Chapter 40

The next day when Charlie woke up his dad informed him that Don had already left. Derek had picked him up early.

Before he ate breakfast Charlie went to the gym. He needed to clear his mind and start fresh so he could think. He had some important things to think about.

Dr. Eppes met with Vic and then worked on the program. Early afternoon he went to see Bob. When he walked in Diane again ran from her seat to give him a hug. "Charlie, thank goodness you're okay. Sounds like it was a close call. I had no idea what exactly was going on. The Director was pretty closed mouth about it. He gave me an emergency number and that was all."

"It was a close call but I'm fine. I know Bob lost a good agent though."

"Yes, Jason. His family is having a memorial service for him Sunday afternoon. Bob and I will both be there, but since he was a covert agent he was not well known around here."

I'll have to take my dad to the airport on Sunday but I will try to get there too."

After Diane gave him the location of the service she asked if Don was leaving Sunday too.

"No, he's decided to stay here while he is still on desk duty."

"That must mean that you and he are getting along. That's good news Charlie. Well you will just have to bring him along. Kylie's birthday party is next Saturday. It'll be at my house and I would love it if you can attend."

"I wouldn't miss it."

Before he left Charlie stopped into for a conversation with Bob.

When he got to the apartment, it was quiet. No sign of either his dad or brother. He took the bag he had with him and tossed it into his closet and changed to his sweat pants.

After he returned from the gym he found that Don had ordered pizza and his dad had apparently just gotten back from his sightseeing.

Don told him that he was going to talk Alan into a trip down to that bar on the next block. He had not told his dad that he was staying and thought it may be better over a drink or two.

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Saturday morning Charlie woke Don up. "Don wake up." He tossed jeans, a t-shirt and socks on the nearby chair.

"Come on get up, the day's wasting."

"Buddy, I had thought to sleep in today. I was up too early yesterday. Come back and try again in an hour."

"Dad's making pancakes Don. You love pancakes."

"I'd rather sleep in and toss a few in the microwave in an hour." The words were barely out of his mouth before Charlie could hear the breathing indicating that his brother was already asleep again.

Charlie went to the kitchen for a coffee cup. He decided that he was not stupid enough to use cold refrigerated water but lukewarm from the faucet would do the job nicely.

Don came up sputtering and Charlie wasn't sure but that sounded like a few words that Charlie had never heard come out of Don's mouth when their father was within hearing distance.

Charlie was now standing a good six feet from the air mattress. "Ready for those pancakes now?"

Don was out from under the soggy blanket so fast that Charlie barely had time to run. He ran in the kitchen and hid behind his dad. "Dad, Don's in a big hurry to get to those pancakes. Hope you made a lot."

Alan was facing Don and Charlie was hiding. Alan could already tell exactly what had just happened and he decided that he would calm the situation before anything got broken, like another finger or some teeth.

"Good morning Don. You do look hungry. Charlie requested that I make your favorite breakfast for you this morning. Pretty nice brother you have there don't you think?"

"Oh yeah Dad, a real winner." The look he glared at Charlie let him know in no uncertain terms he would pay for this one. Don tried to shake the water of his ear.

Alan was making good headway calming his oldest son down until he went too far. "You know Donnie, I like your hair that way," while Don was still trying to get it out of his face. And the big mistake topper was that Charlie found that amusing. Alan knew he couldn't save Charlie this time. He decided it was better to stay out of it and turned back to the stove.

Charlie was trapped and the only way out was past Don. His quick thinking nearly saved him. He faked right and then Charlie went low left, past Don who, after all only had one good hand and it was on the other side of his body. He made it all the way to the bathroom. When he tried to close and lock the door his brother put all of his body weight into stopping that action. He pushed the door open and before Charlie really even knew how it happened he was standing in the shower with cold water pouring down on him.

Charlie reached down to turn the water off and grabbed for a towel. "You know I already had a shower this morning."

"Bet you'll think twice before you try to kill me by drowning again."

Charlie had the towel over his head and he was drying his hair while still standing in the tub with wet soggy clothes. "Next time I'm using refrigerated water."

Don reached down and turned the water back on. "Wrong answer Buddy." He stepped back when a wet towel came flying in his direction. "I'm ready for those pancakes now." Don left the room laughing.

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Charlie knew he would have a fight on his hands but he did not expect the panic that he saw in Don's face when he pulled into the parking lot of the government baseball field.

"Charlie, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"We're just here to talk."

"No, we are leaving. There is no way I am getting out and with your luck the ball would probably find you even sitting in the car. Let's go."

"Don, I can promise you that I'm not cruel enough to bring you here if there was a game starting. The first game on this field today is 11 o'clock. I brought you here so we can talk about this. You have to face your demons Don, but sometimes head on is not the best way. Baseball was your life for a long time. You have to get past this."

Don closed his eyes and started taking short deep breaths. Charlie knew the signs; his brother was headed for a panic attack if he did not do something.

"Listen Bro. I've learned something in the past two weeks. You can't run and you can't hide. The problem will always be there until you learn to deal with it and put it behind you." His brother did not acknowledge any of it." Don, please get out of the car. I want to show you something. Just try. If you try and you can't do this we can come back another time, but I'm asking that you please at least make an attempt here. It would mean a lot to me if you will let me help you."

Don thought he was going to throw up and he did open the door but he did not get out of the seat. He needed air. Charlie got out and went to stoop down near Don's door.

"That's a start. Hey bro?"

Don looked at Charlie.

"Tell me about the nightmares. Tell me what the worst part is so that we can start there."

Don took a deep breath and let it out. If he couldn't tell his brother who else could he tell?

Charlie was afraid he wasn't going to answer.

"Death Charlie; Yours. Bloody gory death most of the time. I see the ball and it is always headed for you, no matter where I am in the dream, no matter where you are in the dream. It is always headed right for your throat. I can't save you. I can never save you." Don had sounded almost like he was in a trance.

"But you did Don. You did save me."

"But that wasn't until the very last second. I couldn't make my hand move any sooner. If I had, the ball would never have gotten that close to you. If I had reacted just one second earlier, it would have hit my hand and bounced off. I probably would still have at least one broken finger but you wouldn't have been touched at all. I might have saved your life with the movement Charlie, but I didn't save you."

"So, Don, let me see if I have this right. The ball is hit into the stands. It is heading toward me. Me, who is at a baseball game and not actually even watching the game, you just happened to be paying a bit more attention and stop that ball from killing me. So, it's not the batter's fault, he made a poor judgment when he hit the ball. It's not my fault for not paying attention. But you who happened to be doing a much better job of paying attention and stopped the ball, think that my getting injured is all your fault. Is that right?"

"Charlie, I already told you that I know it was an accident. That ball coming into the stands was not anyone's fault. You had things on your mind, not your fault. But I did see the ball. I did see where it was going and I did know it would hit you if I didn't stop it. It is my fault that you got hurt. Better hurt than dead Buddy. But I did fail you. FBI training teaches you that your reflexes can mean the difference between life and death. Every time a dangerous situation comes around, I have to rely on my reflexes. If they fail, people can die. I could die or I could have let you die. I depend on those reflexes. And they failed me. And I failed you."

"Don, isn't the fact that you didn't let that ball hit me the most important thing, the only one that really matters?"

"What about all that pain you had? The way I see the situation, I had to make an instant decision. I had no time to think them over. First choice, do nothing. You die. Second choice, wait until the last second and save your life but cause some facial injuries. Third choice, stop that ball sooner and you're not touched. Whether you know it or not, I let you down, my reflexes failed me and I was forced into a bad choice."

A thought occurred to Charlie. This was probably not the best time to ask this, but he knew he had to have an answer now. If he didn't he would constantly wonder. "I want you to look me in the eye and tell me something. Was this whole last week about another guilt trip you were on? Was the time you spent helping me when I was sick all because you felt responsible?"

Don looked at Charlie when he responded. He did not even have to think about it. "No, that was not a guilt trip that was my little brother in pain. I needed to be there for you but it was not guilt."

Charlie relaxed. Now, they could deal with the real issue. "How often do you have these nightmares?"

"Just about every time I sleep. Occasionally more than once a night."

"What are the things that all of the nightmares have in common?"

"Bat, ball, your throat and me not being able to save you."

"What about people? Are there other people?"

"Sometimes, sometimes the stands are full, sometimes you're the only one in the stands."

"You're not always next to me?"

"No; But I usually start out there."

"Do I say anything in any of them?"

Don couldn't say it. He tried but it would not come out.

"What Don? I can't hear you. What do I say?"

He heard him clearly the next time. "You turned on me Don!"

Charlie felt like he had just been punched in the stomach. The blood left his face. What?" It was just barely about a whisper. A shocked whisper.

"You say that in almost all of them. When I couldn't save you, you say, you turned on me Don. I keep hearing that Charlie. It won't leave me alone at night. Even if I don't have the dream. I keep hearing it."

"Oh My G--," Charlie leaned his head down on his arms that were supported on his knees. "I did this. I brought those nightmares on." Charlie got up and ran nearby to just under the stands and he threw up. 'I did this.' Charlie felt trapped. He couldn't breathe. 'I did this.' How could he help Don when he was the very one that had caused the nightmares? Don was not just having bad dreams about what could have happened. He was mixing in Charlie's own words from the conversation just prior to the accident.

Those dreams had to be tearing Don up. A protector by nature, a protector most of Charlie's life and he not only saw Charlie's death but heard his brother blame him for it over and over again.

This was too far over Charlie's head. This wasn't just about working up the courage to walk back into a baseball game. He couldn't help Don. He'd let go of his own hurt but he'd dumped a ton of it back on his brother. He couldn't fix this. 'Run, I need to run.' He could feel his own panic now. 'Can't lose it here. This is about Don's demons and if I lose it, it will not help anything. One lap and I can calm a little at least enough to drive us out of here.'