nurse grabbed his arm.

"Dr. Eppes, you need to get back in bed." She pulled Charlie gently away.

Alan stepped forward, and instinctively put his hands out to help as the nurse coaxed Charlie toward his bed. He took in the bandaged wrist, the bruise on his son's face, and felt the thinness of his shoulders under the hospital gown, frowning in confusion as he looked down and caught the gauze bandages on his son's ankles and feet. Together they guided him to his bed and helped him swing his legs up and lie back. The hospital gown slipped off his shoulder, and Alan was shocked to see bandages on his chest. His mouth opened in surprise, but he shut it again as Charlie looked up at him, his eyes strangely unfocused; and filled with pain.

Alan's heart caught, and he laid a gentle hand on his son's head. "Charlie, baby, just rest now. Don will be okay. I'm here." Charlie stared at him dazedly for a few seconds; then slowly closed his eyes. Alan stood for a moment, making sure he was out, and then turned to Don. His older son was lying perfectly still; his eyes were shut, but the pain in his face indicated that he was still conscious. That was small consolation however; neither of his sons was operating with all of his faculties intact. Alan looked from one of them to the other, apprehension rising in him as the reality of their conditions sunk in.

He looked up at Megan, and she saw confusion, fear and anger in his face, as he spoke. "What in the hell happened to my sons?"

She stepped forward and took his arm, steering him toward the door. "Come on," she said gently. "Let's go out here, and I'll tell you."

Alan stood still, resisting her arm. "I'd rather not leave them."

Megan glanced meaningfully at Charlie. He didn't need to relive the trauma by hearing this, she thought. "I think it's best if we talk outside. It won't take long."

Alan caught her look, and stared at her, discomforted. 'What on earth happened?' he wondered with growing dread. He glanced back at Charlie, and seeing that his son's eyes were still closed, nodded reluctantly. "Okay," Alan said quietly, and followed her out into the hallway, completely unprepared for what he was about to hear.

-------------------------End Chapter 13------------------------------------------------------