Charles Edward Eppes was supposed to grow up and do great things. When you can teach the teacher in grade school, that's the path people expect. They don't expect you to become a janitor or a psych patient or whatever else other geniuses became that broke everyone's expectations and hopes.
Don read about people like that. People who took unimpressive jobs to do what they liked on the side, or how smarter people were generally more prone to mental illnesses. He'd heard reasons for why they might have issues with the latter. Mutations in the brain. Misunderstandings. Too much understanding, in this case of the world. Stress from the expectations people put on them.
He'd heard these things.
It wasn't like they'd seen each other much. Don had things to do, games to play, people to hang out with. He'd had his own life. Charlie had things to do, numbers to chase, people to discuss math with. His own life as well. And that's where they went wrong, Don supposes. The evidence supports it.
After all, people need support networks, apparently, like friends and family, and it was no secret that Charlie had no friends. The next logical step would be family- those people who were supposed to have no choice in loving you? Except, Don and he had issues, and Dad didn't really see him or get him well enough, so it was really just mom. Mom was his entire support network.
Something was bound to fail with that.
It was September. Don had stuff to do. So he went downstairs as Charlie went up. And he knew Charlie wasn't happy, because he hadn't looked that way in a while, but honestly it hadn't mattered much because they were high schoolers. Everyone was unhappy. Sucks to be you. And he was a little vindictive over his brother's special treatment so Don kind of thought it was good for Charlie.
He can't remember if they brushed at all, going different ways.
It was about six at night. The sky was darkening, dinner was soon. Don realizes that he needs his biology textbook and goes upstairs, and he notices Charlie's lights are off, which seems strange. He's supposed to be up here. Don glances inside his room in case the kid is going through his stuff again, then at the bathroom, but Charlie isn't there.
There's a problem.
Don goes to Charlie's room and turns on the light. For some reason, the closet is open.
There's something wrong.
Don walks over, curiosity and dread he doesn't understand hiding in his throat, and he opens the door wider.
The scene hits him like a train.
Take him down. Take your brother down from where he's hanging quick.
Don forces himself to move, handling the sense that the belt is untouchable because Charlie is more important, and he gently gets him down.
Something seems to break when he knows his brother's feet are on the floor again. He runs out and gets his dad.
So see, this is why Don has to read these things. Because Charlie likes logic, so it makes sense that Don should try to understand the reasons.
Wasn't feeling well. Have angst.