He stared at the shattered glass on the blood-stained carpet, trying to take in the situation. The CSI-team had not yet left the room; a yellow belt gluing the door, banning him from the chaos that once had been his brother's bureau.
"Sir? Pardon me…" a young forensic agent shoved past Don, a big can of powder in her hands.
Slowly, the special agent's mind made its way through cruel memories back into reality. The pictures spinning around in his head didn't disappear, but they went pale enough to leave space to think.
Space as empty as the parking lot where the ambulance had been just a minute ago. They had gone without sirens, but Don wasn't sure whether this was reassuring or frightening him. His little brother was lying in there!
Yes, he had been lucky. The wounds weren't too deep, the doctor had said. Fortunately Charlie had spent the evening with Amita. Fortunately, they had been together when going back to the CalSci. If Charlie had been alone…better not think about it.
Don rubbed his eyes, dry and hurting with exhaustion. He himself had been at the FBI till midnight – it was okay for him that his brother went to work late at night. That was typical Eppes.
The four students breaking into the professor's room, obviously, had not thought about it. "Donnie! I thought you were going with Charlie! You leave him alone, alone on his way to the hospital?" Alan's voice, deep and loud, was filled with sorrow and angry surprise. He made his way to his elder son, then stopped dead as he saw the mess in front of him. "That's gonna be a lot to clean up", he murmured. Then he looked at his son, waiting for the answer he didn't get. "So, Charlie is already there, I guess? And Amita's with him…the CSI-guys just said he was able to walk on his own and that it's only a cut on the head. Lucky genius that he is."
Don didn't answer. He wasn't half as optimistic as his father – they had thrown books and chairs at his brother, dammit! – but knew better than to say anything.
Alan felt the skepticism in his son's silence, but he refused to think about it. He had use these mental blinders from the very first day Don had spent at the FBI, and they had helped him – sad as it was to admit it. He had even started to get over Margaret's death by blinding everything out, though every morning he asked himself how he should get up without her. He knew that his strength wouldn't be enough to lose a son – so it couldn't be. They both would be safe and sound because they had to be.
"He knew they were coming", Don murmured, pulling his father back into reality. Alan looked at him in surprise. "He knew he was observed? Did he tell you?" Don clenched his teeth as guilt filled his veins like poison. "Not directly."
"What do you mean, not directly? Donnie, your brother was attacked and hurt, don't you play word games with me now. We're going to see him and you'll tell me all you know on the way. Right?" He turned around, walking quickly to his car. Don followed slowly, but stopped as they reached the van. "Dad, I…I can't." He couldn't even meet his father's eyes.
"Now what's that supposed to mean? You still got to work? Come on…"
"Charlie feared someone was watching him for over a week. I told him to move all important files to Amita or Larry, but…and now they broke into the bureau, looking for anything, messing up the room. Charlie said he'd come back soon after midnight and then they were there and threw… things at him and…"
"Charlie said…so you talked to him?" That was all Alan had needed to hear. Don nodded, murmuring something incomprehensible, but that couldn't wash away the joy from his father's face. Charlie had talked to his brother, which meant he definitely wasn't in a coma. He'd be alright soon.
Which left him worrying about Don. Alan sighed. His children were actually thirty-six and thirty-one years old, but still he had to cook, wash and to comfort them. "What's wrong? Don, you're his big brother. You know he feels better with you around."
Don laughed bitterly. "Well, I guess that's one of the few mistakes he's ever made, isn't it?" As he noticed the shocked expression on Alan's face, he added, "I can't go there, Dad, don't you see…it's all my fault he's been attacked." His voice had become very quiet. Alan frowned. "What do you mean?"
Don took a deep breath, relieved and scared at the same time. Now it would be explained, for everyone to be heard… "Charlie asked me to observe his office, just to check if I too thought there was something wrong. Till now I hadn't had time to do it."
"Because you had to work", Alan said. As much as he longed to see and embrace his younger son, he knew that Don needed him right here, right now. "That's it? You didn't get these kids in time and now you don't wanna see your brother? Donnie!"
"Dad, everything I do is putting him into danger! Every case he helps me with is dangerous, every day he spends with me is dangerous for him, he just doesn't get it!" Worry and love changed into anger – a common reaction for Don. Alan ignored it and pushed his son into the car. "Donnie, your brother has been attacked. It doesn't matter how many people have seen his attackers before or after, and it doesn't matter how dangerous your job may be. Charlie needs you now, that is the only thing that matters, and I know you will be there for him. Like you have always been, Don."
Don managed a smile, but it wasn't a happy one. He leaned his pounding head against the cool window, thinking about what to say to his little brother. Hey Chuck, I hope you're not mad at me for doing nothing to protect you.
His thoughts raced back to a summer evening two years ago. He and Charlie had tried to play golf – with the success of having to dive after four balls that had gone missing in a small pond. They had sat there eventually, watching the sun set.
"Now that's romantic, isn't it?" Charlie said. Don laughed. "Bet on it, Chuck. Now hurry and ask Amita to marry you before it gets dark!" Charlie had joined his laughing, more at ease than anytime else they had brought the marriage-subject on. "I guess I can wait till the next beautiful sunset!" "Really? Well, I hope so" Don was earnest now. "We can't be sure if we live to see the next sunset, can we?"
Charlie was baffled, but only for a second. "Mum?" Don nodded. "I miss her too."
The brothers remained silent for a long time.
"Hey, Charlie…" Don cleared his throat almost nervously, "you know I'm there for you, right? As long as there's a sunset, I'll be there for you."
Charlie smiled, feeling much warmer now than when the sun had shined at him. "Thank you, Don. I…you know, I really…that means a lot to me. And if you ever need me…also in not-FBI-affairs" – they both laughed – "then I'll be there for you as well. I promise."
"Thank you, Charlie." Don smiled. "But you know, as I am the older one, I have to be the better protector!" "Hey, who's saying that? I bet I see more dangers coming at you…I bet I can protect you better than you protect me!"
Don laughed again. "Alright, little brother. I take the bet. Your maths against the FBI – you're gonna lose!"
When the car reached the parking lot, Don felt sick with shame and worry. He should have protected Charlie. He should have gone with him, but he hadn't done it. He had let Charlie down.
And as he saw Amita running towards them, tears streaming down her face, collapsing in Alan's arms like Charlie's lungs had done just minutes before –
Don knew there was no second beautiful sunset to come. Never again.