Alright, 3 things to know about this:
1) It says "26 Ways to Whump Charlie", so you'll have to expect some sort of Charlie-whump (surprising, I know), which – at least with me – usually comes along with Don-angst, so there won't be much variety in these stories emotion-wise. And since not even our poor math genius can be that unlucky, these 26 ways aren't meant to occur all in the same universe. Just consider them possibilities of what might happen.
2) It says "26 Ways to Whump Charlie", but please don't take it literally (or should that be numerically…?). I probably won't get all the way to Z, but I just have so many story ideas floating around in my head that I decided I had to get rid of them somehow – fast. So, here you are, a lot of one-shots with stuff that could fill stories if one only had the time.
3) English is not my native language. I'll try my best and I'm hoping that the errors I'm bound to make aren't too blatant and repellant to keep you from reading. In any case I'm always open to corrections (grammatically or otherwise).
Enough with the preliminaries, let's start with A! This was actually part of a story I had already started, so it's quite long and was intended to be even longer with more plot twists and a lot more whumping, so just imagine the rest ;) The next ones will be shorter.
Disclaimer: Numb3rs doesn't belong to me.
Timeline: Let's say season 3, shall we?
Arrested
"We should check if he has any links to any kind of mafia," Don said, looking down at the unfortunate victim. His ID said he was 41, but his face and his whole body for that matter were so bashed up that Don would have had a hard time to determine that otherwise. The crime scene unit had just finished the rest of the room and they were just about to loosen the ropes that kept the dead Dr. Mark Averell bound to the wooden chair he was sitting on so that he could be transported from the motel room to the morgue. "This looks a lot like their kind of handiwork." He looked up at Colby who was examining the victim's phone. "Anything on his cell that points in that direction?"
"Not yet," Colby muttered. "But I'm just getting started."
That was true. He couldn't know however how soon he would find something of significance. He had just opened the record of the victim's latest contacts, and stopped short. He frowned and took his own cell out to check the number, for this had to be some weird coincidence, right?
As it turned out, it wasn't.
"Don?" Colby still had the frown on his face. This was something of significance, no doubt about it. But there was also no doubt in his mind that Don would not be glad to hear the news he was bearing.
"Found something already?"
Colby nodded, wondering how he was going to tell him. "It's the record of recent contacts."
"What, somebody on there we know?"
Colby nodded. He knew Don was talking about known criminals, that he thought that in the records he had found the number of an infamous mafia boss or a notorious small-time criminal, but he certainly hadn't meant something like that.
"It's Charlie."
Don looked at him with confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Charlie's the last person the victim called."
When they approached his office, they could hear the wild and furious click-clack of chalk on the board even through the closed door. As usual, Don opened it while knocking and saw his brother standing at the blackboard, scribbling. This time, however, his brother didn't finish his thought as he usually did, but flinched violently at the noise.
"Don! Geez, you startled me."
"No kidding," Don answered and tried to smile, but the situation was too grave for him to succeed.
"Hey, David," Charlie greeted him as an afterthought before turning towards both of them. "What's going on? You got a new case?"
Don nodded, wondering how he should approach the subject. Not that he hadn't pondered the question on the way here – he had been hardly able to think of anything else –, but his musings had come to no conclusion.
"Look, you know I'm always happy to help you," Charlie said, "but I'm kind of in the middle of something here and it might take me a couple of days to finish it."
Don nodded and watched his brother intently. He hated himself for it, but he realized he was automatically looking for signs that Charlie was hiding something. Maybe he wouldn't have done that, at least not before telling him what had happened, if his brother hadn't given him so much to work with. But the fact was, he had flinched violently at their entrance, and he was talking much too fast, with too nervous an energy. And Don also wondered if it had ever happened before that Charlie had refused his help so promptly. But then again, maybe he was just busy, maybe he had been working all night, and probably he was working on too much caffeine. No, he was just seeing what he saw because he was eying Charlie as a witness, not as his brother, he was sure of it.
Or almost sure.
"I'm afraid we can't take 'no' for an answer this time," he said and realized how solemn his voice sounded. But then again, he didn't know how well Charlie knew the victim and how hard he would take his death. Charlie generally had a hard time dealing with change, and death was a pretty definite form of it. But there was no way he could spare Charlie that. "We need you as a witness."
He saw Charlie frown instantly. "A witness?"
"Yes." He exchanged a look with David, secretly hoping he would take the lead, for he himself had still no idea how to approach the subject.
It worked. "Charlie," David said, "do you know someone named Mark Averell?"
Don instantly knew why he had taken David with him. The man was just someone who never lost his professionalism, and neither his calm. Plus, his calm demeanor was usually contagious.
Charlie stared at him. What should he say? Could they know something, anything about their… connection? But they came here, asking him as a witness…
"He's a friend of mine," he finally said, fervently hoping that Mark hadn't told or wouldn't tell them something different.
He saw David exchange another one of those solemn looks with his brother. Something was obviously going on. But why wouldn't they say? "What?"
Don looked at him intensely, earnestly, and said: "I'm very sorry, Charlie, but Mark Averell is dead."
The words rang in Charlie's ears and for some time – was it a second? Or a minute? He couldn't tell – for some time his mind was simply empty. He didn't understand, didn't want to understand, and just stood there staring into his brother's dark eyes. Then the words sank in, and slowly, very slowly, the realization of their significance, of what they really meant, began to dawn on him.
"I don't understand," he said, and it was true. He needed to understand, though, he needed to know what was going on in order to decide what to do.
"I'm sorry, Charlie," Don repeated. "He was killed last night."
"Killed?" Charlie swallowed. "By whom?"
"That's what we're trying to find out," said David while Don examined his brother's appearance. Charlie had reacted with a kind of shock that had to be genuine, there was no way his brother could fake that, and Don hated himself for feeling a wave of relief go through him. So things lay as it had been clear all along: Charlie didn't know anything about the murder, he was not connected to it in any way.
So why had he been the last person the victim had called?
"We found out that he called you last night," he heard David say. "What was that about?"
Charlie didn't answer at once. He seemed a bit shaky, so Don was rather relieved when he let himself sink into a chair. He watched him shake his head, gazing intently into nothing, obviously still trying to process the news. "It was just a social call," he said with a strange, toneless voice. It had become hoarse, too, Don noticed. "He just wanted to know how I was doing."
Again, the two agents exchanged solemn look before David spoke again. "And that took you less than a minute?"
Charlie didn't answer at once and when he did, he directed his words at the desk in front of him. "He asked me to come over. To… chat."
The look that the agents exchanged now wasn't solemn anymore, but rather confused. Alarmed. True, Charlie's two statements about the phone call didn't exclude each other, but still, it was odd that he hadn't said right away that Averell had asked him to meet. Why wouldn't he just say that right away? Unless, of course, he had something to hide…
David shook his head. He couldn't imagine for the world that Charlie had anything to do with Averell's death. He also knew, however, that he had to remain objective. He couldn't dismiss facts just because of his own ideas what could and could not have happened the night before. Maybe Charlie knew something that could help them solve the case, maybe he didn't even realize what he knew. Dismissing facts or shunning away from considering certain theories would only make it so much harder to get to the truth of it all.
"So, did you meet him?" he finally asked.
Charlie nodded, still addressing the desk. "I went to his motel room at around 4:30. He has temporarily moved out of the apartment he shares with his wife, you know. We talked for almost an hour. Then I left."
David nodded. They had already established that Averell's marriage was apparently at a pretty tight spot at the moment. He had started renting the motel room where they'd found his body roughly a week before. "Did you see anybody else there? Maybe outside the motel?"
Charlie shook his head.
"Did he mention to you that he was going to meet with anyone else that evening?"
Another shake of the head.
"'No', he didn't mention it, or 'no', he didn't meet with anyone else?"
It took Charlie a moment to answer and when he did, his voice was low and raspy. "He didn't mention it."
"Alright… so where did you go after you met with him?"
David was sure to notice some hesitation before Charlie answered his question, but then again, that could also be due to the fact that he realized that his friend was asking for his alibi. "I came here, to CalSci. I had to finish grading some papers."
David nodded, then looked up at his boss, not sure how to continue the interview. Should he ask more questions about what Charlie had noticed at his visit? Then again, Charlie wasn't the most observant person in the world. Even if there had been some strange events or persons or whatever, he was probably unaware of them. Still, they should ask Megan to do a cognitive interview with him to help him remember, for the coroner had placed the time of death between six and eight in the evening.
But for now, he thought it wiser to find out more about Charlie's connection to the victim. If Don wasn't okay with that, he could still step in. For now, however, he seemed quite comfortable with his silent, earnest role of the observer.
"So… what did you two talk about?"
Charlie shrugged, eyes still fixed on the wooden structure of the desk. "Work, mostly. Mark specializes in all kinds of computer software. We were thinking about developing a program together."
David frowned. "I thought you were meeting socially."
That finally got him a wry smile. "With me, those two usually intersect. Private stuff and work, I mean."
David nodded. That made sense, at least in Charlie's case. "So what was that program about?" Maybe someone had killed Averell for his work?
Charlie shook his head. "Some new kind of search engine. It was more on a whim than anything else, really."
"Alright… Anything else that comes to mind? Anything suspicious, anything he said, anything you saw?"
Charlie shook his head.
"Alright." David stood and looked at Don, a bit uncertain. He didn't really like what they had learned so far, but he also wasn't sure how far he could push Charlie right now. He had just learned about a friend's death, after all, and he did have a certain history of emotional instability.
Don seemed to think the same thing. "Alright, buddy," he said very quietly. "Thanks." He gave Charlie's upper arm a little squeeze and said: "Take care." When Charlie nodded, they left the room with every intent to make some sense of this whole mess.
As the investigation moved along, it became apparent just how deeply Charlie had gotten himself into trouble. Initially, it had seemed as though Averell's wife might have had something to do with his murder. After all, the marriage didn't seem to be blossoming. However, apart from the MO that didn't really fit a wife, Sheila Averell had a pretty tight alibi, she'd gone out with colleagues after work and everyone she'd been with, including some waiters, had been able to confirm that she hadn't left the restaurant until 9:30. Now, she wasn't only innocent, but she had also a very definite idea of who might have killed her husband. Bad thing: she accused Charlie of it.
It wasn't what Megan had been expecting when she conducted the witness interview with Sheila Averell and asked her the standard question if she could think of anyone who might have done that. Instead of a standard answer like 'No, everyone liked him', Sheila had been ready to attack. "It was his new friend, Charlie Eppes. He's a professor of some sort here in L.A."
Megan tried hard not to show any emotion, but to keep her professional stance. "What makes you think that?"
"He was afraid of him. And he was always so secretive! Before he knew him, everything was fine between us, but then he withdrew completely. And every time he said he had to meet with that Eppes guy, he had that look in his eyes. I tell you, he was terrified!"
"So why did he meet him?"
Sheila bit her lip. "I don't know. I suspected maybe he blackmailed him? But normally Mark would never do that! It's just… ever since they met, he's been so… different."
"Do you know where they met? And when?"
"It was some kind of conference. It lasted five days, Monday to Friday, about… yes, three weeks ago."
Megan nodded and she, too, bit her lip. It was true, Charlie had been gone during that time. He'd changed, too. She hadn't thought much of it before, but now she realized he'd been a little bit more jumpy than he'd already been. There'd been a lot of nervous energy, but she'd thought it was just the stress of whatever he was working on. That happened from time to time, after all, Charlie often consulted on projects that were beyond classified.
"Alright, thank you, Mrs. Averell, you've been a great help." She forced herself to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Please stay available for us."
They just couldn't catch a break. Apart from Mrs. Averell's statement, the crime scene investigators hadn't found anything that could be interpreted in favor of Charlie. They'd found his DNA on a glass on the coffee table and some other DNA samples they hadn't been able to identify yet. But it was a motel room, after all, and what mattered was that none of the DNA samples pointed towards any other criminal.
Worst of all: Charlie's alibi hadn't checked out. He'd told them he had left Averell's motel room at about 5:30 and then gone to CalSci. Problem was: he hadn't arrived at CalSci until 8 o'clock that evening. The security video from CalSci's parking lot confirmed that beyond a doubt. So Charlie had lied to them about his whereabouts during the time of the murder… what the hell was going on here?
Don ran his hands through his hair, not for the first time. He was sitting at his desk and tried desperately to think of something he could do, something other than question their most viable suspect. He couldn't think of anything.
"Alright," he sighed, and the concerned looks his three team members exchanged went completely unnoticed by him. "You should bring him in."
Outside, in the CalSci Parking lot, David and Colby stared miserably through the windshield.
"Alright," David finally said, "I guess there's no other way. Will you do the honor?"
Colby stared at him, then shook his head with conviction. "No way. You're the senior agent, as you never get tired of pointing out, that'd be your job."
"Well, I am the senior agent, so if I tell you to do it, you have to follow my order."
"Really? You'll order me? Man, I thought we were friends?"
David sighed. "Straws?" he finally suggested. He hated his own diplomacy when, few seconds later, he drew the short straw. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, then sighed again. "Come on, let's get it over with."
As usual, Charlie's office door was open, but today, it wasn't the sound of chalk on blackboards that emanated from the room, but the sound of keystrokes on a computer. But as usual, that didn't keep the two agents from stepping in while knocking lightly at the open door. Quite out of the usual, however, they hesitated as they drew nearer, neither one sure how to do this nor willing to do it at all.
Charlie, still blessedly ignorant of what was in store for him, hit a few final keys on his laptop, then closed it and lifted his head to smile at his visitors. "Hey, what's up?"
He sounded pleasant enough, but David couldn't help but notice that the smile was less genuine than usual, more strained, and there was definitely some sad emotion in Charlie's eyes. But then again, he had just lost a friend, there was nothing suspicious about this kind of behavior.
And why would there be, an angry voice inside his head shouted. He has nothing to hide! The defiant voice was drowned however – and somewhat incomprehensibly – by a much quieter one: You don't know that. Keep an open mind. You can't just make those kind of premises, that's what Charlie would tell you.
Right. Maybe that would be David's defense when Charlie protested at what was about to come.
"Hey, Charlie," he said, feeling unaccountably nervous. What the hell was he supposed to say? Alright, it wasn't like this was the first time he had to give someone the speech. But this was definitely different. "You, uh… You have to come with us."
"Right now?" The smile was still on his face, but David noticed a wariness that had crept into Charlie's eyes.
"Yeah, Charlie, now, we're sorry." David's head jerked towards his partner at Colby's words. David had been sure that his partner was only too glad to leave him the lead on this one. The fact that he was joining the conversation and thus helping him on his nasty assignment made him feel touched.
Charlie rose slowly and looked them both in the eyes, first Colby, then David. "May I ask what this is about?"
"Yeah, sure." David had to clear his throat. "The fact is…" And again. "We're here to arrest you. You're suspected to be linked to the murder of Doctor Mark Averell." So. That was that. The hardest part was done. David continued with the Miranda rights, but somehow, that didn't make things any better. Charlie was still standing there before them, waiting silently, with a look on his face that David couldn't put a name on. It was definitely not what he'd expected, he had expected shock, surprise, probably hurt or disappointment, maybe anger. There was none of that there. The only thing he could discern for certain was sadness.
"Could you please put your hands out in front of you?" By now David had hardly any voice left and was clearing his voice almost constantly. "We'll have to cuff you."
Charlie complied wordlessly while David fumbled with his cuffs with fingers that seemed as reluctant as his voice to comply with the task.
It was finally Colby who couldn't hold himself back any longer. "Look, Charlie, we're sorry, it's not like we have a choice here!" he blurted out. "It's just procedure, we have to make sure we play this by the book."
Charlie's voice was calm when he responded. "Did Don send you?"
"Yeah Charlie, but he doesn't have a choice, either! It's just that we have too much circumstantial evidence to ignore it, if Don hadn't made us arrest you, the A.D would have had his head. And his badge, probably."
David was done with the cuffs and now that Charlie was finished with watching the procedure, he turned his eyes up to look Colby directly in the eye. "Don't worry. I understand."
"Look, this is really just procedure. You'll probably be back out tonight."
"I told you. I understand. Don't worry about it."
Colby sent an uneasy glance toward his partner. Somehow, hearing those words didn't made him lose his worry, but increase it.
When they arrived at headquarters, Don stood up from his desk so immediately that he must have eyed the elevator constantly. He emanated nervousness, obviously expecting Charlie would be upset. He didn't even recognize the curious glances the other agents threw in their direction, but with a short and subdued greeting instantly pulled Charlie gently over to one of the interrogation rooms.
As soon as the door had closed behind them, he started to defend himself, though he had difficulty looking his brother in the eyes. "Look, Charlie, I'm sorry we have to do this –"
"No," Charlie interrupted him, and now Don just had to look at him. "Don't be. I understand."
Don licked his lips nervously and sat down at the table across from Charlie. "Look, we'll get this all sorted out, alright?" He swallowed. "Have you already asked for your phone call?"
Charlie was smiling sadly. "You're going to record that, right?"
Don frowned. What kind of question was that, anyway? "Of course."
"Then no, thanks."
Okay, what was happening? His brother might be a bit confused right now, he'd grant him that, but he still had to be able to think logically, right? "Charlie – I said we would sort everything out, and we will. But you might still need a lawyer."
Charlie's quiet voice was making him even more nervous. "I'll pass. Thanks."
Something was definitely not going as it should. What was going on in Charlie's mind? His actions made no sense. Unless he was hiding something, that is. But… he had to realize that anything he was hiding was irrelevant compared to the charges he was facing, right?
"Okay, Charlie, here's how this works. You're gonna tell me exactly how you and Averell met, what your connection was and what happened last night. And you're gonna tell me fast. I don't know how long I can stay on this case. As soon as the A.D. finds out you're a suspect, he'll give the case to someone else. You got that?"
Charlie's voice was quiet and he didn't look at him when he answered. "So why are you so keen on keeping this case? Just hand it over to someone else."
His brother must have lost his mind. "Charlie! Someone else might not know that you're innocent! Do you have any idea what they're gonna do? They'll tear your life apart. We have to figure out what happened to Averell before they can do that! So what do you know about him? Who might have done this?"
"I don't know."
"Charlie, you're gonna have to do better than that." He sighed deeply. His little brother really wasn't helping. "Alright. You told us you left Averell at around 5:30 and came straight back to CalSci, right?"
Charlie looked up at him, but didn't say a word.
"Damn it, Charlie, why did you lie to us?! We know you weren't at CalSci until 8 that evening! So where were you?"
Charlie was silent.
"Talk to me, buddy."
He didn't.
A bitter laugh – one that sounded quite hysterical – escaped from Don's throat. "Charlie, look, I wanna help you, but you have to talk to me!"
That finally made Charlie's head come up and look at Don. That look, however, was one that made Don almost tumble over. There was a graveness in those eyes that made shudders run down his spine. "Let me be clear on this," Charlie said slowly, his voice firm. "I don't want your help. I do not want you to treat me in any special way just because I'm your brother."
It had to be the tone, but all of a sudden, Don was no longer merely confused; he was scared. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I don't want you to protect me. And I especially don't want you to risk ruining your career over this. So if you find I'm guilty, just do what you normally do. Detain me, hand me over to a judge, and let them handle the rest."
"Charlie…" His throat was suddenly dry and that reflected in a more than hoarse voice. "What are you trying to tell me? Did you… did you kill this man?" He couldn't have, it just wasn't possible, but then, why was he acting this way?
"I'm not saying anything else."
Before Don could try to talk some sense into him, the door whooshed open and a clean-shaven, middle-aged man in an obviously expensive suit entered with Colby on his heels.
"Don, this is –"
"My name is Harrison Malloway," the man interrupted him, stretching his hand out towards Don. "I'm Dr. Eppes's lawyer."
Don looked from the lawyer to Charlie and back, confusion written all over his face. "Who called you? I know for a fact that it wasn't Charlie, so if you don't want to get deep into trouble, you're gonna show me your credentials."
"Don –"
"Nice and slow!" he added, ignoring his brother.
"Don!" Well, seemed like he wouldn't comply with being ignored. Don finally turned his attention back to him, though still making sure from out of the corners of his eye that the alleged lawyer wouldn't do something hinky. "Don, it's okay. This is my lawyer."
"But –"
"You should probably leave us alone now. You know, adhering to regulations and stuff."
Don just stared at him, his mouth open. When had his brother become this calm, determined stranger? Yeah, okay, he was more than self-reliant when he was talking about math, be it in front of a full auditory of students or in front of hardened FBI agents. And from what Don had noticed on several occasions – presentations of math awards, gala dinners and the kind – his brother also appeared remarkably at ease around important people – politicians and high-ranking business-men, people that tended to intimidate even Don. But this? This wasn't math-related in any way, and the task wasn't just having polite small-talk for a couple of hours. This was about Charlie's future, possibly his life.
How could he be so calm about that?
He looked at Colby for help, but should have known it was a lost cause. Colby shook his head. "I checked his credentials, Don. He's legit."
He sighed deeply, closed his eyes and gave Charlie one last look. "You're sure about that?"
"I'm sure."
"Alright. We'll be waiting right outside."
"You know, it's probably a good thing," Megan said when they were assembled in Don's cubicle, just a few steps away from the door to the interrogation room where Charlie conversed with his lawyer.
Colby agreed. "Yeah, you said yourself that he should have a lawyer present. Plus, that lawyer can probably make the kid realize that it's in his best interest to tell us what's going on, so we can finally get somewhere in this mess."
"Yeah", David chimed in, "but if we can't establish Charlie's innocence soon, we'll have to think about what to do next. I mean, you can't keep this from the A.D. forever, Don."
Don just stared at him. "You want me to hand off the case to someone else?"
"I'm just saying –"
"Do me a favor, David, just keep your mouth shut." Megan and Colby exchanged a glance over David's head and silently agreed to let Don have his way for now, at least until Charlie's lawyer came back out. Seemed like a lost cause to try to talk sense into him anyway.
"You'll see," Don started again with more conviction in his voice than he actually felt, "as soon as they're done talking in there, Charlie's gonna tell us what he knows and then we'll be able to get to the bottom of this."
Megan bit his lip, wavering in her decision to postpone the necessary discussion. Especially if they had a lead that Charlie's statement provided them with, they should step down due to being biased. In any case, Charlie would have to stay detained until his name was cleared.
Just then, the lawyer emerged from the interrogation room and Don was on his feet in an instant. Malloway eyed him coolly. "My client has assured me that he has told you everything there is to tell, so we'd be very obliged to you if you stopped harassing him."
Don, stunned, wanted to interject, but Malloway wouldn't let him. "In the meanwhile, I'm going to inform your superiors of the situation. I think it's hardly appropriate that you would investigate your own brother's case, don't you think?"
Before Don could say anything to that, the lawyer had turned away and was making his way towards the elevators.
"Well, shit," he cursed softly. Then he turned around to his team. "Go over everything we've got once again, see if we missed anything."
Knowing there was no point in arguing, they nodded and set to their task.
This was never going to work, and to make things worse, time was running against them. As soon as Charlie's lawyer would have had a chance to talk with the A.D., Don's team would be pulled off the case and there would be nothing he could do.
Well, at least not officially.
He slipped through the door and peeked into the observation room to make sure it was empty. Then he sat down at the table in the interrogation room again, stopped the recording, moved the microphone that was sitting between them some distance away, and leaned forward, as close toward his brother as he could.
"This is it, buddy," he said urgently, but kept his voice low, just to be sure. "As soon as your lawyer returns, I'll be off the case, and they won't let me talk to you again." Charlie's head was still bent down, but he had raised his eyes to meet his brother's gaze, so Don knew he was listening. "Look, I know you're scared, but I can help you. Nobody's listening right now, this is completely between us. Now off the record, what's going on here?"
Charlie lifted his head a bit, holding his intense gaze into Don's eyes. As easy as it usually was – especially for Don – to read his younger brother's expressions, this time, he couldn't for the life of him decipher what was going on inside that head. Would Charlie trust him enough to confide in him? And if not, then what the hell was Don going to do?
Please, Charlie, please, he prayed silently, fervently. Please just tell me why you're doing this… He wouldn't be able to use that testimony, that was true, but at least he would have something to go on, something to put him into the right direction so that maybe he could find further evidence to corroborate Charlie's story. You just have to tell me…
"Off the record?" Don's heart made a leap at the sound of the low, slightly raspy voice. "Promise?"
Charlie's eyes were still inscrutable, there was only one thing he could discern in that look: fear. Damn it, he just had to help him, no matter the cost, no matter how dangerous this situation was. "Promise," he replied in as low a voice as before, and it astounded him not a little that it could be heard over the rapid beating of his heart.
"Alright," came Charlie's voice over the table, quietly, tonelessly. He had bowed his had back down some degrees, but was still locking eyes with Don. His eyes now held not only something frightened, but also, as Don was shocked to notice, something frightening. But at least he would know now what was going on, at least –
"I did it."
Don was sure he had misunderstood. That would be more than comprehensible, for all of a sudden, something was wrong, very wrong with his senses. There was a ringing sensation in his ears, and also his sight wasn't as steady as he was used to. He fought his way back to Charlie's eyes, to those dark, quiet and suddenly so unsettling eyes.
"What?" His voice was barely a whisper. This wasn't happening, he just couldn't –
"I did it. I killed Averell."
The ringing sensation was still there, but Don was quite sure he had heard right, although that raised more questions than it answered.
"I don't believe you," he managed, although his voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper. It was the truth, however – he didn't believe him, he would never believe, never allow himself to believe, that Charlie was capable of… It just couldn't be true.
But then why had he said it?
"Why are you lying?"
Both Charlie's gaze and his voice seemed steady enough when he answered, maybe there was a slight tremble in them, but then, Don didn't trust his senses enough to be sure right now. "I'm not lying. I killed him."
Suddenly there was a loud noise, and it took Don a moment to realize he had caused it himself by slamming his hand on the table. "Stop it, now!" he hissed, and it was all he could do to keep his voice down. "That doesn't make any sense! Why on earth would you do something like that?"
Charlie seemed completely unperturbed by Don's outburst. Or had the trembling increased? "I can't tell you why. But I told you I did it. There's nothing you can do for me, Don. I appreciate your efforts, but you should really stay down now. I don't want you to get into trouble, especially not because of me."
Don couldn't help it. Tears were pressing against the back of his eyes, and he couldn't help it that at least some of them were spilled. "But… Charlie…" He noticed the desperation that had crept into his voice, but couldn't ban it. "If they convict you, you'll… damn it, Charlie, it's either life in prison or the death row!"
The tears were coming in earnest now and Don tried impatiently to wipe them off his face. He had to stay strong, for Charlie. Or did he? Charlie seemed so unbelievingly calm, in spite of everything…
Well, he thought bitterly, maybe there was still hope for him to be declared clinically insane.
Don buried his face in his hands and tried to take deep breaths. He had to calm down. He had to calm down. This wasn't over yet. There had to be something he could do for his brother, something…
He felt a hand on his arm and his head jerked upwards, just to look into Charlie's solemn eyes. Now, he could finally see emotion in them – sorrow, regret, and… what was that? Compassion? He thought he could still see fear somewhere amongst it all, but that wasn't what lay on the surface now.
"I'm sorry," he heard his little brother's voice and finally, Charlie's eyes became moist, too. "Tell Dad I never meant to put him through that. And… and I'm sorry for doing this to you. It must be awfully embarrassing." He swallowed and looked down at the table. "You should go now. They wouldn't be too excited if they saw us talking privately. You should just keep your head down and let everything go its due course. There's nothing you could do anyway."
Don just stared at him, his vision still a bit blurry through the tears. "Charlie –"
"I mean it, Don. Stay out of this. You'd only destroy yourself by trying to help me, and you can't do that." He swallowed again and his voice came out less steadily at his next words. "Dad will need you."
The sentence brought Don back into the present and stopped his much too graphic musings about the future. He couldn't break down now. He had to keep his head in the game, had to exude strength, for all of them. He had to keep his family together.
He ran his hands over his face, wiping both the tears and the desperate expression away. Then he was back. Well, as much back as could be expected under the circumstances.
"Alright, Charlie," he said, recognizing with a bitter sense of satisfaction that his voice sounded much stronger now, much more determined. "Just hang in there, alright?" He stood and put a hand that he hoped was comforting on Charlie's shoulder. His brother was right, there was nothing he could do here, at least not as long as Charlie was determined on keeping him out of the investigation. Investigating wasn't all he could do, though. Charlie would need them, sooner or later. Especially if he wound up in prison. "Whatever happens, I'm here. If there's anything I can do, just tell me, I'll do whatever I can. You can count on me, Charlie, I mean it. I'm not going let you down. I promise."
Charlie smiled, but it was a sad smile and now the tears had broken free. "Thank you," he whispered. "You're the best brother in the world, you know that?" The smile widened a bit and an almost playful glint crept into his eyes. "Now get out of here."
And so, squeezing Charlie's shoulder one last time, Don left him alone in the interrogation room, about to be questioned, tried and convicted for murder.
There was a number of reasons why Don was reluctant to leave the FBI building, his brother being unable to do so because he was spending the night in a holding cell being one of them. After his A.D. had come down to inform him in no uncertain ways that he and his team were off the case and that he should better hope the team that would be investigating Charlie's case now would find nothing wrong with his investigation so far, he'd felt as helpless as probably never before in his life. There was something he could do, however, something he had to do even, although his stomach turned at the thought of having to perform this task.
His childhood home, usually welcoming with a warm and comforting atmosphere, stood before him in the darkness like a menacing monster. After talking to Charlie, he had avoided his team's conversation, not knowing how he would deal with them and with the new knowledge he possessed. He had promised Charlie that what he told him was off the record, he had assured him that there was no one else listening, so it wasn't his place to share his secret with his co-workers. Anyway, he wasn't sure how they would react. Sure, they were amiable enough with Charlie, but would their loyalty extend to fighting for a murderer? And yet, if they continued to help him look for evidence in Charlie's favor, to try and clear his name, didn't they deserve to know what he knew?
Maybe the problem was that Don still couldn't get his head around what Charlie had confessed to him. If he hadn't heard Charlie speak the words himself, he wouldn't believe it, in fact, before today he had would have had committed anyone who would have suggested that Charlie would be able of purposefully hurting anyone, let alone kill someone.
Don groaned and buried his head in his hands, still sitting behind the steering wheel of his SUV. It had been several hours and he still hadn't made up his mind. He knew he would spend most part of the night awake and when morning came he probably wouldn't be any wiser. But that wasn't even the biggest problem – or at least it wasn't the problem at hand right now. The problem at hand lurked inside that big old house with its deceiving welcoming atmosphere, a quiet, happy atmosphere that Don was about to destroy. Don knew that if he sat here much longer, he would lose himself in his dark thoughts and then he might very well lose the fight against the tears. So he pulled himself together with an effort and headed for the front door.
He had hardly opened the door when his father's slightly irritated voice floated towards him from the kitchen.
"Charlie? You're late again! I was just about to put the leftovers in the fridge."
"Hey, Dad, it's me."
His father emerged from the kitchen, drying his hands with a dish towel. "Donnie! What a nice surprise! If your brother doesn't show up soon, you can have those leftovers. Would serve him right."
"He won't be home for dinner tonight." He saw a look of concern wash over his father's face and hastened to say: "He's at the FBI." Not in the hospital. Not dead.
Now concern made way for confusion. "He's still there and you're not? What's going on?"
Don sighed. "Let's sit?"
Alan ignored him thoroughly. "Donald Alan Eppes, what's going on?"
So Don sat down himself, both because he was hoping to instill the same behavior into his father and because he didn't trust his own legs right now. It worked. But now, there was no way he could stall any further. This was the moment of truth.
"Charlie's currently being held as a suspect."
"What? At the FBI? And you didn't stop them? What on earth is going on?"
Don deliberately skipped over the third question and forced himself to answer the fourth one. "He's a suspect in a murder investigation."
Alan just stared at him, obviously unable to form words. "This is a joke, right?" he finally said and peeked out of the windows as if he was expecting to see Charlie loitering out there.
Don was looking at the table intently. He had no strength to look his father in the eye anymore. "It's not a joke."
Confusion now made way for downright anger. "Then you're crazy! Or at least your colleagues are! Didn't you tell them there was no way Charlie could do something like that?"
For a moment, Don entertained the thought of telling Alan what Charlie had told him, that he'd indeed killed that man, just to defend himself and his colleagues. He shrank away from the idea instantly. He couldn't do that to his father, not when he knew that Charlie hadn't been telling the truth. And he did know that, right? He knew his brother was incapable of murder, of such a horrible, torturous murder anyway. He just didn't know why Charlie was acting the way he did. But there had to be an explanation, there was no way Charlie was involved in this…
"Look, I know he didn't do it. But there's just a lot of circumstantial evidence and they'll need time to process everything." He knew he should probably tell his dad that talking of 'them' was slightly misleading since it had been Don himself who'd made the initial move and arrested his little brother. Why had he done that again? He sighed deeply. If he could just erase this day from his memory…
"So what?" demanded Alan. "You're just staying here, doing nothing?"
"I tried, Dad!" Don's voice became more desperate. "There's nothing more I can do! I'm off the case! They won't allow me anywhere near Charlie, probably not even near the investigating team!" He ran his hands over his face. "Look, it's just one night in a holding cell. We'll know more tomorrow."
Seems like he'd said the wrong thing. "Holding cell? He's spending the night in a holding cell?" Just what had his father expected?
"Look Dad, it's an isolation cell, it's not like there are any other criminals around. And it's just for one night." His voice now sounded not only desperate, but downright tearful. "I'm gonna make it up to him, I swear." And why again did he feel the need to make things up to Charlie when it was Charlie who had gotten himself in this mess? Well, neither his voice nor his eyes seemed to care for the lack of logic in his thinking. "I just don't know what to do anymore!"
He could feel strong arms around his shoulders and looked up only to see Alan's somber face. "I know, son. I'm sorry. I know you've done everything you could. And you're right, it's only one night. I'm sure everything will get resolved in the morning."
Don nodded, just to appease his father. How were they to resolve this mess if the only one who could shed some light into it was adamant not to talk?
The next morning, Don had hardly arrived at work when he saw Megan hurrying towards him. "Don, the A.D. is expecting you."
Damn. He should have known that his breach of protocol the previous day would have had more severe consequences than the slap on the wrist he'd already gotten. But Megan went on: "In fact, he asked the whole team to come up."
"Did he say what it's about?"
"Well, no, but it's not that hard to guess, don't you think?"
Don sighed. "You're right. I guess we should get it over with." With a heavy heart, he pushed himself out of his chair. They grabbed David and Colby and headed towards the elevator in silence.
Upon arrival on the ninth floor, things weren't proceeding the way Don and his team had expected. They were ushered in a big conference room where half of the currently investigating team was already seated. Plus his A.D. Plus two agents that were definitely not working in this building. Plus Charlie's laywer Harrison Malloway.
"Take a seat, Agents. These are Agents Eppes, Reeves, Sinclair and Granger, they started the investigation," their A.D. explained to the two foreign agents before introducing them. "These are agents Miller and Rabini from the NSA."
For a moment, it was so silent in the room that one could have heard a pin drop. NSA. That made sense, looking at the immaculate dark suits and the non-descript facial features of those two men. But it didn't answer the question what they were doing here.
"Sir, with all due respect – what's going on here?"
"You'll find out soon enough, Agent Eppes. We'll start this meeting as soon as agents Boot and Kipler bring Doctor Eppes up."
Don's gaze swiveled to Marlowe, who was now the lead investigator, and his team member. So that was the reason why only half his team was present; Kevin Boot and Lizzy Kipler were in the process of getting Charlie out of the holding cell.
Still didn't explain much, though.
Since Don had already been admonished to keep quiet, he settled to examining the NSA agents, trying to figure out if he'd ever seen them before. He didn't think so, but then again, with their average looks, he probably wouldn't be able to remember if he had.
His musings were interrupted when the door opened and his eyes fell on his brother. He looked bad, Don decided, like he hadn't slept at all last night, but that didn't really surprise him. What surprised him was the huge sigh of relief that escaped his little brother when his eyes fell on the two NSA agents. For the first time since yesterday, his brother looked like the one he knew, without that mask of quiet determination on his face, just plain old Charlie who wasn't afraid to show emotion.
"I think we can take off those cuffs now," Agent Rabini said and Don immediately took a liking to him. Still, he was a bit overwhelmed when he noticed the look of pure gratitude that Charlie gave the agent.
Agent Lizzy Kipler raised her eye-brows and looked questioningly at the A.D. who just nodded. A smile played around his lips when he said, "I don't think Doctor Eppes is a flight risk right now, not with eleven seasoned agents present."
Neither Don nor Charlie could really appreciate the joke, but that didn't matter since it made Agent Kipler comply. Charlie gave her a small thanks and Don wondered if it had been the last night in the holding cell that had… broken him so much. The fierce look of determination had gone from his eyes, he just seemed tired now.
"Alright," Agent Miller said and Don tried to turn his attention away from his brother towards Miller. Something told him he should listen carefully. "We've asked you to come here because you have become involved in a matter of national security both Doctor Averell and Doctor Eppes have been part of. This matter has now been resolved, but until the case is fully closed and the perpetrators convicted, we have to ask you to keep quiet about this affair. That means that nothing you are going to hear in this meeting will leave the room. Am I being clear?" He eyed each of them, one after another, and seemed satisfied when he got serious albeit slightly confused nods from everyone.
"Good," he continued. "The most important thing you have to know is that Doctor Eppes did not kill Doctor Averell." Don sighed in relief, not because of the information – well, not primarily – but because it meant that the NSA Agents were on Charlie's side. "We can be sure of that because we have already apprehended the murderers. The three of them are currently being held in our holding cells and one of them matches a DNA sample your people have found at the crime scene."
"What makes you sure that Doctor Eppes wasn't part of this group?" Marlowe interrupted. "I mean, no offense, but he has lied about his alibi."
Miller nodded. "That is because Doctor Eppes spent the time between his meeting with Doctor Averell and his return to the university at the NSA headquarters working on the case he and Doctor Averell had been consulting on, starting three weeks ago."
Don shot Charlie a glance and was a bit surprised to see his little brother's eyes already resting upon him. There was a plea for understanding in those eyes, a nervousness that hadn't been there the day before.
"Doctor Eppes couldn't tell you of his involvement and his whereabouts because the case is still classified and strictly on a need-to-know basis. And before you ask: we can be sure of Doctor Eppes' whereabouts because we had an Agent following him for his own security, just like we'd assigned an Agent to Doctor Averell." At his next words, Miller's voice for the first time since he'd spoken showed emotion, although it wasn't easy to determine whether it was guilt, bitterness or sadness. Maybe a bit of all the above. "Sadly, one Agent obviously wasn't enough to watch the motel. The three perpetrators found a way in and managed to get to Doctor Averell."
"I still don't understand," Agent Marlowe said. "Why had they NSA Agents following them?"
Miller sighed. "As I told you, they had been working on an assignment for the NSA three weeks ago. During this time, there were some… incidents that made us worry for their safety."
Okay, now Don couldn't hold himself back any longer. "What kind of incidents?" He tried to figure out something from Charlie's eyes – they were always so expressive – but his brother had resolved to intently watch the table.
"There were… threats. When those threats didn't have any effect, our opponents grew more serious. A car that brought the consultants back and forth between work and the hotel they were staying at was manipulated, although nobody was seriously hurt in the ensuing accident. Shortly afterwards, there was a shooting outside the building they were working in. Again, neither the doctors nor the agents assigned to them were hurt. Nevertheless, we increased security measures from this point onwards. Gladly, nothing else happened until their work was done and they were sent back home. We kept tabs on them until the threat was resolved, but they didn't seem to be in danger anymore. Then, three days ago, we asked them to do some follow-up work – from their respective homes, this time – and they agreed. Due to the nature of their task and the MO of the murder, we assume that the perpetrators tried to get information from Doctor Averell about this investigation. Since we didn't know if they succeeded, we increased the security around Doctor Eppes as soon as we heard about the murder."
Don couldn't help it, anger rose inside him. Might have had something to do with the shock Miller's report had instilled in him. "Oh yeah, you did?! Then explain this to me, if you were watching Charlie so carefully, how did the FBI manage to arrest him and detain him for a whole night before you finally stepped in?"
"Don." Charlie's voice was quiet, but its somber tone and much more than that those expressive eyes managed to make him restrain himself.
"We were watching him," Rubini chimed in. "We were reasonably sure however that he would be safe with the FBI." The smile that played around the agent's lips was almost teasing, but in Don's current mood that didn't really appease him. "In fact, we thought it was the safest place we could find for him at the time, so we sent Mr. Malloway after him to make sure everything was in order; he's been working with us for some time now. Frankly, since Dr. Eppes didn't know him we were a little concerned that he wouldn't let Mr. Malloway represent him legally, but he must have expected something of the kind." All eyes went to Charlie who nodded in affirmation.
Don however still couldn't believe what they were saying. Were they serious? "How could you?" Don was infuriated by now. "How could you make him be arrested just so –"
"Agent!"
"Don."
The two voices interrupted him at the same time, and it wasn't his A.D.'s command, but rather Charlie's quiet voice that inhibited him from going on. He had a feeling he just didn't understand the world anymore.
"We didn't make him do anything, Agent Eppes." This time the lawyer had risen to speak. "When I talked to Dr. Eppes in the interrogation room, it became apparent that he'd thought exactly the same thing as the NSA Agents, that both for him and for their investigation his arrest was the best solution. He'd assured me that he hadn't said anything to incriminate himself, apart from withholding the truth about his whereabouts during the time of the murder. He was hoping and thinking the evidence was strong enough to hold him without him being forced to admit to a murder he didn't commit. So it seemed fairly safe that you would keep him in detention without being able to charge him later for obstruction of justice. All this had already been settled without my help, so the only thing he asked me to do was make sure that you, Agent Eppes, and your team were taken off the case."
He must have heard wrong. "Why?" His voice was thin.
Finally, it was Charlie who spoke up. "I told you, Don. You would have just gotten yourself into trouble."
Don's head was swimming. So Charlie had somehow planned all this? "But… You couldn't anticipate that the NSA arrested those guys last night. This investigation could have dragged on for weeks. They could have convicted you."
Charlie just looked at him and swallowed thickly. "I know." He paused before he spoke again. "But they'd already killed Mark. They would have come after me, too, and there was no telling who might have been caught in the crossfire. Plus," he had to clear his throat, "plus, they couldn't get away with what they did to Mark. I couldn't endanger the NSA investigation by telling you what was going on. I'm sorry."
"Well, I believe this is it," the A.D. started to disband the meeting. "You, Agent Marlowe, can consider your case closed since we'll leave the rest to the NSA. Doctor Eppes, you're free to go. Since the allegations against you were ultimately ill-founded, there won't be any consequences concerning your security clearance either. Thank you, ladies, gentlemen, for your time."
Don was a bit unprepared for the end of the meeting, his mind was still spinning with everything he'd learned in the past half hour. So maybe it was the dazed look in his eyes that made the A.D. call him back while Marlowe's team vanished and Charlie shook hands with the NSA people. "Agent Eppes, I suggest you take the morning off and give your brother a ride home. You look like there are still some things you need to talk about before I can let you back in the field."
Don swallowed. Had it been that obvious? "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."
The elevator was empty aside from his team and Charlie, and maybe that was what made his brother deflate and lean against the wall, showing an amount of exhaustion that was downright alarming.
"So, I guess freedom smells pretty good, huh?" asked David with a smile on his lips while he and Colby patted Charlie's shoulder.
Charlie sighed, his eyes still closed and his head leaning back against the wall of the car. "I guess. I'm so tired I don't really feel anything."
David and Colby, stopped short in their attempt to lighten the mood, glanced nervously at each other.
Megan dealt with the problem in a more head-on, yet still gentle manner. "Are you okay, Charlie?"
He must have sensed their concerned gazes upon him, because he opened his eyes slightly and gave them a muted smile. "I will be. Just hasn't sunk in yet that it's really over now."
The elevator had reached the floor that housed Don's team. "Well, you know, if you need to talk –"
The smile grew more sincere. "I know. Thanks, Megan."
The two brothers made the rest of the elevator ride in silence. In fact, it wasn't until they sat in Don's SUV when the older brother, after a deep sigh, finally felt he had the strength to start this conversation. "So… you got shot at."
Charlie, his head leaning back against the head-rest and his eyes closed, swallowed. He watched his older brother out of the corners of his eyes when he answered with a voice so soft that Don had difficulty to hear him: "Yeah."
Don couldn't help it, he was angry. "Is that all you've got to say about that?"
His brother was silent, but Don could see him swallow. "Charlie, you could have died! You never thought about mentioning that?!"
If it hadn't been so unusual for his brother, Don might have thought that Charlie was pissed as well. He certainly gave the impression. "It was classified, Don. You of all people should understand that. Now can we stop talking about that and just go home?"
Don was silent. Of course, he understood the need to keep certain information classified. And he understood that Charlie couldn't just act against those regulations. His understanding, however, didn't make it any easier on him to accept that he'd been completely unaware of what Charlie had been going through for three weeks. He'd always known when his brother was stressed about something! When had Charlie learned to hide things so well from Don?
Or was it that Don just didn't care enough?
He shook his head, trying to make the thought go away. After all, he had noticed that Charlie had been a bit more jumpy than usual, more stressed. But he'd just thought that there was a project Charlie was working on that he couldn't talk about. Wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last. And after all, he'd been right, Charlie had been working on something classified. He just wouldn't have expected something like that.
And it still bugged him that he hadn't been able to read Charlie properly during the investigation. For example his shock when he'd learned about Averell's death – it had been genuine, but there had obviously been more than just the reaction to learning that his friend had died.
"What about Mark Averell?" it occurred to him. "Were you… how are you taking… well, it?" He bit his lips. Damn, he was bad at this.
Charlie didn't seem to mind, though. "I don't know," he said softly. "I mean, we only got to know each other during that assignment, though we worked pretty closely together then. And of course, there were those… incidents…"
He trailed off, but he didn't need to go on for Don to understand that looking danger in the face the way Charlie and Averell had done made you closer to one another somehow. It was part of the dynamics that was at work between him and his team members.
"Anyway," Charlie went on, "we met a few times afterwards because… Well, we were both stressed out." He gave him a sheepish grin. "I guess you noticed that. Sorry if I was a bit short-tempered sometimes. Anyway, he seemed to have even more difficulty than me coming to terms with it. Maybe because it was the first time something like this had happened to him. So we talked about what had happened and at the same time tried to figure out a way how to help catch those guys so it would finally be over." His voice grew a bit husky at his next words: "I just wish we could have figured out something before it was too late for him."
Don looked at him with concern and tried desperately to think of something to take his mind off it. "So, you were the one trying to calm him down?" he said and tried to let a teasing note enter his voice. It worked surprisingly well. Good old brother instincts. "No offense, but I don't really see you as calm in the face of danger. And it's not like you've had more experience with such… incidents than him."
Charlie just gave him one of those looks that spoke more than words. Don frowned. "You… you haven't, have you? I mean, this was the first time you were threatened on one of your assignments, right?"
Charlie was silent.
"Geez, buddy –"
"I'm okay, alright? Even if something happened, it obviously left me reasonably unharmed."
Don just stared at him for a moment, wondering if he should make a comment about what reasonably unharmed was supposed to mean, but then again, he wasn't sure he could take it right now.
"Alright," he said, trying to clear his head. "Alright. So I understand why you couldn't tell me all those things. But I still don't understand…" His mind went back to the interrogation room, after Charlie's lawyer had left. "Charlie, why did you lie to me? Why did you tell me you did it?"
There was a look in Charlie's eyes Don couldn't quite place. "You really don't see it?" Don was about to make some snide remark and had to inhale deeply to keep him from doing so. That gave Charlie time to continue before Don reached the end of his tether. "I needed you to step away from the investigation. You would have endangered everything if you continued poking around, especially yourself. I thought if you believed I was guilty, you would hand the investigation to someone else, thereby stop risking your job and, more importantly, stay away from this whole mess. I thought about telling you I was guilty before, but I thought they'd take the case off your hands pretty soon anyway, and I… well, I wasn't to keen on officially admitting to a murder. You never know what happens."
"So you waited until I assured you it was off the record." It had made click in Don's head.
Charlie nodded. "Yeah."
"Well, news-flash, Charlie, just because you told me that doesn't mean I really believed you were guilty."
Charlie eyed him and for the first time in his life, Don felt uncomfortable under his little brother's scrutinizing gaze. "Really?" There was a healthy amount of doubt in his voice.
"Alright, look – did I think you killed that man? No. He was obviously tortured, buddy, there was no way you could do something like that to a person." He bit his lip when he noticed the flash of pain and horror cross Charlie's face at his blunt words about his friend's death. He went on quickly. "I just… I couldn't help thinking you might be guilty of something. Why else wouldn't you trust me?"
"You know I trust you."
Don nodded slowly. "I know. I'm sorry."
Charlie shook his head. "Don't be. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you. Pretty embarrassing, obviously, having your brother arrested." Don tried to interject, but Charlie wouldn't let him. "Look, I'm sorry. I never meant for that stupid NSA case to interfere with you or any other part of my life, but it happened and I couldn't find a better way to deal with it." He paused. "Are we… are you… mad at me?"
A smile started spreading on Don's face. "No, buddy, I'm not mad. And yeah – we're good."
So, hope you liked it. And don't worry, there will be physical whumping in the next ones ;)