A/N: My thanks to QofC - this challenge has truly awoken my muse.
Chapter 4:
Don knocked tentatively on the garage door. "Charlie?" The lack of response piqued his curiosity - he knew his brother was inside. Pushing the door open slowly, he poked his head through the opening and called again. "Charlie?"
Charlie looked up from where he was resting on the couch, one arm flung over his eyes. "Hey Don," he acknowledged.
Don stepped through the doorway and approached his brother, taking a seat at the end of the couch where Charlie's feet rested. "How are you doing, buddy?" he asked.
Charlie swung his feet off of the cushions and hauled himself upright. "I'm okay Don. Please stop treating me like damaged goods."
"Sorry. It's just... I never know what to expect, y'know?"
Nodding, Charlie agreed. "Yeah, I know. Don't sweat it."
An uncomfortable silence fell between them as Don pondered what to say next, and Charlie waited for the question he knew Don would eventually ask.
"Don..." "Charlie..." They spoke simultaneously and then broke off, laughing.
"This shouldn't be so hard to deal with," Charlie said, when the laughter died down.
Don looked at him, puzzled. "Why not?"
Shrugging, the young mathematician replied, "Why not what? How hard could it be? Cassandra wanted me to take care of her little girl..."
"And put your own life on the back burner," Don cut in. "Yeah. No problem. Never mind what you had planned, what you wanted to do."
Charlie turned to face his brother. "Don," he began gently. "This isn't about me anymore. Someone else's well-being is a stake now, too." He shook his head, picking at the cushion under his knee. "How can I just send that little girl back on a plane to strangers?"
Don leaned across and placed a hand on his brother's knee. "And just what are you, Charlie?"
Lifting his head, Charlie stared directly into his brother's eyes. "Maybe I didn't know Cassandra that well, Don. Maybe I know Emma not at all. But I have an obligation to do the best I can, and that little girl has a right to be somewhere where she can be loved." He dropped his head, allowing the curls to curtain his face. "Even though..." His voice trailed off into silence.
"'Though'?" Don pressed.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie lifted his chin defiantly and continued. "Even though I may not be very good at it." Seeing the huge grin spreading across Don's face, he asked irritably, "What's so funny about that?"
"You, Charlie." Don lifted his hand and brought it down on his brother's shoulder, giving him a gentle shake as he did so. "If anyone around here is capable of tackling an unknown quantity with unbelievable success, it's you."
Charlie shook his head. "I don't know about that, Don."
Don stood and offered Charlie a hand up. "I do. And apparently so did Cassandra." Wrapping his arm around his younger brother's shoulders, he gave a small squeeze as he steered Charlie toward the door. "Come on," he added. "You have someone to meet, I think."
"Yeah. I guess I do."
-x-x-x-x-x-
Alan looked up from what he was doing as his two sons entered from the garage. "I see you brought him back alive," he remarked to Don, his voice not betraying the anxiety he felt.
"Yep," Don replied, dropping his arm from Charlie's shoulder. "He's made a decision." He stood to one side, allowing Charlie center stage. Alan waited.
"Yeah, um..." Charlie began. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking. "I think I should at least meet Emma, spend some time with her, before I say I won't or can't do this." He lifted his eyes to his father's face, hoping for some hint of what the older man was thinking, but Alan's expression was unreadable. His voice barely above a whisper, Charlie continued, "I owe Cassandra and her daughter that much, at least."
Alan smiled warmly at his youngest son. "I'm very proud of you, Charlie," he said. Noting the look of confusion, he explained. "This isn't an easy decision to make, even if you had gone about it the traditional way. It's a big responsibility. And you're handling it very well."
"I am?"
Alan nodded. "You didn't jump up and say 'no', but you didn't fall over yourself saying 'yes', either. That takes a lot of maturity - a lot of guts." He stepped forward and placed his hands on Charlie's shoulders. "I'm proud of you, son." He pulled Charlie into a firm hug. "Good for you," he whispered.
Charlie stared at Don over his father's shoulder in confusion. His brother merely grinned and shrugged. Once Alan let go Charlie asked, "So where is she?"
Don pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. "I'll tell you in a minute," he answered, dialing.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Megan watched as Emma taught Colby the finer points of coloring. They were seated at the long table in the conference room, crayons and paper spread all around them. She smiled when the little girl shook her head vehemently at something Colby just said.
"What are they doing?" David asked from behind her.
Leaning back in her chair, Megan replied, "I think they're having an argument."
David pulled up another chair and sat. "About what?"
"Beats me." Megan folded her arms and watched as Emma picked up a green crayon and all but shoved it in the big agent's face. "Looks like she's winning, though." Colby took the crayon and began using it, stealing glances at the little girl out of the corner of his eye. Emma had a blue crayon clenched in her tiny fist, and was slowly and studiously coloring her own picture. Lifting his head, Colby caught the two of them staring and grinned. A sharp comment from Emma and he ducked his head again, the dutiful companion.
Megan and David exchanged broad smiles. "I think she's pretty bright, you know," she observed.
David nodded, opening the file in his hands. "Probably," he replied. "Her mother was a scientist."
"Yeah. But not like Charlie though - she's not what you'd call brilliant, just... bright."
"What do people always describe levels of intelligence with references to light?" David mused.
"Because to some people seeing high levels of intelligence is like staring into a source of light." Charlie came around the corner of Megan's cubicle, closely followed by his father and brother.
"Hey, Charlie," Megan greeted him. David added, "How are you, man?"
Nodding, Charlie replied, "Fine, thanks. Did... did Don fill you guys in?"
"Not really," Megan answered, casting a dark look at Don over Charlie's shoulder. Don put his hands up in a gesture of defence. "Hey! It wasn't my place to say anything!" he protested.
"No, it was mine." Charlie pulled up another chair and sat beside Megan. "A woman I knew died last week in an automobile accident," he explained without preamble. "In her will, she made me legal guardian of her daughter."
Megan glanced at David, who looked as shocked as she felt. Leaning forward, she asked, "And how're you taking all this?"
Charlie barked in mirthless laughter. "How do you think I'm taking it? Weren't you playing babysitter all day until I could get my head wrapped around it?"
"We didn't know why, Charlie," David cut in. "All we knew was you needed a hand."
Charlie hung his head. "I know," he said apologetically. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
Megan patted his cheek. "Don't worry about it," she said. "David, Colby and I are glad we could help."
Don spoke up. "Where is Colby anyway?"
David grinned broadly and pointed. "Doing as he's told, for once." The five them watched as Emma once again scolded Colby, taking away his green crayon and replacing it with a red one.
Charlie gasped. "She looks like Cassandra." He rose slowly from his seat and took a few steps toward the conference room window. He stood watching and then suddenly whirled around, a look of panic on his face. "I can't do this!" he cried softly.
Alan stepped around the others and quickly strode to his youngest son's side. Grabbing him by the upper arms, he looked Charlie directly in the eye and said, "You told me you had to at least see her before you decided." He gave Charlie a little shake and asked, "You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" Charlie shook his head mutely. "Good." Alan let his hands drop. "Because you can do this, Charles Edward Eppes, and you know it."
Charlie stood a bit taller. "Yes," he replied decisively. "I can." He turned and made his way to the conference room door, tapping lightly on the wood before entering.
They watched as Colby stood and shook Charlie's hand, offering him his seat. Charlie accepted, and Colby spoke to Emma briefly before leaving.
"Man, I wouldn't want to be in the professor's shoes right now," David commented. Alan and Colby joined the small group. Don said, "Guys, I really don't think it'd be a good idea for them to look out here and find us all standing around, staring at them." He indicated that they should follow him. "Let's go grab a coffee or something."
-x-x-x-x-x-
Charlie watched the group depart, noting his brother's hand signal that they would return in ten minutes. Turning to Emma, he said, "Hi there."
"Hello." The crayon never stopped moving.
He tried again. "Do you know who I am?"
"Colby said your name was Charlie," she replied, nodding. "You're part of my army."
Charlie stammered in surprise. "Y-Your... your army?" he asked.
She nodded again, switching to a yellow crayon. "Colby said I had an army of people to keep me safe," she explained. "He said there was him, and David, and Megan, and Don, and Charlie, and daddy."
"Daddy?" Charlie echoed stupidly. Way to go, he mentally chastised himself. Get a grip, Eppes!
She sighed heavily and put down her crayon. "Your daddy," she said in exasperation. "Don's daddy. Colby said so." Picking up another, she resumed coloring. "Colby's a teddy bear," she added after a moment.
"He is, huh?" Charlie picked up a brown crayon and began coloring a tree trunk. "I thought he was a big, tough FBI agent."
"Nup," Emma disagreed. "He looks big, but he's a teddy bear. Melvin knows."
"Who's Melvin?"
Emma regarded him with a green glare. "Don't you know anything?" she asked imperiously. "Melvin's the duck. In the pond at the park."
Charlie smiled. "I guess I must look pretty dumb, huh?"
Studying him carefully, Emma replied, "No."
"I don't look pretty dumb?"
She shook her head and went back to her picture. "You look nice."
Charlie knew he was grinning foolishly, but he didn't care. "Do you really think so?" he asked. At her nod, he added, "What do nice people look like, then?"
Cocking her head to one side, Emma considered. "We-ell," she drawled. "Like you. And Colby, and..." she shrugged. "Like my army."
"I dunno," Charlie replied. "You haven't met them all yet. How do you know Don looks as nice as the rest of the army?"
"He will," she said firmly. "I know."
Charlie laughed and Emma looked up, puzzled. "What's funny?"
"Nothing," Charlie answered. "Just something I thought of. Don't worry." He sobered a bit. Lowering his voice, he said, "Emma." She set down the crayon and looked at him directly, waiting for him to continue. "Do you... Did anyone tell you about me? I mean, before today?" She nodded. "Who told you about me, Emma?"
"Mr. Wain-something. He was mummy's so-li-ci-tor." She pronounced the word carefully.
"Anyone else?" Charlie pressed. "Did Cass- did your mother ever mention me?"
The little girl seemed to be thinking hard. Finally she nodded. "She did," she replied.
Charlie fought to control his surprise. "What did she say, do you remember?"
Again the little nod. "She was drawing on a paper. She said because my daddy went to heaven, she had to say who would look after me if she went, too." She stared down at the tabletop. "Mummy went to heaven," she added sorrowfully.
Charlie reached out tentatively and set his hand on her small shoulder. "I know, Emma. I'm sorry," he said. "My mummy went to heaven too."
Emma lifted her gaze and regarded him seriously, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. "My mummy went to heaven, and I didn't kiss her goodbye." Her small chin wobbled at the effort of keeping the tears at bay.
Charlie felt his own eyes begin to sting. "Neither did I, Emma," he whispered.
Suddenly a pair of small arms flung around Charlie's neck. He instinctively enveloped the little body in a fierce hug and began rocking her as she cried. "Shhh," he soothed, rubbing her back with his hand. "It's okay, Emma. Go ahead and cry. It's alright." They sat that way for a long time, Charlie alternately rubbing her back and smoothing her hair, rocking incessantly and holding her tight as sobs wracked her small body. He knew tears were coursing down his cheeks, but he didn't wipe them away. They felt good.