Brothers in Arms 2/5


Chapter One:

Cold.

Don felt the cold first, seeping through his thin dress shirt into his aching back muscles.

His eyes opened slowly and he found himself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling in a dimly lit room.

Disoriented, he tried to sit up only to feel sharp pains shooting through his torso. His head swam, and he had to lie back down for a moment and breathe to avoid passing out. His head hurt and his mind was cloudy; he struggled through the thick fog of his thoughts to figure out where he was and what had happened.

He'd been driving... The accident! Charlie! Don's thoughts suddenly cleared as he recalled trying to protect his brother from the impact. He looked around, panicked, and saw Charlie lying on the concrete floor a few yards away. His heart seized in his chest and he cried out, "Charlie!" Charlie lay deathly still and his lack of response chilled Don beyond what he thought possible. Fighting back the stabbing pains in his chest, Don scrambled over to him and gasped in shock at the sight of his brother's bloody and battered body. "No, no, no!" This wasn't happening to him. Every nightmare he'd ever had about Charlie getting hurt had now come true.

Frantic, he felt for Charlie's pulse and found it slow yet strong; his breathing shallow yet steady. Tears streaming down his face, Don called out to him, unable to keep the despair from his voice. "Come on, buddy, please wake up! Please... Please..." Don ached inside beyond the pain of his injuries, praying for Charlie to show him a sign, any sign, that he was going to be all right.

When that glimmer of hope failed to materialize, Don sat beside his motionless brother and wept, each gasp and sob causing him physical pain that was far outweighed by the emotional agony he was in. He looked into Charlie's face, devoid of emotion in its stillness but still somehow inherently innocent. Instantly blaming himself for Charlie's condition, Don thought: what have I done? This is my fault. Charlie's hurt because of me.

After a moment, Don realized he had to get a hold of himself. He knew deep down that wallowing in his failure wasn't going to get them out of this situation so he choked down his emotions, allowing the trained agent in him to take over. Using his triage experience, he tried to assess Charlie's injuries. His inspection found no evidence of broken limbs and the cuts on his face and head seemed mostly superficial. The fact that they were not actively bleeding told Don he likely had been unconscious for at least a couple of hours since the accident.

Don looked around the small room, but there was no sign of Carmen. He inspected their prison, hoping to find some way out. They appeared to be in a basement room, given the look of the floors and walls. There was a single water faucet dripping slowly into a large bucket but otherwise the room was empty.

The concrete floor was very cold so Don gathered his brother up in his arms in hopes of keeping him warm. He was more nervous than he'd like to admit about being unable to wake Charlie. He had no way of knowing the severity of the head injuries beyond the cuts.

Don propped up Charlie so his head was on Don's shoulder. Don rocked him back and forth, more to comfort himself than anything else. When he couldn't bear the silence any longer he started talking to Charlie, partially in hopes of waking him but also to chase away the doubts he had about finding a way to get his brother out of this situation.

"Well, Dad's going to be pretty pissed at me. He's going to say 'Why did you take your baby brother with you when you knew people were after this witness? What, there weren't any other FBI agents that could give him a ride?' What am I supposed to say to that, Charlie? I was selfish? I was having such a good time working with my little brother that I didn't want him to not be in the car with me?"

Don wasn't sure how long he'd been babbling when Charlie finally stirred.

"Hey, buddy... Come on back, it's okay..." Don said softly, relieved that he was finally coming around.

Only a second after Charlie's face began to register consciousness, it began to register pain. His breath became ragged and his body curled in on itself automatically in a protective gesture. Don's relief turned to fear when he saw Charlie's reaction and he held him closer, scared, and whispered reassuring words.

"You're going to be fine, everything's going to be fine. I'll get us out of this, you'll see."

Charlie took a sharp breath and held it, startling Don who pulled back to look at him.

Charlie's eyes fluttered as he looked up into his brother's face. "Donnie..."

"I'm right here, buddy," Don said in his best big brother voice.

"Hurts..." Charlie's voice was barely above a whisper and it broke Don's heart to hear the pain in it.

"Hurts..." Charlie repeated and after another gasp of pain, he fell limp, eyes closing, fading back into unconsciousness.

Don had tried to be strong up to that point, but this drove to the center of his being. His desolation complete, he held his brother tightly and let the sobs wrack his body until he too faded away.


A loud noise in the distance woke Don. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out but his first response was to check on Charlie. Still breathing, heart still steady, even if it didn't seem quite as strong as before. Based on his hunger pangs, Don guessed that he'd missed at least two meals already.

The noises continued and Don could tell they were a group of footsteps heading his way.

He carefully laid Charlie down in a position similar to how he'd found him and took his place on the floor where he'd originally been. He hoped the kidnappers would assume they'd never regained consciousness and would not do any new harm to either of them.

Don lay down, closed his eyes, and opened his trained ears to any sounds that might help him assess their situation.

The door opened only long enough for the people on the other side to throw someone in the cell with them.

Don waited a few minutes until the noises were gone then went to see if it was Carmen. It was, and she was in much worse shape than Charlie. She was barely breathing and her wounds had not stopped bleeding yet. As he did what he could to bandage her wounds with strips of her clothing, Don reminded himself that she could have been injured after the accident as well and tried not to beat himself up over it. He needed to stay sharp if he and his brother were going to get out of this alive. Unless help arrived soon, Don feared it would be too late for Carmen.


When Charlie woke next, Don tried desperately to get him to drink some water, knowing they'd likely been held captive for over 12 hours at this point if his fatigue and hunger were any indication. He'd been unable to get any sort of response from Carmen and after watching her vital signs slip, he resigned himself to saving the one person who still had a chance.

With Charlie unable to sit up on his own and without a cup, Don was frustrated in his attempts to get water to Charlie. He finally carried Charlie across the room and held him under the tap. He choked slightly but managed to drink more than Don could have brought to him.

Charlie didn't speak but his face showed the pain he was in had not abated at all.

Don choked down his guilt and, after checking on Carmen one last time, settled down with Charlie for the night.


Don woke on the floor, confused for a moment. His memory finally returned to him after a few seconds. He'd tried to hold Charlie up off the floor all night but his own pain and injuries coupled with lack of food and exhaustion did him in. He had laid Charlie down on the floor on his side and wrapped himself around him as best he could to share his body heat.

Touching Charlie, Don was alarmed to find his skin cold. Don's chest clenched and he rushed to check Charlie's pulse. It was still there, just harder to find than the day before. Don checked on Carmen next and found her to be truly cold to the touch. She hadn't made it through the night.

Feeling desperate and helpless, Don made one more round of the cell, hoping he'd missed something the day before. His efforts turned up nothing again. There was no way out of the room unless someone came and let them out. Don knew he was the only one who could get Charlie out in time, but he was unable to make any headway with getting the door open.

Don drank his fill of water and sat back down with Charlie to warm him up as best he could.


The day passed much the same way as the last had, with the exception of Carmen's arrival and demise. No food, no visits from the kidnappers, and a struggle to wake Charlie enough to help him drink water. At this rate, if Don couldn't bring him around soon, he'd die of dehydration before Don perished from starvation.

Don knew in his heart what their fate was if no one found them. Kidnappers who wanted ransom often abused their captives but they always fed them, not wanting their insurance to die in case they were needed as leverage. These people likely hadn't been interested in ransom at all. They'd simply wanted to grab Carmen and he and Charlie just got in the way. Don figured they tortured her to find out what she'd told the FBI, then dumped her soon to be dead body in the room with them and left with no intention of returning. Don figured the last thing they wanted was for Carmen to turn up, dead or alive.

Don had yelled, screamed, and pounded on the door. He'd tried breaking it down, despite how much it aggravated his already painful injuries. He'd tried picking the lock as well. All of his personal items had been taken including his gun and wallet so he had nothing to work with. Charlie and Carmen's pockets were also barren. Don would have given anything for even a piece of bubble gum. He would have ended up saving it for Charlie though, despite the fact that its meager sugar calories likely wouldn't do much good at this point.

The second night was worse than the first. Charlie was cold even before Don laid him down on the floor and his guilt at not being able to hold him up any longer was killing him. He feared he'd wake, as he did the morning before, to find that this time it was Charlie's turn to not make it through the night.

As such, he barely slept, constantly monitoring Charlie's breathing and pulse rate and forcing down his panic as both slowed and grew more uneven.


The morning of the third day, Don tried to pull Charlie up and found he could no longer do so. His headache and dizzy spells had been getting worse each day instead of better, and each day it was harder to open his eyes and keep them open. He struggled to keep himself up, knowing that if he lost consciousness, Charlie might not stand a chance. It'd already been half a day since he'd been able to force any water down Charlie's throat and he knew he couldn't go much longer. He tried valiantly to drag Charlie to the water tap but collapsed partway there. Don gathered the last of his reserves and reached for his brother only to have his sight dim as his hand touched his arm.

"Charlie..." he whispered and then there was silence.