A/N: As usual, thanks to Rinne for the beta.

I like to hurt Don. What can I say?

Enjoy and review

"All clear, suspect is in custody," Colby said over the com. Don released a breath and thanked the stars, leaning against the wall by the door, grateful to be alone in the alley. He should not be here. He should have done the smart thing and gone home. Sweat slid on his temple, the hot, stale July air clinging to his skin. He swiped a hand over his face and closed his eyes.

He heard footsteps approaching from behind but he couldn't muster the energy to move. He kept his shoulder to the wall, breathing fast and shallow. God, he felt like hell. Nausea slithered around his stomach like a snake. It was as if the wall he was leaning against was slowly shifting and moving, the asphalt under his feet warping. He blinked hard, dizziness swamping him. He swallowed and coughed, panting against the feeling. He really should have stayed home. He'd felt off since morning but they'd been too close to getting their hands on Messner for him to take a sick day.

Still, he'd been smart about it, mostly... He'd let Colby take the lead, covering the back in case the man ran but the creep had thankfully surrendered quietly.

Right now, Don was vehemently regretting his decision to partake in the raid. He was being stupid and selfish. He was putting his team in jeopardy, being out in the field when he felt like this much crap. He felt a rush of heat rise through him, drenching him in sweat.

The footsteps stopped just next to him. He didn't turn.

"Don. Messner's in custody."

"Good," he breathed, closing his eyes against a massive rush of nausea-induced vertigo. He exhaled slowly, cold sweat pearling on his brow. The strange sensation seeped inside him, centering on his stomach. No.

Damn. Oh *no*.

Oh hell no.

"Don? You okay?"

He shook his head no and instantly regretted it. Oh yeah. Unquestionably. For sure. Right now.

He doubled over, hands on his knees. Vomit splattered noisily to the pavement.

"That would be a no, then," Colby commented dryly.

Don figured the second wave of vomit spilling from his mouth to the ground was answer enough. He coughed, drew a sharp breath and heaved again, adding to the growing puddle between his feet. He spat, breathing harsh and fast, willing his quivering stomach to try and stop inverting itself.

He coughed and threw up again, his back arching with the sustained effort. He spat a few more times and cleared his throat, panting as his stomach slowly uncoiled. Dark spots filled his vision as his hands and face tingled with numbness. He let his head hang low and turned his back to the wall, away from the mess. He exhaled carefully, drew in a breath and held it for a three count before repeating the exercise a few more times. His vision progressively cleared and the feeling returned to his hands.

"You good?" Colby asked from somewhere to his right. He lifted his head and glanced at him, nodding fractionally. He would have though Colby would be poking fun at him. Instead, he looked positively concerned. Did he really look that bad?

"Yeah. Something I ate," he said hoarsely.

"I can see that. Literally."

Don gave a harsh chuckle, keeping his head low. He felt a bit better but he wasn't ready to move just yet, his legs still rubbery. He blinked hard to clear the moisture the intense effort had drawn from his eyes and wiped a hand over his mouth. He shivered, cold sweat drenching his body in a sudden wave. He took off his ball cap and dragged a hand though his hair.

"Here."

Don opened his eyes to find a handkerchief in Colby's hand. He grabbed it and nodded his thanks. He wiped his face and neck, massaging the ache just above his left collarbone. He straightened up slowly, the throbbing spreading up into his neck and jaw. Maybe he'd caught the flu or something, if the aches and pains were anything to go by. It would explain the sudden, violent reappearance of his lunch, too.

He pushed off the wall and took a few steps towards Colby, wavering slightly. His legs still felt like jell-o and his head ached fiercely. With Messner in custody, all he wanted to do now was to go home and crash.

"You okay?" Colby asked.

Don tilted his head to one side, working his jaw. Truth be told, he still felt a bit faint. "Must've caught the flu or something. I just need to lie down, sleep this off," he said.

"You sure? You're really, really pale, man."

He shook his head, the alley warping before his eyes. He could feel the perspiration soaking through the back of his shirt, sticking it to his skin and pooling under the Kevlar. He swallowed audibly, a moan of discomfort escaping his lips.

"You gonna..." Colby asked, taking an unconscious step back.

"No." Don's answer held a lot more certainty than he felt. He worked his jaw a few times, trying to chase the deep ache now pulsing there. His stomach suddenly twisted painfully and he was engulfed by a wave of intense vertigo. "Maybe," he amended, reaching a hand towards the wall. He leaned against it as the dizziness worsened. He felt incredibly faint so he let himself lean forward, head between his knees, suddenly breathless. He felt his heart pounding hard in his chest, pain creeping from his collarbone to his shoulder into his arm. He tried to straighten up, only to crumple to his knees, eyes closed, breathing fast, yet feeling like he couldn't pull in enough air.

"Don!" Colby grabbed his arm as he went down, worry clear in his voice.

"Can't... breathe...." He sat heavily on the pavement, turning his back against the wall. The ache in his stomach slowly shifted up to rest under his sternum, making it even harder to breathe. He inhaled sharply, trying desperately to fill his lungs, pressing his head against the wall, arching his back. No matter how much air he was pulling in, he felt like he was suffocating. He gasped. He couldn't breathe!

"Don? Don, can you hear me?"

He couldn't bring himself to answer. He grunted as the pressure in his chest suddenly turned into a crushing vise. Pain raced from his chest up into his left shoulder as his heart suddenly stuttered in his chest. Fear flashed hard in his soul.

It wasn't something he ate. It was a whole lot worse.

"C... Col... heh..... ca..ll..." he mumbled, a hand reaching for his agent. He couldn't make the words get past the pressure in his chest.

Colby fell to his knees next to him, grabbing his flailing hand. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Don cried out and grabbed at his chest as the vise clenched ever tighter. He pulled in a few shuddering breaths, his vision going gray. "Medic," he gasped, blackness closing in. He slid sideways along the wall until he lay on the pavement.

"Oh crap. MEDIC! Control this is 6258. I need EMS at my location, we have an agent down! I repeat EMS to my location, agent down!" Colby shouted.

He heard Colby yelling as motes of darkness clouded his vision. He gasped like a landed fish but the vise pressing on his chest was making it impossible for his lungs to expand.

"Ch...ar...l... Dah..." he whispered, finally understanding what was happening.

"Don! Hold on! Just hang on. Help's on the way. Just breathe. C'mon, Don, stay with me!"

He heard footsteps racing towards them and he caught a glimpse of Nikki, dropping to her knees in front of him.

"Colby! What happened!"

"He collapsed. I think he's having a heart attack."

"Damn!"

He felt Colby's hands on his face, his arm, saw his face above him but he couldn't make the words come out anymore. Two other unknown faces appeared, blue hats on their heads. They spoke to him but he couldn't understand. Sounds were muffled, as if he was underwater. He blinked slowly.

The words were lost in the buzzing growing in his ears. He heard himself cry out again as the pain crested again and then, nothing.

Slowly, awareness came back in bits and pieces, disjointed sensations and feelings. Something on his face. Something stuck to the back of his hand. Pain in his chest. Someone was speaking but the voice was too far away for him to hear. He let oblivion take him again. He felt a sharp tug on the back of his hand. He tired to move it away but it wouldn't, for some reason.

"Responds to painful stimuli. Agent Eppes? Don? Can you wake up for me?"

He forced his eyes open. The surroundings he found himself in were foreign yet familiar… Hospital. He was in a hospital.

"How are you feeling?"

He didn't recognize the voice or the face in front of him.

"W'happn?" he asked, confused.

"We'll talk about that soon. Are you in any pain?"

"Chest. Like 'n el'phnt… sat on 't," he breathed through the mask. A sudden thought occurred to him. "Shot in't vest?"

"No but the pain is to be expected. You've suffered a mild heart attack."

"Wha..." Fear flooded his veins. He tried to push himself up on his elbows but failed, his muscles like jelly.

"Relax, Agent Eppes. You're fine. You need to stay calm or I'll need to sedate you. Your heart needs rest, time to heal."

He shook his head, panic flooding his soul.

"Easy, easy there. You're okay. You'll be fine. The muscle damage is minimal. Just relax. You're okay. I'll get your family, all right?"

He nodded, trying to get his breathing under control. And suddenly, it hit him. He wasn't dead. He was going to be okay. He'd survived.

He felt his father's hands on his, Robin's too. He smiled as he drifted away. He was alive.

He stood at the window, watching the rain fall on the city, its lights mirrored on the clouds. He shifted his feet on the cold hospital linoleum. He should have put on those damned blue slippers because now his feet were freezing. He was glad to feel it; to be alive to feel it.

He pulled the IV pole closer, so he could lean on the window sill. Something pulled in his chest and he hissed, straightening back up.

"Don?"

He smiled and stayed where he was. He should have been self-conscious about the open-backed gown but he had boxers on and he couldn't really bring himself to be.

"Hey Larry."

"Should you not be resting?"

"It's fine," he said, an answer and non-answer both. "I… needed to see. I mean…" he said, not knowing why.

He heard Larry step in and come to stand next to him, gazing over the same cityscape.

"It's good to lay eyes on things we care about when our lives take unexpected turns," he said softly, just as understanding and enlightened as Don knew he would be, even with the circumstances. He shouldn't be surprised, really. Larry had never lacked words or understanding in any situation.

He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, feeling more of the residual aches in his chest. He should have stayed in bed. He was barely out of CICU, and just now off the monitor.

"I almost died today," he said, knowing full well it had been a lot more than 24 hours. He hadn't seen the sun rise or set though so to him, it was still today and he knew Larry wouldn't correct him.

"Yes," Larry replied, his voice reflecting overcome fear and heartfelt relief. Silence filled the room for a second. "It *has* happened before."

Don suspected there was a little undertone of resentment somewhere in there, not directly at him but for what he put his family through. Despite how different they were, he and Larry shared a deep and sincere friendship, one he tended to take for granted too often. He was younger than Larry but not by that much and this was likely an event much too close to home for the astrophysicist.

"I was very afraid, this time," Larry said.

"So was I," he said rubbing unconscious fingers over his sternum, recalling the agonizing pain.

Larry chuckled so softly he wasn't sure he'd heard it. "I would think you would be used to it, by now. Another day at the office?"

"This is different," he replied, finally looking at him.

"How so?"

"I wasn't ready, this time."

"Why? Because it wasn't a moment of your choosing, unlike stepping in front of a bullet or a knife?"

He thought for a moment, reflecting on his question. Was it?

"Not really. It's… I'm not finished," he said, not quite sure what he meant.

"Our own mortality seems distant and surreal until we are confronted with it in such a blatant manner. We always tend to think of time as a constant in an equation, as something we haven't fully defined or quantified but our reality, as we know and experience it, is bound by the limited quantity of said time we have *in* our lives."

"It's never long enough, is it?"

"No. I guess not."

"Dad and Robin doing okay?" Don asked.

"They should be sound asleep as per your request. Colby offered to keep watch and make sure they actually kept their end of the agreement. Charles' flight should be landing at LAX in a few hours and he said he'd come straight here. I was sent to assure you would keep your part as well."

"You're here to tell me to get back to bed and rest?"

Larry shrugged. "Merely to offer a friendly ear."

Don thought for a moment before speaking again.

"Stepping in front of a bullet, a knife or a bomb... it's what I do. It's my job, it's who I am. I made my peace with that a long time ago. This... I know what I'm in for when I step out there. I know what can happen."

"And you were just proven wrong by life itself. We never know what is out there for us. All we can do is make the best of the time we have and live in it. That's the main thing I learned out there, in the desert. I spent so much time contemplating the past and the fabric of the cosmos I forgot to live inside it, to enjoy what is offered to me for the however cosmically brief existence I'm granted within the confines of this universe. You once told me to revert a little."

Don chuckled. "Yeah, I remember that."

"I have. I'll now turn that advice back on to you. Live in the now, Don. Enjoy it."

"I plan to. Thanks, Larry."

"My pleasure. Our friendship's always been dear to me, an unexpected benefit of my friendship with Charles. You two are as different as two people can be yet so similar... Ying and Yang comes to mind."

"Yeah, maybe. Complete opposites yet incomplete without the other. A damn good team. Never thought I'd see my brother like that. Hell, I never thought I'd get married."

"I think finding a kindred soul is something we can all hope aspire to do. Alas like comets, our orbits are rarely synchronous or parallel to others of our kind. I'm simply glad you and your brother managed to find such happiness."

"Yeah. Maybe one day I can find wisdom too."

"In time."

Fin