N/A: I don't own NCIS or any characters that you may have seen on the show-But Charles "Charlie" McGee is my own character (MOC). Mine!
KIN.
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Charlie McGee ran down the sidewalk as fast as he dared, he couldn't be late again, not today. Rebecca, his daughter, would kill him if he was late again. Being a recruiter was way more than meets the eye; he had been letting marines go more than he was letting them on, and don't even get him started on the paper work that was involved.
Today was extra bad; he had to let a Colonel go today. Colonel Mark Asser, hewas caught with drugs in his system when they did random drug testing, and by the test results he had been doing it for a while, right under their noses. It had gotten a little crazy, a few punches were thrown, and a few landed; he rubbed his bruised and cut cheek in memory. Good times.
As he made his way down the walk way, he slowed, catching his breath; wishing just once that he had a car, or bike, anything that could have gotten him here faster.
He tucked his bag under his arm as he reached the front door, digging in his pockets he pulled out his keys; he always told Becky to lock the doors, it didn't matter that they lived on base, always lock the door. He slid the key into the lock; turning it he heard the click. He pulled it out and turned the door knob, pushing, but the door didn't budge. He furrowed his brow; that meant that the door was already unlocked; but Rebecca knew to always lock the door even if she was home. And he knew she was because this was the anniversary of Donna, his wife and her mother's death. Charlie's gut churned at the bad thoughts that raced through his mind; what could have happened. Maybe-maybe she just forgot, yeah she just forgot and would be sitting on the couch arms crossed, angry because he was late. That caused his mind to stop racing slightly.
Quickly he stuck his key back in the lock, turning it harshly; he flung the door open, it banged against the wall with the force. He spared it no mind as he dropped his bag and keys at the end table
"Becky," he called, "I'm home." his voice bounced of the walls. "Honey?" he looked in the kitchen, empty. Maybe she was just taking a nap, right?
He walked in to the living room, his breath catching as the room was a mess; cushions strewed around, glass coffee table smashed, lamps knocked over- and was that blood? "Rebecca!" he yelled as he rushed up the stairs. More blood, on the walls, the floor rug. This couldn't be happening; he couldn't do this again.
He took a very deep breath as he rounded on Becky's door, but it did nothing for his aching, racing heart. It was open a crack; some blood splatter on the white panels. He push the door, it creaked as it slowly swung open. He let out a breath; her room was as perfect as it always was, and some how that relieved him.
He closed the door; trying to preserve something that couldn't be seen. He turned down the hall; his heart picking up speed again. He squeezed his eye's shut tight as he came to his own bedroom. His heart shattering at what seared into his brain, in the tenth of a second it took to close his eyes.
His room was a wreck, just like the living room, but worst, and with more blood and the bloody beaten body of his baby girl.
He stumbled back, only stopping when his back hit the wall. He slid down, crumpling on the floor, he felt hallow and empty; he lost everyone. For some reason tears would not come; all he felt was numb. He banged his head against the wall; the motion caused a picture frame to fall of its nail, hitting him in the head—the glass breaking-before falling in his lap. He picked it up and looked at the picture, which was when the tears started to pore.
It was a picture of Charlie, a pregnant Donna and a 10 year old Becky, with their new English bull dog Frankie. It was actually the last picture they took together before Donna was murdered. He traced their faces delicately he tears obscuring their faces; he lost his family, even Frankie too.
He held the picture to his heart; he became empty inside at the moment in time. There was nothing left.
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"Feet off the desk, DiNozzo;" Gibbs said, knocking the senior field agent's feet off the desk as he walked towards his own. "Got a body on base,"
At that all three special agents quickly grabbed their gear, heading for the elevator.
"Ziva," Gibbs stopped the mosade agent, "You and Tony take the truck." he tossed the keys to her before putting a hand on Tim's chest, stopping his youngest agent.
"I'm so dead." Tony's voice drifted to the two remaining agent's before the elevator door closed, referring to the fact that Ziva was a maniac driver.
"Boss?" McGee questioned, worried and nervous he kept sending glances in the direction of the front elevator. "Is something the matter?"
"You're not in trouble, McGee." Gibbs quelled his agent's worries. "Do you know a Sergeant Charles McGee?"
"What?" that was very unexpected, but he nodded slowly, "Yeah, he's my cousin. Why?" Tim asked worriedly, what did this have to do with Charlie?
"The body that was called in was a Rebecca McGee, called in by Charles McGee." Gibbs told his computer analyst, waiting for what he said to sink in.
Timothy McGee's brain was like a computer, always had been since he was a kid. And as what Gibbs said each word was down loading in to his memory, but then all of a sudden there was a virus, and his brain tried to get rid of that information, but the virus was to great so Gibbs' word played in his head: Rebecca's dead, Becky's dead, killed murdered . . . Charlie.
Tim shook his head as he grabbed his desk phone and quickly dialed the remembered number. There were five rings before he got the beep for the voice: "This is Charles McGee, if I haven't answered the phone I'm probably working so leave your name and number and I'll call back if I can."
His breath caught as he slammed the phone back on it receiver, he quickly put his gun on his belt before grabbing his gear; he rushed passed a sadly knowing Gibbs.
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"Did you see that guy?" Tony asked Ziva as he took pictures of the body; he and Ziva were already done with the down stairs and were now doing the master bedroom, and also waiting for Ducky.
"Yes, Tony, I did see 'that guy'. What's your point?" Ziva asked as she picked up a picture from the night stand. It was of two very similar looking men; arms around each other, all smiles.
"He looks like McGeek's clone or something. Dome." He whispered looking around suspiciously.
"They knew each other," Ziva handed DiNozzo the picture; "they look like twins." Ziva went to the closet.
"I'll say." Tony whistled as he looked closer at the picture; it was taken a while ago, probably high school or even collage, judging by the graduation gowns. "Why would Probie lie about having a brother?" he questioned as he bagged it for evidence, there was blood, maybe even finger prints.
Ziva looked over at Tony giving him exasperated look, "We found out he had a younger sister and look how that turned out."
"What's with the look?" Tony demanded.
"You were practically gooing all over her." Ziva rolled her eyes.
"It's drooling, Ziva. I was drooling all over her." Tony corrected.
Ziva spun around, a finger in Tony's face, "Ha! You just admitted it." She had a triumphant smile plastered on her face.
Tony swatted the offending finger away, "I did not; just correcting your horrible English." he turned to look at the pictures in the hall, "Where's the wife?" he asked.
"There is no woman's clothing in the closet." Ziva finished sorting through only mens clothing.
"Divorced?" Tony guessed.
"Try deceast, DiNozzo." Gibbs provided walking in the room, Ducky in tow.
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2 MINUTES EARLIER
Gibbs didn't even have the car turned off before Tim jumped out, looking franticly around the taped off area for his cousin Charlie. After about fifteen seconds he spotted the man who looked so much like himself, sitting on the curb staring blankly at the sky; all the police and agents not even paying attention to the distraught man.
He rushed to his cousin, not even saying anything before he knelt down and threw his arms around Charlie. Gibbs didn't say anything either as he walked passed the two men; only thought that they looked more like twins than cousins.
As Charlie sat on curb by the house he wanted to destroy, arms wrapped around him. He didn't shrug them off, because in truth he needed them more than he knew. He knew the arms that were encircling him and that put a sliver of his heart back in place; he did have something left.
"Charlie," Tim pulled away some, turning Charlie's face towards his own. The usually bright green eyes were now dead and lost "Look at you." he softly brushed the bruised and cut cheek, "How did this happen?"
Charlie barley had the energy to shrug his shoulders; "Work." was all he said, his voice also dead and dull.
That did not help the bad feeling that Tim had settling itself in the pit of his stomach. Charlie had already lost so much and now his daughter. There was rattling coming from the house and Ducky appeared with Rebecca's body on a stretcher. Before Charlie could get a look, Tim grabbed his face; keeping it facing his own.
"We're going to wait in the car, okay?" Tim told his cousin, taking his hand and pulling him up. "I'll get your statement when you're ready." Tim sat in the back seat of the charger with his silently grieving cousin. Charlie still clung to the photograph that had fallen in the hallway.
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5 MINUTES EARLIER
"What have you got, Duck?" Gibbs questioned the ME, as he took his own look around the room. If not for the girl's body, all the blood, and sign of struggle the room would have been almost spotless.
"Time of death was about 2 to 3 hours ago." Ducky said putting the liver probe away. "I would say cause of death was affixation, and I think I might have to do a rape kit, Jethro." He looked sadly at the fourteen year old. "Of course I'll know more when I-"
"Get her back to autopsy." Gibbs finished the ME's sentence. "I know, Duck."
"My pleasure, Jethro." Ducky said as he and Palmer loaded the body on the stretcher; they left the room.
Gibbs looked at the door, the edge was splintered and there was a speck of blood. "DiNozzo, swab this." he pointed, showing where the senior agent could swipe.
"Sure thing, boss." DiNozzo swabbed the blood. "Could be the killers." he suggested as he bagged it.
Ziva was also scrutinizing the door; the way the other bloody smears were. The door looked set up, she swung it shut. Ziva raised her dark brows at what was reviled; Written in blood was a message:
HAVE YOU LEARNED YOUR LEASON YET?
Ziva snapped a few shots, than swabbed the blood. "Somebody has a grub."
"Grudge, Ziva. And I would have to agree with that assessment, Dah-Veed." DiNozzo looked at Gibbs, "Boss, who is this guy?" he wanted to know and the way Ziva was looking, she wanted to know too.
Gibbs wasn't one to tell other peoples business, but it did pertain to the case at hand. The information he had at the moment he got from Tim on the car ride over.
"Sergeant Charles McGee born August 7th 1975 is Tim's 'cousin'. The DB Rebecca McGee, his daughter. Married Donna Crewe for 12 years; she was murdered, pregnant with twins in 2005, killer was never caught. English bull dog hit by a car a year ago. His mother died giving birth to him, father died of a heart attack 8 years ago." and that was the shortened version from just a 20 minute drive.
"Holy crap, that's like one big horror movie." Ziva breathed out, eyes wide.
"How is he Probie's cousin? They look like twins, Gibbs." Tony didn't believe it.
"You got me, DiNozzo." was all Gibbs said.
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Charlie was in auto pilot as he was steered into an interrogation room, not even noticing when he was left alone. He pulled the picture from his coat pocket, the broken frame poking his fingers. He looked at the picture trying to remember the good times, but none came, the only memories that entered his mind were those of death.
First was his mother; a woman he would never know. The reason for this was because he was a killer at birth; she was his first kill as he entered the world. It was like a curse put on him by God as he grew in his mother's womb, and it would stay with him forever; killing all those he loved. His father died of a heart attack 8 years ago; now both his parents were dead.
His wife Donna, 2 months pregnant with his twin sons. It was actually before he moved on base. Was raped and murdered on her birthday and their anniversary in their home, because there was a car accident on the only way home (thank god Becky had been at a friends house). Three people died that day and so did a part of Charlie.
That was when they moved on base, and the always locking of doors rule was enforced.
Then a year ago, the beloved family dog, Frankie was killed in a hit and run when he got out of the house.
And now his sweet baby girl was killed and raped in his own bed. Her bloody, beaten and defiled baby girl's dead body laying there on his bed.
His curse killed everyone he loved. Loved. Mom, dad, Donna, Frankie, Becky and . . . Tim. God he loved Tim as if he were a brother, and now because of that his cousin who was like a brother and his best friend was going to die because Charlie loved him.
His heart beat faster as he thought of Tim dying because he loved him. The only thing to do to save Tim was to go away forever and never love him again. That little piece of his heart that had been put back in place when Tim had hugged him, now wiggled lose and fell to the deepest, darkest depth of his now very dead soul.
He set the picture in his lap; knowing people were behind the shaded glass. He dug in his coat pockets, pulling out a crumpled receipt and a pen. He flattened the receipt and started to write quickly; time was of the essence; and he knew Becky would understand his reasoning for this and forgive him as he went to hell for committing such a sin as he was going to.
Dear Tim,
You know I love with all my heart, but that was what killed everyone I ever loved. As I sit here in this room I figured it out:
God loves everyone, but sometimes the devil loves them even more. And I'm one of those people who the devil loves more than god. And that's my curse.
Everyone I love, the devils love in me kills them.
Mom, dad, Donna and my unborn twins, Frankie and now Becky.
All because I loved them, Tim. And I love you, and because of that you will in some way die soon—it's only a matter of time.
And I love you too much to let that happen, so as of right this second I, Charles McGee do not love you Timothy McGee with all my heart. I renounce every shred of love I have for you, so as to save the only person I have left.
And now I bid you fare well, Tim.
Sincerely, Charlie.
Charlie folded the now very full receipt, and stuffed it and the pen back into his coat pocket. He looked at the picture in his lap one last time before he picked a piece of glass that was stuck in the frame. The sharp edges cut through his fingers easily; he knew it would now be quicker. He shoved each of his sleeves up as far as he could, careful to keep them out of view; he gave one last calm glance at mirror window. He made quick work of slicing wrist to elbow; the glass cutting through his arms thin skin easily, he barley flinched when the blood started to flow. He dropped the piece of glass back in his lap before pulling his sleeves down; careful to hide as much blood as possible. He gently placed his arms on the table and laid his head on his now numbing arms.
And closed his eyes; soon Charles McGee would be no more.
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2 MINUTES EARLIER
Tim watched from the other side of the interrogation window; he didn't know why Gibbs wouldn't let him comfort his own cousin; but he guessed there was a good reason for it. And hoping to god that his team didn't think that Charlie was a suspect.
He watched sadly as Charlie wrote on a piece of paper quickly before shoving it back in his pocket, he then fiddled with something in his lap, giving a look at the glass. He flinched then laid his head down.
And Tim knew that look; the look of a man who had just lost everything in his life, and had nothing to live for. It took his mind a second to process that thought and when the processing was done the results were majorly bad. Tim cursed Gibbs for not letting him stay with Charlie.
He raced from the observation room to the interrogation part, as he neared Charlie that was when he saw the blood puddling around him on the table.
Charlie looked up when he felt Tim's hands on his shoulders, his face pale as a ghost as the blood fled from his sliced arms. He looked at Tim for a moment his brain slow at registering who it was. When it did register his lips curved upward in a soft smile; he held his arms toward Tim, proud, like a child would after tying his shoes, "For you, Tim." he whispered before letting his arms fall back onto the table top, back into the shallow puddle of blood. He slouched in the chair; he felt as one would after having a big operation and was doped up on drugs, his pain numbed from blood loss.
Tim cursed when he finally found the source; his own face paling somewhat at the sight. Tim yanked his suit jacket off, tearing the sleeves off with effort, he quickly tied each one around Charlie's arm; slowing or hopefully stop the bleeding altogether. He glanced to the mirror; hopefully the tech would have noticed the commotion and called for an ambulance.
He was definitely going to have a talk with Gibbs about this.
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"Did he really?" Tony asked, spinning back and forth in his chair, his finger beating a bored tattoo on top of his desk. "I mean, slit his wrists open right there in interrogation?"
"It's sad, is it not?" Ziva commented.
"Damn right it is!" Tony jerked the chair to a stop, his fist coming down on the top of his desk loud enough to cause Ziva to start. "This is Probie's family we're talking about!"
"Then we should find the perpetrator, should we not?"
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Tim paced the length of the waiting room, biting his nails to the very edge. They had to do an emergency blood transfusion; using Tim's blood because he and his cousin had the same blood type.
"McGee," Gibbs said from his spot from the chair, sounding drained.
He has no idea, thought Tim as he narrowed his eyes in anger towards his Boss, the man he ignored as he kept on pacing.
"Tim," Gibbs said a little louder this time, using his given name for what Tim thought was actually the first time.
Tim froze in step, spinning around to face the seated man, "You have no right to use my given name!" Tim informed him angrily, Gibbs eyes just widened in surprise. "He is in there because of you, you're the one who thought he was a suspect in his own daughter's murder. The only reason he didn't do this before when his wife and baby sons were killed was because of his daughter, but no, they killed her too! And for what Gibbs? What reason would he have to kill and rape his own flesh and blood! Charlie had just lost his daughter and you stick him in interrogation; if he dies, his blood is on your hands, Leroy Jethro Gibbs!"
"Excuse me, Mr. McGee?" a female voice interrupted.
Tim squeezed his eyes tight for a moment and took to breath, to calm himself down. He turned, "Yes, what can I do for you, ma'me?"
"I'm Dr. Sandia, blood work came through, and is being infused into your brother at the moment, you can see him if you like." the woman informed, with a nod of her head she turned to leave.
"Wait!" Tim took a step forward his arm reaching out, he stop just short as the woman spun around and inquiring look on her face. "What do you mean brothers? Charlie and I are just cousins." he told the doctor confused, he glanced at Gibbs who seemed to be avoiding eye contact.
Sandia shook her head, "Before we could do the transfusion, we had to test your blood to see if it would take. Red blood cell count, blood type, any mutations, etcetera. When the results came back, they were identical. But that does make sense, seeing as you and Charlie are twins. I was thrown when you said that you two were just cousins. But when I see you, than look at him; you two are just alike."
"No," Tim shook his head, "We just look alike because both of our parents were sets of twins."
Sandia just smiled at him in a soothing manner, "I'll show you to his room."
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"Got anything, Abb's?" Gibbs asked as he walked into the sub-basement lab. There was no heavy metal blasting throughout the room so he knew that was sad for McGee. But to his surprise, she was jumping up and down and her eyes shone with excitement.
"Oh my God! Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!" the Goth bounced around in excitement.
"Abby, calm down."
"You're not going to believe this, Gibbs!"
"I'll give you this caf-pow, if you tell me." Gibbs wagged said caf-pow in front of the Goth. She tried to grab it, but he pulled it back. "What do you got, Abb's?" he tried again.
She sighed, "Okay, so I ran all the blood samples collected. And most of them were Rebecca McGee's. I ran Charlie McGee's which was not a match to any of the blood from the bedroom, but guess what Gibbs?"
"What, Abby?"
"McGee and McGee are twins, Gibbs. Twins!"
"I know, Abb's."
"What? You do?"
"Yes, now what else do you have?"
"Well, there was this one sample that wasn't a match to either Rebecca or Charlie's, but it was a match to some hairs that were collected. I went through the case file that you told me to, on Charlie's wife, and there was a match on the hair collected on that scene too. So whoever killed the wife killed the daughter too. And he must have used a condom, because Ducky found no seamen."
Gibbs handed Abby the caf-pow and kissed her on the cheek, before heading for the elevator, cell phone in hand.
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Tim pulled a chair beside Charlie's bed, holding his cousin's - or should he say brother's - limp hand in his own. As he looked at Charlie's face, it was like looking into a mirror. Tim had no idea how he could have been as stupid as to think that they were just cousins; they were way to close for just cousins. He was closer to Charlie then he was to his sister; sure, Charlie had the advantage of being the same age and gender as Tim, but Sarah was still his sister.
Then there was the same looks; but Tim had put that down on the account that both their parents were sets of twins; but what about the being able to feel each other? It was weird and he couldn't really explain it, but he would always get this uneasy feeling. It mostly happened when he was away from Charlie, but it got easier the older they got. And now, now Tim was never going to let Charlie out of his site. Because when you let things out of your site, bad things happen.
He flipped his cell phone open then closed then open again; trying to bring the nerve to dial a number. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the necessary buttons.
"Hello?"
"Mom?"
"Tim? What's wrong, hunny?"
"Rebecca's dead, mom."
"Charles?"
"In the hospital; he tried to kill himself."
"How did it happen?"
"It was the same person who killed Donna."
"Dear me,"
"I- Mom, Charlie and I aren't cousins."
"Of course you are, Tim."
"Mom, the doctor said so."
"They don't know what their talking about, dear."
"They had to test my blood, mom, and have you ever seen us? We're twins for God sake!"
"*Sigh*. Your Aunt and I were pregnant at the same time; I was with you and Charles. When she went into labor, there were complications and the baby died before it could be born. My sister and I were very close, and well, your father and I gave them Charles. We lived next to each other and we visited them all the time; and you two grew up close as brothers."
"Mom-"
"Take care of him, Timothy."
!CLICK!
Tim sighed before he flipped his phone shut and slipped it into his pocket; he ran a hand through his hair. Tim looked up when he felt slight pressure on his hand to meet clear green eyes.
"Twin's, huh?" Charlie asked, smiling like a loon.
"I think I can agree on that assessment." Tim smiled back, squeezing Charlie's hand.
"We're a bunch of idiots, aren't we?"
"I think we are," Tim laughed.
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"Colonel Henry Branshaw?" Ziva asked.
"Mm?" said the man, he didn't look up from his paper work for a moment as he finished reading the paragraph. "How can I help you?" he asked as he finally raised his head.
"NCIS," Tony flashed his badge, "I'm Agent DiNozzo and this is Agent David." Tony said, pointing to Ziva.
"How can I help you Agents?"
"We're here about the murder of Miss McGee." Ziva stated.
Branshaw squinted his eyes for a second, "Rebecca?" Then his eyes widened, "She was killed?"
"That is correct." she nodded.
"But, hat about Charlie? Is he okay?"
"He's in the hospital," Tony said.
"Was he there when it happened?"
"No," Ziva shook her head. "He found the body."
"Then why is he in the hospital?"
"He tried to kill him himself," Ziva said quietly.
Branshaw scrubbed a hand through his hair, "It was bound to happen," he sighed.
"What was?" Tony asked.
"Charlie trying to kill himself," Branshaw sighed again, "No one can go through that much shit and not try to off themselves at least once, even if you have a kid. Surprised he didn't commit Murder-Suicide."
"Do know anyone who would want to do this Charlie?" Ziva asked, getting back on track.
"Yeah," Branshaw said without thought, at Tony's look he explained. "The Job; we tell people that they can't be in the army. And boy, is it a way to make some enemies. Who are we to tell them that they can't fight for their country because of some abnormalities in their blood work? We're actually supposed to recruit them, but some how we end tell half of these men and women that they can't join the Navy because of something that you can't even see with the naked eye!"
"Would you be able to make a list?" asked Ziva.
"Actually, I can do you one better." Branshaw said, getting up from his chair and heading towards they door and going into the office across the hall. He went to the filing cabinet and opened a drawer.
"Whose office is this?" Tony questioned.
"McGee's," Branshaw said, thumbing through the folders.
"We should probably take this back to Abby," Tony said, unhooking the laptop on the desk, before opening some drawers. There was nothing in them of interest, so Tony shut them again. But his curiosity was peeked when the last drawer was locked. "Is there a key for this?" Tony asked Branshaw, jiggling the drawer.
Branshaw glanced at the drawer before he shook his head, "I don't have a copy, if that's what you're asking."
"Ziva?" was all Tony said before he stood up from the desk chair.
Ziva crouched by the drawer and started to pick the lock; she nodded her head to Tony as the drawer slid open, before standing back up again. Tony grabbed the big file that was the only occupant in the drawer, he flicked through the file.
"News paper clippings, pictures; this is his wife's case file." Tony informed the Officer, setting the file on top of the lap top.
"Here we go," Branshaw pulled a few files from the cabinet, "The Asser family; they've been in everything: Air Force, Marines, Army, Seals, Black Ops but mainly the Navy. But this generation the blood is bad; we've had to let go many descendents from that family. Just this morning Charlie had to let go of a Colonel, been here nearly thirty-five years. Turns out for half of that he was drunk; and he was not a happy camper. You did see Charlie's face, right?"
"Actually, I don't think we did."
"Well, just make sure you check these guys out; for McGee." Branshaw hand Tony the folder.
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"You have my blood, so what?" Twenty-three year old Carl Asser said nonchalant.
"So, what I want to know is what you were doing at the McGee residence at 7:30 pm last night." Gibbs told him.
"I don't know who this McGee is, so how was I supposed to be at his house?" Asser asked, leaning back in his chair.
"I thought that you would know the man that denied you entry to the Navy as well as kicked your father out earlier yesterday."
"Do you know how many recruiters I have gone to?" Asser shook his head. "And I haven't talked to my Old Man in months."
"Your phone records say other wise," Gibbs placed a piece of paper on the table and slid it forward.
Asser didn't even glance at it. "Right, because I can't call my mother?" he sneered sarcastically.
"No, because this is you father's office number, not home phone."
Asser was silent and Gibbs knew he had the bastard.
"And from his records, he e-mailed you the McGee address where you raped and murdered his fourteen year old daughter. But that wasn't all you did, was it? Because when he denied you entrance to the Navy, you got his home address then too. And raped his murdered his pregnant wife."
Asser gave him a smug smile.
"But while you wore a condom, you didn't wear a hair net." Gibbs informed him.
The smile faded.
"And," Gibbs said, leaning forward and snatching Asser's hand and holding the palm upward. "You have slivers from the door. You are going away for a very long time,"
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"Carl Asser," Charlie repeated, trying the name out.
"Yeah, that's the guy who killed Donna and Rebecca." Tim confirmed. He was glad that they finally caught the son-of-a-bitch.
"I don't remember him," Charlie said, looking at Tim from where he still lay in the hospital bed. "I don't remember him, but I ruined his life . . . So he ruined mine."
Tim kept silent and squeezed Charlie's hand, letting him work through it.
"An eye for an eye, right?" Charlie's bottom lip trembled slightly as tears welled up in his green hues.
Tim gripped his hand tighter. "You did nothing to deserve this," Tim told him firmly.
"So, what? I'm a good person; and bad things happen to good people, right?" Charlie sneered. "I'm a monster and I crush people's hopes and dreams."
"No, you don't." Tim told him. "It's just a nasty side effect in your job."
"What job?" Charlie swallowed. "I quit when you were in the bathroom."
"Why would you do that?" Tim asked.
"That job has ruined my life, Tim. It killed all of the people I loved most, but I'm not gonna let it kill you too." a sob escaped him then.
"You're fine, Charlie." Tim soothed. "I'm fine, we're all fine."
"I just miss her so much!" he cried out, sob's raking his body.
"I know. Sshhhh," Time climbed into the bed with him, pulling him close.
Charlie buried his face in Tim's neck, needing his cousin - no, brother more than anything. He hurt, his heart hurt so much, right now, he didn't think he could take it. But maybe, just maybe, with Tim's supporting arms around him, he could.
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