Chapter 11

Alan sat with Don each day. Each day he talked to him. Asked, begged him to pull through. He found himself being shoved quickly out of the room almost every day, the last thing he would hear from the room was that retched flat line. So far, the doctors would come out and say they'd successfully revived Don. By the third day he'd run out of words to say as well as the strength to say them. He sat, holding what little of his son's hand he could, watching over him protectively. He knew that rules were being broken for every minute he was there; the visiting hours had been over long ago. He also knew that no one expected Don to survive. He had to admit that deep in the darkest and coldest part of his heart, he thought the same. One day, the fourth day, he got fed up and asked the doctor what the odds were that Don would live. The doctor had said that his chances had greatly improved. Alan wouldn't let him skate around the answer to the question. The doctor gave in to his demands. It was 10, 10 chance that his son would live. He had inquired what it had been before the odds had 'greatly improved'; he found that when Don had been admitted four days ago, he'd been less than 1 chance of survival. The numbers crushed him and he stopped asking questions and never spoke again until a couple of days later.

One day, he didn't know which; he'd been told that Megan was going to be released that day. He went to go visit her. He needed to see someone he knew that was alive, that could breathe independently. When he came in Megan was already dressed and about to head out the door of her room. He smiled at her weakly. She asked about everything that had happened. Apparently everyone had been so busy trying to track down Charlie and the culprits that they forgot to tell her what had happened at the bust. After the explanation she joined him to sit with Don. She may have been released, but the director had made sure she couldn't come back to work until she was ready for field work. When she'd walked in, Alan had heard her whisper under her breath.

"Oh Don" That was all she'd said as she sat with him in silence. Throughout the time they were there nurses and doctors would come in, checking vitals, injecting his son with something, or putting up a full bag of blood for his transfusions. It seemed to him, no matter how much blood they put back into his son, Don was always just as deathly pale as before. It sickened him. Why couldn't his son improved visibly. He constantly had to trust that his son was getting better, or at least his chances of living were improving, slowly. Every now and then, an agent or two that he didn't know would come to see how Don was doing. According to Megan, all of the agents back at the office had heard of Don's condition and what had happened during his rescue, and had been enraged. All current cases that had been going on had been shifted to other agencies or locations. The entire office was working towards Charlie's rescue. They'd also insisted on putting together a collection pot to help out with the up coming medical bills that would need paying when Don recovered. No one was accepting that overwhelming chance that Don would die. Hearing this had rekindled Alan with hope, though it was still very small.

The first time she'd seen Don flat-line, Megan had barely been able to hold back the tears. Then when Alan had told her that Don had done that almost every day, sometimes several times in one day, she'd had to flee to the restroom so he wouldn't see her cry. She'd known all along how close to death Don had been, but hearing that awful screech of the machines when he flat-lined had brought reality crashing down around her. It hadn't really been a reality until now, just some distant possibility. She waited until she had control of her emotions and had erased any signs of crying before she returned. Relief overwhelmed her when she found Don still alive, if that is what you would call the way he existed right now. She sat down next to Alan again. At some point in time she offered him coffee and dinner, to be brought to him of course, but he refused. She didn't push him. She knew she would have to make him eat eventually, but not yet, now he needed to be with Don and not focusing on himself. By the time she got home that night it was midnight. She was starved and exhausted. She found leftovers in the fridge and took a shower before crawling into bed. She found herself lying in her bed, staring up at her popcorn ceiling, praying for Don to live through the night. They spent day after day stuck in this rut of a routine. She would wake to find Alan sitting next to Don, looking as if he hadn't slept. Don would flat line and she would run out of the room and cry, returning to find Don still alive and Alan sitting beside him, holding his hand, looking older with each day.

She was just beginning to think that the days were repeating and they hadn't actually progressed a single day in time, when events took a turn for the worst. She was just walking to Don's room. She found Alan standing outside the door, looking far older and wearier than she'd ever seen him before. She figured that if Alan was outside the room it meant Don had flat-lined and they wouldn't let him in yet. She came to join his wait when he simply collapsed. She called for paramedics. They rushed him away and she found herself in the waiting room. A doctor came out and told her that he'd collapsed from exhaustion and that he probably hadn't had anything to eat or drink in days. They were going to keep him admitted until he had eaten three square meals for a couple of days and was well hydrated again. She went to see him and found him already arguing with the nurse about being released. She waited until they were done before coming entering. When he saw her he got all started up again and demanded to be let out. She took every word of it without flinching, and she didn't let him gain an inch. He was blowing hot air at her and she knew it, but it was a good sign that he wasn't giving in under the pressure of the possibility of losing both sons. Once he had run out of energy, she told him she was going to check on Don and she would let him know if anything changed. He never had a chance to respond before she was out the door. She called Colby and gave him and update then went to see Don. Then she went to see Don. He had dozens of bags of ice packed around and on him; his head was ever so slightly tossing back and forth. His entire body trembled and was covered in sheens of sweat, his eyes jumping around under his eyelids. The nurse was injecting something into his iv. She said that his fever had spiked and was holding steady and 105, and that they were concerned about him developing Septicemia.

She sat with him holding his hand, willing him to overcome the unbeatable odds. Charlie had said so often that nothing was impossible, just highly improbable. She hoped desperately that that was true. Don shivered endlessly underneath her hand, his heart rate rapid and irregular. She supposed she should be grateful it was beating at all. When the nurses told her she had to leave while they cleaned the wounds and re-bandaged them she went to check on Alan, he was asleep. She called Colby to see what was happening at the office. They were trying to identify the man that she'd shot but weren't having any luck yet. When she ended the phone call and went back to Don, they'd finished their work and were giving him another cocktail of medications. They had him so doped up with medications to combat the fever alone she didn't think he'd be able to see straight later, but then it must be helping. She realized that at some point she could hear him faintly moan with each artificial exhale. She picked up a damp cloth and wiped away the sweat hoping it would also help with the fever, though it didn't seem to. He looked as if he were trying to cough but the machine prevented it and kept him breathing steady. The water was icy against her skin, crushed ice floating like icebergs in the bowl of water. He moaned a little louder and tried to turn away from the cloth every time it touched his skin. The bag of water connected to an iv in Don's arm was forming condensation on the outside. After a while he quieted back into a fevered silence. He seemed far too still even with the constant tremble. She stayed with him for a few more hours than went back to check on Alan. He was again arguing with the nurse about eating dinner. He wanted to see his son. Megan updated him on Don's condition which only seemed to strengthen his resolve to just get up and walk away.

She waited until Alan had calmed before giving him the convincing argument that if he'd just cooperate and eat, sleep, and drink like a good boy he would see his son sooner. That was all it took and he was suddenly a complete angel for the staff. She left feeling a little more peace of mind knowing that Alan would now be on the road to recovery. She only wished it would be that easy with Don. She arrived at the office hoping for a sign of progress, she didn't get it. They'd discovered that the guy she shot was a John Doe. No identification, no history good or bad, and oddly enough, no birth certificate. Whoever had taken Charlie, had found a way to not only work under the radar, but not even exist. Her existence didn't change all that much during the next couple of weeks. She would drop by the office and check on the progress of the investigation and find nothing changed, and then she would visit Alan and Don. Alan had stayed in the hospital for a week before the staff agreed to discharge him. Larry and Amita watched over Alan through the weeks making sure he ate and slept as needed. Don never ceased to amaze everyone at the office. He continued to improve very slowly. He had his ups and downs. At one point his fever spiked dangerously to 107 but only for fifteen minutes thanks to the extremely hard work of the staff. After the longest two months in their lives they took Don off the ventilator and gave him an oxygen mask. He regained consciousness two weeks later.

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Alan sat with Don. His son was doing so much better than he'd been two months ago. The bruises were beginning to fade and now had a dull look about them instead of the fresh shiny sheen they'd had when they found him. He no longer had to use a machine to breathe but he still required an oxygen mask at some of the highest settings. Larry and Amita had stayed with him every day taking shifts so that they wouldn't miss too many classes. He knew that Megan had asked them to keep an eye on him and make sure he kept eating. She didn't want him to be hospitalized again. It was just that last time, he found out his son hadn't been given more than a ten percent chance of living and then he found out that even though the team had been so close to getting his youngest son back, they had failed. They had tried their best, Megan nearly died trying and other agent truly had given their life to get his son, but Charlie was gone, he'd lost Charlie. He hadn't been able to bring himself to eat or speak for days after, there was such a pain in his heart. Now he stood guard reverently over what was left of his family.

Alan's train of thought was interrupted when he heard Don moaned. He jumped up immediately hovering over the only son left to him. His head lolled slightly side to side and he could see his eyes jumping around slowly beneath his eyelids. He moaned again.

"Don, wake up son. Open your eyes for you old man now." Alan slipped his hand into his son's hand.

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Don felt the darkness begin to peel away. Everything was dark. Why is it so dark? He tried to open his eyes but they were so heavy. His head felt so heavy, everything felt heavy. Am I dead? He couldn't feel his own body, he was numb. He had this odd sense that he'd been gone for a long time, that years had gone by without him. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. He clawed at the darkness. He desperately wanted to wake up. He felt like he was floating towards the surface. He felt someone slip their hand into his. He tried to squeeze the hand, let them know he was there, but his fingers were so heavy. He could hear someone talking to him. Are they calling me? Who are they? He voice came closer, it was louder now. He dragged his eyes open painfully. He saw a blur of white all over with faint gray outlines but he couldn't tell of what. His vision cleared a little but not enough. He tried to think. Where am I? What happened? Why can't I move?

Suddenly waves of memory came crashing upon him. He remembered Charlie. He remembered his brother disappearing and then he disappeared. After that all he remembered was the pain. So much pain, he couldn't bare it, it had been so painful. Why was there so much pain? He couldn't remember why, just that he'd been in agony and he didn't remember anything after that. He felt the agony crash upon him just as hard as the memories had. Everything hurt, it was all agony. His body screamed at him from the pain. He panicked. He had to get away. They were standing over him.

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Alan felt overwhelming joy seeing Don's eyes open. His son's eyes lolled around his surroundings unfocused. He saw the confusion spread over his son's disoriented face. He moaned again. Alan stood over him, talking to him but he could tell his son didn't hear him. The terror that consumed his son next was instantaneous. He looked around frantically, squirming desperately on the bed trying to escape. Alan could hear him trying to say something but the words only came out as moans and grunts. His heart broke when he saw the tears fall swiftly from his eyes making streaks down to his ears. He was desperately trying to sit up but his arms would support his weight and he just couldn't get his muscles to coordinate with each other. Alan gently pressed a hand against his son's shoulder was scared at how easily he was able to subdue his son's struggles. He used one hand to keep his son lying down while he stroke Don's now long hair out of his eyes, rubbing his son's forehead. Talking to him, telling him that he was safe, to calm down, that he was here for him, and would again tell him that he was safe.

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Don felt the hand restraining him, pushing him down. He had to escape, he had to go home. He couldn't take anymore pain. They were just waiting to begin causing the pain again. The enjoyed it, they laughed at his weak struggles he was sure. He felt his body quitting on him. He couldn't keep fighting. He was so tired. He couldn't lift himself off the ground any longer; his body just wouldn't do it for him. The pain grew and started to overwhelm him. He felt terrified but he couldn't run. Then he felt a hand on his forehead, brushing the hair out of his eyes. When did I have long hair? Nothing made sense. The gesture was familiar. Who used to do that? He tried to think. He focused on the figure standing over him. There was only one person. The person was talking to him. He felt like a fog was being lifted. He could see. The figure looked familiar. But it didn't make sense. Where was he?

"Dad?" he voice was so small, he could barely whisper.

"I'm here, everything's okay, you're safe now."

"Tired"

"I know son, but I need you to stay awake, just for a little bit longer okay. Can you do that for me?" Don's nod was barely perceptible.

"Hurts" Alan wiped away the fresh tears sliding silently down his son's face. He could see the extreme pain his son was in just by looking at him.

"I know, the doctor is on the way, he'll make everything better." Don began to breathe a little faster, grimacing in pain, the tears coming faster. It killed Alan to see his son in so much pain.

"Charlie"

"He's not here Don" Don said something but Alan couldn't tell what it was. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the doctor step in the room but didn't say anything. Don tried again and this time Alan was able to hear what was said.

"Said goodbye, Charlie said goodbye" This time it was Alan's turn to cry. Charlie had said goodbye. The doctor stepped forward silently. Alan looked at him morosely. The doctor knew he'd seen something very private and waited respectfully until Alan spoke to him.

"He said he was in pain." The doctor nodded.

"I'll make sure he isn't in any pain." The doctor pulled out a syringe and injected something into Don's iv. Alan saw Don immediately relax in his sleep. He couldn't express he eternal gratitude to the doctor.

"Thank you" The doctor gave him a comforting smile. Through the months he'd learned snatches of what had happened to his patient and his brother. He'd taken special cares and pains to make sure Don lived.

"He'll be asleep for several hours at least. You should go home and get some rest. I'll make sure he doesn't wake up alone" Alan nodded wearily and went out to his car. He'd been sitting there for quite a while when he answered the phone. He barely had the strength to answer it. He had never expected Don to tell him that Charlie had said goodbye. Charlie had known he wasn't coming home. That was the hardest thing of all, he knew he wouldn't come home.

"Hello"

"Hey Alan, its Megan…are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don woke up."

"That's good. Is he okay?"

"He's in a lot of pain. He said.." Alan couldn't do it, he couldn't say it.

"Alan?"

"Don told me that Charlie said goodbye" There he'd said it, so why didn't he feel any better?

"Oh Alan, we will find him. Every one isn't giving up…we will find him" Alan fought back the tears. He couldn't do this. This was too much for him to handle. Megan gave him a moment before speaking again. She may not have been able to see him, but she could tell by the silence that he was fighting back the tears. "Alan, is he awake right now?"

"No, they sedated him so he could rest"

"I know this is hard for you, but could you come to the office, it shouldn't take that long"

"Yes, of course, I'll be there soon." Alan hung up the phone. He didn't even question why he would be needed at the office. When he arrived everyone was standing in a row, Megan at the head, holding an envelope in her hand. When he came in she stepped forward.

"Alan, we know these past few months have been tough, and that there are still rough days ahead, but everyone here at the office felt there was something more we could do to help. It's not really enough for what has been going on, but we thought it would help." She handed him the envelope delicately. He opened it. Inside was a check for a large sum of money. "We asked the doctor and he said it would be enough to cover Don's medical expenses." Alan let the tears fall. He couldn't fight them. It had been so hard lately, and it wasn't going to get any better. It touched him that Don had so many people that cared for him. "We also wanted you to know that we haven't given up and we're not going to give up until we bring Charlie home." Alan couldn't take it any longer, he sank into a chair.

"Thank you all…this is more than enough" Alan had stayed at the office for a while longer. People gave him comforting words of encouragement and he thanked them all far more genuinely than he'd ever believed possible in these hard times. After a while, he gathered the strength to drive himself back to the hospital. He'd been given a glimmer of hope again, but still he had this ominous feeling. Don's words still echoed in his mind. He Said Goodbye

A/N: Okay everyone…that was the last chapter! Please watch for my sequel. Note, I haven't forgotten about Charlie! But for now…What did you think of this?