I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to update this story. I promise you that I have not forgotten about it. I am still working on it, if slowly, and I promise I will not abandon this one.

Apologies for the short chapter, but I wanted to get this one out to all of you to reward you for your patience and loyalty. Hope you enjoy it!

M

After Divya left, Hank continued to sit on the couch and let his mind wander. Outside the storm raged on, albeit with less strength, but Hank didn't pay attention to it. Much as he didn't want to, he continued to think about the day's events. On some level he knew that he had overstepped during his conversation with his father and, therefore, that the man's reaction was in to some respect..not necessarily justified, but certainly understandable. While the things he had said were true, they had also been calculated to hurt. In truth, Hank hadn't expected his father to react quite so violently to them; Eddie R. Lawson was many things, but a physical man was not one of them. His hand went to his face, rubbing the spot that had stung for a good twenty minutes after his father had left. He knew he needed to let things go, to move on. The trouble was that was easier said than done.

oOo

Come the morning, Evan sat at the counter, idly snacking on the Fruity O's cereal in his bowl. His mind wasn't focused on the here and now in the least. Instead, he kept thinking about Hank and the rocky relationship that he had with their father. There had to be a way to get the two to spend more than an hour together without something happening! The trouble was that he wasn't sure that Hank would be willing to try after what had happened yesterday.

Evan still wasn't sure how he felt about what went down between his brother and father. On the one hand he was angry with Hank for what he had said. Evan knew that his brother had spent the past twenty years being pissed at their father, but he hadn't known the full extent of it until Eddie R. had reappeared in their lives. He also knew that Hank had a sharp tongue and that he could flay a person with it when he wanted to. His older brother usually kept his temper under wraps, but when he let it fly, it did so quite easily. All in all, it didn't surprise him in the least that Hank had used it against their father. Eddie R.'s reaction, on the other hand had surprised him immensely. All throughout their childhood, Evan could never remember his father being physically abusive - to anyone; it simply wasn't his style. So the fact that he'd hit Hank was shocking. It also made Evan angry, which had eventually led to him not speaking to his father for the rest of the night.

Outside, the rising sun began to shine into the main floor of the guesthouse. Sometime during the night the storm had broken and it now appeared to be clearing entirely. The wind still spoke of a cool day dawning, but otherwise it promised to be a fairly enjoyable one. Finishing up with his cereal, Evan cleaned the bowl and spoon and then put them away. With that done, he went upstairs to get dressed then grabbed his phone. He was pleased that it wasn't going to be another rainy day because he had a house-call to make.

oOo

Dieter left immediately after showing Evan where to go. Evidently, Hank was in the library rather than his room; who knew? Not that it was surprising a house like this had a library; it was more that Hank tended to lick his wounds in private rather than public. Which wasn't to say that Hank was physically hurt, well beyond the injuries he'd suffered from the attack, but Evan was sure there were wounds that no one could see. He stood just outside the doorway, trying to gather up his nerve to go in. Although he'd come here with the specific intent of talking with his brother, now that it came to it, Evan wasn't sure what he was going to say. Walking in, he found his brother sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the fire, feet resting on the ottoman before it, reading what appeared to be a patient's file. He looked so completely and utterly relaxed that it made Evan start for a moment in shock.

Shrugging that off, he entered with what he hoped was his usual swagger. "Please tell me that you aren't actually working," he said by way of announcing himself as he walked into the room and sat in the only other armchair available. Though the day was sunny and bright, it was chill and the warmth of the fire felt good. Fall had definitely come to The Hamptons. "Dude, you're on sick leave. That means that you don't have to do any work for the foreseeable future."

"Technically, I'm working part time at HankMed," Hank corrected him, "so I'm allowed to do some work without a comment from the peanut gallery." Even so, he put the file down and focused on Evan.

Although Evan hadn't expected there to be, he was still profoundly glad that there wasn't a mark on Henry's face, showing where their father had hit him. It not only made forgiving their dad easier, but it relieved his worry to know that no real damage had been done. He couldn't stop himself, however, from asking, "You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Hank returned with a small smile, looking only half confused. It was a look that he often gave when he was feigning ignorance and while normally Evan found it endearing, this time it simply made him a little frustrated.

"Come on, Dude," Evan said with a straight enough face to tell his brother how earnest he was being. There were very few moments in Evan's life where he chose to be this serious, most of which were not of his making actually, but this was the one time where he thought it necessary and so instigated it. "You know why."

Rather than answer right away, Hank eyed him warily, no doubt trying to decide what to reply and how much he knew. Hank's green eyes were hard, almost cold, as he said, "I'm fine, Ev."

"See, you say that, but I don't think you are. Cause people that are 'fine' don't move in with their landlord so they can avoid their father." Evan left out the part where it probably wasn't advisable for Hank to attempt traipsing across the lawns on crutches since he knew that his brother could and would find a way to get home if he really wanted to.

"You're right," Hank granted in a tone which said that he wouldn't change his mind anytime soon. "I just need some time, Ev. Something that I'm pretty sure I've told you at least once before."

"Isn't it harder to work through things if you can ignore them altogether?" Evan countered, pushing while ignoring his brother's frustration at not being left alone. "You aren't usually one to run away from your problems, Henry, but here you are, hiding in Boris' library rather than sitting down and talking to Dad."

"The last time we talked, it didn't go so well," his brother retorted in what could only be described as a dryly peevish tone.

"Then maybe you should just sit and let him do the talking," Evan answered, refusing to be baited into giving up. "I get that you're pissed at him, but I also know that my family feels broken and I never thought that I would have to go through that again." Low blow, but true. "And you can't blame that all on Dad," he interjected, stalling Hank when the doctor had opened his mouth, "because he's not the one breaking it apart this time, Henry. You are."

As hurt blanketed his brother's features, Evan inwardly winced. Yeah, he could have found a better way to say that. Then again, was there a gentler way of putting it while still getting his point across? He honestly wasn't sure there was. Much as he hated that look on Hank's face, he knew of no other way to drive his point home.

Hank blinked as tears began to fill his eyes and then looked away, probably in hopes of hiding them from Evan. He was silent for a long time, and though it made Evan uncomfortable to be quiet for any length of time, he knew that it was necessary in this case. Hank was never one to be pushed into something - not counting when Evan almost literally pushed him out the door and brought him to the Hamptons, of course. No, he had to be allowed time to sit and chew things over, to think through them as much as possible and from as many different angles as he could see.

While he waited, Evan sat back, easing into the softness of the armchair and letting it absorb him in its comforting embrace. The fire which had felt good was now beginning to feel a bit warm and so he tried to get out of its path as much as was possible. Once settled, he went back to watching his brother. Normally he would have tried to do so surreptitiously but as Hank was too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice his brother staring at him, Evan didn't even try to do that this time.

Ever since noticing Evan, Hank had slowly begun to shift so that he could face his brother. Since the armchairs were more side-by-side than across from one another so that they both could face the fire, it meant that he had moved so that he was on the edge of the seat with the files on the ottoman and his injured leg stretched out before him while his other was tucked under him. Hank's torso was slightly twisted so that he could face the fire more so than Evan, but his left arm still remained on the arm of the chair. For the most part, Hank's hand made idle movements, fiddling with whatever it found to keep it busy. But every once in a while, Evan noticed his brother clenching it into a fist. Whatever he was thinking, they definitely weren't happy thoughts.

"I've got an idea," Evan said when he could no longer stand the silence. "Why don't you join Dad and I for dinner tonight? We could do it at the guesthouse so there's medical supplies in case you feel like punching him again. Not that you would, I mean. Or you might, you've been pretty unpredictable when it comes to Eddie R. lately."

The longer he talked the more intense Hank's focus was on him. It made him want to squirm a little. Instead, Evan settled for rambling which he then promptly stopped before he dug himself into a hole he couldn't get out of. While he wouldn't describe Hank's expression as warming to the idea, he certainly would say that his brother didn't appear to be wholly against it either. "How about tomorrow night?" Hank suggested. "That should give the ground time to firm up a little so that I can get over there easier."

As excuses go, it wasn't a bad one, but even so, Evan could see it for what it was - Hank was stalling as long as he possibly could. Since Evan couldn't think of a reason against Hank's proposal, he agreed to it. "Yeah, okay. Let me know what you wanna eat so I can go shopping for it. We have practically no food in at the moment. Man, I never realized how much Dad could eat!"

"And I'm sure that it's only Dad eating all the food," Hank answered, raking his eyes up and down Evan as he talked. "I'm sure that you have eaten hardly anything."

Evan frowned, looking down at himself to make sure that his manly figure wasn't marred by any possible excess of food. When he looked back up to find Hank smirking at him, he said, "Not cool, dude." Hank chuckled, the first time Evan had heard him do since their father had come, making Evan smile in return. "Alright, see you tomorrow. I love you."

"I sorta like you," was Hank's response but as Evan was already mostly out of the room by the time he heard it, he ignored it and kept on walking. He was glad that that was settled. Now all he had to do was worry about making the meal fabulous - not a big worry in the grand scheme of things given his cooking skills - and making sure that neither Hank nor Eddie R. killed each other during the meal. No problem, right?

oOo

Boris waited until after the younger Lawson brother left before he ventured out of his upper-floor office to where he knew Hank had taken refuge. He couldn't fault his doctor for his choice; as far as rooms for solitude and comfort go, the library was quite exquisite. Unlike many of the rooms in his home, the library was comfortable as well as stylish, making it the room in which Hank was most likely to find peace when not in his own quarters.

Although he had every intention of seeing his doctor, Boris wasn't actually sure what he would talk about. He simply wished to see Hank. Perhaps even kiss him some more. Last night had been…more than he had expected. He certainly wasn't complaining about it as it had been a wonderful experience.

The first kiss had been born out of reaction more than anything, and he had made sure to keep it gentle in case Hank didn't wish for it. When the doctor had kissed him back, however, Boris had thrown half of his restraint to the wind and had given what he believed to be the proper amount of passion to it from then on. When the thunder had rumbled, Boris had taken the opportunity to make sure that Hank wanted what he did. Hank's behavior over the past few days began to make sense the more his doctor talked, but he hardly paid attention to that as his heart began to fly away out of joy. Ms. Katdare's arrival had been ill timed as far as he was concerned, but he had left graciously because there was little he could have done otherwise, so he went to his own rooms and proceeded to think of nothing but Hank and their kisses until sleep had claimed him for its own.

Before walking fully into the library, Boris remained in the doorway, watching Hank while his doctor was still unaware of his presence. Hank looked troubled. His gaze was distant as he stared into the fire, his expression serious and unseeing. He blinked out of instinct rather than awareness, and though Boris thought he could see a tear fall, he didn't move. On the arm of the chair, Hank's left hand kept forming a fist then releasing it, the action seeming born of his thoughts as well as habit. Folders lay strewn on the ottoman in front of Hank, abandoned and forgotten, a couple having fallen to the floor without Hank noticing.

As much as Boris wished to make sure that all was well with his doctor, he remained in the doorway. Even though Hank was living with him, he often felt as though he were intruding on Hank whenever he visited. He didn't like the feeling, and he was fairly certain that Hank didn't think of things in the same way, but he wasn't entirely sure what could be done either.

He watched his doctor for another few minutes before he gave up being a statue in the doorway and walked into his library. "Are you well, Hank?" he asked by way of announcing his arrival.

Hank started, the action minuscule but noticeable to Boris, his eyes widening slightly in alarm and his mouth parting just a little. After seeing who had come in, Hank relaxed and offered a smile that didn't quite reach his hazel eyes. "Boris," he greeted. "Sorry, I was off in my own world. What did you say?"

"I hope this world in which you had escaped was pleasant?" Boris said as he turned the armchair so that he was facing Hank rather than the fire, then sat down.

Now that Hank wasn't lost in his own thoughts, he seemed cheerful enough. Even so, Boris knew that, for the moment, it was an act. He wished he could help. But not only did he know that Hank wouldn't allow it, he also knew there was little he could do. When it came to family matters, and more importantly matters of the heart, outside influence often made things worse. No, whatever it was that was troubling his doctor, Hank had to be the one to solve it.

"Not really, no," Hank affirmed, surprising Boris with his honesty and little else. "Was there something you needed?"

Boris raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware that I needed to have a reason to come see you," he playfully challenged, making Hank blush.

"No, of course you don't," his doctor assured, fidgeting a little. "Sorry," he said, the sentence dropping off rather than being finished. It was clear that he couldn't decide how to phrase what he was apologizing for, but Boris didn't really need any clarification. He understood what his doctor was trying to say and he smiled ever so slightly to let him know it. Hank's brows wrinkled then he said, "Hey, I'm feeling a little stir-crazy. Do you want to join me in a walk outside?"

"Are you quite sure that you should?" Boris countered. Though he didn't mind walking about his grounds, he wasn't so sure that Hank should be doing so. "The ground is quite soft after yesterday's storm."

"I wasn't thinking of going onto the grass," Hank assured. "The paths out in the gardens would work, though."

Boris thought about pointing out that traveling those paths would bring Hank close to the guesthouse, and his father, but after catching a look in the other man's eye, he kept his peace. Much as the offer had been said offhand, it was easy to see that Hank truly was going stir-crazy inside the mansion and needed to get out for a bit. "You should grab a jacket," he suggested. "I've been told that it is quite chill outside."

"The same could be said for you as well," Hank answered as he began to gather his files into stackable piles.

"I will have Dieter deliver those to your rooms," Boris assured as he stood up. "Come."

Hank hesitated for just a moment before he said, "Thanks, but I've got it." He pulled a messenger bag which had been hidden on the other side of the armchair onto his lap and began to put the files inside it. When that was done, he slipped the strap over his head so that it crossed his body then grabbed his crutches and got up.

"Shall I will meet you outside in five minutes?" Boris said once he was certain that Hank could handle his load as well as himself.

Hank hesitated a moment, no doubt calculating how long it would take him to get back to his rooms, drop his things off, then meet with Boris. "Better make it ten," he answered after a minute.

Boris allowed Hank to precede him out the door, making sure to follow closely enough that he would be useful should the doctor fall while also keeping his distance. "I will see you in ten, then," he confirmed as Hank pivoted towards his rooms.

"Don't forget a jacket!" the doctor called back as they both headed in their respective directions.

Boris chuckled but let silence fall. He didn't need a jacket; he would be warm enough with his sport coat on. Somehow he doubted that he would be able to make his doctor believe that, but it mattered little. Hank knew what battles to pick and which to leave alone. Chances were low that he would bring it up when they met up again.

"Sir," Dieter quietly interjected once Hank was out of earshot. "There's a phone call from Germany for you."

Boris silently sighed. "Please tell Doctor Lawson that I will be late for our walk, but that I will join him when I can." Although he wasn't entirely sure who was on the line, Boris doubted the conversation would be brief. Which wasn't to say that he wouldn't cut the call short if it ran too long, but he knew it would make him late all the same. He waited for the butler, who gave a small bow of assent, to do as he was instructed before he climbed the stairs to his office, sat in the chair, and picked up the phone. "'Allo."

"Boris!"

Boris winced as his cousin, Freida, yelled his name into the phone. She sounded happy to speak with him, but he knew it was only because she wanted something from him. Unfortunately, she rarely got right to the point. He would definitely be late for his outing with Hank. While Freida began to gossip about others of the family, Boris began counting down until he would abruptly need to get off the phone for another matter. Nine minutes, thirty-two seconds to go.

TBC