When they where little kids, like Charlie, was three and Don was eight, before Don began to push Charlie away, Charlie would always run to Don's room when he would have a nightmare. At the time Don wondered why Charlie could not be a normal kid and go to Mom and Dad when he would have a nightmare like Don would when he was Charlie's age. But the thought would soon be abandoned when Charlie's tear-filled eyes would look up at him, silently (as words still had yet to find him) begging to go into bed with the older boy. Don would lift the sheets up, and Charlie would cuddle into Don's side without hesitation.
This had not happened in a little over twenty years.
When Don heard the knock on his door at 2:30 a.m. he could not say that he was surprised. The previous case had been challenging for all of them to deal with, especially Charlie. Megan had told Don that the case reminded Charlie of a little girl that grew up in their neighborhood when they were kids. She told Don to take it easy on Charlie, not that she had too he had already forgiven Charlie for his behavior.
Don went to open the door, when he did, he found Charlie on the other side. He was wearing his clothes from yesterday. Charlie looked horrible. He looked as if he had not slept in days, not that any of them had had much to rest in the past few days,
"What's going on, Buddy?" Don asked his little brother, stepping aside to let the smaller man in the house. Charlie hesitated for a moment before walking into the house. He turned to face his brother.
"I-I," Charlie stammered, not making eye contact with his brother. He swallowed thickly. Don waited for his brother to find his words. "I-I'm sorry, for the way-"
Don interrupted his brother, "it's okay, Charlie. I understand, about Jessica."
Charlie gulped, "yeah, yeah, Jessica... Jessica."
Don could tell that Charlie wanted (needed) to say more. He just needed a little push, "what is it, Buddy?"
"I-It's just... that there is a-a... reason I knew," Charlie said.
Don's eyebrows knitted in confusion. That was not cryptic at all.
"Charlie, Buddy. You could not have possibly known you where just a little kid-"
Don was interrupted by his brother's annoyed huff, "but I did know!" Charlie shouted. He was tired of people saying he could not have known. Charlie did know. If his big brother would just listen, he would be able to say what had been strangling him for the last 22 years.
"Okay, Charlie," Don put his hands up to try and pacify Charlie, Don lead Charlie to sit on the couch, while Don sat on the coffee table, "how did you know, Buddy?"
"You know the tutors t-that M-Mom and Dad would hire for me?" Charlie asked, with a scared undertone to his voice.
Don felt sick to his stomach the second the question exited the younger man's mouth. Of course, Don remembers the tutors his parents would hire for Charlie. Most where in math and science, so that Charlie could expand his knowledge in those subjects that he loved so much. Don remembered that they also had to hire an English tutor because Charlie fell behind. Not that it did much good, given how he spells now, as a 29-year-old. None of them had done anything, had they. If anyone had hurt his baby brother...
"Yeah," Don answered, not finishing his thought.
Charlie's breath hitched, and he looked up at Don with tear filled eyes. He saw concern and anger in his brother's eyes. Anger? Don was angry with him. For being too weak to stop it. "Th-This is a mistake. I-I'll go."
Charlie made a move to the door, but Don grabbed his little brother by the arm and said, "no Charlie."
Charlie gasped as if he was in pain, and transported to over twenty years ago.
...
His mommy and daddy just dropped him off at Mr. Janie's house. His tummy hurt real bad. Mr. Janie was not a nice man. He would touch Charlie in his private parts. His daddy told him to tell his if someone touched there. But Mr. Janie said that he would hurt Donnie if he told anyone. He refused to let someone hurt Donnie like Mr. Janie hurt Charlie.
So, he sat there, like a good boy, while Mr. Janie touched him. Mr. Janie also made Charlie touch him in his private parts too. Mr. Janie said that it felt good when the boy touched him, and he was a good boy for making Mr. Janie feel so good.
He did not feel like a good boy though. He felt terrible and filthy.
...
"No!" Charlie screamed panic spread thought he chest. At that moment it was not his big brother in front of him. It was Mr. Janie, and he was trying to keep him there so he could hurt Charlie. He did not wanna be hurt anymore; he wanted Donnie!
Don watched as his baby brother sunk to the floor with a sob. Charlie had drug Don with him, and Dan kneeled down next to Charlie.
"No, no Mr. Janie, please! Don't hurt me, anymore, please. Don't hurt me. Don't touch me there, please. Donnie help."
Don felt like he was going to be sick. His little brother had just told him that he got... hurt by Mr. Janie. That was his English tutor. No wonder Charlie hated English so much.
"Hey, Buddy. Calm down. It's Donnie; it's Donnie. Baby, it's Donnie."
When Don called Charlie 'Baby' it brought him back to reality. "Donnie," Charlie sobbed. He tackled his big brother in a hug and cried into his shoulder.
"I-I'm sorry, Donnie," Charlie cried.
"There is no reason to be sorry, Buddy," Don said, tears in his own eyes. He should have known. Charlie should have been able to come to him.
"I-I should've told. I didn't tell anyone. I couldn't stop him," Charlie babbled.
"Charlie, Baby there wasn't anything you could do. You were just a kid," Don knew that Charlie SHOULD have come to someone. But he did not, that was in the past. He had to help his brother now.
Charlie sniffled and snuggled closer to his brother's chest.
"Shh, Buddy, shh. Everything's okay. He's not here anymore." There was no more accurate statement than that. Mr. Janie died. Has been dead for twenty years.
"Then why am I so scared?" Charlie asked.
Don did not know the answer to that question; he merely tightened his hold on his brother. Charlie continued to cry as Don rocked him from side to side and whispered sweet nothingness in his ear.
It was well past four in the morning when Charlie calmed down enough to lift his head off his big brother's chest.
"I-I.."
Don wanted to hit his brother upside the head. He was about to apologize for something that he should not have to for the third time that morning. Where did Charlie get the need to say sorry all the time from anyway?
"Don't," Don ordered in a calm but firm voice. "you have nothing to be sorry for."
"Your shirt's all wet," Charlie whispered.
"I don't care about that," Don said. He could have laughed at that under different circumstances.
"Don, can I stay here, please," Charlie asked, shyly.
Don did laugh at that, "of course, Buddy."
Don was able to get Charlie to his feet and too Don's room. Don put Charlie in his bed; he would sleep on the couch. Don tucked his comforter around his baby brother and turned to exit.
When he reached the doorway, he heard whimpering coming from Charlie. He went back to his baby brother. When he ran his hand through his brother's hair, he settled. He sat down on his bed.
Tomorrow things would go back to normal. If Charlie ever wanted to talk about it again, okay. But right now he would sit on the bed, and wait for his little brother to fall back asleep.