A/N:Okay this oneshot is based on actual events about nine years ago and those true events do include an older brother and a younger sibling, but my brother is only 3 years older than me and I'm smart, but no genius (and I'm not a guy either :P) Plus my bro is a hockey jock, not a Fed...(he's Canadian, how could he be?) I thought I'd write this story on my experience from the tidbits I remember and what my family told me. Also the event explains my tendency to forget things people tell me only moments later, and at fifteen thats not something to brag about.
Oh and this oneshot is not exactly great, or probably even good for that matter, I just wanted to write it really. Oh yeah and it has some fluff... at the end I guess. It's one of those 'brother' pieces.
Dedicated to: My big brothers, Joey... I know you didn't mean to and I forgive ya bro. I miss you and Kyle so much right now. I took you guys for granted before I moved, but now I realize how much I love you both. Don't forget to remember me k? (cries a little)
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24 Years Ago- Montreal Canada
"Donald Eppes," Alan spoke sternly to his 11 year old son, "Put that hammer down right now! You could hurt somebody."
The Eppe's family was in Canada for vacation, visiting their Uncle Brian in Montreal. While Alan and his brother-in-law were fixing up the old garage, Don had snatched the hammer and started swinging it around. All he had wanted to do was help fix the garage and show off a little bit.
Don looked up angrily at his father and put the hammer down before muttering, "Sorry."
Don's younger brother looked on and wondered why his big brother was not allowed to use the hammer. Surely someone as cool and big as Don could handle it without hurting anybody. Charlie disregarded it and went to grab the glass of lemonade his mother held out for him. Thinking for a moment he grabbed a second glass and brought it over to his brother. "Here Donnie, want some lemonade?"
Don grabbed the glass out of his brother's hand, "Just leave me alone, okay!" He snapped and pushed the six year, causing Charlie to fall and spill the drink down his shirt. "God Charlie! What is wrong with you? Look what you did to my shirt!"
His little brother scrambled to his feet and looked at the mess he made, "I-I'm sorry Donnie, I didn't mean to." In Charlie's mind Don could do no wrong and what had happened was completely his own fault. A few tears sprang into his eyes as he realized Don was very mad at him.
"Just forget it Buddy," Don said quietly, knowing his parent's would be angry that he'd pushed his brother and made him cry, "It's okay I'm not mad."
Charlie just nodded and wiped his eyes as Don ran inside to change his clothes. "Charlie?" His mother called and he didn't hesitate to run to her. "What's wrong Sweets?"
"I fell and spilt my lemonade," he told her and hung his head.
"Oh that's okay," Margaret assured him and took a look at his arm, "Just a tiny scrape. You'll live."
Charlie smiled as she passed him another glass, before she headed inside to help her brother make supper, and he took a sip. He set it back down carefully so he wouldn't have a chance to spill it and noticed Don had come back outside and behind their father's back, was playing with the hammer.
"Didn't Daddy say you couldn't play with it?" Charlie asked as he approached his brother.
"Seriously Charlie, doesn't it look like I'm big enough to use a hammer. I'll be careful so don't worry and don't you dare tell Dad."
Charlie's head bobbed up and down, and he watched his brother 'use' the hammer. Don's back was facing him now and he barely had time to notice Don had swung it back before the forked end connected with his head. Blackness immediatly was all he could see and he was extremely terrified for just a second, then all thoughts left his mind.
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"Don! What are you doing!" Alan yelled as he turned around to see a horrified Don kneeling on the ground beside his little brother. In no more than a second Alan was beside his fallen son and forced Don to move out of the way, "Charlie? Charlie, son talk to me," but there was no reply.
"I'm so sorry Dad. I swear I didn't mean it," Don spluttered out the words quickly, willing his father to believe him.
"Nevermind that now Don," Alan snapped as he lifted his smaller than average child into his arms, "Go get your mother and tell her to call 911." Don hesitated for a moment and his father added angrily, "Now, Don!"
Without another thought Don ran inside and cried to his mother, "Mom, Dad said to call 911! I'm so sorry I didn't mean to!" He hoped against all odds that his mother would understand, but she didn't even know what was going on yet.
"Woah Don, slow down. What's happened?" She asked worriedly, but didn't wait for an answer. The words 911 just then sinking in. She looked up from her eldest son to see her husband walk into the room carrying her youngest carefully.
"Did you call?" He asked immediately, he hadn't even stopped to think that he shouldn't have moved his son from the place of injury.
Margaret shook her head and picked up the phone and dialled, "911, what's your emergency?" The operator asked automatically.
"My son's unconscious, you have to send an ambulance," she began to weep into the phone, "He's only six years old please!"
"Ma'am, where are you and can you tell me what happened?" The operator asked calmly.
"764 Jackson Cres," she told him and added, "But I don't know what happened!" Margaret dropped the phone admist her sobs and Don picked it up.
"I didn't mean to," he whispered to the operator sullenly, "I was only playing with the hammer. I didn't mean to hit him."
"It's okay," the operator told him softly, "but can I talk to your mother again please?"
Don gently placed the phone into his mother's hand and let her finish the call. After she hung up and they awaited the ambulance, Alan spoke, "Didn't I tell you you'd hurt someone." Don nodded softly and looked at his mom sadly.
"This isn't the time," she said gently and hugged her elder son, " and Charlie'll be okay." I hope, she added silently. Don felt a tiny bit better, but still no one had told him want he wanted to hear most.
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"Mr. and Mrs. Eppes?" The doctor asked quietly as he entered the waiting room of the children's hospital. Don was curled up on a sofa, sound asleep, but anyone would've noticed that his eyes were slightly puffy from crying silently earlier.
"Doctor Geralton?" Alan asked hopefully, "How's my son?"
"We did a CatScan and there doesn't seem to be a fracture or any lasting damage. He's got a concussion and a bunch of stitches, but he'll be fine," he explained with a smile. It was always a good feeling to be able to give parents good news, "He'll have to stay overnight for observation though."
Margaret nodded and gave a long sigh of relief, "Can we visit him?"
"Sure thing," he told her and motioned to Don, "Would your other son like to come too?"
Charlie's mother never answered, just walked over and shook her eldest son awake gently and explained to him, "We're going to see your brother." Don shot up from the couch and followed behind his parents to the room Charlie was in.
The child was only slighly paler than usual and his eyes were open and the gash above his left eye was clearly visible, "Mommy, Daddy?" He asked and reached out a hand. Margaret took it and smiled.
"How are you, Baby?" She questioned in a whisper.
"My head hurts," Charlie replied just as quietly and then his eyes searched out his brother, "I'm sorry I got in your way Donnie."
Alan looked at Don expectantly, but Don took no notice, "Buddy..." he began in a small voice, "For someone who's supposed to be a genius, you can be pretty dumb." He paused for a minute as his parents looked at him angrily.
"Don!" His father said in an exasperated voice.
"I was just trying to say he should know that I should be the sorry one not him," Don explained sheepishly.
"Don?" Charlie interupted quietly, "It's alright, I know you didn't mean to." And that was all Don need to hear.
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Don opened his eyes with a start, and peeled himself off his desk. He had fallen asleep after three days with absolutely no sleep, working off his tail to find the criminals he was after. He wanted to do it not just for the community this time, but for his brother and felt as if he was getting nowhere way too fast. Although right now it worried him that the memory he had visited in his dream, was one of his brother in a hospital.
Sitting back at his desk Don watched his brother rattle away to David, Colby and Megan about some equation that would catch the bank thieves that were terrorizing the city. His brother had worked night and day on this equation, ever since he heard a couple of his students had been shot at one of the heists.
"It's a very abstract pattern," the mathematician explained, "Not simple like an arithmatic sequence, you couldn't find it just by looking at it. They're always hitting larger on the scale of money gain, but there are a few that drop way below. Using this I can tell you the next heist will, with 97 accuracy, be tomorrow at 6pm at the third largest bank in the city."
"Wow Whizkid," Colby muttered, "Thats amazing."
"You should be used to it by now Granger," David poked him with a pencil and smiled at Charlie, "Good going man!"
Charlie grinned back and Don clamped a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Don't worry Buddy. We'll get 'em."
"I know Don," Charlie spoke with conviction, "I never doubted it for a minute."
With a smile Don marveled at how the weirdest memories turned into fond ones. He knew now why the memory had come back to him, because that day, so many years ago, was the day he knew his little brother would always believe in him, no matter what."
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FINIS
A/N: So you know I really cried when I wrote that dedication and like Don I found what happened to be a fond memory. I miss my brother's so much and I can't wait for Christmas when I get to see them again! Also the 'you'll live" part is exactly what my mom said that day... she says it all the time.