Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Here's the next chappie, and I hope to get chapter 4 up by early tomorrow morning before I have to head to the airport. Since this chapter is from Hank's POV, the italicized dialogue is what he hears over the phone. Just thought I would clear that up ahead of time. :)

Hank

It amazes me the lack of common sense in the human population. I mean, if you want an all-over tan, why not use a spray? Isn't this the reason they invented spray tans? Why would you intentionally lie outside for 5 hours without sunscreen… naked? There's only so much you can do for someone like that – I can't just magically cure a second-degree sunburn, I can only treat it. "I hope she remembers to cover up if she goes outside for the next ten days or so," I muse as Divya and I exit the mansion of our latest client.

"Oh, she's not going anywhere," Divya states confidently. Smirking, she explains, "She looks an absolute fright, and the blisters are too painful to have any sort of clothing sitting on them. She might be an exhibitionist, but she's also socially conscious. She's going to turn into a hermit for a week… a naked hermit." She winks.

"So much for the modeling gig," I shrug, and I involuntarily shudder. All that blistering... everywhere... ouch. Just then I hear my phone buzz in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see Evan's name on the caller ID. He must have just awakened from his nap. I bet he's starving - he's slept through lunch. I think I'll offer to bring him something from that Thai place he likes so much. I answer the phone, "Hey, bro! How are you feeling?"

"Hank!"

I can feel my facial expression fall, as I immediately switch over to confusion and a hint of annoyance. "Eddie, what are you doing calling me on Evan's phone?" Perhaps he figures I would actually answer a call from Evan. Which I did. Point: Eddie R. But why does he have Evan's phone to begin with? He'd better not be over there bugging my injured brother...

"Evan's in trouble." What? "I found him here at your house on the floor. He's hurting really bad. I – I don't know what to do! Something's really wrong with him." He is speaking hurriedly, faster than he ever has, and he sounds… upset. Really upset. Oh my God, what's wrong with my brother?

Alarm bells sound in my head. Something happened with his back, perhaps? But it's just a strain! How bad can it actually be? I want to hear it from Evan's own mouth. "Dad, let me talk to him!"

A pause, and then I hear him. "H-Hey… s-s-sorry to b-bother you…" Evan doesn't sound right at all. He sounds weak and hoarse, and I can hear his breath coming in fast gasps. Though he actually tries to greet me with a casual enough tone, it's impossible to hide the anguish and abject terror in his voice. He can't hide it from me – I know every pitch, every cadence, and every expression of that voice, and I know at this moment, even without any visual cues, that something is way more wrong that anything has ever been in both of our lives.

"Evan, what's wrong? You sound-"

"Hank, I don't… I d-don't know wha – oh, ow… God! God!" he cries out, and I hear him howl in pain. Yes, that is definitely pain.

"Evan! What is it? Tell me what hurts," I ask, raising my voice in an attempt to get Evan to focus long enough to describe his condition. In the corner of my eye, I see Divya's amused look drop from her face as she hears the change in my voice. I wasn't doing a good job of hiding my worry, and it's contagious. I can now see my expression reflected on her face.

"My…m-my back… I c-can't, I can't stand up… I… aaahh!" Once again, he trails off into an agonized moan. It's absolutely gut-wrenching to hear, especially since I'm not right there to help him. I officially go from alarm into full-fledged panic.

"Evan! Evan, talk to me. What do you mean, you can't stand up? Did you fall somehow?"

"No, n-no… just… just happened… 'M dizzy... Oh God, it hurts so m-m-much! Hank, help me… p-please."

"I'm coming, Evan, I'm on my way! Give me five minutes. Just hold on, it's going to be alright!" I look at Divya quickly. "We've gotta go, now!" We run to her SUV, Divya automatically jumping in the driver's seat. I'm still on the phone as I fumble with my seat belt. "Evan? Hey, bro, you still there?"

Eddie's voice comes on the line. "Hank, it's Dad again. Evan's in really bad shape here. What should I do? Tell me what I need to do… I thought he'd be more comfortable on the couch, but I don't know if I can lift him by myself-"

"NO. Dad, do not move him, and don't let him try to get up. Keep him where he is; we don't know what's causing the pain and moving around might make it worse. Is he running a fever?"

"No, I don't think so. He doesn't feel warm. In fact, he actually feels kind of cold to me. Cold and clammy. And he's shaking all over and he's white as a ghost." In the background, layered over Eddie's voice, I hear another pained moan.

"How's his heartrate?"

"Hang on, I…" he trails off and I hear some fumbling with the phone. There is a pause, and I grumble with impatience, tapping my fingers on my thigh. Finally, I hear, "Ok, sorry, I was trying to feel his heart, and it's beating really fast."

"Damn it." Evan's going into shock, that's clear enough, though from what, I have absolutely no idea. I turn to Divya and quickly say, "Divya, he's in shock. I need you to call an ambulance; I have to stay on this line." She whips out her phone as we turn out of the driveway and dials.

"Hank, he's in so much pain! I don't… Should I give him something, like, would an aspirin help or-?"

"No, don't give him anything, not even a glass of water! Dad, listen, whatever this is, it's causing Evan to go into shock. Can you grab a blanket or something, keep him warm, keep him awake, and just hang on for me? We're calling an ambulance to meet us there." I'm trying to talk to my father who is completely wigging out on the other end of the phone, and I have to make myself focus as I hear Divya giving details to the 911 operator. She's also driving like a bat out of hell, and I'm really hoping she's as good a multi-tasker behind the wheel as she normally is. "Listen, Dad, if the ambulance gets there before we do – I don't think it will, we're just a few minutes away now – but if it does, don't wait for us. Get Evan to the hospital as fast as you can…" and for the love of all things holy, don't you dare leave him, I mentally add.

"Hank, wait a second, Evan's wanting to talk to you again," Eddie says. "Let me put him on, and I'll run grab that blanket." There is a pause as I assume the phone is being passed again, or perhaps being held up to Evan's ear. I can hear the labored breathing over the line, and then a quiet, "Hank…"

"Hey bro," I murmur, trying to keep emotion from breaking my voice. I have to be calm, for his sake, if not for my own. I can't let him hear how scared I am – if he panics, it'll just make it harder for him. "You're going to be just fine, you hear me? We're almost there, and an ambulance is coming too. We'll get you to the hospital and figure out what's going on, ok?"

"Hank… it really hurts!"

"I know, I know it hurts, we'll take care of it. Don't worry."

"I mean… I'm no d-d-doctor, and… far b-be it for m-me to give a… a m-m-medical opinion on any-anything, but… b-but… I don't think this is a p-pulled m-m-muscle…" he stammers, doing his best to talk around the pain that is exerting itself on his body.

"I don't think so anymore, either. We'll figure out what's wrong, Evan. We'll fix it; I promise."

"I k-know you will… b-b-but… I think, I think I'm d-dying here…"

"No, no, no, Evan. Listen to me, listen: you're not dying. I know it might feel like that because you're in pain, but you're not dying. You'll be just fine." I croon and I soothe as if I am trying to calm him after a bad dream, the way I did when we were little and shared a room, all the while wondering if my little brother's hypothesis is accurate.

"'M so sorry…"

"Sorry? What about?"

"Everything… all the times I m-messed up…"

"Evan, would you stop that? There's nothing to say sorry for!" I break in, though I really don't mean to sound quite so irritable. Evan is clearly trying to get his last words in, just in case, but he isn't going to die if I have anything to say about it, so he should just stay quiet and conserve his strength.

"Love you…" his voice is a choked whisper now. I hesitate just a little, partly because I have this enormous lump the size of a golf ball stuck in my throat, and partly because… I know what he's doing right now. He's scared and not sure he can hold on, and he's asking my permission, and I don't want to give it to him. I don't want to make it okay for him to let go.

"I… I know… please just try to rest," I reply, my voice wavering despite best intentions. God help me, but I can't say those words under these conditions. I'm not going to allow it. He's going to have to stick around to hear me say it. Once he's out of danger, I tell him twenty times a day for the rest of our lives, but he's got to fight for it.

"Ok… you're right…kinda t-tired…" comes the fractured whisper, and then I suddenly hear our father's voice calling distantly through the line: "Evan! Come on, son, stay awake. Evan... hey, I know you're tired, I know it hurts, but don't close your eyes, ok?"

"Evan? Dad? Dad! Eddie! Talk to me, what's happening?" No one bothers to answer, which completely infuriates me, and my heart begins to race even faster. "Hello? I'm still here, can someone please talk to me? HELLO?"

Less than a minute later, we pull up to the guesthouse, and I spring from the car before it even stops moving, and bolt to the door. I'm afraid I leave Divya in the dust as I burst inside.

"Dad?" I call as I run in.

"In here!" I immediately see them both near the kitchen. Eddie kneels over Evan's prone body, looking panicked and utterly lost. He is urgently saying Evan's name over and over, but he doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands. They're sort of hovering only an inch above Evan's body, like he's afraid to touch him for fear he'll do something wrong, but he desperately wants to. He appears to have followed my directions to the letter, having covered Evan with a blanket and his own blazer is folded up beneath his head. "Hank, thank God you're here. I was talking to him, to keep him awake – like you said – and trying to get him to answer me, and he just sort of passed out… like he fell asleep…"

"Move over," I say abruptly, as I drop to my knees by my brother, and Eddie scurries out of my way. "Evan…" I whisper, more to myself than to anyone else, as I bend over him. Evan looks horrible – his skin is so pale it has almost a grey tinge to it. I see the pathways his tears have taken down his face. There's no color in his cheeks, or his lips. Now that I can see him, he looks like someone with hemorrhagic shock. Since I can see no wound, no blood anywhere to my naked eye, it can only mean he's bleeding internally. I automatically feel for a pulse, and curse when I find it – it's far too erratic and weak for my comfort. "Ev? Evan, can you hear me? Come on, bro… just open your eyes for me," I demand as I tap Evan's cold cheeks. But my brother is now unresponsive, and by the look of him, inches from death. As I pull out my penlight and check the reactivity of Evan's pupils, I feel my father hovering over my shoulder, watching my every move. Like I need that sort of pressure on me right now. It's bad enough there's a gnawing voice in my brain screaming at me: You SHOULD have overreacted!

"Ok, Dad, I need you give me some room here. Go out there and help Divya bring in the oxygen tank from the car," I instruct briskly. He doesn't even question me, just picks himself up and immediately dashes outside. I check Evan's airway, which is clear. His breaths are rapid and shallow, but at the moment I'm just glad he's breathing at all.

Divya and Eddie drag in medical equipment, and I thank my lucky stars that I have a PA that just carries this stuff around with her in her car for just such an emergency. I'm pretty good at thinking on my feet and improvising in the field when I don't have the equipment I need, but I really would rather not have to use some sketchy home remedy made of paper clips and lawn clippings on my little brother when his condition is this serious. As she approaches, I hear her gasp and whisper, "Oh, God, Evan…" in much the same way I did.

"Divya, let's get the oxygen going," I say, trying my best not to let this overwhelming sense of dread choke me completely. She fits the O2 mask on Evan's pale face, and as I fumble with the blood pressure cuff, I can see her blinking fiercely, her eyes bright. She absently wipes away the remnant of one of his tears with her thumb. But like me, she must put off her breakdown for now.

"Is he going to be ok, Hank?" Eddie asks hoarsely, fidgeting nervously.

"He's in shock; he's bleeding..." I say quickly, barely looking at him. I'm too busy trying to listen for his blood pressure readings.

"Bleeding?" Eddie sputters. "What are you talking about, I don't see any blood-"

"Bleeding internally, Dad," I say impatiently. "Divya, I think he's up to Grade 3 shock here; we should go ahead and start a saline IV and an arterial line as well, to get him ready for transfusing. BP is 70 over 50."

"Bloody hell," she mutters, and I sort of wince a bit at how the un-Divya-like expression seems to have momentarily changed her entire accent. But right now, I can't dwell on it. I hear the sirens in the distance, steadily getting louder. Thank God. They must be entering the property. The sooner we get Evan to the hospital, the better. Divya braces Evan for me – even though he's unconscious, he might still involuntarily flinch at the pinch of the needle, or he could spasm again… my greater worry is that he's so dehydrated from blood loss, he may begin to convulse. As I look for a vein in which to insert the IV line, I remember how I told him that morning that he wouldn't need to worry about any needle stuff. I didn't know I would be so wrong about that, and the knowledge that I'm breaking my promise makes my hands unsteady. And I miss. Damn. Trying to get the needle into the vein, I miss entirely. And the worst part is, as I pull back out to try again, I see that the point where I have stuck him is hardly bleeding at all. Barely even a drop from the capillaries beneath the skin.

The paramedics arrive at long last. It seems like they have taken forever, though really Divya and I beat them by only a few minutes. I tell them what I can. Since we don't know what's going on with his back injury, I help them get Evan situated on a backboard, then onto the stretcher. As he's being wheeled to the ambulance, I turn to Divya. "I'm going in the ambulance with him. You'll follow?" She nods. She looks pale and fearful, and I know she wants me to reassure her that Evan's going to be ok. But I can't for the life of me form the words, and I don't know that I can force optimism at this point. She knows… she knows exactly how bad this is. "I'll meet you there." I pivot quickly to hurry into the back of the ambulance truck, when I hear another voice ask, "What about me?"

I almost forgot about Eddie. He's looking fearful, and almost timid, as if he's bracing himself for an explosion… perhaps the explosion of my wrath. And God help me, I want this to be his fault. I want it so much, it's sticking in my throat like bile. I have no idea why Evan is ill right now, I don't know why he was like 95% functional a few hours ago and is now slowly bleeding to death inside his own body. I don't know why Eddie is here at our house in the first place. All I know is, my little brother might be dying, and Eddie was the one who was here with him. The truth is, I have already pinned this on him in my head, however irrational that might be, and I don't want him within a mile of the hospital. But I have a lot of questions that need answering, and since he's the one who happened to find Evan first, he's going to have to provide those answers. "Ride with Divya if you want to come," I grunt, practically daring him to fight me on this. He bites his lip. I take the opportunity to turn my back on him, and jump into the ambulance. Divya helps me close the door, and then we take off, leaving the two of them standing in the driveway.

To Be Continued...