Chapter 7

Hi, I'm doing this one on request! Thank you so much for the inspiration! I also tend to write these kinds of fanfictions, so it came sorta naturally. Thanks for the help!

Also, do not worry: no one dies or is seriously hurt. Not in this story (though in some of my other's that does happen - but not in this one).

This is also kinda ironic, because two days ago I was on the family motorcycle, and we got directly hit by an ambulance! So… yeah. But I thank Jesus our injuries weren't worse!

There was danger. There was a car. There was a bunny. And there was Don. Don leapt forward, desperate to save the imperiled rabbit. Hank's head swung around to track his brother, before his eyes went wide with terror.


Don's outstretched fingers intersected the soft fluff of the bunny's coat, shoving it out of danger.

The merciless form of smooth metal struck Don in the side, launching him to skid across the pavement, skipping like a stone across water. The car never stopped moving.

Hank never heard his own cries as he tore toward his brother, his baby brother who lay so limp on the ground.

Falling to his knees beside him, he tried to turn him over as gently as possible, resting the boys head in his lap.

"Don?" His voice was raw, terrified, broken. Please be okay, please, please, please be okay…

Don's head turned sluggishly toward his brother, sky blue eyes fluttered open and attempted to fix on Hank's face.

"Do you know your name? Do you know who I am?" Hank knew he should stick to one question at a time, but what if Don didn't know him? What if Don never remembered anything? Hank had to do something!

"'Course I 'now you, Han'. Brother. I'm Don. Know that."

"Good, good, that's good." Hank scrabbled for his cellphone, fumbling at the power button. His shaking fingers mistyped the password, and he had to try again.

"Hello, I need an ambulance at the intersection of Ditko and Skeates streets. My brother's been hit by a car."

Hank flew threw his apps desperately, finally selecting flashlight. Holding Don's head steady with one hand, he used the other to shine the light in the teen's pupils were different sizes. Bad bad bad. That means concussion.

Hank scanned over the rest of Don's body, taking in the scrapes and bruises. There was a rather large lump on his head, but hardly any blood. The scrapes adorning Don's body were wide, but didn't seem very deep.

Hank breathed a little easier. He didn't think Don was in too much danger… he'd be fine. He'd be fine. He had to be. "Donny, I need you to focus on what I'm saying."

"Kay. There was a bunny Hank. Is the bunny okay?"

Hank barely glanced up, but didn't see any bunnies anywhere. Probably the thing had hopped off.

"The bunny's fine, Don. You saved it." Stupid little brother. Trying to save anything and everything, no matter what. Stupid, stupid little brother…

"Did you get hurt?"

"No, Donny, I'm fine. Can you tell me where it hurts on you? Where your boo boos are?"

"Umm… I'm hurt?"

Was this good? Bad? Was Don too hurt to feel pain, or just in shock? Would this pass, were there head injuries?"

"Close your eyes, Donny." No need for him to see anything. Don's reactions didn't always line up with reality, and Hank wasn't sure what to do if he started hyperventilating.

"Do I have owies?"

"You have some cuts. Some people should be here soon to take you to a place with special band-aids."

"Ooh! I want one with rainbows. Or flowers. Pretty ones! Would you like a pretty band-aid Hank?"

Well, he was talking. Hank was sure that was good. He still sounded woozy, though, and wasn't talking fast as normal. Still… he wasn't bleeding out or anything… shock could account for not feeling pain… maybe Don would be okay. But Hank wouldn't stop worrying till every evidence of Don's accident was wiped away.

The ambulance pulled up then, prompting Don to forget Hank's instructions and snap his eyes open to see the pretty lights. Besides, Don had always wanted to see the inside of an ambulance. How could he help but look?

The paramedics rushed forward, and began to lift him onto a stretcher. Don giggled at the feel.

"He has a mental retardation." Hank forced out, forcing himself to his feet. "And a concussion, right now, I think."

"It's going to be okay." One of the paramedics assured him. "We'll take him to the hospital and it'll be okay."

Hank bit his lip and hopped into the ambulance. He tried to stay out of the way, not wanting anything to interfere with the care of his little brother.

"He should be fine."

Hank's gasp of relief seemed to encompass the entirety of his being. Don would be okay. He'd be his normal hyper self again soon, laughing and trying to fix anything that came his way. He was going to be alright. Hank was going to kill him!

Did the child have no grasp of priorities? They were going to have a long long talk about being careful, and moving vehicles, and they could talk, and Hank had known that Don would live, but this was different somehow and everything was flowing out of him -

"Can I see him?"

"Right this way."

Hank followed the doctor into Don's room, where the boy was ahhing over some especially sparkly band aids and stickers. Don's head shot up when Hank walked into the room, grinning brightly and waving.

Hank felt a smile break out over his face, erasing the remnants of tightness from his chest and flowing into the purest form of joy he'd felt in years.

"Hank! You're here! The nice ladies gave me stickers and balloons!"

This was also true, and a variety of Elmo and smiley face balloons bobbed about by the ceiling, begging to be taken home, and cried over if they deflated. Don did not do well when anthropomorphic balloons deflated. And if they popped… well that time Don had been inconsolable. Flower balloons worked much much better. Or just solid colored ones. These particular balloons might never leave their hospital home, or Hank would have to tell Don about how they'd 'flown away to join their balloon family'.

"Well that was so nice of them!" Hank made a show of admiring the balloons. "So, how you feeling, sport?"

"Great! I made lots of new friends, and there was a girl and she was sad, but I made her happy! And I got stickers! Look, this one has a rainbow!"

Don had always been a sucker for bright colors. "That's so pretty, Don!" Hank walked over and sat down next to Don, pulling his little brother against his side. Don leaned into Hank's embrace and sighed happily, always up for cuddling.

"You know," Hank murmured, brushing a hand over Don's cheek. "you're more important than a bunny."

Don hummed, and snuggled further into his brother. "I wasn't thinking about that. Besides, I don't think people should be like: 'you're less important so you die!'. That's mean. The bunny can't help not being like us."

"I know, Donny. But sometimes, you just gotta make decisions about what's most important."

"Bad people do that stuff to people not like them. Make them die. I'm not a bad guy."

"No, you sure aren't." This was very, very true. Don may not be smart, but he was the kindest person Hank had ever met. And wasn't that just what people wanted out of each other? Kindness? Who was to judge Hank's brother for not being as smart as someone else? Don had love. What else could anyone else want?