"How is Don doing?" Larry inquired as he bent over to study a small art sculpture on Charlie's desk.
"He's getting better," Charlie informed him. "His burns haven't gotten infected, which was one of our major concerns." Charlie paused his writing on the chalkboard. He continued to stare at the board, his hand frozen in mid-air, as he continued. "Tomorrow is his follow-up with the ophthalmologist. We'll find out if it's..." Charlie couldn't bring himself to say the word, as if saying it would make it true. He swallowed nervously and resumed writing on the board.
"Permanent?" Larry offered. Charlie whipped his head around to glare at his mentor. "I am simply suggesting that you need to accept the possibility that this condition may, in fact, be permanent."
"Accept that my brother may be blind for the rest of his life?" Charlie angrily hissed. "I don't have to accept anything of the sort!"
Larry stood and threw his hands up in defense, trying to diffuse his friend's anger.
"I'm sorry, Larry," Charlie sighed as he wearily collapsed into his chair. "You're right. I do need to accept the possibility." Charlie put a strong emphasis on the last word. "And I've tried to do that. I've read every book on this type of injury and every book on how to cope with blindness. Anything that can help me to help Don. But..." Charlie's anguished voice trailed off.
"You have found nothing that helps you with the guilt."
Charlie nodded. "It's my fault. Don says it's not, but it is, Larry." Charlie fixed Larry with a sad gaze. "He wouldn't have been there to be injured if it wasn't for me."
"Why were you there?"
"I needed more data," Charlie whispered. "I was trying to improve my equation so they could stop the arsonist before he hurt someone. Ironic, huh?"
"Agent Reeves told me that they did apprehend the suspect."
Charlie couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. "Did she now? Was this during another lunch date?"
"Charles," Larry playfully scolded as he wagged his finger at his young friend. "That's private information."
"Yeah, sure it is," Charlie teased his colleague. He shook his head as he grew serious again. "David told me they caught him because the woman who called 911 had seen someone fleeing the scene. She was able to give the FBI a really good description."
"Which Agent Reeves said they used to match against the suspects your equation had identified. So it appears that your help was very valuable to this case."
"But at what cost?" Charlie asked in a small voice.
"Knowing Don as I do, I am fairly certain that he is happy with the outcome of this case, even though he was injured. You helped him to save countless people from being hurt or killed."
"Yeah, Larry. I'm sure Don is thrilled about being blind."
"You are deliberately twisting my words, Charles." Larry fixed Charlie with a stern look until he had the decency to look contrite. "I would suggest that you further discuss this issue with Don."
Charlie nodded at Larry's advice. "I know. I will, but not yet. He's got too much on his mind with the appointment tomorrow. It's not fair for me to burden him with anything else right now."
"I don't think this will be a burden to him. Quite the opposite in fact, I believe you will both find that the sooner you discuss it, the sooner you will both feel relieved. Do it today." His former student started to open his mouth, but Larry cut him off. "Today, Charles."
"Okay," Charlie agreed meekly. "Today."
--
"You don't have to do this, you know," Alan Eppes informed his oldest son.
"You cooked," Don replied as he felt for the trash can. "I clean. That's the way it's always been." Upon finding the trash can, he tapped the plate against the side until he was sure it was empty.
"You do a better job of that when you can't see the plate," Alan muttered jokingly.
Don grinned slightly as he slowly shuffled toward the sink.
"I mean it, Donnie, you don't have to do that. I can do it, or I can have Charlie do it when he gets home."
"You and Charlie do enough, Dad. I need to start pulling my weight around here." Don set the plate in the sink and wondered how in the world he would be able to wash the dishes with only one hand.
"Sometimes I wish you weren't so independent."
Don froze at his father's words, his good hand hovering in mid-air over the sink. "Yeah, well I kind of had to be."
Don's statement wasn't an accusation, but Alan found that the words still stung. "I still regret that."
"Why?" Don shrugged. "Charlie turned out great, and I turned out pretty good."
"Because your mother and I robbed you of your childhood. You had to grow up pretty fast. That's not fair to ask of any child."
"It was fine. I understood. Charlie was special, so he needed special attention. Besides, being independent has made me who I am."
"A highly motivated FBI agent, who faces the worst horrors the world has to offer, and is still able to show compassion to a victim." Alan paused a moment to let the compliment sink in before continuing. "But you can't seem to accept anybody's help, not even that of your concerned family."
Don turned his head in his father's direction. Alan wished his son's eyes weren't bandaged, so he could see what affect, if any, his words had on Don. After a moment, Don sighed and lowered his head toward the floor.
"I'm scared." It was the softest of whispers, spoken as a little boy would speak to his father- a little boy who was opening up and letting his guard down, seeking comfort from his father.
"About tomorrow." Alan gently prodded.
Don nodded. "What if the doctor says it's permanent?"
"You need to think positive."
Don lifted his head in his father's direction. "I know, but that little voice in the back of my mind keeps saying 'what if'."
Alan moved to his son and placed his hands on Don's shoulders. "Donnie, I want you to listen very carefully to me. You will be okay tomorrow, no matter what the doctor says, because you have all the support that Charlie and I, and all of your friends, have to offer. Whether it's good or bad news tomorrow, I promise you that we'll get through it together, okay?"
Don mutely nodded before surprising his father with a fierce hug. Alan was momentarily caught off-guard by his son's embrace, but quickly returned it with equal intensity. As he held his son in his embrace, Alan smiled to himself. Maybe, just maybe, he could finally start making up for the attention Don had missed as a child.
After a moment, they were interrupted by the back door opening.
"Hello?" Charlie called out as he entered the kitchen.
Don had quickly pulled out of his father's embrace, not wanting his little brother to see him in such a vulnerable state. Charlie had already seen his brother and father hugging, and raised a questioning eyebrow to his father. Alan shook his head and tilted his head toward Don, who was leaning against the counter top, trying to compose himself.
"Don and I have decided that it's your turn to do the dishes," Alan teased his youngest son, gesturing that he should play along.
'Ah,' Charlie silently mouthed to his father. "But I didn't even eat dinner," he protested aloud.
Don was pretty sure Charlie had seen him hugging their father, and that this was Alan's way of lightening the mood. "Consider it payback for all those times I got stuck with it," Don chipped in, using his best big brother voice.
"Yeah, well you're going to owe me big time," Charlie said. He smiled at his brother as he patted his shoulder. "And believe me, I'll be collecting on that."
TBC