A/N: Was anyone else as horribly disappointed at the end of the last episode as I was? Or am I just warped? 'Cause I was really praying for some Evan whump. *sigh* Disappointed again. So I give you Evan angsties here, instead. :P

Hank rushes into the room housing the sick girl, and frowns when he sees her sleeping peacefully. Quietly, he makes it over to the bedside just as she flutters open heavy eyelids.

"Who're you?" she mumbles.

With a gentle smile to alleviate any fears she might have, he introduces himself. "I'm Dr. Lawson. Your mother sent me in here to check on you. She said you weren't doing well." He turns to shoot a questioning look at Connie and is surprised to see that she isn't there.

The girl shakes her head. "I'm okay. Sort of. What'd Mom say?"

Hank turns back to her. "She said there was an emergency… I thought she was right behind me…"

"She does that sometimes," the teen says with a sigh. "She's being more weird than normal, though. She told me the she was gonna make everything better, something about math…turning fifty into a hundred? I don't think she's taking her meds right now…"

The image of nearly running into Connie in the hall flashes through Hank's mind. She was right outside Evan's room, listening as they were discussing the fifty/fifty odds. His eyes going wide, he rushes into the hall and sprints back towards his brother's side, praying he isn't too late.

~RP~RP~RP~RP~RP~RP~

As Connie reaches over to start shutting off machines, she looks down to see bright blue eyes gazing up at her in confusion.

"Mom?" Evan whispers, his voice fearful and childlike. "I had a bad dream."

Connie freezes, staring down at the sick man as tears well up in his eyes. A weak arm tries to reach up to wipe them away, but his hand falls short, causing him to cry even more as he fails to understand why his body refuses to respond to his commands.

"Mom, I'm scared," he sobs.

Tears spilling from her own eyes, motherly instincts kick in and instead of carrying through with her intended devastation, she instead reaches down and gently pulls Evan into a hug. "There, there, little one," she soothes, pressing his face into her shoulder and stroking her fingers gently through his hair. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Everything's going to be fine."

She stiffens slightly as she hears feet pounding into the room behind her, and turns her head ever so slightly to flash concerned, saddened, and deeply apologetic eyes at the panic-stricken Dr. Lawson.

"Connie, what did you-" he starts to ask.

"Nothing," she interrupts. "He just had a nightmare. Mommy's making it all better."

Hank slowly walks forward, his heart racing as he slides in beside the woman, and reaches out to lay a hand on the shoulder of his still softly crying little brother. "Evan, I'm here now. You're going to be okay, all right? But we need to get you lying back down."

With a sniffle, Evan turns his face against Connie's shoulder just enough to reveal one red-rimmed eye, and a cheek stained with both tears and the ever-present rouge of blood. He studies his older brother for a moment before taking a shuddering breath and nodding that he's ready to be let go. Connie and Hank both guide him back down to the pillows, Hank grabbing a wet rag to wipe away the horrid pink streaks on Evan's face. He takes a look at the front of Connie's shirt, but she shakes her head at anything he's about to say.

"It's my penance for my wicked thoughts," she mutters. "Marked by blood, a punishment for trying to rid the world of such an innocent."

She reaches a hand out to stroke Evan's cheek, but Hank grips her wrist firmly and pulls it away from his brother. "Connie, can you go ask for a nurse, please?" he asks calmly.

She hesitates for a moment before moving towards the door and calling for the first person on staff that she sees. Keeping one eye on his brother and one on Connie, Hank pulls the nurse over to the corner to speak with her in hushed tones, explaining to the horrified woman the details of what almost happened.

"Should I call the police?" she asks.

"No," Hank quickly objects. "I'm not sure what neurosis she's suffering from, but I imagine she wouldn't be allowed to raise a daughter on her own if it wasn't being controlled with proper medication. I can understand her missing a few doses under-" He looks back at Evan's withered form. "-this kind of stress. Just make sure she gets back on her doctor's routine, and stays with her daughter from now on."

The nurse nods quickly, understanding the underlying "keep her away from us" message beneath Hank's words. With gentle guidance, she grips Connie's elbow and guides her from the room, leaving a frazzled Hank to plunk down in the chair beside his quieted brother.

"She's crazy…but I understand…her logic," Evan suddenly says in a soft, but clear tone of voice.

Hank sits up straight, startled. "How much of that did you hear?"

Evan looks at him with guilt-ridden eyes. "Me…or her...little girl? ...Not a…fair choice..."

Alarm bells begin to go off in Hank's head. Evan knew, and in his fragile state of mind was thinking exactly as Hank feared he would should he learn of the girl. "It's not a choice we get to make, Evan," he states firmly. "You're the math wiz, you know the odds don't work that way."

"Still…" Evan breathes out, almost too silent to hear.

"'Still' nothing," Hank snaps, then softens his voice. "Don't give up on me, Evan; I'll never forgive you if you do." Despite his best efforts, the stress of the entire situation breaks the doctor down into heavy tears. He continues to talk through them, anyway, his words coming out thick with emotion as he tries desperately to break through his brother's suddenly self-sacrificial attitude. "When Dad left and we realized he wasn't coming back, I was so mad. I threw myself into taking care of Mom, of you, turning away from all my friends and hobbies. I was turning into a bitter old man before I even hit puberty; but you…you wouldn't let me. You kept doing things that would get me out of the house, getting yourself into trouble on purpose, but in the stupidest ways." He chuckled a little through his anguish. "It pissed me off, but I always wound up laughing at you later. You were the only one that ever made me laugh. And when Mom…when Mom died you just kept it right up. It never mattered where we ended up, you were always the one that held a flashlight in the dark. You always saw something good in everything, and that, Evan, that's what kept me alive. You dragging me out here to the Hamptons? You saved me again, and I know I can't ever repay you for that. This, Hankmed, working with you as my partner? This is the best thing that's ever happened to me. If you leave now, it'll all be gone. All the work you did keeping me up when we were kids, everything you've done for me now – it'll all have been for nothing. If you die on me, Evan, maybe that girl will live and maybe she won't, but I swear if you go out without putting up a fight, you'll take me with you. Do you understand?"

Evan looks away from the sight of his normally stoic big brother in shambles beside him, and shuts his eyes. He stays that way for so long that Hank's afraid the younger man has fallen asleep again before the issue is resolved, but finally Evan speaks slowly with a touch of humor in his tone. "You ever…hear the riddle…about flipping a coin?

Scrubbing an arm across his face, Hank tries to smile and answers, "No. Why don't you tell me?"

"I'll give you…the gist… You flip a coin…six times… What're the odds…of getting...heads…the last time?"

This time Hank's smile is genuine and full of relief. "Still fifty/fifty, right?"

"Still…fifty/fifty," Evan confirms. He turns to look at his brother. "I'll try, Hank… I promise."

"No," Hank says, then in his best Yoda impression continues with, "'Try not. Do."

Evan laughs, ignoring the coughing fit it sends him into. "That's, like…the worst…Yoda ever… Don't…ever do that…again."

Hank laughs, too. "Guess I better not. Your lungs can't handle it."

Evan's chuckles fade away as his eyes suddenly droop shut, the smile sliding off his face as his features go slack.

"Evan?" Hank asks in alarm, shaking him slightly.

His brother stays limp and still as death, the only things signaling that he's still alive being the steady beeping rhythm of the machines.