Thanks a lot for all the reviews I've received until now! I'd be glad if you continue to tell me your opinion.
So, here's the last part. Hope you like it.

Chapter 4

Stoically, Don sat on a hard plastic chair in the waiting area of the emergency room. His gaze blank, he stared at the cold tiles in front of him, seeing the same images again and again: Charlie lying on the floor as if dead, Charlie arguing with him, Charlie explaining a mathematic formula to him and the team, Charlie just laughing, Charlie…

Don swallowed and sensed that the tears were again threatening to overwhelm him. And this time he let it happen. He couldn't. He couldn't stand it any more. He was done.

How on earth could this whole thing have happened? Why hadn't he been able to protect his brother?

Simple enough, 'coz you're a rotten brother, a vicious voice in Don's mind said. You were arguing with him. Congratulations. The last conversation with your brother had been a fight because you wanted him to drop everything else for you.

Don's lonesome, desperate sobs echoed from the walls. The last conversation… No! No, that couldn't have been it! Charlie shouldn't die! He couldn't die! He was… so young, he had so many plans with his work, with Amita, he couldn't die! He was Don's little brother…

Without acknowledging it, Don had folded his hands and was praying silently, his sobs fading away unheard. Please, God, don't let him die, please don't. He… I wouldn't stand that. First mom and now Charlie… I couldn't bear that. Please, please, don't take him away from me. I'll take better care of him in the future, I promise, but please don't take him away from me. I need him.

The part of Don that was still too shocked to do anything active listened to the words in his head coming from deep inside his heart. This part was surprised, although it knew at the same time that it was the truth: Don needed Charlie. And he didn't know what he would do if something happened to his little brother, something that couldn't be made good again.

"Donnie!"

Don recognized the voice at once, although it was close to dying away. While he stood and turned towards his father, he hastily wiped the tears from his face and reddened eyes with his sleeve.

"Dad," he answered quietly so the fragility of his voice kept a passably low profile.

Before Don could order his legs to move to his father, Alan had already reached him and the Eppes men hugged tightly, the only hold they could give each other. Don sensed Alan's back quiver, and he was again on the edge of breaking down himself, but this time he had to be strong. He had to support his father at least.

Don had held his eyes shut tight during the hug, and it wasn't until he opened them that he noticed Megan, Larry and Amita. He let go of his father and the two of them detached from each other.

"Thank you for bringing him here," Don said, as calmly as possible.

"No problem," Megan returned quietly. She glanced at the door to the Emergency Room before her gaze fixed Don. "Do they know anything yet?"

Don shook his head and took a shaky breath in through his nose. "Two gunshot wounds, one in the shoulder, the other one in the gut. And… and he's lost a lot of blood. They didn't say more." It had been enough, though. Generally, everything was clear: the shot in the shoulder must have hit Charlie at the very beginning of the ordeal, and the second when one of the snipers had shot Phelps in the shoulder. Everything was logical; it would probably make a neat report. Nevertheless, Don could still not comprehend everything that had happened. Not as long as his little brother was in there, struggling with death.

Megan laid her hand on his shoulder, though she didn't say anything. Also Larry, his hands covering his mouth and nose, and Amita, her eyes wet with tears, remained silent.

He won't make it, Don thought desperately. They know that he won't make it.

He turned away from them. He couldn't stand it anymore to look in their widened eyes. Desperation threatened to pull him down again, but this time Don knew that he couldn't let it happen. I believe in you, Charlie, he thought, strained, you feel it? I don't give you in. I know that you'll make it. Don't let me down.

And somewhere deep down in the inside, Don knew that Charlie heard him.

0 = 1 - 2 + 3 - 4 + 5 - 6 + 7 - 8 + 9 - 9 + 8 - 7 + 6 - 5 + 4 - 3 + 2 - 1 = 0

It was dark.

He glanced around. No, there was nothing, everything empty. And on the other side? Neither. Maybe behind him? Possible. If he only knew where this 'behind' was.

"Charlie!"

Charlie turned his head towards the sweet voice calling him. There was a light. Blinded, he squinted his eyes. Heavens, that was flashy. Though fair and beautiful. As well as the voice. "Come, Charlie! We're waiting for you."

Charlie didn't even think about it and walked towards the voice feeling as if he were walking on velvet.

It was around half way that he sensed a gaze on his back and he turned. "Hello?" He couldn't see anything, but he knew that somebody was standing there, watching him. Guarding him.

"Don?"

The figure took a step closer and was now slightly lightened by the flashy, white light. A strong, muscular body, sharp, angular, but handsome features, crow's-feet around the smiling eyes. Unmistakably Don.

"Are you coming, Charlie?" Again the brilliant-clear voice.

Charlie examined his brother for a long time before he turned halfway towards it. "Soon mom."

But she didn't let go. "It doesn't hurt here anymore, Charlie."

"But mom, Don's here!"

"No, Charlie, he isn't here. He's over there with all the others."

Charlie was confused. He could see Don. He could even go over to him… at least he thought he could. He ordered his legs to do so, but strangely they didn't move an inch.

"Why isn't Donnie with us? Why aren't we with the others?"

"That's the course of the world, Charlie."

"But I don't want to leave them!"

Margaret remained silent, mysterious.

"What will I do, mom?

"You have to know yourself, my boy. You have to decide."

Again Charlie examined his brother for a long time. Don was just smiling, nothing more. He's glad to see me, the thought crossed Charlie's mind. But why?, he wondered, immediately giving the response himself. He's coming for me. I must have been away. But Don wants me back.

Charlie returned his brother's smile and stepped towards Don. The white light spread and lit the dark on their way while they walked in silence one beside another.

0 = 1 - 2 + 3 - 4 + 5 - 6 + 7 - 8 + 9 - 9 + 8 - 7 + 6 - 5 + 4 - 3 + 2 - 1 = 0

With a last gaze at his sons, Alan disappeared through the door, destination home. He really deserved a respite.

"You can just go, too. You don't have to be here all the time, Don. You surely have more important things to do."

Don smiled and shook his head. "No, to tell the truth, there's nothing more important, Chuck."

Charlie reddened. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had always known that Don liked to act as his protector. However, the fact that Don's feelings for him were strong enough to keep him in the sickroom every minute he didn't have to be at work, had been a new, a warming experience. Don had also been with him when he had woken up the first time after surgery, one week ago. And although Charlie had been quite bleary, he remembered exactly Don's telltale bright, shining eyes.

"And, how's it been today?" Don inquired and Charlie knew at once that his brother was alluding to his therapy. To the physical therapy.

"Quite well, at least Dr. Clark says so. He believes I should be able to move my arm completely in a month."

Fortunately the nerve damage in Charlie's shoulder caused by the bullet had shaped up as not too grave. And with the therapy starting four days after surgery, Charlie's chances to heal were very good.

"That's good," Don smiled.

"And…" Charlie hesitated, breathed deeply, and eventually asked: "And how is Phelps?"

At one blow Don's smile had disappeared. "I hope as rotten as someone could be in pre-trial custody," he grumbled.

Charlie was silent. He didn't want to argue with Don.

"What's up?" Don dug deeper, and there was a strange mixture of anxiety and incomprehension mirroring in his eyes.

"It's just…" Charlie fell silent again.

"What?" Don said urging. "Talk to me, buddy! You can't seriously want to tell me that you pity this son of a bitch!"

Charlie was looking at his hands twisting into each other on the white blanket. "It's not that I wouldn't say that he was a bit extreme…" he mumbled, but he didn't get further.

"A bit extreme? A bit extreme?! Charlie, he nearly got you killed!"

"Yeah, well, but…"

"I can't believe it, Charlie! Please do me a favour and don't try to defend this monster! There's nothing – you hear me, nothing – that could justify what he did!"

"But that's not what this is about, right now!"

Don paused. Charlie was right. This wasn't about Don's hatred towards the man that had nearly got his little brother killed, but about Charlie. Don felt that something was bothering his brother, and it was his damn duty to be there for him. Not just because he had vowed it.

"What is it about, then, Charlie?" Don asked quietly and hoped he sounded as soft as he wanted to be for his brother.

Again Charlie breathed deeply. "It's just…Phelps has lost everything, just because he failed my exam. His parents stopped supporting him, he had to go to jail and then even his girlfriend left him. And all of this just because…just because he failed my exam. I mean…Don, what do I do if I make someone fail?"

Don stared at him. He hadn't looked at the whole of it from this point of view. He had only paid attention to Charlie until now, not to the monster that had nearly destroyed him. In his thoughts Don corrected the image: the monster that at some point of time had been destroyed by something itself…

Don shook his head. "You can't say it like this, Charlie. You can't blame yourself for that this guy couldn't manage his life anymore. You didn't force him to become a criminal, did you? And you hadn't made him fail without reason, right?"

"Of course not," Charlie replied. "His efforts were simply not sufficient. But…"

"You see," Don said insistently, when Charlie didn't go on, "you couldn't make him pass as long as he didn't fulfil the preconditions. Just imagine he would have got his diploma, would have gone to – dunno – to the building industry or wherever and would have helped to build a… a school, for example. But since he doesn't have the necessary skills, he commits a mistake and the whole school tumbles down."

Charlie stared at him. "I think you watch too many movies," he said dryly.

Don denied himself a smile. "Not true, Chuckie. That's life. Believe me."

And Charlie believed him. He didn't know where it came from, but he had imperturbable faith in his big brother. And this faith had stood the test, with Don having whispered to him what to do during the school shooting. He had prevented everything from going haywire, just as he now brought order to Charlie's emotional chaos. No doubt, Don was the best brother in the world. And the best chaos-clearer ever.

0 = 1 - 2 + 3 - 4 + 5 - 6 + 7 - 8 + 9 - 9 + 8 - 7 + 6 - 5 + 4 - 3 + 2 - 1 = 0

- The 3nd -