A/N: Short chapter. Again, all errors, while unintentional, are my own.
Chapter Two:
He nursed a cup of coffee and waited. He looked at his watch, his left foot beating a restless tattoo beneath the table. Frank had never been on time for anything and never would be. It irritated him more than it normally would, he knew exactly what his brother was like, so why was he getting all bent out of shape about it now? Because there's someone else involved, someone I didn't know existed twenty four hours ago. He picked up his cup, took a sip and took in his surroundings. A small coffee shop, starting to look a little worn about the edges but it was busy all the same. He guessed some people felt a little uncomfortable at the super polished stylised coffee chains popping up throughout the city. By the wide front window were worn but comfortable looking sofas where people could take their hot drinks and chill out with their friends, or alone with a newspaper or a good book. He heard the single chime of the shop bell and he looked up expectantly. It wasn't Frank. He sighed quietly. He rested his head on his palm and stared down at the muddy recesses of his coffee cup. He'd called the number Eames had given him, left a brief but succinct message.
He'd give him ten more minutes….
"Hey Bobby" he looked up and saw his brother standing there. Frank had never been overweight to begin with but the first thought that went through Bobby's mind was 'Jesus, he's lost weight'. There was a twitchy, edgy aura about him that he quickly recognised. Disappointment as well as anger flooded through him. Frank was using again.
"Frank. You're late" he watched his brother's paler eyes open a little wider. Bobby wasn't in the mood to accommodate him. He was past all of that now. If he tried really hard, he might even be able to forget his blood connection to him.
"Sorry…got caught up…" Frank stammered, still standing by the other vacant chair at the table.
"Uh-huh…" then he indicated the chair.
"Sit down" he told him and watched him as he pulled it out and sat down gingerly, on the edge as if he were about to flee at the earliest inclination.
"Your partner…she told you?"
"Yeah, she told me. A son, huh? Well you kept that piece of news quiet" he accused and Frank had the grace to lower his head.
"It's not something I'm proud of" he admitted quietly.
"What? The having a son and being a father part or the not telling anybody part?" he demanded and Frank's eyes widened again. Then he shrugged. Both of them watched a waitress approach with a coffee pot. She filled the cup in front of Frank and looked enquiringly at Bobby. He shook his head; he didn't want to extend this meeting for any longer than he had to. The waitress drifted away to attend to another customer.
"I was never the best father"
"Why am I not surprised?" Bobby muttered.
"I understand you have every reason to be mad at me Bobby…."
"You understand? You walked away from mom when she needed you…us…the most. The minute you realised that there was no money then you were gone. I never saw you at the funeral…"
"I was upset…"
"And so was I buddy…so was I, she was my mom too but the difference was that I actually gave a damn about her" he hissed at him. Frank's eyes went wide with shock.
"You think I didn't care?" he whispered back.
"The only person you care about is Frank Goren" Bobby reminded him. Frank didn't reply, he couldn't because he knew that his brother was right. An awkward few seconds ensued before Frank sat forwards. Bobby watched him open an old cheap wallet and extract a small photo. He looked at it for a second and then laid it flat on the table. He pushed it towards Bobby who picked it up and looked at it.
"He doesn't look like you" he told him after a few moments went by.
"I know, that's what Patty said too but I think he looks like you" Bobby flicked a suspicious look at him and handed back the picture to him.
"Talk to me" he said.
Donny Carlson was nineteen years old and according to his father he was a seemingly good kid. What kind of explanation was that? Seemingly? He didn't look at him; he felt that if he did, he'd do something that he would later regret. That was the problem with his older brother; in his life he'd had opportunities. He possessed a sharp brain, had the potential to go far and make a success of his life and what had he done instead? He'd let it rot away thanks to alcohol, drugs and whatever else had caught his interest. He possessed a weakness, a self-destruct button that his father had also possessed. The family had expected Frank to be the smart one, they'd had no real expectations of their younger child and ironically he'd been the one to succeed. He'd been ever mindful of that self-destruct button in his DNA, it was always there, waiting and begging to be pushed. He was aware of it, of its potential but hadn't gone near it. Maybe teetered dangerously close but like a kind of Pandora's box, he'd never been curious enough to test its potency. He guessed that if he did press it hard enough then there would be no coming back for him.
"I got something for you Bobby…" he lifted his head and saw that Frank held something in his hand, wrapped in a white handkerchief. He put it on the table and pushed it across and reluctantly Bobby picked it up. With a quiet sigh he unwrapped it and his fingers paused as its mystery was uncovered. A ring. Mom's engagement ring. He just stared at it for a moment, trying to remember the last time he'd seen it. Finally he looked at him.
"I..." he paused and cleared his throat "I thought you would've pawned this…for sure I thought you would've sold it…" he frowned slightly and picked up the silvery diamond ring.
"Well you thought wrong. You should have it. I want you to have it" he then reached across and closed his brother's fist around it. Bobby looked at him for a long moment.
"Because you want to make sure that I'll co-operate?" Frank's eyes went wide again.
"No…no…I want you to have it because I know you'd appreciate it more…" Bobby held up a hand and gently shook his head. He took his own handkerchief out of his pocket and dropped the ring into it, folding it securely and putting it in his own pocket.
"So will you…?" Bobby raised reluctant eyes to his brother's face.
"Will I what?"
"See how Donny is? And help him if you can?"
"I'll see what I can do, but no promises, okay?" he got to his feet and walked away.
tbc...