As night settled on another day in the Hampton's, Hank crutched over to the large bed. His hair, wet from a rather glorious-feeling bath, dripped down his neck and onto his clean shirt making him want to wiggle to get the water off. He sighed as he finally made it to the bed and sat down upon it.

Of all the injuries that still plagued him, his wrist was the main one. His knee only bothered him if he didn't keep it elevated - the fact that it was too painful to put weight on it helped to ensure that he didn't attempt to use it - and his stomach, though while tender and sensitive to touch, didn't really bother him at all after the initial queasiness and pain; deep breaths could still be troublesome but for the most part, Hank didn't notice them. No, since he now spent a small part of his time forcing the injured wrist and hand to help support him, that was the only thing causing him pain lately. Granted, the fact that he'd stopped using the wrist brace whenever anyone was around wasn't helping with that fact but he couldn't very well keep it on and use the crutches either and Hank craved independence like a drunk that needed alcohol.

Overall the day hadn't been so bad. After meeting and interviewing - or interrogating as Divya had put it - Doctor Montgomery, he and Divya had had a nice chat. Her advice had been welcomed and helpful and talking through everything with her had helped him to realize that although there may be obstacles, the bottom line was that he did have feelings for Boris and that Hank could - in time - see himself acting on them.

But it was those obstacles that gave him pause. They had his mind wandering far passed where the guesthouse was or where the Hamptons lay or even anywhere in the US. It had seemed to roam all of the galaxy as he had tried to reconcile himself to the possibility of compromising his morals in order to make anything with Boris possible. He'd vaguely heard Divya leave, and he even believed that he'd at least said goodbye to her but his heart hadn't been in either and he hoped that she hadn't noticed it.

The rest of the day had been a blur. Hank had spent the entirety of it simply thinking and trying to come up with ways to make a relationship with Boris work and so far he hadn't been very successful. He'd taken a very careful bath, complete with the tools to help him in and out of it, in hopes of letting his mind relax. But now that he sat on the bed, he was still coming up with nothing and as far as he - and probably Boris - was concerned, that wasn't acceptable.

Getting frustrated again, Hank decided to do something else in hopes of distracting himself. Something more productive would be a good idea. Looking around to locate his laptop, Hank sighed when saw it laying on the coffee table across the room. He was almost tempted to simply leave it there, but he did have some work to do and both he and Divya had decided that it might be a good idea for him to email their patients, to alert them to the fact that Doctor Montgomery would be covering for Hank for the foreseeable future. By the time that he had made it over to the couch, Hank had discovered another potential problem. How was he to carry his laptop from the table over to the bed? He hadn't thought of that and in fact it was the reason why his computer was still on the table. So, instead of grabbing the laptop and heading back over to the bed, he plopped down on the couch, giving a wince as his knee grumbled about the movement.

He'd just turned the computer on when there came a very decisive knock on his door. Knowing that knock very well, Hank smiled. "Come on in, Boris."

The German came in, looking the same relaxed person who had walked in very early this morning. He wore khakis and a mint-green button-down with the sleeves rolled partially up. His hands were in his pockets and his shoulders were back, lending his posture an air of nonchalance while still managing to appear regal. He smiled as he walked in, his blue eyes twinkling with happiness.

"It's good to see you not in the bed, Hank," he greeted in observation.

"Yeah, I figured it was time to give the mattress a break," Hank said, returning his smile with ease and chuckling a little.

Now that he knew how he felt, Hank felt a little unsure of himself around Boris. It wasn't that he was shy. It was more that he wasn't sure how to proceed. Should he simply come out and say something? Or should he try to be sly about it? Not that Hank could do sly, really; it usually turned out to be a form of dork. But, hey, Hank always liked a challenge.

Boris walked over to join him, his eyes never leaving Hank even to maneuver around the furniture. In spite of his relaxed posture, he still moved stiffly and Hank wished he could doctor the nobelman into taking care of himself. He actually opened his mouth to say something but, figuring it would - once again - fall on deaf ears, he stopped. He and Boris had other things to talk about and if the man saw no need to take care of himself then Hank would be momentarily content to leave it at that.

"What's bothering you Hank?" Boris asked, settling into the armchair. His expression hadn't changed but Hank could tell that Boris was more intently focused on him than when he'd first entered.

"Nothing," Hank replied after taking a moment to think about his response. He knew that Boris knew that he was lying, but why he was lying, Hank wasn't sure. It was a normal reflex when it came to anything personal concerning him - especially if the question was coming from Boris. Although the attraction was definitely there between the two men, there wasn't as much trust as Hank would have liked going into a new relationship. In fact, there was a lot of suspicion on Hank's side and he wasn't sure how to build up more trust.

He understood Boris' need for privacy and, yes, even secrets. To a degree he even agreed with it. But there were lines and he wasn't sure if Boris could distinguish between them or abide by them. Boris believed that, with his crazy and unrealistic rules, he was protecting Hank. Though Hank couldn't prove it, he had a suspicion that Boris was very protective of him, meaning that expecting Boris to give up or be more lenient of those restrictions wouldn't be an option to the man.

The old saying "Trust has to be earned" rang through Hank's head and he held back a sardonic smirk as he thought of it.

Boris continued to watch him, not replying or acknowledging Hank's response. His steady gaze would have made a lesser man squirm. Thankfully, Hank was not a lesser man and he remained inert while returning the German's unflinching stare.

Sharp pain pounded through his head, making him close his eyes and give a groan of, "Mmm".

"Hank? Are you alright?" Boris asked, his voice relaying his concern.

"Yeah, sorry," Hank answered, opening his eyes and blinking rapidly to try and clear the pain. "Just a headache."

"Is it a side effect from the concussion?"

Hank shook his head no, wincing when that didn't help. "No, I, um, I've been working on the laptop most of the day and that can give me a headache."

Actually, Hank suspected that it was really stress from his worry over how to resolve the Boris situation as well as attempting to still run HankMed while injured but Boris didn't need to know that. Besides, what he'd said wasn't necessarily a lie since straining his eyes by working on the computer can give him a headache.

He waited a few more seconds for the sharpness of the pain to recede to something more blunt before he removed his hands from his head and returned his full attention on Boris. The man was watching him with concealed concern but he had made no move to attempt to ease Hank's discomfort, which Hank was thankful for.

"So, it looks like I'll be able to return to the guesthouse tomorrow."

Okay, that hadn't been what he'd wanted to say, at all. Hank had never thought of himself as a chicken but this instance right here, proved that he was, on some level at least. He had very much intended to mention his feelings for Boris but something was still holding him back.

Boris' expression never changed but there was a hesitation in his posture that made Hank slightly cock his head to the side as he observed it.

"Are you sure that you are..ready?"

"Yeah, I'm fairly certain," Hank answered with an assuring smile. When Boris continued to stare evenly at him, he chuckled. What was going on? Did Boris not want him to leave? "I'm fine..ish."

"I'm not so sure that Ms. Kadare would agree."

"Would agree to what?"

Both men swung towards the entrance to the room. While Boris barely showed any emotion, Hank's eyes had widened in surprise and his heart had managed to speed up a little. Out of the corner of his eye, Hank saw the corner of Boris' eye scrunch, evidently the only reaction he would give and the only expression of any pain he still felt.

"To me going back home," Hank answered with a smile. He settled back into the couch and tried to look as fine as he had felt earlier this evening. Pain still throbbed dully in the back of his skull but now it was ignorable.

Divya's brows wrinkled, more than likely in concern, and she walked further into the room to join them in the sitting area. "And are you sure that you're ready?" she asked cautiously. "I mean, you are becoming more mobile, yes, but you've only been moving around this room."

"Divya, the main floor of the guesthouse isn't much bigger than this room," Hank countered. He paused to wait for another argument from her and when he didn't get one, he added, "Unless there's another reason why you don't want me to go back?"

Ever since Divya had come in, Boris had remained quiet. Now he shifted and stood up. "I believe this would be better discussed between the two of you," he said. He looked down at Hank. "I will see you in the morning, Hank."

Again with the tripping over Hank's name - what was with that?

"Yeah," Hank said, brushing aside his slowly growing annoyance and giving a smile. "See you then."

oOo

"Hank-"

"Why don't you want me to go home?"

Divya paused, a little taken aback by his abruptness and interruption. She didn't want to tell him the truth but she couldn't lie to Hank either. And she could tell by the hard look on his face that she wasn't going to be able to wiggle her way out of it no matter how much she wished she could.

"For one, I'm worried about you traipsing across the lawn on crutches," she admitted, although they could probably find a way around that one. She knew that HankMed had a wheelchair they could use, she just didn't necessarily want to fight with Hank to get him in it. "And for another," she continued when his gaze didn't waver, "your father''s staying at the guesthouse."

Hank was stunned. That much was plain to see. As were the tears that glistened in his hazel eyes. "He's what?"

"Evan found your father living in his rental car and invited him to live at the guesthouse," she explained.

"I guess I am replaceable."

The way he emphasized the word 'am' made it sound as though he'd been trying to convince himself of the opposite and at this moment, he could no longer do so. It broke her heart to hear because there were many words that she could use to describe Hank Lawson but 'replaceable ' wasn't one of them.

She leaned forward to capture all of his attention and grab his hand as well. "Hank, you are not replaceable. You were never Evan's father; only his brother. That role was assigned to Eddie thirty-something years ago. You may have tried to take over it when he left but Evan has only ever viewed you as a brother. And he loves you, Hank."

"I know," he said, offering her a halfhearted smile that never reached his eyes. "And I love him. But, my father.." He shrugged, evidently biting off whatever he had been about to say.

Divya understood his hesitation in forgiving his father. And she also knew that he didn't want to get in the way of Evan reconnecting with Eddie. Which was why she wasn't sure where he should stay. She didn't know if he wanted to handle living with his father again or if he still wanted more time. Would the price of that time be worth the sacrifice of his privacy by staying here, though? That was something only Hank could answer.

Rather than state it that way, Divya gave his hand a gentle squeeze, drawing Hank's attention back to her and the present. She wanted him to know that, whatever he decided, she would be there for him; even if she didn't like or agree with it. "Do you still want to go home?" she asked. "Because if you do then I will help you get there."

Hank's attention seemed to sharpen onto her but Divya sat still, patiently waiting for the doctor to make up his own mind. This was a decision that Hank, and Hank alone, could make.

oOo

When morning came, it greeted Hank with feelings of nervousness and trepidation. Although he had decided last night that it was time for him to go home and finally face his father, he wasn't all too sure that he was as ready as he was making everyone think he was. He could still feel a twitch in his arm, tempting him to punch his father again whenever he saw that smiling face in his mind's eye. It didn't bode well for his chances of living with Eddie again, but he had to try. His anger had had twenty years to blossom and bloom and now it was as vibrant as the sun; it was not time for it to be dimmed.

Hank was an adult and he recognized that he had to put this all behind him in one way or another. That didn't necessarily mean that he planned to forgive his father right away, if ever, but that did mean that he could try and get past it. How that was to be done, he hadn't a clue yet but there it was.

Deciding that it was time to get moving, Hank shifted. It was then that he realized how sore he still was. More than likely he tried to do too much yesterday but there was no way he was going to admit that to anyone nor was he going to apologize for having gained some little independence while he'd done so. Instead, he chose to ignore the discomfort in his stomach and wrist and kept moving, eventually getting himself onto the edge of the bed with his feet hanging over the end.

It was then that, in a seemingly cruel twist of fate, his phone rang. Hank hung his head in defeat and then laid flat to roll himself across the vast expanse of the bed. Granted it wasn't the best of plans as it only added to his pain when it put pressure on his tender knee but at least he was able to get to the phone in time before whomever it was hung up.

"Yeah," he said by way of answer just to get the thing to stop ringing. It was then that he actually checked the caller ID and then added, "What's up, Evan?"

"So Divya says that you're planning on coming home today," his brother said and Hank noted a tone of disbelief as well as curiosity in Evan's voice. But since he hadn't actually asked a question, Hank didn't feel the need to respond. When the silence stretched for about two more seconds, Evan asked, "Is it true?"

"Yeah, Ev, it's true. Why?"

Hank rolled onto his back, unable to stifle the groan that escaped him as the mattress absorbed his body into itself. His stay in this room had him thinking that he needed to replace the bed in his room back at the guesthouse because this bed was wonderfully comfortable. More so than his own.

"No reason," his brother brushed off a little too casually. "I'm just surprised that she didn't try to chase Dad off the property."

"So he is staying there," Hank said, wincing when he recognized the anger in his voice. He wasn't really that upset that his dad was staying at the guesthouse; truly. He may not like the man at the moment, but even Hank wasn't heartless enough to want him living in his rental car. It was simply that he couldn't dispel the feeling of betrayal that he got every time he thought of the situation and of Evan's involvement in it.

"Yeah, why wouldn't he be staying here?" Evan's tone suggested that he not only didn't understand the problem but that it also should have been obvious to Hank why Eddie R was staying on property.

"Because, Evan, at best he's a scam artist and at worst, he's a parasite who only wants to live with us now because we have money and a good place to live."

At first Hank was ashamed that he'd actually said that out loud but the more he thought about it, but the more that feeling lessened and lessened. Simply put, it was the truth, at least from Hank's point of view and if his brother wanted to remain ignorant or blind to their father's faults, it wasn't going to be because Hank hadn't tried. Yes, he wanted Evan to never truly see Eddie R the way that Hank did but he wanted him to partially see it. If for no other reason than that he didn't want his little brother to be duped when Eddie R took off again.

"Henry, when are you going to realize that he's not like that anymore? That he's changed?"

The utter disappointment Hank heard in his brother's voice hurt more than he'd like to admit. There was a hint of anger in there as well but it was the disappointment that Hank heard the most.

"I don't know," Hank admitted, hoping that he hid the pain he felt. "But it will take a lot more than a check and some fancy words to change my mind."

"You do know that you're not Dad, right?" Okay, that came out of the blue. And it threw Hank for a moment. He wasn't able to discern what, precisely, Evan meant, and so he remained silent, waiting for him to finish his thought. "I know that you tried to be. For me. For Mom. But to me, you never were. You were my big brother, for sure, but you never filled the hole that Dad left."

Up until this point, there were many things that had been said between them that had caused problems, that had caused pain to one brother or the other. But this, this one took the figurative cake for Hank. He actually felt physical pain from that comment and he wiped at a tear that threatened to fall.

Hank knew that he couldn't replace Eddie in Evan's life. Not truly. But he had tried so very hard to do it. He'd tried to not only be the big brother but the father, the caretaker that both Evan and Mom had needed, as well as the breadwinner once he'd been able to get a job. He'd tried to hold the family together and give Evan a childhood. Just because Hank had had to grow up fast didn't mean that he ever wanted that for his baby brother.

And now, hearing those words, Hank couldn't tell if Evan was trying to say that Hank had failed or that he couldn't ever come close to replacing Eddie R in Evan's eyes. Either way Hank spun it, the statement hurt. A lot.

"But now that Eddie's here," Evan continued, unaware of the effect his words were having, " we get a chance to have a father again."

"I'm sorry, Ev," Hank said, his voice unforgiving and wavering from emotion at the same time. "But the time when I wanted a father in my life has long past." There was a long pause where neither of them knew what to say and then Hank sighed. "Look, I'll be back home sometime after noon. I'll see you then."

Hank hung up before another word could be uttered from his brother. For the moment there was nothing more for them to say. Hank needed time to process and accept what Evan had said and since trying to convince his brother to see his side of things was a waste of time, Hank didn't see the point in prolonging the conversation.

When he tossed his phone onto the bed, feeling hopeless and hurt, Hank finally noticed the shadow in the doorway.

OoO

Diva hadn't meant to listen in, she really hadn't. In fact, she'd had every intention of drawing his attention to her, to make him notice her. But something in the way he had reacted to whomever was on the phone had told her that it was Evan and since she wasn't good at letting things lie, she decided that she'd simply wait out the conversation and try to use whatever she discovered against the younger Lawson later (if need be).

It hadn't taken long for Hank to go from exasperated with his little brother to looking almost stricken. All at once he seemed to freeze. She watched as his breathing increased and tears form in his eyes and it had taken all she'd had not to run to him, to try and comfort him if she could. With furrowed brows he wiped the tear in his right eye away and then she watched as his hand moved to his heart where he began to idly rub at the place where it rested.

To see him hurting like this was hard for Divya. And so, when he'd hung up and dejectedly tossed his phone aside, Divya had waited only long enough for him to notice her before she walked to the bed and sat down.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her brows furrowed in concern and her voice reflecting it, though it probably sounded like pity to Hank's ears.

Hank gave her a poor excuse for a smile and she knew that her expression changed more when she saw the pain in his eyes. But still, he tried to lie to her. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just Evan being Evan." Divya wanted more than anything to contradict him but he didn't give her the chance. No sooner had he spoken those false assurances than he added, "I though you and Doctor Montgomery were doing some rounds this morning to introduce her to some of the patients."

"We are. She's waiting outside in the car while I came to check on you." He cocked his head to the side, silently asking her why and she smiled. "I wanted to make sure that you hadn't come to your senses and decided that crutching your way across Shadow Pond wasn't a good idea after all."

"Ah," he said, looking almost relieved, "sorry. Haven't come to my senses."

"I hadn't thought so, but I just wanted to check and make sure." She paused a moment and then added, "Hank, I know that you want to go back to the guesthouse and be in your own space but, I really don't think it's a good idea." He seemed to straighten as though he was expecting to have to fight to get his way but she held up a hand to forestall him. "I'm not saying that I won't help you get down there. I told you that I would and I meant it, but I just really want to make sure that you are truly ready for this."

She hoped that he understood that she meant both physically and emotionally but she couldn't be sure. He seemed to turn more serious, which led her to believe that he'd gotten it in some small form but what he was thinking she couldn't tell. There were times when he was extremely good at hiding what he was thinking and feeling and he was choosing to employ that now.

Knowing that she had pushed far enough for one morning, she gave his hand a squeeze (it was as much of a hug as she was willing to risk at the moment) then she got up.

"I should go," she said, stating the obvious. "Call me if you need anything. I'm more than capable of handling Evan if need be."

He smiled at that. "Thanks Divya. I'll let you know if I need a protector."

They both knew that he wouldn't do it but she smiled back at him anyways. She left, choosing not to say anything else since she didn't know what to say. Besides, she had a busy morning to get started on.

oOo

Boris waited until Ms. Katdare left before he went to Hank's room and knocked on the door. He waited until he heard Hank bid him enter and then he opened the door. Whatever had happened while Hank's physician assistant had been there was still written all over Hank's face. Pain - whether physical or emotional, Boris could not discern - had settled into Hank's features, making him look tired and drained. It dulled Hank's normally vibrant eyes and it brought in to focus the little weight the doctor had lost during his stay.

Although Boris knew that Divya wouldn't hurt Hank for the world, he still felt his anger rising towards the young woman, instantly blaming her for what he saw in his private physician. Perhaps she had conducted a physical examination that had woken the pain in Hank's injuries? Or had something else happened.

"Are you alright, Hank?" he asked, unable to hide his concern.

His doctor tried to smile but it was poorly done and not even worth calling an effort. "I'm fine," Hank replied.

Something in the other man's voice told Boris that the subject should be dropped but Boris could not let it go. "Has something happened with your father?" he countered, stepping further into the room and coming to sit in one of the armchairs across from the bed. Hank's spine straightened and the corners of his eyes pinched. But he did not answer, so Boris continued instead. "He is the only one so far who has been able to upset you this much." He paused and then added. "Him or your brother, Evan."

Hank gave a small smile. "Evan would be almost proud that you remembered his name," he commented while not answering Boris' question.

Boris smirked as well. "I have always known your brother's name, Hank, I simply chose not to use it." He waited a little but when Hank didn't say anything more, he asked, "Are you sure that you are ready to return to the guesthouse?"

Fire finally came to Hank's eyes and Boris worked to stifle a smile at seeing it.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Hank burst out, clearly forgetting to reign in his temper. It was only a small spark of, what Boris was positive was, an atomic bomb but it was enough that Boris was pleased. Allowing Hank to bottle things up did no good for anyone, especially the doctor.

"Because we know how you feel towards your father and we are not sure that it will be good for your recovery should you force yourself into a stressful situation simply because you are feeling..less than comfortable in my home." Boris held up a hand when Hank looked about to argue. "I realize, Hank, that this room is, indeed, very comfortable but I also know that you prefer your independence. But would it be advisable for you to sacrifice an environment that is better for you simply so that you may feel like you did before you were injured? Or would you, as a doctor, recommend that your patient remain where they were so that they may continue to heal?"

For a moment, Boris had believed that Hank would argue. But then, the steel in his doctor's spine melted and the man appeared to deflate right in front of him. He didn't concede right away. Instead, he chose to remain quiet and think things over, clearly trying to see the situation from an unbiased position rather than his rather emotional one.

While he waited, Boris surveyed the room. The tray which Dieter had brought for Hank's breakfast still remained and Boris was unhappy to note that the doctor hadn't eaten anything from it. The eggs, which Boris liked to eat every morning, remained untouched and cold, and the fruit - a collection of small pears, plums, and strawberries - continued to sit in their bowls.

Boris had known from the beginning that Hank wasn't really eating. At first he had believed it to be the result of Hank's injuries, the pain from them making the doctor lose his appetite. But as Hank began to get more mobile, he still didn't really eat and that worried Boris. Perhaps the doctor was more stressed here than he was letting on? If so, that bothered Boris more than he wanted to admit.

"I honestly don't now, Boris," Hank answered at length.

Fair enough, Boris silently granted. "I am not sure if it helps or not, but I would rather you not go back to the guesthouse just yet."

Hank's answering stare was..confusing. There was a hint of defiance in it, as though he planned to automatically say no. But then, something else came over his face and his features softened a little, making him look grateful rather than offended. It eased Boris' rapidly beating heart to see that Hank might actually consider staying but not by much.

When nothing else was said, Boris stood, not missing the way that Hank's right hand ever so slightly moved, as though the doctor wanted to stop him from leaving. "Well, I will leave you to your devices," he said, buttoning up his charcoal-colored suit jacket. "Should you decide to stay, you are more than welcome. Some accommodations might even be made so that you are able to more around more freely throughout the house. However, if you decide that you truly want to go back, you are, of course, free to do that as well. Either way, I will help in any way that I can."

He left without letting Hank say another word. Some might have called it a hasty retreat, and Boris wouldn't have argued, but his nerves were a little frayed and he hadn't wanted to expose more than he ought. He then immersed himself in his work, impatiently waiting for word from his doctor, all the while wondering what Hank's decision would be.

TBC