"Don't Leave Without Saying Good-bye"
Queensrÿche, Another Rainy Night (Without You)

Isaac Hanson opened the door to the study, smiling to see the chair in front of the computer vacant. He stepped in, closing the door behind him, and moved across the thick, dark blue carpet. He turned the computer on as he sat down, and opened the green, spiral bound notebook to a page full of his own handwriting. As soon as the computer booted up, he opened a file, typed in a password, and watched the document open. He pushed aside the toys, Legos, discs and CDs that cluttered the oak stained desk to make room for the notebook, found the end of the document, and began to type.

A soft snore interrupted him, and he froze, then slowly turned. Face down on the love seat behind him lay his little brother, Taylor, looking cramped and unbelievably uncomfortable. His head was cushioned on a pillow, pressed against the arm, staticky strands of blond hair attached to the material. His legs extended beyond the other arm, which hit him just above the knees. His back was arched backwards, his legs sticking up at almost a 45 degree angle. His right hand hung down, dipped into the pool of late morning sunlight the window let in. Isaac paused, tempted to get his camera for a blackmail picture, but the thought of losing the computer changed his mind. He had about two hours, he judged, before someone came clamoring to use it. He turned back to the computer and lost himself in his own universe.

"Hey, Ike?" Startled, his hands slammed down on the keyboard, and the computer beeped in irritation. He anxiously scanned the screen for any signs that the document had been injured, saved it, and spun. Another younger brother, Zachary, stood half-way between he and Taylor, ready to take off at a run. Isaac lunged for him; Zachary bolted for the door.

Isaac caught him in the hallway and closed the door so they wouldn't wake Taylor. "What did you do that for?" he demanded, gripping his younger brother's arm.

"What? I didn't sneak up on you," Zachary protested.

"Really. Zac, can't you please leave me alone for a couple hours? Every time I have sat down the last week, you've come to bug me. Is it a curse?" He was only half joking.

"Curse? No! Blessing! You get the singular opportunity to serve, by taking me to the mall!" Isaac groaned. "No, really! Please, Ike!" He leaned close, tugging Isaac down so he could whisper "I have to get a present for Jess. Her birthday is in a week."

"No, Zac, I'm not taking you, okay? Ask Mom."

Zachary scowled. "Jessie will want to go. Or Mom will just make you babysit, and you wouldn't be able to be on the computer anyway. Come on, Ike! An hour, okay? Just an hour, and I'll distract the little kids so you can work in peace. Deal?"

Isaac sighed. "And if I say no?"

Zac shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face. "I will become a curse."

Isaac thought about it; Zac was probably right about having to babysit if Mom took him. "All right. Now or after lunch?" He released his little brother and stepped back to lean against the wall. He didn't know if he were more angry, frustrated, or amused. He tended toward angry and frustrated right now.

"Now. We can get lunch there."

"All right. Let me close that down, I'll be right out." Isaac went back into the den, casting half a glance at Taylor, then stood staring at the computer again. Finally, he closed the document, shut the computer down, and grabbed his notebook from the desk. When he turned around, Zac was looking in the door. 'Checking on me,' Isaac thought to himself. Zac grinned and vanished.

They met on the front porch, having reported their secret mission - and gotten a blackmail picture of Taylor. So far, Isaac thought as he started the van, that picture was about the best part of the whole morning.

There was nothing good on the radio. He hit scan and drove. When it started at the bottom of the dial the third time, Zac moved. "Where are you going?" Isaac asked, his eyes on the road.

"Back here." He flashed a cheesy grin at Isaac, and sat down in the seat directly behind him. When the next station came on, he slid over to the seat in the center of the bench.

"Zac, pick a chair and put your seat belt on." This made him nervous. He wasn't that experienced at driving. Why had he let Zac talk him into this? Oh, yeah. It was that or no peace. Maybe he would chance renting a machine at Kinko's. The peace was worth the price, and he had a pager if someone needed to get hold of him. And, it was close enough to take the bus if he couldn't have the car. It was sounding better and better. A movement behind him snapped his attention back to the mirror. "Zac, if you get me in trouble because you're moving, I'll kill you."

"Me? You can't kill me. I'm the best drummer you'll find."

"Oh, I could kill you," Isaac muttered, turning back to the road. Zac made a mad dash for the front passenger seat. "Zac! Sit down! I don't want to...." He sighed. Yelling never got him anywhere. "Zac, please, put your seat belt on."

He did, sitting in the front seat, fidgeting. As soon as the scan started again at the bottom of the dial, he shot for the back seat. Isaac gripped the steering wheel, fighting to keep his attention on the road. "You have no idea how distracting that is, Zac," he said.

"Just ignore me," Zac said, sliding over with a change of station again. Isaac scowled at him in the rear view mirror.

"I can't see past you." He turned back to the road. "There are days," he muttered. "There are just days."

Zac brushed his arm, darting forward for the seat next to him. Isaac swerved, then corrected so sharply he tossed Zac into the door. "Hey!" he protested.

"Sit still," Isaac growled. Not far now, please let me get there in one piece, he thought. Zac suddenly lunged for the back seat again, and Isaac turned. "Zac! Stop it!"

A blaring horn caught his attention and he snapped his head around just in time to see the stop sign he wouldn't be able to stop in time for. He was going to try anyway. His foot had barely left the accelerator when a van pulled into the intersection. He slammed into the side of it. In clear pictures, he saw Zac fly through the windshield, head first, and hit the other van. He slumped to the hood of their van, looking like one of Jessie's dolls after they had gotten to them.

Isaac caught his breath, staring in disbelief at Zac's motionless form. Mom was gonna kill him. He slammed out the door so fast he nearly hit someone, trying to reach Zac, trying to see if he were alive. A voice next to him said something about having called 911, and was he hurt? Isaac didn't answer, his whole world focused on Zachary and what he had done to him. "I should have stopped," he mumbled. "I should have made him sit down."

A raspy breath jerked his attention back to Zac. He seemed to be struggling to breathe. Isaac reached for him but hesitated. He wanted to move him so that he could breathe easier, but moving him might kill him. His hand hovered by Zac's face, afraid to even touch him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered sirens, then someone yanked him out of the way. He stumbled backwards, slamming heavily into someone else, who took his arm and steadied him.

"What are they doing?" he demanded, registering that there were four people in white gathered around where Zac had landed. He couldn't see him, and the hysteria began to build up in him.

"It's okay, they'll make sure he's okay. That's their job. Were you driving?"

Isaac turned to look at the man, noticing distantly that he was a policeman. He looked back at the activity around Zac. "Yeah. Were they okay in the other van?"

"Yes. The only casualty was a wedding cake. Can you tell me what happened?"

"He wouldn't sit down, wouldn't put a seat belt on. I was paying more attention to him than the road. Didn't see the stop sign until...." The activity became frenzied. "Oh, no," he whispered, and started over. The officer grabbed his arm, pulling him around.

"I need to see your driver's license."

His hands were shaking so hard it took him three tries to pull out the piece of plastic. "They can't leave without me," he said desperately.

"All right, Mr. Hanson. What's your relation to the injured boy?"

"Brother." Isaac watched as the men began loading Zac, now on a stretcher, his neck in a brace, into the ambulance. "Please," he said softly. "I can't let him go alone."

The officer's grip on his arm made him turn and look at him. "I don't suppose you can just disappear. You'll hear from us." He let Isaac go and handed him his license. "I hope he's okay. Go on."

"Thanks." Isaac raced over to the ambulance and climbed in.

Zachary looked small, the brace holding his head and neck still dwarfing him. The EMT's continued to work, pushing Isaac into a corner. He watched them, knees pulled up to his chest, eyes fixed on Zac's face. Zac didn't move, didn't open his eyes, didn't react when they stuck him with a needle for the IV. A couple of times Isaac could have sworn he stopped breathing, but before he could panic, Zac would start up again, that horrid raspy breathing that hurt Isaac's chest just to hear it.

The arrival at the hospital brought about more frenzied activity. Isaac pulled his wits together enough to follow the gurney inside, only to be told plainly at the double doors leading to surgery that he couldn't follow. He stopped, staring after Zac until they turned the corner out of his sight. He glanced around, then sank down in an available chair. He hadn't sat there long when a hand touched his shoulder. "You were with the boy they just brought in?"

Marshaling his thoughts, Isaac nodded. "Yeah. Um. Yeah." He glanced at the doors.

"What's his name?"

"Zac Hanson."

"What's your name?"

"Ike... Isaac Hanson. We're brothers." His thoughts were beginning to scatter again. She looked at him closely, and he drew back from her scrutiny. 'Oh, please, don't recognize me,' he thought frantically.

"Did anyone look at you?"

"What?"

"Were you in the accident?"

"Um, yeah, you could say that. I had my seat belt on. He didn't." 'My fault!' his thoughts screamed.

"And no one looked at you?"

"Why? I'm fine." Physically, his thoughts added.

"You're shaking."

He held up his hands, surprised to see them trembling. Then he shook his head. "I almost killed my little brother." He suddenly stopped and gripped her arm. "He is alive, right?"

"Yes." Her voice came out strained.

He didn't register the pained expression on her face. "He's not going to die, is he?" A hand closed around his heart, and he found it hard to breath.

"You're hurting me," she said, and he let her go, pushing back into the chair.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm not doing.... I gotta find a phone." He looked around, frantic.

The woman sighed. "Come with me."

"I can't leave Zac!" he shouted, and the other people in the hall turned to look at him. He cringed. 'Low profile, Ike, low profile. Don't draw attention to yourself.' He took a deep breath. "Sorry," he murmured.

"Why don't you come with me. I'll take you to the room they'll be taking your brother, and there is a phone there that you can use." He nodded, stood up unsteadily, and followed her quietly down to another room.

It was empty, but there was a phone there. Isaac sank thankfully into the only comfortable chair in the room and dialed home.

"Hello, you've reached the Hanson Residence. Please leave your name and number, and we'll get back to you," his Dad's voice said, far too cheerfully.

"Mom, pick up. Please. It's Ike. We had an accident...."

The click interrupted him. "Isaac?" his mother's voice asked.

"Mom, I'm sorry, I don't know if the van will ever run again, we're in Tulsa Memorial. I don't know how Zac is, but he's hurt bad. I'm okay." It came out in a rush; he barely realized he was babbling.

"Isaac, calm down." He quieted. "What happened?"

"I hit someone. In the van. They're okay. Zac was up. He went through the windshield and hit the other van. He's in surgery." The line was silent. "Mom, I'm sorry. I can't even start... I'm sorry." Desperate, he would have termed his tone.

"Tulsa Memorial?"

"Yes. I don't know the room number...."

"413," a voice supplied, and Isaac looked up at a smiling man in white scrubs.

"Oh, um. 413, Mom. They said Zac would be brought here."

"Don't move, Isaac." She hung up. He sat there, dazed, the phone still in his hand. The man took it, after it started to beep irritably, and hung it up.

"How are you today?"

"I've had better days." Isaac blinked and looked at him, dragging his thoughts together. "Who are you?"

"I'm Doctor Sunshine, and yes, that's my real name, although you're in no condition to appreciate the joke." He put his hand on Isaac's forehead. "You look awfully shaky. Ms. Task tells me you were in an accident?"

"Yes, but I'm fine." He bit his tongue before telling this stranger that the accident had been his fault.

The doctor slipped a hand under his hair, gently probing his neck and shoulders. "Doesn't seem to be any bone damage here," he murmured. "Were you wearing a seat belt?"

"Yes." He took a deep breath. "Will Zac be all right?" He felt tired all of a sudden.

"I haven't heard one way or another." He tipped Isaac's head up and held the small flashlight-like instrument over his eyes. "Look at the light," he instructed. "Did you hit your head?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Stray glass?"

"I don't know."

The doctor moved down his arms, checking them, moving his wrists. Isaac hissed in sudden pain, noticing finally that his right wrist was swollen. "Can you move it?" Dr. Sunshine asked. He did, wincing in pain, and the doctor stopped him. "You need to get that x-rayed."

"I can't leave the room." His words were slurred, eyes heavy. "Mom'll be mad. She's already mad, don't want to make it worse."

Dr. Sunshine stepped back and nodded. "All right. You stay right here. This is a pretty comfortable chair; relax. I'll make sure they wake you if anything happens. Deal?"

"Deal," Isaac mumbled. He settled back, his eyes slipping closed.

The next thing he knew, someone was shaking him awake. "Isaac, where's Zac?"

He was stiff. "I don't.... He's not here yet?" He fought his way clear of the blanket that had magically appeared over him, wincing as his right wrist twinged again.

Standing up took two tries, and by the time he was on his feet again, the doctor had returned, and with him, a gurney with Zac on it.

"Mrs. Hanson? I'm Dr. Sunshine. Your son has fallen into a coma. He hit his head very hard. It was something of a miracle his neck didn't snap. And I'm going to take this one for an x-ray." He indicated Isaac, who flinched under his mother's anguished gaze.

"Why?"

"To find out if his wrist broke or not."

Diana stared at him, turning her gaze on Isaac in thoughtful contemplation. The look on her face made him want to crawl inside his skin and hide. "All right," she said finally.

"Good. We'll bring him back here shortly."

Isaac followed him, dazed, to an x-ray room, where he was turned over to a technician. When she finished, he found his way back to Zac's room, the x-rays in hand.

"He's in pain. He may have trouble sleeping," Dr. Sunshine said as Isaac paused in the doorway.

"Pain?" Diana asked. Her right hand traced lines up and down Zachary's arm, tickling it as if to get him to wake up and slap her hand off.

"He got jolted around, and whether the wrist is broken or not, it's sprained," the doctor explained. "You'll need to keep an eye on him." He turned and spotted Isaac hovering in the doorway. "Good, there you are. Let me see your pictures." He set them up on a light board and nodded. "You're in luck, Isaac. It's just sprained. Ice it for twenty minutes every hour, okay?"

"Um. Sure." He nodded turning to look at Zachary, who lay far too still, even in sleep. "Is he okay?"

Diana looked at him. "He's in a coma, Isaac," she said in a flat voice. She turned back to Dr. Sunshine. "All right. I'll take him home, and settle things there. I'll be back tomorrow."

He handed her a slip of paper. "Good. We'll do what we can, but most of it is up to Zachary."

"Thank you, Dr. Sunshine." She took Isaac's arm and propelled him out the door and down to her car. On the road, she glanced at him. "Okay, Isaac. What happened?"

He relayed the story again, barely able to think. When he finished, Diana took a breath. "Dr. Sunshine isn't sure Zac is going to make it," she said bluntly.

The blow might as well have been physical; he flinched and huddled in the corner of his seat away from her, staring at her, eyes wide. "Oh, no." She didn't respond, hands gripping the wheel tightly. Isaac swallowed. "He'll think I hate him," he whispered. "He thinks I hate him."

"Do you?"

"No! But he doesn't know that right now." He slumped down in the seat. 'What if Zac dies thinking I hate him?' he thought. The next thought made him sit up stiffly, eyes wide. 'What if Zac dies?' It was enough to make him wish he were dead.

The house was quiet when they got home, and Isaac slipped upstairs to his room. Their room. He crawled painfully up onto his bed and curled up, not bothering even to remove his shoes, and just lay there, wishing his thoughts would stop spinning. He heard someone come in but didn't move, even when the intruder shook his arm.

"Hey." No intruder. Taylor. "Mom says to come downstairs. She's going to explain this whole thing, where Zac is." He sounded worried.

"I know where Zac is. I put him there."

"What do you mean?"

Isaac sighed. "I don't want to move. I hurt. Tell Mom I'm asleep. I will be soon enough." He stared blankly at the wall, listening to Taylor's footsteps go down the hall, down the stairs. Isaac lay still, trying to steady his breathing, wanting to fall asleep and escape his thoughts.

The sun shone brightly into his eyes, and he squinted, trying to read the tombstone in front of him. It was a familiar place; his Grandmother was buried here, too. Too? He stepped closer, shading his eyes against the sun. It seemed to blaze brighter, as if trying to keep him from seeing the name. The grave was fresh, the dirt packing down under his shoes as he moved closer, finally kneeling in the moist earth. He still couldn't see it. He touched the stone, fingers searching to find the engraved name. He found it, feeling letters out. "Oh, no," he whispered as he felt out Z-A-C-H...

Pain reverberated up his arm, and his eyes opened. His hands were pressed against the wall, pushing against it. The wall. Not Zac. It was dark. The only light came in the window - moonlight. He struggled to calm his breathing, but the dream - nightmare - and the pain in his wrist conspired against him.

"Ike?"

He started and turned over on his back to find Taylor peeking over the edge of the bed, eyes wide. "Yeah?" It came out a whisper. His throat hurt.

"You okay?"

He thought about it. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You were... talking in your sleep." He paused. "Yelling, actually."

"Oh," he said. "Just... I had a nightmare." He sat up, wincing at pulled muscles in his neck and back, then awkwardly and one handed slid down from his bed. "I'm gonna get a drink." He noticed then that his shoes weren't on anymore, but thought no more about it. He padded quietly to the bathroom; it held no cups. He headed for the stairs.

In the kitchen, he remembered that he hadn't iced his wrist, and grabbed one of the many ice packs out of the freezer, evidence of active boys with too many destructive hobbies. He got a glass of water and sat at the kitchen table in the dark, watching the green luminescent numbers on the microwave count out the minutes past two.

"Isaac?" The light came on, blinding bright, and he cringed, the nightmare too recent in memory. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Slowly, his eyes adjusted and his heartbeat slowed. He looked up at his Dad. "I just forgot. The doctor said to ice it, twenty minutes every hour."

"At night, too?" Walker sat down across the table.

"Um, no. But I didn't when I got home." He drew abstract pictures in the melted ice with his right forefinger, his left hand clenched around the glass. "I'm sorry, Dad," he whispered after a minute of silence. "I'm sorry."

Walker sighed and reached across the table, clasping Isaac's left wrist in a firm grip. "The doctor sent your mother home with a prescription for you, in case you couldn't sleep. Are you stiff?"

"Yeah." His mind was becoming as numb as his wrist.

"You done icing that?" Isaac's eyes flickered to the clock, then he nodded. Walker released him and stood. "Come on, then. Bring your glass." Still numb, Isaac tossed the ice pack back in the freezer and followed his Dad up the stairs.

The pill was small and orange. Isaac swallowed it dutifully, left his glass by the sink, and went back to his room. Getting back in bed was a struggle; he could only use one hand, but his father didn't move from the doorway. Isaac finally made it and lay staring at the ceiling until the black oblivion took him.

"Did it help?" Avery asked, refilling her glass.

"The medication?" He looked at her in contemplation. "To be honest, I don't remember. I think so. That's one of the more blurry times."

"That means it helped," Diana smiled, and touched his arm.

Isaac sighed and looked at his hands, then smiled sadly at Avery. "I missed a lot of breakfasts. I guess it was a good thing it was summer, and I didn't have to worry about school." Avery chuckled. "All you're getting is what I remember, and some of it is still sketchy. That's why Mom's here."

"So, then what happened?" Avery asked.

Isaac took a drink. "I incurred the wrath of the family, people we knew, and millions of people I'd never met."

Diana smiled wryly and patted his arm again. "It got ugly. And he didn't handle it well at all."