The day passed as it should – quickly and with no emergencies to contend with. Thanks to help from Divya, Hank hadn't really needed to do much except for gently examining each patient and then giving instructions. He suspected that Divya had been trying to keep him from over-using his injured hand, but he couldn't prove it. All he could do was be grateful to her and he was. She'd helped divert Ms. Newburg's attention when she'd noticed that Hank was hurt, and she'd continued to do that throughout the day, saving Hank from a lot of blushing and lies. He'd heard from Evan a few times over the day, but neither time had the CFO explained who he'd had to meet which made Hank a little uneasy; Evan was the kind of person who babbled over the potential new patients he'd acquired which made his secrecy unsettling.

As he'd thought, he'd had to have Divya re-wrap his wrist because he'd done a crap job of it by himself. Just like with Evan, he'd seen her expression change when she noticed the makings of a handprint, but unlike Evan, she didn't say anything about it. Which was why, when she dropped him off he wasn't surprised that she locked the car and turned off the engine.

"Tell me what happened to your wrist," she evenly demanded. Her tone was firm but her eyes were kind, showing that she was worried and nothing more.

"A patient didn't like the service he was getting," Hank replied vaguely, seeing no point in hiding it.

"Was it not enough?" she asked, confused.

"No, it was that he was getting it at all actually."

At this she laughed and he didn't blame her. Ivan's reaction was ridiculous considering the man was choking. Hank wondered what had happened that made the man hate Americans like he did, and he also wondered why the man was working for Boris, who lived in America, if that was the case.

"He sounds like an idiot," she said with a slight smile in her voice.

"I wouldn't say an idiot, but, yeah an idiot."

She laughed again, this time unlocking the car and letting them both out into the cool night air. "Well, I trust that I won't have to worry about anymore encounters then? The last thing I want is to get a call from a panicked Evan because you're badly hurt."

"I think the last thing anybody wants is to get a call from a panicked Evan," Hank joked, knowing that he couldn't make any promise about not seeing Ivan again. He sincerely hoped that there wouldn't be any problems, but he also didn't like the way the man kept looking at him. It was almost as if the guy was secretly planning ways to, at best hurt Hank and at worst kill Hank while making either look like an accident.

She laughed at his joke, but it was less boisterous as the previous one, showing Hank that she was serious in her concern. He sighed, "Look, you know me. I can't promise not to help a patient, even if they don't want it."

"I suppose that's true," she conceded, narrowing her eyes like she was trying to find a way to get him to make the promise anyways.

"You want to stay for dinner?" he offered, thinking that a change in subject was in order.

"Dinner?" she asked, almost scoffed. "With you and Evan? Won't I need a hardhat and a tarp?"

"Are you saying that eating with us is like war?" he asked, catching on to her meaning.

"Working with you two is like war. I can't imagine what eating with you two would be like."

"Well, now's your chance to find out," he returned with a smile before he started walking down to the guesthouse. He didn't have to look back to know that she was following him. Her shoes squelched on the recently watered grass and every once in a while he could hear her curse as she slid a little down the hill.

They reached the guesthouse to find it aglow, providing a beacon in the slowly darkening night. Every light, it appeared, in the house was on, including those on the patio. It looked as though Evan were putting on a party of his own, except the only people Hank knew to be invited were Evan, Hank and now Divya.

"What's all this? Did you two plan this?" Divya asked as they entered the patio.

"Definitely not," Hank replied, more than a little surprised himself. He stopped dead when he saw just who was standing on the patio, playing pool with Evan.

"Hey kiddo," Eddie R. Lawson greeted with an easy smile on his face. "Look at you. You look good."

Hank took a few minutes to process the fact that his father was currently standing in front of him with the world's biggest smile on his face.

"What?" Eddie pouted. "No hug?"

Without thought for how it would feel, Hank slugged his father. It was when pain tore through his wrist that he remembered he shouldn't have done that, but he also couldn't care. As far as Hank was concerned, it was payback for what Eddie R. had done to Evan and Hank's mom when he'd left.

"Hank!" Divya cried, startled by Hank's behavior. She went over to Eddie, who was struggling to get off the ground.

"No, it's alright," Eddie waved off, "I deserved that."

His cheek bled where Hank had hit him, but he didn't try to do anything to staunch the blood. Instead, he continued to stand where he was, in front of Hank, and stare at his son.

Hank remained where he stood, cradling his right hand against his chest while he waited for the pain in his wrist to calm. His mind raced with questions that he wanted to ask but he didn't know where to start. He was half tempted to punch his father again, but Divya stepped in, changing the plan.

"Here, sit down and let me look at that," she ordered. She pushed Eddie into a nearby chair and gently examining his cheek. She looked at Hank, half accusing him, half surprised. "He'll need a few stitches. How hard did you hit him?"

"Who hit who?" Evan asked, coming onto the patio. His eyes bulged when he took in his father's bleeding and bruised cheek and he turned on his brother, "You hit him?! What for? Do you hate him that much?"

"Evan, stop, it's alright," Eddie soothed, holding up his hand to shush Evan. "Like I told your friend here, I deserved it."

Hank watched as Evan's mouth opened to say something, but after one look from both Divya and Hank and he shut it again. Anger burned in his eyes, searing holes through Hank as he walked back into the guesthouse to make an ice pack for his father.

"Here, hold that to your cheek while I go get a suture kit," Divya instructed, waiting for Eddie to take the gauze before she left. On her way into the cottage, she stopped by Hank and whispered, "Are you alright?" He looked down at her, questioning what exactly she meant because she could be quite perceptive when she wanted to be. "Your wrist, did you hurt it more?"

"No, I don't think so," he answered, refusing to say that he was fine because he wasn't. In all honesty, he wasn't sure if he'd injured his wrist more or not, but he also couldn't think clearly at the moment either, so he lied.

She nodded then went inside to grab the kit. Both she and Evan came out at the same time, each with their items in hand. Evan held onto the ice pack while Divya stitched the cut, quietly fuming and waiting to tear Hank a new one.

"What's wrong with your wrist, Henry?" Eddie asked, noticing the bandage.

"Nothing," Hank answered, refusing to give his father any information that he didn't deem necessary.

Unfortunately, Evan didn't seem to agree with Hank and so he answered honestly, "Some guy tried to stop him from administering medical aid. You should see the bruise; it's almost a thing of beauty. And the handprint is like the size of bigfoot's hand," he trailed off at a glare from Divya and then asked, "What?"

"How bad is it?" Eddie asked, his sole focus now on Hank, something that Hank did not want.

"It's nothing. I'm fine," Hank answered, throwing a glare of his own over at Evan.

His brother merely rolled his eyes and answered for him again, "He told me this morning that if he had to guess it was just a bad bruise."

"Speaking of which, I should probably take a look at it," Divya said, setting down the soiled needle, thread and stripping off her gloves. She placed a bandage over the stitches and moved, allowing Evan room to step in and hand his father the ice pack.

"Divya, I'm fine," Hank placated with an awkward smile. The throbbing that had started at the punch hadn't really died down, despite his attempts to let it. Thankfully, he'd had other things on his mind and so the pain hadn't truly registered in his mind, but now that everyone else was focused on it, so was his mind. Pain briefly wrinkled his forehead, dimming the effect of the smile just enough to tell his PA that he was lying.

Obviously not believing him, Divya rolled her eyes and sighed. "Doctors really are the worst patients, aren't they?" she commented as she gently steered Hank to one of the lawn chairs.

Instinctively, Hank settled against the chair, stretching out in it while she went and grabbed a more upright one for her to sit in. Hank wasn't one to believe that money was everything, but he had to admit that it sometimes did help. The chair was made of the softest fabric; it practically absorbed your body, cushioning every major joint possible while still allowing your skin to breathe.

"Evan, go make another ice pack for Hank," Divya instructed as she sat down and gingerly grabbed Hank's injured hand.

"Why? Did he hurt it more?" Evan asked, trying to peer over her shoulder.

"I don't know," she replied in a tone that spoke of how annoyed she was getting, making Hank smile. He knew that everyone thought Evan nothing more than an energetic child, and while he was inclined to agree, he also knew the more serious side of his brother; it didn't appear very often, but it was there, you just had to find it. "But chances are that either way it hurts and could use the numbing."

"Here, use mine," Eddie offered. Slowly, he got up and offered his ice pack to Evan, wobbling just a little as he moved.

"Dad, you okay?" Evan asked, noticing the unsteady walk. He went over to his father and grabbed Eddie's left arm, helping to hold him steady.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, just a little off balance is all."

"Mr. Lawson, if you're dizzy you shouldn't be trying to walk," Divya lightly scolded while keeping her attention on unwrapping Hank's wrist. "Now, please sit down and wait for it to subside; I don't need two stubborn Lawson patients."

"Hey," Hank objected with a small pout. "I'm not stubborn and I'm not a patient. What I am is fine," he argued. The argument fell flat on its ass when she pressed over a darker portion of the bruise and he cried, "Ow!"

"Sorry," she apologized, her eyes never leaving his hand. She gently continued her examination for another few seconds before she grabbed a spare pillow from the lawn chair next to Hank's and used it to elevate his arm. "Well, Doctor Lawson. There are many things you are, but fine is not one of them."

"What do you mean? What's wrong with him?" Evan asked. Currently he sat in a chair on the other side of Hank's lawn chair, sitting in between his brother and his father who coincidentally sat in the lawn chair to Hank's left.

"I'll need to get a couple of x-rays, but I'm fairly certain that he's fractured his wrist."

"Dang, Dad, your head must be hard," Evan joked and the laughed at his own joke. When no one else joined in, he stopped and cleared his throat. "Right, so, do we need to go to Hampton's Heritage right away or should we wait until the morning?"

Both Hank and Divya stared at Evan like he was crazy.

"Ev, we run a concierge medicine practice," Hank slowly informed. He hissed when Divya moved his pillowed arm onto his own lap rather than hers, drawing another look of apology from the PA. She grabbed the ice pack from Eddie R. and then placed it over Hank's wrist as a form of peace offering.

"I know," Evan said. "It was my idea, remember?"

"Actually it was my idea, you just happen to steal it," Divya corrected, standing up. "What Hank's point is, Evan, is that I have a portable x-ray machine just for this type of occasion. Just give me a few minutes to get it." She looked down at Hank with her most stern doctor's face, "Make sure you keep that ice on your wrist, and no more punching people, got it?"

Hank chuckled a little at her demand. "Yeah, I got it. I think we can all place nice for now." At this he looked at his dad and brother for confirmation even though he knew that it was him and only him that technically had the problem.

"Good, I'll be right back."

"So," Evan began, quickly uncomfortable with the silence once Divya had left. "Anybody hungry? Thirsty? Anything?"

"You know, now that you mention it, I could use something to drink. Do you got any beer?"

"Uh, no," Hank objected instantly, his medical training taking over. He shifted a little so that he could face his father and his brother a little better. "You could have a concussion, Dad, you can't have alcohol."

"Okay, well, what about iced tea? And some aspirin?"

Evan, not wanting to get in trouble for giving his father something he shouldn't have, looked at Hank for approval.

"Iced tea is fine, but you can have Tylenol, not aspirin."

"Why not?" Eddie asked, bringing a hand to dramatically rub his forehead.

"Because we don't have any," Evan answered, giving Hank a slight smile, knowing that was the reason his brother said no.

"Exactly," Hank agreed. He leaned his head against the chair and closed his eyes. The ice was helping to numb the pain in his arm, but it couldn't touch the pain in his heart whenever he looked at his father.

That was the problem with being the oldest. When your father leaves, you feel like you and you alone have to take care of the rest of the family. You feel like you have to shield your younger brother from the ugly truth that your father isn't coming back, and then you have to shield him from the wolves of the world, who would pick on him or hurt him because he was skinny and poor. You feel like you have to protect your sick and dying mother from the truth that her husband couldn't stomach the sight of seeing her as she was and so left to spare himself.

Yes, Hank knew that was the reason why Eddie R. had left. For a while he'd thought that it was because his father didn't love Hank's mother, but after a few years he'd discovered that it was quite the opposite. He loved her so much that watching her grow weak and die hurt too much and he couldn't take it. It didn't excuse the fact that he left and let Hank take on the burden of the family, but it did help Hank to understand it a bit more.

When Hank looked at his father now, older and trying to make amends, his stomach rolled and his heart gave a painful pound. There was no amends that Eddie R. could make that would make Hank forgive him for what he did. Long ago Hank had absorbed the pain his mother had felt at her husband abandoning his boys and her, and he'd absorbed the pain that Eddie R. had caused Evan. Whenever Hank had a nightmare, it was of his brother crying himself to sleep every night, sleeping in front of the front door, waiting for their father to come back and wasting away before Hank's eyes because Eddie R. didn't.

"Hank?" Evan's voice called to him through his thoughts. When Hank didn't respond, he tried again, "Henry?"

"What, Evan?" Slowly, he opened one eye and found both his brother and father staring at him in concern.

"Do you need me to get you anything?" Evan offered, looking uncomfortable. "You look like you're in some pain there?"

"I do?" Hank questioned, confused. It was when a teardrop fell down his neck that Hank realized he'd been silently crying. He didn't know how long he'd been crying but if he had to guess it was when he recalled the image of his little brother waiting for a man who would never show. "Oh," he said, quickly wiping the water away, "no, I'm fine. Just get Dad what he needs."

Evan nodded and walked into the guesthouse, leaving Hank and his father alone.

"You okay, kid?" Eddie R. quietly asked, his concern more than Hank could swallow.

Hank slowly turned his head to look at his father. His blue eyes were hard and unforgiving as he answered, "No, Dad, I'm not."

The gate to the patio opened and Divya's heels tapped on the stone, stopping any further conversation but Hank knew from the remorse and sadness in his father's eyes alone that he'd understood what Hank had been trying to say.

"Alright," Divya said, setting the x-ray machine up right beside where Hank was sitting. "Now, you know the drill so I'm not going to explain it to you. The ice should have done its job and numbed your wrist pretty good so this shouldn't hurt at all."

Gently, she separated his arm from the pillow and set it down on the table. She positioned it so that she could get a better look at the bones she thought were fractured and then she went over to the computer, which Evan had somehow managed to set up right beside Eddie R. without any of them noticing.

"One, two, three," Divya counted before the machine made a clicking sound. Moving from her spot at the computer and over to readjust Hank's wrist, she moved it again so that she could get another view and then went back to the computer. She counted off again then the machine clicked for a second time. "Okay, you're done."

"That's it?" Eddie asked, looking amazed at the little machine and then back to the computer where Divya was looking at the results. "Boy, I remember when taking x-rays was a lot longer process."

"That's the beauty of technology, Dad, it's always advancing," Evan answered, clasping a hand on his father's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. He looked over his shoulder at the computer and asked, "So, Divs, what's the diagnosis?"

Divya sighed and took off her glasses, "Well, it's like I'd thought. You've got a hairline fracture in your capitate bone. It's not bad so I don't think you'll need a cast. But you will need a brace and to be careful how you use your hand until it heals because if you hurt it worse, you will get a cast whether you want it or not."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Hank replied, rolling his eyes for extra emphasis.

"I know you know," Divya responded. "That was for your brother and father, just in case I needed witnesses."

Beside her, Evan and Eddie R. shared a knowing smile.

"Witnesses?" Hank asked, gently pulling his arm off the table and putting it back on his lap. Sometime during the procedure, the pillow had fallen to the ground so he settled for simply laying it on his legs, wincing as the dull ache sharpened when his wrist was moved.

Rolling her eyes in impatience, Divya grabbed the fallen pillow and placed it under Hank's arm. "Yes, witnesses. Like you said earlier, Hank, I know you. You will help a patient in need with no thought of your own health. It's an admirable trait, but it does you no good if you're already injured so I want you to think about my warning each time you see a patient."

For a minute Hank said nothing. He was stunned at her show of concern and insight to how he handled patient care. It wasn't that he didn't care about his own health – he really did actually – it was that his doctor's instincts were to put the patient in need first and himself second. It's how he worked and it was what made him a good doctor.

Taking his silence for agreement, Divya nodded her head in satisfaction. "Good, now stay there while I go get a brace for you."

She went into the guesthouse/their office and returned quickly with a black brace. It had five Velcro straps; four that secured the brace around the arm and one that went around the hand. Hank stifled a groan when he saw what she'd grabbed. He highly doubted that he would have trouble remembering to be careful with that thing strapped to his arm, and he was pretty sure that was the point.

He gasped when she secured the brace, unable to stop himself. The numbing effects of the ice had slowly started to wear off since the x-ray and he was beginning to feel every slight jerk, pull or push of his wrist. He knew the compression would eventually feel nice, but getting to that point was a pain.

"There, all done," Divya announced with a smile. "Now then, I believe I was promised dinner?"

"You were?" Evan asked then looked down at Hank, "She was?"

"Yes, she was, why do you think she's here?" He winced as he slowly got out of the lawn chair, doing his best not to use his dominant hand. Completely ignoring his father, Hank went into the kitchen, looking for the dinner that he knew Evan had prepared.

"I don't know," Evan defended, following his brother and Divya. "Maybe you guys had some doctor things you needed to discuss or something, how am I supposed to know?"

On the kitchen island sat a small platter with six chicken breasts, a bowl of pasta, and another bowl of sauce. Even from a distance Hank knew that it wasn't just a plain meal. The chicken had obviously been marinated in a thin tomato sauce of some sort because they had a red hint to them and there were sliced tomatoes on top of them with what looked like parsley sprinkled around the plate. The sauce appeared to be the juice left over from the marination; it was thinner than the average tomato sauce but it smelled delicious, making both Hank and Divya's stomachs growl.

"Smells good, doesn't it?" Evan asked with a broad grin.

"It smells divine," Eddie R. answered from behind Hank and Divya. Thinking that he'd remained on the patio, the two jumped at the sound of his voice in their ears. "What is it?"

"It's chicken marsala, at least according to the recipe." Evan walked over to his little spread and grabbed a plate, fork, knife and then the serving spoon. Holding the spoon up, he looked at the group, "Well? What are you waiting for? Dig in!"

TBC