-1Inner Peace
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1:
A/N: I truly appreciate your reviews.
Chapter 25:
"I've been waiting for you….just like I promised." The soft deep voice intoned. "Are you ready now?"
Don's eyes fluttered open but he closed them immediately against the bright, white light that encompassed him; turning his head in the direction of the voice he opened them again, squinting up at the shadowy form standing over him.
The voice was familiar, one that he was desperate to hear again but knew he could not; it was a voice that had been forever silenced because of his actions. A wave of grief washed over him as the bits and pieces of his memory began to coalesce.
Don didn't want to think about what he had done so he focused on other questions. Where was he? Why was he laying on the ground? Another thought occurred to him as the memory of being shot resurfaced; why wasn't he feeling any pain?
His eyes were adjusting to the light now and he noticed that it wasn't just a light but more like a white mist that surrounded him; it even felt like it was a part of him somehow and he turned his head to find out where he was when the speaker came into view.
Don's eyes widened in astonishment, momentarily speechless as his gaze drifted over the figure in front of him. Disbelief turned to puzzlement and then to extreme joy as he leaned back on his elbows and met the expressive brown eyes of his brother.
"Charlie?" He asked in surprise. "Is that really you?"
His brother's eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement. "Who else would I be?" Charlie patiently answered. "I've been waiting for you. Here." He said extending his hand. "Let me help you up."
Don's heart soared when he felt the warm, firm grip of his brother's hand and as soon as he was on his feet immediately embraced him in a fierce hug. He pulled back a few moments later but kept his hands firmly planted on Charlie's shoulders; too afraid that he would disappear if he let him go.
"You're okay?" he asked, searching his brother's face for signs of pain; finding none he checked him over carefully and looked up in surprise. "Your leg isn't broken anymore….and…and…your other leg is okay too. And where did you find a change of clothes?" he added, noting the clean pair of jeans and tee shirt that his brother was wearing.
Charlie shrugged. "I feel fine and as for the clothes, I was wearing them when I woke up…just like you."
Don glanced at his own attire and his eyebrows lifted in surprise. "I don't get it…how is this possible?" He felt his own shoulder and glanced at his leg, then shared an amazed look with his brother. "I was shot…twice…but…..wasn't I?'" he asked in confusion, shaking his head as if to clear it and then another thought occurred to him.
"What happened to Sammy?" He asked, turning his head to look around for her. "Where did she go?"
Charlie smiled at him then, the smile that said so much to Don; the smile that told him that he was really proud of him and that he was still his hero; the little brother smile and the warm glow in his eyes that was only reserved for Don. The smile that Don had always cherished, even though he had never told Charlie how much it meant to him.
"You saved her Don; she's safe now." He replied. "David and Colby found you in time to save her and now she's back home with her family."
Don stared deeply into his brother's eyes. "But not in time for you." he sad sadly and then a knowing look came into his eyes. "Or for me either."
Charlie's forehead creased in thought. "I don't think so but I'm not really sure. " he glanced at the white mist that surrounded them. "I haven't done any research in the area of "near death experiences" although I was going to add it to my Cognitive Emergence work. Besides," he added with a frown. "You should have the answer to that question; after all, you're the one that almost died a few months ago. Was it like this?"
"That's just it Charlie." Don said with a shrug. "The only thing I remember from when I was stabbed was waking up and finding Dad sitting beside the bed."
Suddenly, he smiled broadly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "But if I died then I'm okay with that as long as we're together. " his smile was replaced with a frown and his dark eyes clouded over with pain and guilt. "I'll never leave you again buddy…I promise."
"You didn't leave me Don. I asked you to take Sammy home….remember?" Charlie said glancing sideways at him. "Please…I don't want you to feel guilty about what happened." He cleared his throat and looked away. "So, what are we supposed to do now?"
"Damned if I know. " Don replied. "Any suggestions?"
"I don't know. You want to go for a walk?"
An incredulous look crossed Don's features. "What? Two days walking the Mojave isn't enough for you?"
Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged again. "What do you want to do?"
"I think we should try to find Dad. "
"How?" The younger man asked spreading his arms wide and turning in a circle. "This white mist is everywhere. There isn't anything here that would help us determine our location or even to figure out which direction we should go in."
"I have a feeling that if we just start walking we'll find him." Don said confidently.
Charlie tilted his head and crossed his arms. "What imperial evidence are you basing that on?"
"Come on Chuck, just go with me on this one." his brother chuckled. "Call it a hunch."
Charlie opened is mouth to argue the point but found himself at a loss for words and a grin spread across his face. "Okay." He said simply with a wave of his hand. "Lead on."
Don grinned and hooked an arm around his brother's neck as they set off to search for Alan.
33333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333
Disbelief spread across Colby's face as he listened to Juan Chavez. The Mexican had been brought in to give his official statement and the agent was having difficulty believing anything that the man had told them. Dressed in an orange jumpsuit with the words "High Desert Prison" stenciled on the back he had arrived with his lawyer in an effort to cut a deal with the agents. The Mexican was seated at the end of the table and handcuffed to an iron bar fastened to the table top.
Colby shared an incredulous look with Liz as Chavez tried to present himself as a victim in the case.
"Let me get this straight." he said sitting back in his chair. "You're saying that Martinez forced you to help him pursue Agent Eppes, Professor Eppes and Samantha Wilkins across the desert."
With a look of complete innocence on his face the Mexican answered. "Si….ah…yes. That is correct."
"Did you help him kidnap the girls too?"
"No…no!" Wide-eyed and fearful the man quickly responded. "He did that on his own…I didn't even know it was him until he ordered me to help find those two guys and the kid."
Liz leaned forward. "Just how do you explain the fact that the bullet that hit Agent Eppes was shot from the rifle that you were carrying when you were arrested?" The agent leaned back and crossed her arms. "Oh and lets not forget that we arrived just in time to prevent you from shooting him again. "
Juan swallowed hard. "I just wounded him so Rico would think that I killed him and I was just going to pretend to shoot him again…to convince Rico…you know?"
"Cut the crap and tell us the truth Chavez?"
Juan feigned a look of hurt and anguish. "But I am, Agent Granger. Rico had a terrible temper…everyone knew it and lots of people were afraid of him."
"Really?" Colby asked as he opened a manila folder. "Do you know Julio Ramirez?"
There was a brief flicker of recognition in Juan's eyes but he quickly masked his features as he recalled beating the man senseless for stepping on a new pair of shoes that he was wearing at the time. The old drunk had been a friend of Rico's and apparently a loose end he should have taken care of before chasing after the Eppes brothers.
The Mexican shrugged his shoulders. "The name sounds familiar; I believe he was a friend of Rico's."
Colby nodded thoughtfully and tapped the folder on the table. "According to Ramirez you are the one with the bad temper and he also said that Martinez was afraid of you too."
Juan poured on the charm and smiled disarmingly. "Why would anyone be afraid of me? Julio is a drunken old man, perhaps he has me confused with someone else."
"Which one of you beat up Professor Eppes?" Liz asked, trying to catch him off guard.
"After we found him, Rico ordered me to look for the agent and the little girl. He stayed with the Professor and I did not see either of them again." His eyed her thoughtfully and then asked. "I'm sure Professor Eppes has already told you what happened to him…..unless for some reason he is unable to tell you? " He looked from agent to agent hoping for a response.
"We want to hear your side of the story. " Liz responded with a stony gaze.
"You were pointing a gun at Agent Eppes when we arrived. " Colby stated, drawing the Mexican's attention back to him. "And you were also talking to him. What did you say? "
The Mexican leaned forward so that he could scratch his goatee before answering the agent. "I told him that I would try and get some help for him and the little girl. " He met the agent's eye, carefully masking his own emotions. "I would never hurt anyone but surely Agent Eppes has already told you this."
Colby nodded at Liz and together they headed for the door. "Sit tight Chavez. " Colby said sarcastically over his shoulder. "We'll be back soon. "
As soon as they left the Mexican's attorney moved closer so they could talk without anyone overhearing their conversation.
David and Nikki were monitoring the interrogation from another room and looked up when the agents joined them.
"Are you buying any of that crap?" Colby asked nodding at the two men on the video monitor.
"That son of a bitch is lying through his teeth." Liz muttered angrily.
"Of course he is." David agreed. "But with Martinez dead and without Don and Charlie's testimony the man actually has a chance at getting a lighter sentence."
"I don't suppose there is any chance that the little girl would be able to recognize him?" Nikki asked hopefully.
David shook is head. "No chance. Samantha was badly traumatized by the abduction and her parents are seeking help from a child therapist. As a matter of fact, Mr. Wilkins called this morning to see if we had any specifics that might help the doctor treat her." He ran his hand over his face. "You should have seen her screaming for "Uncle Donnie" and "Uncle Charlie" when we took her away from Don." He sat down on the edge of the table and shared a look with Colby. "That's going to stay with me for a long time."
"Yeah, me too." Colby agreed and then asked. "What else did Wilkins have to say?"
"Well, I told him about her reaction and apparently that was the last time that she said anything at all…..she hasn't spoken a single word since then. "
"That poor little girl." Nikki murmured.
Liz glanced at her teammates. "Has anyone heard from Alan today?"
David rubbed his forehead before answering. "No." he sighed heavily. "But Robin stopped by a half an hour ago."
Three pairs of eyes anxiously met his but he shook his head sadly and said softly.
"Nothings changed. "
333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333
The white mist surrounded them like a cocoon; it was all en-compassing, not only around them but within them as well. Time had no meaning within the mist and it was as if the pressures and constraints of life had been stripped from their shoulders.
They walked side by side, sometimes in companionable silence and other times recalling the joyous events that they had shared in life. There was no sound other than their own conversation; pain, hunger, thirst and fatigue had all disappeared; cast out of the idyllic mist like a tattered worn out coat.
A rapturous feeling washed over them and for the first time in a very long time, Don felt at peace. He drank in the feeling like it was a cool glass of water, quenching his weary soul like water quenched his thirst and he relished every moment of it. He glanced at his brother and could tell from the expression on his face that he was experiencing the same sensations.
He stopped suddenly and grabbed Charlie's arm. "Listen." he said, tilting his head to the side. "Do you hear that?"
Charlie shook his head and listened intently. "Hear what?"
Don peered through the white mist. "It's really faint but it sounded like a beep of some kind, like something mechanical…and there were voices too. "
The young professor strained to hear the noises but in the end just shook his head again. "Don I don't hear anything."
The agent shrugged. "I must have imagined it."
They started forward again but a few minutes' later Don slowed to a stop. "There it is again." he said excitedly. "Its louder this time…..you heard it that time, right?" He took a step toward the noise and glanced over his shoulder but his brother wasn't moving, just standing in the same spot.
"Charlie, let's check this out." He said over his shoulder as he stepped closer to the sound.
Charlie started to follow but came up short when he met with an invisible barrier. "Don wait! " he desperately shouted, stretching his hand out to feel the obstacle. "I can't follow you!"
Don had turned back at his brother's call and although an unseen force was pulling him toward the strange sound he pushed against it to retrace his steps.
Fear laced Charlie's gaze as he met Don's eyes. "I can't come with you." he whispered sadly.
Panic spurred Don's feet as he hurried through the barrier to join his brother. "I don't understand….why can I go through it, but not you?"
Charlie brought his hand up against the invisible barrier and glanced sideways at Don. "I have a theory." he said quietly. "Maybe you aren't really dead ….and it's time for you to return home …but ….but…I am and that's why I can't go through."
"What are you saying Charlie?" Don demanded, eyes flashing angrily. "That you died but I didn't and now I have to go back and leave you again."
"Think about Don." Charlie pleaded with him. "What else could it mean?"
"No!" Don shouted in denial. "That is not going to happen!"
"But what about ….."
Charlie tried to reason with him but stopped talking when his brother stepped closer and put his hands on his shoulders. Eye to eye, Don set his jaw and calmly but firmly made his decision.
"I left you once and I will not do that again. We go back together or we don't go back at all."
3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333
Alan stood halfway between the two hospital beds and glanced from son to son. He would leave his chair periodically to check on them and to convince himself that they were both really alive and breathing.
Twin beeps from dual heart monitors and other medical equipment filled the room with noise reminding him of that very fact but he needed to touch them and feel their heartbeats before his own heart would slow to its normal pace.
Alan sighed audibly; he needed them to wake up, he desperately needed his sons to open their eyes for him. It had been five days since they had been rescued and during that time neither one of them had regained consciousness. Charlie had been put into a medically induced coma because of a severe concussion but Don's doctor was still searching for the reason that he was in a coma.
He glanced at the newspaper that was on the chair behind him; the media had hailed them as heroes. Don and Charlie had somehow managed to rescue the little girl from her kidnappers and now she was home, safe and sound, with her family.
Pictures of Charlie, Don and the little girl were on the front page of the LA Times and every newspaper in town. In bold letters the headlines read the same. "Eppes Brothers Save Kidnapped Girl in Daring Rescue" or "FBI Kills Serial Killer in Shoot out. " There were other variations too but those seemed to be the most popular. It was quite a story and played out like an action movie. Alan knew it by heart but the one thing that was missing was Don and Charlie's account of what really occurred out there; until then the FBI could only speculate. Their story was being told on all of the national and local newscasts as well and a few of the trendy talk show hosts had already tried to contact them.
Photos of the two Mexican gunmen were also shown in the paper but the FBI was still working on the case so little information was known about either of the two men. One of the men had been identified as the man responsible for the brutal rape and slayings of the three little girls and also for the kidnapping of Samantha Wilkins. To the relief of the parents around the Los Angeles area he had died in a shootout with the agents. Little was known about the second man and the extent of his involvement in the case other than the fact that he was reportedly a relative of the serial killer.
Alan's thoughts didn't linger on them; he was a fair man, always had been, but he felt that the man got what he deserved. It seemed to bring a sense of justice for the murdered children and if the second man had a part in it then he could stand trial and pay the ultimate penalty for his involvement. He didn't know what their story was but he felt no pity for them; they had tried to kill his sons and the little girl would have died a horrifying death had she fallen into Martinez's hands again.
"Yes." He thought. "Justice had been served, he was glad that monster had been killed."
A hospital attendant entered the room interrupting his dark thoughts.
"Mr. Eppes aren't these just beautiful." She said handing him a large basket of orchids and roses. "And look who they're from." The attendant added with a wink of her eye.
Alan opened the card and his eyebrow's rose up in surprise. "The Queen of England."
"Your sons are very popular." The young woman waived her hand. "We are running out of places to put them in here."
"Ah….maybe we could give some of them to people who don't have any in their rooms. I know that's what the boys would want me to do."
"Why, that's very kind of you Mr. Eppes. Why don't you sort through them and set the ones that you want to give away outside of the door and I'll distribute them to the other patients. It will certainly brighten their day." She glanced at the brothers and sighed. "I hope they wake up soon." She patted him on the arm on her way out of the door.
Alan looked at the basket and then glanced around the room. It was filled to capacity with flowers, balloons and cards from family, friends and a multitude of unknown well wishers. It seemed that all of LA was intent on honoring Don and Charlie for their heroic feat. He blinked at the card in the flower arrangement and amended that last thought. "Not just LA."
His eyes fell on a basket of roses that had been delivered earlier in the morning. It seemed that the Governor was also following the story. "I think we'll keep this one too..…the boys will have to see it to believe it."
He found an empty corner and put the flowers down and shuffled back to his spot between the beds. Yes, they were heroes and Alan couldn't be more proud of them but it had almost cost them their lives. The doctor's had said that their prognosis was good but if the FBI hadn't found them in time he would have lost them both, and from what David had told him, time had just about run out.
Trying to put that dark thought out of his mind, he moved forward and fussed with Don's blanket, careful not to touch the bandages on his chest and his leg. Alan's eyes drifted over his son's body and he mentally clicked off his injuries. Two bullet wounds, one in the left shoulder and a graze on his left leg. A mild concussion, dehydration, which accounted for the fluids that were being pumped intravenously into his body and of course, his face and arms had sustained a nasty sunburn; courtesy of the Mojave Desert.
"Come back to me son. " Alan whispered and squeezed his hand before turning to the second bed.
Charlie's dark curls and sunburn were in stark contrast to the white bandage that was wrapped around his head. That injury was the reason he was still unconscious. His doctor had deemed it necessary to put him in a dug-induced coma to help reduce the swelling of his brain from a severe concussion.
Moisture formed in the corners of his eyes as he noted the rest of the bandages now decorating his youngest son. One over a bullet wound in his right shoulder and dark bruises surrounded the strips of cloth that were wrapped around his chest, protecting his two broken ribs. His lower left leg was covered with a cast, protecting a broken tibia and another bandage encircled his upper right thigh covering a long gash that had required a number of stitches. Dehydration and sunburn ended his extensive list of injuries, prompting Alan to sigh heavily as he adjusted the blanket covering his youngest.
The respirator was disconcerting, but his doctor planned to remove it later in the day. The previous evening he had started to wean Charlie from the pentobarbital that he was using to keep him asleep and was sure that once it was completely out of his system they should see a change in his condition.
Alan placed his hand lightly on his son's chest, over his heart, and sighed with relief when he could feel it beating beneath his fingers.
The door to the room opened and he looked up as he swept a curl from his son's forehead. A nurse and attendant entered and approached Charlie's bed.
Alan's hand drifted to his son's hand and he gave it a gentle squeeze, leaning over he whispered in Charlie's ear. "Hurry back to me son."
"It's time for us to take Charlie for his EEG Mr. Epps." The nurse said quietly.
Alan simply nodded and stepped away from the bed and watched as they disconnected the monitors and in only a few seconds they were rolling the bed through the doorway.
The nurse glanced back at Alan . "He'll be back in about an hour or so." She said over her shoulder as she followed the orderly out of the room.
Alan pulled his chair closer to Don's bedside and let his hand lightly rest on Don's chest so that he could feel the beating of his heart. Satisfied he wearily sank into the chair and gently took his son's hand. The room seemed ominously silent now, with only one heart monitor breaking up the silence.
The door opened again and Don's doctor and a nurse entered the room. Alan rose from the chair and watched as they performed a cursory examination of his son. The Doctor made notations on Don's chart and spoke softly to the nurse; moments later she quietly left the room.
Dr. Martinson, a man in his early fifties, studied the elderly man on the other side of the bed. He had become quite familiar with the gentlemen in the last few days and could only imagine the strain the man had been under as he stepped around the bed to talk with him.
"Have you discovered something?" Alan asked anxiously.
The doctor removed his glasses and stuck them in the pocket of his white coat. "Nothing. There is no physical reason for him to be unconscious." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Let me ask you a question Mr. Eppes. Do you know if Don suffered a traumatic event before his injury?"
Alan's eyebrows rose sharply in surprise. Traumatic event, didn't the guy read the papers?
Martinson read his expression and quickly explained the reason for his question. "I know that what he recently experienced was certainly traumatic but I want to know if you are aware of another traumatic event that he might have experienced and would have to deal with again if he were to wake up."
Noting Alan's confusion he went on to explain. "There have been many documented cases where a person was comatose and a medical condition could not be found to explain it. When the patients recovered it was discovered that all of them had shared a recent traumatic event and couldn't bear to face it again." He paused to gauge the elder man's reaction. "I believe that Don will wake up when he's ready and not a minute before."
Alan cleared his throat. "Hmm….how long were these people in a coma?"
"The cases varied in length, some as short as three days, others went on for years."
"Years." Alan whispered dismayed, letting his eyes drift to his sons face.
"That doesn't mean that Don will be under that long." The doctor was quick to add. "Each patient is different, it could be a shorter period of time…or a longer one…there is really no way to be certain."
Alan glanced up, a hopeful light in his eyes. "I'm hoping for shorter."
Martinson nodded. "I've compared Don's scans with several of those cases and they are very similar. As a matter of fact your son has come close to wakening several times but always seems to pull back before he gains consciousness. I'm ordering another EEG today and I'm hopeful that I will see an improvement." He turned to leave but paused at the door. "Are your sons very close?"
Alan's brow furrowed. "Close? Why, yes they are. Why do you ask?"
"A few years ago there was a case involving a set of twins that had been injured in separate car accidents. As a result they were both comatose for several weeks in different hospitals and in different states. When the doctors reports were reviewed it turned out that both of the girls had awakened at the exact same time and when interviewed related the same experiences. Both of them had reported that they were together the entire time." He shrugged and put his hand on the door. "There is still a lot that we don't know about the brain Mr. Eppes. My point is this: don't give up."
Alan brought his chin up, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. "Not a chance."
"Good." The doctor responded and left the room.
Alan tenderly gripped his son's hand. "Why won't you wake up son?" he whispered brokenly. "What could have happened that is so terrible that you don't want to face?" He stood up suddenly and superciliously wiped at a tear as the door opened and a nurse and orderly entered the room.
"Mr. Eppes, your son has been scheduled for another EEG." The nurse announced as she began to unhook the monitors. "It's almost lunchtime." She said with a smile. "Now would be a good time for you to grab a bite. Don will be back in about an hour."
The door closed behind them and Alan glanced around the now silent room. He took a deep breath and decided to take the nurse's advice.
333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333
The elevator chimed and the door opened on the 4th floor of the busy hospital. Among the people disembarking was a young woman and at first glance she appeared to be alone but as she looked around the busy hallway the child that had been walking slightly behind her drifted forward to stand at her side. The woman knelt down and spoke softly to the little girl; kissed her lovingly on the cheek and rose with her in her arms then she carefully stepped around carts bearing meals for the patients on the floor and orderlies wheeling patients to other parts of the hospital to make her way to the nurse's station.
"Excuse me." She said politely and waited for the nurse to look up.
"I'll be with you in just a moment." The nurse replied without looking up. A few moments later she closed the folder that she had been writing in and met the young woman's gaze. "How can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Don and Charlie Eppes. " She answered hesitantly. "I was told they were on this floor."
"Are you immediate family?"
"Well…no…not exactly." The woman replied; her arms tightening around the child in her arms. The little girl wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and stared somberly at the woman behind the desk.
"I'm sorry. Unless you are family or on the approved visitors list I cannot let you go in."
Disappointment crossed the woman's features "Oh…of course….I understand." She bent her head and kissed the top of the little girls head. "I'm sorry Samantha but we can't see Uncle Donnie or Uncle Charlie today." She turned to leave but the nurse had overheard the child's name and called out.
"Wait." She stood up and walked around the desk to stand beside of them.
"This is the little girl they rescued?" She asked, stretching her hand out to pat the her arm. "This is Samantha?"
"Yes it is."
"How is she doing?" The nurse asked compassionately. "That was an awful ordeal for such a small child to endure."
"Yes, it was." Angela Wilkins agreed, hugging her daughter fiercely, as if she could make the whole experience disappear. "But I'm afraid that it's going to take a while for her to get over it." Her eyes lit up hopefully. "That's one reason we are here, you see the therapist thought it would be could for her to see them again."
The nurse shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry but I still can't let you in without proper authorization." The crestfallen look on the woman's face prompted her to add. "Do you know Alan Eppes?"
"I met him once." Angela whispered, remembering the candle light vigil at the university.
"He just left a few minutes ago to have lunch in the hospital cafeteria." She leaned forward and squeezed the young woman's arm when she saw a puzzled look cross her features. "Honey, don't you see? He can give you authorization to see his sons."
Angela smiled." Thank you. We'll go down now and look for him." She glanced at her child. "Samantha is probably hungry anyway. Are you hungry baby?"
But Samantha didn't respond, she just laid her head on her mother's breast and stared at the nurse.
"She doesn't talk anymore." Angela said, her voice cracking. "She will eat if I give her something and do what I tell her to do but she hasn't said a word since we got her back."
"Oh, you poor dear little girl." The nurse said sympathetically; patting her back gently.
Angela cleared her throat. "Thank you for your help. Hopefully, we'll see you in a little while with Mr. Eppes."
333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333
Alan alternately picked at his salad and checked his watch. Lost in thought he would take a bite of salad and then glance at his watch but as he dismally discovered it didn't make the time go any faster.
"Excuse me…Mr. Eppes? May we join you?"
Alan brought his head up; his eyes hardening. When would those damn reporters stop hounding him, well, no more, he was tired of it and he had just opened his mouth to tell the woman that he wanted to be left alone when he realized that she had said we and yet she was the only one standing on the other side of his table.
"We?" He asked, peering over his glasses.
"We." The young woman repeated, letting her eyes drift down to her side.
Alan followed her gaze and met a pair of small blue eyes surrounded by a head full of blonde curls peaking out from behind her mother's leg. Tearing his eyes away from the child he took a closer look at the young woman's face and rose from his chair as a look of recognition and surprise crossed his face.
"It's you." He whispered and then recovered himself. "Forgive me; I thought you were one of those annoying reporters. Please….please sit down……both of you."
"Thank you." She said and set her tray down on the table and slid her tote bag to the floor but she didn't sit down, instead she took her daughters hand, stepping around the table until she was standing in front of Alan. She knelt down beside the little girl and introduced her to the older man.
"Samantha this is Mr. Eppes. "
"It's a pleasure to meet you Samantha." Alan replied, bending over to offer her his hand but he was dismayed by her reaction when she immediately turned and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, hiding her face from him.
"I'm sorry. She's afraid of people now, the therapist says that it will take a while before she begins to trust grown ups again." She forced the little girl to look around. "Samantha, Mr. Eppes is a nice man and he won't hurt you." She lifted her daughters chin, making sure that she made eye contact with her. "Mr Eppes is Uncle Donnie's and Uncle Charlie's daddy. "
The little girl looked up in awe at Alan when her mother mentioned the brothers and gazed intently at him; leaning forward to stare at his eyes. She recognized the same soft, brown eyes that she had come to love and trust and turned excitedly to her mother and exclaimed. "Uncle Chawlie and Uncle Donnie!"
Angela gasped and covered her mouth. Pulling herself together she smoothed the curls around her daughter's forehead before answering. "Yes, honey. He is their father." She rose to her feet, picking up the child as she stood and carried her around to an empty chair across from Alan.
"Now let's sit you down so you can eat your lunch." She set her on the chair and pushed it in closer to the table. Angela opened up a juice box for her and set her sandwich on a paper plate on the table in front of her. Samantha didn't say anything; she sat quietly in the chair, holding her juice box with both hands while she slowly drank her grape juice; her small blue eyes tracking Alan's movements as she slurped the juice through a straw.
Alan's jaw had dropped open in surprise when the little girl named his sons as her uncles.
"Uncle Charlie….and…and… Uncle Donnie." he finally stammered out, his voice thick with emotion.
The young woman looked away, wiping at her tears, but when she returned his gaze it was with a smile on her face. "Yes. Apparently they became her "uncles" while she was with them." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Agent Sinclair told my husband about it yesterday. It seems that Samantha made quite a fuss when she was taken away from your son Don and kept screaming for Uncle Donnie and Uncle Charlie."
"Really?" Alan said thickly. "He didn't tell me about that." he cleared his throat and gazed at the little girl. She looked so small and fragile and he could only imagine how desperate his sons must have been to get her to safety. His lips lifted in a smile as he watched her.
"When Charlie was her age he had a head full of curls too, only his were dark brown." he snorted suddenly. "Come to think of it…he still does."
"These curls have quite a story all of their own." Angela said lovingly as she fluffed her daughter's hair. She turned back to face Alan; her smile fading slightly as she spoke.
"When we first got her back…she was a mess and I mean no disrespect to your sons." She added quickly. "I'm sure they did their best to take care of her." Slightly flustered, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "What I meant to say was that she was covered in sand and dirt, her long hair was dirty and so matted that I couldn't even get a brush through it. I bathed her and washed her hair but in the end I had to take her to a salon to have it cut." Her hand shook a little as she ran her fingers through her daughter's curls. "Anyway, while we were waiting she saw a picture of your son Charlie in a book that one of the hairdressers was reading." She tilted her head. "I think it was a book that he had written."
"The Attraction Equation." Alan said proudly. "That book was actually based on a paper that Charlie wrote when he was nine but he rewrote it to reach a larger audience and had it published as a book a couple of years ago…it became a bestseller. I'm sorry." He said, embarrassed that he had interrupted her. "Please continue."
"Its okay." she smiled. "I can see you're very proud of him."
"I'm proud of both of my sons." Alan responded quietly.
"Anyway." Angela continued. "When Samantha saw his picture she became all excited and started repeating "Uncle Charlie" over and over again and then she looked up at me and said "want cuwls like Uncle Chawle." She turned her head and wiped at her eyes. before facing him again. "I don't know how to explain the emotional impact of that moment…you see…that was the first time that she had said anything since her return to us." Tears streamed down her cheeks and she pulled a tissue from her pocket. "I'm sorry it just meant so much to hear her voice again. " Her lips quirked upward in a smile. "How could I have possibly refused her request?"
"How indeed?" Alan agreed, feeling his own eyes watering as he listened to Angela's story.
Samantha tugged at her arm to get her attention and pointed to the tote bag. " Do you want your crayons sweetie? " The little girl nodded and Angela pulled a box of crayons and a notepad from the tote bag "Here you go baby." she said placing the items on the table in front of her.
She turned back to face Alan. "And a few moments ago she spoke for the second time. " Her voice caught in her throat as she gazed hopefully into his eyes. "Mr. Eppes I believe your sons can bring her back to me. Would it be alright for her to visit them?"
Alan covered his mouth with his hand as he listened to her and didn't bother to wipe at the stray tears sliding down his cheeks.
"I ah…" He cleared his throat. "My sons…..both of them….are unconscious. They've been comatose since the rescue."
"Oh…my dear man." Angela gasped, as new tears trailed down her cheeks.
The little girl shoved a picture across the table and both of them stared in amazement at the drawing.
Three stick figures were walking across the desert with a yellow sun drawn at the top of the page.
"Uncle Donnie." The little girl said pointing to one of the figures. "Uncle Chawlie." she said pointing to the figure with curly hair. Between them and holding their hands was a smaller figure. "Sammy." She said grinning up at them, her blue eyes lighting up with excitement.
TBC