Thanks again for taking the time to review, everyone. Your enthusiasm is awesome!
Without an account: Don't apologize, I appreciate your honesty. I've always been more of a technical than emotional writer, and I did fear that this would happen. I will try and take your advice. I will be revising the remaining chapters to see if I can't add a bit more character introspection. There won't be a huge difference, but hopefully it will be better. Also, this is in fact a Charlie story, but it's told from Don's POV. I've been an h/c fanatic for years, and always find the stories more enjoyable from the 'comforters' POV rather than the 'comfortee'. Thanks for your feedback.
Words in italics indicate a characters thoughts.
Inner Demons
Part 4/6
by Megan
The character of every act depends upon the circumstances in which it is done.
-Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. (1841 - 1935)
"Hey Dad," Don called as he slammed the front door behind him and walked into the kitchen. His worry for Charlie had kept him from stopping off at his apartment to change and grab a bite to eat after work, which was unusual because after an extended stake out all he wanted to do was crash. He could still hear Larry's words clearly in his head and knew he wouldn't rest until he'd had a talk with his brother.
"Donny! Well this is certainly a surprise. What brings you by?"
"I'm here to see Charlie, is he around?"
Alan's smile faded at the mention of Charlie. "He's out in the garage."
"Oh no. He's not working on that P thing again, is he?" Don hesitantly asked as memories of Charlie's retreat into the world of P vs NP came back to him.
Twice, while trying to cope with an emotional trauma, his brother had become obsessed with P vs NP, and twice he'd had to pull him out to make him see there was a world beyond the numbers where sometimes bad things happened, and people got hurt. He'd love to shield his brother from the hurts in the world, but knew to do that he'd also take away that which made him human: the chance to experience emotions and grow as a person.
"No. Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him working on any math problems recently. Would you do me a favour?"
Don shrugged, relief lightening his mood somewhat. "Sure."
"Take this out to him." Alan passed him a sandwich. "He's not eating."
"Of course he's not," Don muttered to himself as he grabbed the sandwich and started towards the garage.
"Oh, and Don?" his father called to him, while motioning for him to come back to the counter. "I realize now this is really bad timing, but Art Stanley and I will be leaving tomorrow for a four day trip. It's been planned for months now and I can't back out."
"Really? What kind of trip?"
"Well, it's more of a road trip than anything. But with Charlie behaving the way he is, I don't think..."
"No, Dad. Just... don't do that. You get time for yourself. Charlie is almost thirty and doesn't need to be baby sat." Don glanced down at the sandwich in his hand. "Usually. Listen. You said yourself he's a grown man. I'll be here to check in on him. You go and enjoy yourself, okay?" Don could see his dad was excited about the trip, and wasn't going to allow Charlie's selfish behaviour to get in the way.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. You will keep an eye on him, though?"
"Of course."
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Charlie stood in the garage in front of one of his beloved blackboards. His face was creased in one part concentration, the other part pain. He'd started the equation on the board four days ago, and had only stopped because his dad had hauled him off to bed. Now, no matter how hard he thought about the problem, the numbers wouldn't come.
The last three days had been awful. If he wasn't nauseous and throwing up, the aching in his muscles made trying to stand in front of a blackboard, or in front of a class, a lesson in torture. If not for the increasing pain in his hip, he'd have thought he had the flu.
His thoughts strayed from the black board to the disastrous day at Cal Sci. His harsh words directed at the student during his lecture, and then at Larry, rang in his mind. He'd felt horrible after, but apologizing wasn't something he'd felt like doing at the time. Not once could he remember feeling like this. The smallest annoyance sent him off the deep end and it was starting to scare him. He was supposed to be in control of things like this. Everything happened for a reason, followed a logical pattern. Everything except this. It was possible he'd returned to teaching too soon. Maybe that was the cause. Asking for a few more days off probably wouldn't hurt.
A loud knocking on the door startled him, causing him to jump slightly and jar his sore hip.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
"Charlie? I know you're in there. Open the door." No response. "Charlie! Open this damn door before I break it down!" Enough with the childish behaviour, he thought to himself.
As he was about to yell again, he heard the lock slide followed by shuffling sounds as Charlie walked away from the door. Grumbling about younger brothers always having to be difficult, Don opened the door and entered.
"Charlie, what the hell's the matter with you?" Don demanded, his brother's haggard appearance not getting past him and tempering his anger somewhat.
"Nothing." He pointedly ignored Don and stared at his black board again.
"Nothing? Do you think I'm an idiot? Dad is worried about you, Larry, and now I am too."
"Larry?"
"Yeah, Larry. He came to see me at work today because of your behaviour these past few days. Looking at you now, I can understand why he was so concerned."
"It wasn't any of his business."
"Yeah, I can see how worrying about his friend is none of his business. He told me you've been short with people-"
"He shouldn't have told you anything! I have it under control." Charlie threw down the chalk he'd been holding, his anger once again clouding his common sense. Feeling an uncontrollable urge to lash out at Don, who he knew deep down was only trying to help him, he made a move to leave. The first step caused his hip to flare.
Don didn't miss the flash on pain on his brother's face, or the way he favoured his leg. Charlie had been making excellent progress. Even walking without a cane. Why was his leg bothering him now?
"If things were under control, Charlie, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Don growled. "Come on, Buddy. Talk to me."
"Don't call me that!" Charlie snapped, all attempts to conceal his anger forgotten in a haze of pain. "I'm your brother, not your friend."
Don recoiled as though he'd been slapped, Charlie's words striking a chord. What was worse, Charlie's face showed no remorse. Angry brown eyes stared into Don's, jaw set. Don felt his own anger spike.
"How dare you, Charlie! I've done nothing but help you and this is how you treat me?"
"Help? The only thing you did was help me into the line of fire!"
Don stiffened, silence blanketing the room as Charlie's hurtful words hit home, slicing through his heart like a hot knife through butter. Normally Charlie's angry words during fights didn't affect him like this, but the truth behind them this time both angered and saddened him. Charlie's injury shouldn't have happened, but he doesn't have to treat me like crap.
Pulling himself together before he said something he'd really regret, he replied using the only ammunition he had left to make Charlie see how bad his behaviour had become. "Fine. You're so damned good at taking care of yourself? Here's your sandwich. I'd imagine it's the first food you've seen in three days."
Don tossed the sandwich onto a small table by the door and left before the fight progressed so far he couldn't undo the damage.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
The FBI office was quiet for once, allowing Don the opportunity to speak with Mrs. Culverson, the mother of the girl that had been kidnapped. In order to type up his final report and satisfy Merrick, he'd needed her to clarify a few things.
"And how much time had passed before you realized your daughter was missing?"
"It was only a few minutes. I don't usually talk on my cell phone, but my husband needed to discuss something with me. I was distracted for such a short period of time."
"The man that took her. You hadn't seen him anywhere before?"
Don patiently listened to all her answers, jotting down notes at the appropriate times. Glancing up, he saw the familiar slight figure of his brother limping down the hall, cane in hand. He groaned inwardly, figuring with Charlie's mood he'd come to argue about something. The last thing he needed right now was a fight with Charlie. Especially in front of his colleagues and Mrs. Culverson. Of course, Charlie continued right on over and interrupted his interview.
"Uh, Don? Could I speak to you for a minute?" he quietly asked, only glancing at Mrs. Culverson.
Don glared at Charlie, before smiling apologetically at the woman he'd been interviewing and took Charlie off to the side.
"Charlie, what the hell are you doing here?"
"I came to ask you something," he replied, looking everywhere but at Don.
When no further explanation was put forth, Don prodded him on. "Yeah? And?"
"Well, Dad's gonna be out tonight, and I wanted to know if you could stop by the house after dinner so I could speak with you about yesterday."
"Charlie, you came all the way down here to ask me this? How did you get here?" Don's curiosity was piqued. The last thing he ever expected after the fight yesterday was an open invitation to talk. Neither he nor Charlie were good when it came to communicating their feelings. In fact, he avoided talking about them or deflected emotionally charged conversations with a joke. If Charlie wanted to talk, it must be important and he wasn't going to turn it down.
"Dad drove me. He needed to pick up a few things before his trip and I convinced him to stop by. Well?"
Before Don could answer, they were interrupted by Mrs. Culverson.
"Excuse me," she said, walking over to them. "Did you say his name was Charlie? Is this Charlie Eppes?"
Don's eyes widened. With Charlie's mood as of late, he could only hope his brother wouldn't say anything stupid. "That's right. Diane Culverson, this is my brother Charlie. Charlie, this is Diane Culverson. She's the mother of the girl you saved."
Charlie smiled, unsure of what to say. In all his dealings with people, he'd never encountered a situation quite like this before and didn't know what he was supposed to say, or what this lady wanted to hear. This was Don's area, not his.
"I was hoping I'd get the chance to meet you in person, Charlie. There's no way I could ever adequately express my gratitude for what you did. It is the single most selfless act anyone could perform, and because of you, my little girl is with us today. Thank you." Diane finished thanking Charlie by giving him a gentle hug.
Feeling even more awkward, Charlie simply hugged her back and asked the first question to come to mind. "How's your daughter doing?"
"She's slowly coming to terms with what happened. It'll take time, though."
Noticing his brother's stiff posture and sensing his discomfort, Don intervened. "Mrs. Culverson, if you could excuse us for a few minutes? I'll be right with you."
She gave Charlie one last smile before going back to her seat, and he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Diane's words had felt good. Really good.
"I think I'm starting to understand why you like your job so much. You really do make a difference in people's lives, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do, Charlie. Listen, I've got to get back. I'll see you tonight, all right?" he said, giving Charlie a quick pat on the back.
"Yeah, sure." Charlie gave him a small smile before leaving.
Don watched Charlie go, a puzzled expression on his face. Would the real Charlie Eppes please step forward, he thought to himself. He had been expecting a lot of things from Charlie, but a smile wasn't one of them. Perhaps things weren't as bad as he was assuming.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Charlie felt good about himself. He'd never had a thank you as heartfelt and deep as Mrs. Culverson had given him. Given what he knew now, if he could go back to the day of his injury, he'd do it over again. Sure, he made a difference in people's lives everyday while teaching, but knowing that he'd been responsible for saving a life when he had almost been killed himself went far and beyond anything he'd ever felt before.
Sitting in the kitchen listening to the crickets outside, he marveled at how lonely the house felt with his father away. He contemplated what to have for dinner , but minutes later decided not to eat as his stomach still wasn't very agreeable to the idea of food. Instead, he sat deep in thought, cataloguing and analyzing the things he'd been experiencing.
It was almost like he had a really bad version of the flu. He had chills and shakes, nausea, muscle aches, even a runny nose. The only thing that didn't fit was the lack of a fever, and the moodiness. He knew his behaviour was wrong, but he couldn't help it. The smallest things would cause him to snap, and he couldn't do a thing about it. Maybe it's just the pain, he thought to himself. Frustration. It all started when-
His line of thought was interrupted by the shrill ring of the phone. Lacking the motivation to answer it, he let the machine get it. He wasn't really surprised when Don's grainy voice emerged from the speaker; just disappointed.
"Hey, Charlie, you there? All right, I guess you're just away from the phone. Listen, Buddy, something's come up and I'm gonna have to pull an all nighter. I'm really sorry about this. I'll call you tomorrow."
Charlie sighed. He should have expected that. Not that he was too upset; he wasn't really looking forward to the conversation.
Going back to his previous train of thought, Charlie realized all his symptoms had started right after his doctor had pulled the Percocet prescription. Without the drug, he was no longer able to focus long enough to do his math, or teach. His mood had been all over the place, and he could feel his relationships with family and friends starting to break under the pressure. Then there were the physical problems. In other words, he was no longer able to function in his world.
He knew what he had to do. It was the only thing that made sense.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
TBC
Please tell me what you thought.