The morning of Bart's fourth day in the hospital dawned with heavy rain falling. Thunder eventually started to rumble, and each time it did, it grew louder as the storm came closer.

"That's the last thing he needs," Bret remarked, not liking the notion of Bart being startled awake by the noise.

"Maybe we should wake him up before the storm does," said Beau.

Bret nodded, seeing the sense in it. He felt his brother's pulse and couldn't stop his sigh of relief when there were no more lengthy pauses. His heart's rhythm was still stuttery and throwing extra beats, but it was steadier and not as weak. He transferred his grip to Bart's shoulder just as thunder rumbled again. "Bart," he said. "Wake up."

Bart immediately went, "Mmm?" surprising them. It looked like he was already awake, to some degree, at least.

"You might wanna finish waking up, Bart," said Bret. "There's a storm out there."

"Storm?" Bart echoed.

Bret nodded. "Yep."

"So?" Bart's eyes were still closed and he sounded mumbly.

"So I don't want you to jump sky-high when thunder rolls in again," said Bret, squeezing his brother's shoulder. "It's not good for your heart."

"Oh," Bart said. He opened his eyes, giving them both a sleepy smile. "Mornin'."

"Mornin'," they both replied, returning his smile.

Suddenly, thunder sounded overhead; an earsplitting crack rather than a dull rumble that made all three of them jump. The entire hospital shook.

Bret tightened the grip on his brother's shoulder and placed his fingers on the pulse on Bart's wrist, just in time to feel two extra beats. "You all right?"

Bart nodded, breathing faster. "Glad I...was awake."

Bret nodded. Even a healthy person would've been scared to death if they'd been woken by that. He waited for his brother to recover from being startled, before asking, "Is it any easier for you to breathe?"

Bart nodded. That first day, it'd been so hard to breathe that he'd been sure that he was dying.

Bret and Beau both smiled.

"You scared us to death," Beau told him.

"Sorry," said Bart.

Bret shook his head. "Not your fault, brother Bart."

"Scared myself," Bart told them.

Bret sighed. "I'm sure. Now before you fall asleep again, you're going to eat."

For the first time in four days, Bart felt hungry. "Okay."

Beau quickly stood, glad that he'd agreed so easily. "I'll be right back," he said, handing Bret the towel and dashing for the door.

Bret took over waving the oxygen at Bart before saying, "Beau's words were an understatement."

Bart nodded, understanding how his brother felt without him having to say it.

They were both quiet for a moment after that, as they both realized that Bart still might not be out of the woods as far as lasting effects were concerned.

Thunder cracked overhead again, and the rain seemed to grow even heavier.

"How long?" Bart asked, not sure how much time had passed.

"Four days," Bret told him.

Bart was surprised. Time sure was passing fast for him...but he knew that it must be torture for his brother and cousin.

Beau came back a minute later. "Perfect timing," he said. "The hospital cook had just finished making these when I got there." He placed a tray on Bart's lap and took off the cover to reveal a plate of scrambled eggs.

Bret was glad to see that their cousin had brought him something more substantial than soup. He handed Beau the towel, helped his brother sit up, and sat on Bart's bed, reaching for the plate.

"Can do it," Bart unexpectedly said.

Bret's eyebrows shot up and he placed the tray on Bart's lap, watching as Bart took the spoon—another good idea, Beau!—scooped some up, and ate it.

"Needs salt," Bart remarked.

The sight of Bart awake, talking, breathing, feeding himself, and actually joking overwhelmed Bret, and he laughed harder than was perhaps necessary.

Beau laughed too, but he sensed his cousin's fragile state of mind and put a steadying hand on Bret's shoulder as he walked forward and took something out of his pocket. "I figured you'd say that." He held up a saltshaker.

Bret nearly lost it again, but he controlled himself and took it, shaking it over his brother's food. "Better?"

Bart took another bite and nodded. "Thanks," he said with a smile.

Bret smiled back, especially when he realized that there was no more gray tinge to his brother's skin.

Everyone was quiet as they watched Bart eat. Still very weak, he ate slowly, but he ate it all. He was tired-out afterwards, and was asleep again nearly before Bret had finished lying him back down.

Bret sat back in his chair with a sigh, staring at his brother as his emotions again tried to rise to the surface. "Beau..." he said, his voice catching as he tried to express his relief.

Beau squeezed his shoulder again, and his voice was full of the same emotion when he said, "I know."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The rain continued on and off all day, but the thunder eventually stopped. Bart slept until early afternoon, and when he woke they made him eat again. After that, the doctor came in.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Bart.

"Much better," Bart answered. It was true; no longer was he struggling to breathe.

The doctor checked his pulse and listened to Bart's heartbeat and lungs before telling Beau to stop with the oxygen.

Beau hesitated, but obeyed.

They all watched Bart, who was still breathing faster than normal.

"Is it harder to breathe?" the doctor asked.

It was, but Bart didn't want to tell them that, and waited a few seconds before answering. "Air seems thicker."

"Never expected to hear someone say that in Denver," the doctor remarked.

Everyone smiled at the quip, but they couldn't laugh at such a serious matter.

The doctor looked at Bret and Beau. "Don't give him anymore oxygen; the next step is seeing if he can do without it."

Neither Bret nor Beau liked the sound of that, but they reluctantly nodded.

The doctor studied Bart further, relieved to see that the gray tinge to his skin was gone. "I can't deny that you're definitely recovering," he said. "When they brought you in here that day, I didn't expect you to last the night."

Bart looked at his brother and cousin, imagining their fear.

"Do you think he'll fully recover?" Beau asked.

The doctor picked up Bart's wrist again to check his pulse. The rhythm was steady now, despite the extra beats that it still threw in here and there. "It's possible," he said. "But you can't go right back to how you were," he said to Bart. "This is very serious; you need to take it easy for a long time, to ensure that your heart has as much recovery time as possible. It won't be able to handle much exertion, especially at first. You won't be able to walk far, and don't even think about running. Anything that stresses your heart is an absolute no." He turned to look at Bret and Beau. "I don't know where you all live, but wherever you take him, he should see a doctor regularly until he's told that he no longer needs to."

Bret and Beau nodded somberly.

The doctor looked at Bart again. "Don't ever forget about this, either. That goes for you too," he said, glancing at the others. "If there is permanent damage, it may not show up until some day in the future. Even if you think you're perfectly fine, you should see a doctor at least once a year just to check your heart."

Bart nodded, looking nervous at the doctor's words.

Bret and Beau were nervous too. They never thought about what could show up in the future.

The doctor noticed Bart's pulse speed up and throw another extra beat. He put his patient's arm back down to the bed and patted it. "Now now, I don't mean to scare you; you may fully recover with no lasting damage, but I need to convince you of the seriousness of this so that you'll do what it takes to keep your heart strong."

Bart nodded. He tried to take a deep breath when his lungs felt constricted, trying not to make it obvious.

The doctor patted his arm again. "You're young and otherwise healthy, so just rest and do what I said, and I'm sure you'll be fine." He stood and looked at the others. "Remember, don't give him the oxygen; we need to see if he can do without it."

Bret and Beau both nodded.

"I'll be back to check on him," the doctor said, and left.

Bret sat on the bed and studied his brother, able to immediately see that he wasn't breathing as 'well' as he did with the oxygen. "You all right?"

Bart silently nodded.

"No you aren't," said Beau. "And we don't blame you; what the doctor said was frightening."

"But he said that Bart will probably be fine," Bret said to Beau. He was just as afraid as they were, but he wanted to alleviate his brother's fear as much as he could. "He had to say those things, Bart, you're not recovered yet and need to take it easy."

"Wanna get up," was Bart's contradictory response.

"Get up?" said Beau, incredulous.

Bret shook his head. "Sorry Bart, that's not happening; not until the doctor says so. We don't know how your heart would react."

Bart sighed, which wasn't easy with the abrupt decrease of oxygen. It made him feel dizzy and he coughed.

Bret, still sitting on the bed, put a hand on Bart's arm. "You all right?"

Bart nodded, trying to take a deep breath. He succeeded on the second try.

Bret and Beau were both relieved.

The doctor came back twenty minutes later, and was pleased to see that Bart was doing all right—considering—without the oxygen. "Only give it to him if he needs it," said the doctor.

"He looks like he needs it to me," Beau said, before Bret had a chance to say the same thing.

"When he leaves this hospital, he'll no longer have it," said the doctor. "He needs to get used to breathing without it."

The other two Mavericks didn't like the notion, but Bart wasn't feeling as badly as they apparently thought. He was still breathing faster than normal, but he could finally take deeper breaths today for the first time in nearly a week. He was surprised that he could do that without the oxygen, and wondered if he'd no longer needed as much before now but they hadn't realized it.

For the rest of the day, Bret and Beau watched Bart like a hawk, alert for any sign that he needed the oxygen. Bart made sure to stay as still as possible, not wanting to need it. He did fine, until Beau went to get supper from the hotel rather than the hospital kitchen and when he came in, he tripped on something invisible and Bart started to laugh.

Beau didn't fall and managed to hold onto the basket of food.

Bret laughed too, until he looked at his brother, whose laugh turned into coughing. He jumped up and opened the oxygen bucket, quickly waving it at his brother.

Bart hadn't thought of the consequences of laughing. It immediately grew harder to breathe, but it wasn't bad enough to justify the panic on his brother and cousin's faces. "I'm...fine..." he said in between the coughs.

Bret wasn't sure whether to believe him.

It took longer for Bart to catch his breath this time, and his lungs wwre feeling heavy again. He said nothing, though. If he could convince the doctor that he was doing well, maybe he'd let him get out of bed tomorrow. He began to wonder how much longer he was going to be stuck in the hospital.

The evening dragged on, and Bart eventually fell asleep.

Bret and Beau planned to take turns sleeping, but Bret found it impossible to sleep himself, afraid that Bart would need the oxygen overnight. He stared at his brother, his eyes never leaving him for an instant as he watched every twitch, every frown, every slight movement. It was around four in the morning when he saw his brother's breathing speed up in apparent response to a dream. Bart made a soft noise and moved his head, appearing distressed.

Bret grabbed the oxygen, and Beau suddenly woke.

"What's wrong?" Beau whispered.

"I think he's having a nightmare," Bret whispered back, handing him the towel.

Beau took it and stood, waving the oxygen at Bart.

Bret gently took Bart's wrist and felt his pulse. His heartbeat was faster with more extra beats.

"Should we wake him up?" Beau asked, as Bart moved his head and made another noise, breathing heavily.

Bret sighed. "I don't know…it might startle him too much."

"Well which is better, being startled or suffering whatever frightful thing is going on in his mind?" Beau asked.

Bret wasn't sure.

They didn't have to decide, as Bart suddenly stilled and his breathing started to slow down as his nightmare apparently ended.

Both Mavericks were relieved, and Beau kept up with the oxygen until Bart's breathing returned to normal—or rather, Bart's current version of 'normal'—and Bret laid his brother's arm back to the bed once his pulse evened out.

Neither of them went back to sleep after that, as they both wondered what lay in store for Bart in the near future. Would he completely recover? Would he?

TBC