Chapter Two
Don sat staring at the far wall. He willed the white wash to keep still, willed the window on the left side to not move. Willed the door to stay straight.
His fingers gripped the bars of the bed so tightly his knuckles had long since forgotten what it was to have colour. Beads of sweat ran down his pounding head. The noise of their journey adding to the ringing in his ears. For someone with impaired hearing the slightest noise was doing a number in his brain.
He needed to blink.
Had needed to for a few minutes now.
Don steeled himself , took a breath and allowed his eyes to close briefly .Then he held on and waited for the world to right itself. The second his eyes had begun to close the walls had melded with the window in a strange homage to Salvador Dali. As the rollercoaster continued Don prayed he wouldn't be sick again. The embarrassment of before was still fresh in his mind. A nurse holding him upright while he threw up over her shoulder into the waiting bowl held by another nurse. Both had been sympathetic but that hadn't helped the red flush that had crept up Don's neck and engulfed his face. He'd thrown up every dinner he'd ever had and then some. All because some stupid, thorough, anal retentive Doctor had been concerned about his equilibrium. So what if he couldn't stand and hold his hands out straight with his eyes closed, when the hell had he ever needed that skill ? Not once, not ever had an instructor at Quantico insisted that he, Don Eppes, close his eyes and hold his arms out.
He'd be damned if he was doing it again. Don didn't think there was anything left in his stomach to throw up but he certainly wasn't taking the risk. If any damn Doctor asked him to do that again he was going to floor them with one well placed punch to the nose.
Hopefully before he plunged downward.
Vertigo.
As if concussion and bruises in places he didn't remember hitting weren't enough. He now had to contend with ruptured ear drums, which considering that was supposed to hinder his hearing, so far wasn't blocking out the incessant ringing which he was having to contend with. No, on top of that he'd developed Vertigo. All because he was going to the door first.
The only good thing , Don decided, was that he wouldn't be able to hear his fathers lecture.
He chuckled.
Then clung on for dear life as the room lurched to the left.
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Once they were sure Don was going to be ok David had taken Megan and Colby home. Megan, as much as she didn't want to admit it, was craving the comfort of her bed. This FBI Agent was planning a long hot shower followed by the lay in to end all lay ins.
Charlie walked behind Alan as they entered Don's room. He was being kept overnight just as a precaution. According to the nurse Don had already put up a heroic, yet futile effort to be discharged that day. She'd remarked how his argument had almost won them over. Had it not been for the fact that Don had to grab the bed rail every other word and couldn't hold the gaze of either Doctor or Nurse without his head falling to the side and the colour draining from his face to his feet.
Alan assured the nurse that Don would be no further bother to her. He would be sure of it, even if he had to put his son over his knee that boy would be staying put until the Doctors set him free.
Charlie peaked around Alan and took in his older brothers appearance. He was pale, with beads of sweat bouncing the light from his face. His eyes were squeezed tightly closed and his hands were wrapped around the right bed rail. Lying on his side Don looked like he could fall from the bed at any second. His face was bruised and just by the hairline of his left ear the stitches from the explosion stood out fiercely against his ghostly complexion.
Charlie closed his eyes against the image of what could have been, he breathed deep and reopened his eyes , watching from the foot of the bed as Alan approached Don.
Their presence had gone unnoticed until Alan laid his hand on Don's arm causing him to jump suddenly and grab a tighter hold to the bed rail while the room resumed it's spinning.
Don attempted a smile but quickly closed his eyes. He could tell from his fathers face his attempt at a grin had fallen far short. Alan pulled Don's fingers away from the rail. Don's frown told Charlie he didn't want to be seen holding his fathers hand, however his need to hold onto something solid overcame his embarrassment and he gripped his fathers hand with a strength that surprised them both.
"It's ok son. It's ok"
"Dad, Don can't hear you"
Alan raised his eyes to his youngest, confusion evident on his face until the penny dropped. Charlie cringed as Alan shouted, clearly startling Don.
"IT'S OK SON!"
Don held up his free hand, silencing his father.
"Dad I'm impaired, not deaf."
Charlie couldn't help but laugh. The noise full of relief which Don heard loud and clear.
"I'm ok buddy"
"Yeah, I know, no need to shout though" Laughed Charlie.
"I'm not shouting" Said Don very loudly.
Charlie walked forward and laid his hand on Don's knee.
"Ok bro, you're not shouting, but maybe don't talk so loud ok?"
Don glared at Charlie but found the effort tilted the room, and seeing how the spinning sensation was currently on a time out he didn't want to do anything to encourage it back too soon.
He focused back on his father whose hand he still had in a death grip.
"So, we going home now?"
"Nice try Donnie. You're here for the night, and then my boy.."
"Home with you and Charlie, yeah I know"
"Well in that case I don't expect any whining"
Don looked at his father with his best hurt expression, which, considering that the time out was over and the room was currently seesawing at a 180 degree rocking motion, he managed quite well.
"I don't whine"
Alan smiled and Charlie squeezed his knee.
"Yes bro, you most certainly do"
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"One more word Don Eppes and I'll ground you for a week. With no TV!"
Don had lasted only a few days without whining but being confined to the couch, having to be helped everywhere and made to take an assortment of medication was beginning to take it's toll.
"Dad, I'll be fine"
"No Donnie"
"Dad, come on"
"NO DONNIE!"
Larry stepped aside as Don tried to make his point. He'd popped in to see how the Agent was doing, dropping Charlie home in the process. Don's attempt at a straight line left a lot to be desired. Larry moved again from the curved path of the fiercely determined Agent.
He was seriously regretting his offer to drive Don around for an hour. It had seemed like a great idea. Charlie had been saying how bored Don had gotten in the week he'd been home. He'd managed the first few day's ok. The Doctor had said that his hearing would slowly grow in strength, the ear drums repairing themselves, and the Vertigo would dissipate in time. So far the Vertigo was relentlessly assaulting Don. Every movement caused a shift in the room to varying degrees.
He'd kept his eyes closed on the drive home, not through fear of Charlie's driving, although the younger Eppes had his suspicions, but because every turn caused his stomach to lurch. Which, along with his head spinning, wasn't helping his hospital lunch to stay put.
By the time they guided Don through the front door Alan had had to make a dash for a bowl while Charlie helped Don to sit on the floor as the nausea coursed through every fibre of his body. He rubbed his brothers back until Alan had arrived, Don tried to aim toward the bowl but his direction was severely hindered and as much as he tried to push Alan and Charlie away he found he needed their help and guidance. Once he began vomiting he clung to them both like roots to soil.
"Dad, I'll be an hour, and Charlie will be with me"
"Oh I will, will I?"
Don glared at his younger brother, but Charlie caught the pleading, begging look. It only crossed Don's eyes for a second, but that was a second enough to win the argument for Charlie.
He stepped forward and grabbed Don's arm as the older sibling was about to walk into the dining room table.
"Dad we'll be fine, back in a half hour"
Don started to correct Charlie but the sudden pressure on his arm told him to shut up.
"Half an hour and Larry will have Don and I back safely"
Larry moved to Don's other side as the Agent began to sway away from Charlie's support.
"Alan, I promise to have both back in half an hour. A couple of go's around the block and as Charles will no doubt tell you, at the speed I drive it's highly unlikely that anything negative will occur. The probability is so miniscule that I feel inclined to assure you everything will be fine."
Alan held his hand up in protest of the inevitable speech. He looked at the three men in front of him and rubbed his face. In that instant he knew he had lost. In that one gesture the three knew they had won.
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"You know Charles your brother here resembles an animal of the canine variety taking it's first drive. As a passenger of course"
Charlie laughed, he could see Don in the wing mirror, head leaning out of the window, eyes closed. Savouring the wind in his face. All he needed was the floppy ears and a bit more hair and he definitely would resemble a dog enjoying a drive.
"Larry?"
"Yes Don"
"I can hear better each day you know"
Charlie laughed again. They were making their third way around the block and with each turn Don's mood had lightened.
It had been a tough week on him. The first day home Don had been too tired to fend off any attention from either Charlie or Alan. He'd pretty much slept the second day but come the third Alan and Charlie had their hands full.
Charlie had woken a little after 7am, showered and made his way downstairs. He was trying to decide what best to make his family for breakfast. Thanks to the concussion Don had hardly eaten anything. The nausea seemed to assault him more often than the Vertigo. They'd been warned about the effects but watching his brother eating eggs so carefully and slowly had been painful for Charlie to watch. Helping his brother stay steady while he vomited, tears of strain falling down his cheeks had been almost too much to bear. He'd found his brother leaning against the wall in the dining room. He wasn't moving and as Charlie rounded him he could see Don's eyes squeezed tightly closed, he carefully laid his hand on his brothers arm.
"Hey Charlie"
"You ok bro?"
"Yeah."
"What you doing?"
"Falling"
"You're not falling bro" Charlie kept a firm hand on Don's arm, his other supporting his brothers back.
"Feels like it"
"Just breathe deep Don, it'll pass"
"Uh Huh?"
"Uh huh bro"
Charlie slowly rubbed Don's back, letting his brother know he was there for him, letting him know he was ok. Assuring himself that his brother was whole and still alive. Charlie shuddered as another vision of Don's mangled body assaulted his mind.
"You ok bro?"
"What? Don I'm fine, I think you'll find it's you with the problem"
How did he do that? Care about Charlie's well being when he was hanging onto the wall for dear life.
Don's breathing began to quicken and Charlie realised with alarm his brother was hyperventilating.
"It's ok bro, just try to calm down and breathe"
Ok now he was scared, his brother was pure muscle and if he passed out he was going to hit the floor hard. Hopefully not taking Charlie with him. Getting their father wasn't an option as Charlie didn't want to leave his brother's side.
"Ok bro, we're gonna sit down on the floor"
Don didn't answer but allowed Charlie to put his arm around his shoulders. He followed his brothers lead, feeling the strength from his brothers touch ground him, as Don opened his eyes he focused on Charlie's shoes. Everything was a blur, nothing else mattered except his bother's shoes, and damn were they dirty. He made a mental note to remind his brother to spend some of that well earned consultation fee on some new sneakers. Ones that were actually white and without frays.
Once seated on the floor Don allowed Charlie to slowly lower him onto his right side. Charlie kept his hand on Don's back, still gently rubbing while Don caught his breath. Beads of sweat had erupted on his brow and he still felt like he was a hundred miles up even though he could see the floor beyond his nose. Slowly the rest of the room came into focus. Along with the concerned look of his baby brother.
"It's passing"
"You sure bro?"
"Uh huh"
"Ok , just give it a few more minutes and we'll go sit on the couch."
"Outside"
"Outside?"
"Wanna sit outside"
Charlie smiled and rubbed his brother's shoulder. When Don wanted to do something there was nothing to keep him from his goal.
Charlie was determined to be there for him though. Every night since the explosion he'd awoken from nightmares in which he saw Don's limp, lifeless body fly through the air and land with a thud onto the sidewalk. Every night he relived his worst nightmare. His mind refused to ignore what could have been and throughout the day Charlie found his heart racing and palms sweating with each new thought of what could have been. He knew his father was feeling the same. Although he'd taken his fears out by mothering Don to such an extent the elder boy had lost his temper.
Don had been making his way to the garden, needing fresh air to help clear his battered senses. The garden was peaceful and seemed to be the only place which didn't move beneath his feet like an earthquake at maximum power. Maybe it was to do with being outside of the house, outside of the gaze of his family which helped. Either way Don was happy to sit there and enjoy the quiet. He found that if he walked slowly and carefully along the wall he could make it outside without a trip to the floor. After his first attempt at going outside which found him on the floor with Charlie guiding him through an attack Don had been determined to make it alone without another incident. Charlie had told Alan about the first attempt. What was it with younger brothers snitching on the older ones? Since then his father had taken to escorting him everywhere which, considering Don liked to spend time with his family on his terms, was beginning to take it's toll.
Evenings with the boys had always been great. Working with Charlie proved to be the saving of their relationship. But having to be watched 24/7 wasn't something Don was taking to well. He knew his father meant well, knew it was only because he cared, but with his eyes upon him all the time, boring into his soul , Don knew eventually Alan would see how scared he was at the thought of what could have been.
Don knew Charlie had his fears, heard him awaken every night with a shout. He didn't force the issue though, he let his brother fall back to sleep. Yet every morning he gave him a knowing smile and squeezed his shoulder before sitting down to breakfast. His way of assuring Charlie that he was fine. Big brother was still here. Alive and kicking for a long time yet. His father however was a different matter. When Don had reached the kitchen he felt the familiar shadow step behind him.
"I'm just going outside for a while" Don hadn't even bothered to turn.
"Well I'll sit with you for a bit"
"Dad I'm fine, carry on with what you were doing"
"It's ok Don, that can wait. We can do these puzzles together."
Don turned and looked at the soduku book his father held.
"You're trying that?"
"Charlie isn't the only one who can do the math my boy"
"Honestly Dad, I want to sit outside on my own for a bit"
"Don, you can barely walk without support. Let me help you outside"
"Dad please, I made it this far I can make it the rest of the way"
"Come on Don let me help" Alan walked passed his son and opened the back door.
Don stayed where he was in the kitchen. Anger at his situation, anger at the bomber, anger at his father's overprotection all bubbled over the surface in one avalanche of frustration.
"Dad I'm fine, leave me alone"
"Donnie?" Alan took a step toward his son, concern etched into his every feature.
"I'm fine, will you leave me alone for an hour. That's all I'm asking"
"Well I didn't realise I was annoying you so much Don. Is a father not allowed to help his son anymore?"
"It's not that" Don sighed. "I just need some time on my own."
"You're not going back to your apartment yet Don."
"That's not what I'm saying"
"I could have lost you, you could be dead right now Donnie , do you realise that?"
"Of course I do, you think I don't know how close we came? The people that were hurt because I ordered them to move in. You think I don't know the damage caused?"
"Donnie it wasn't your fault"
"I know that Dad. That still doesn't stop me feeling guilty"
"Lets go outside and talk son"
"No, I don't want to talk about this anymore ok?"
"You've barely spoken about it since we've been home"
"Drop it"
Don had growled the last two words. Alan looked at his son carefully, could see the emotion so close to the surface, could feel the tension coming off him in waves. He wanted to push the matter further, wanted to make Don let go enough to tell him his fears, tell him how he felt, but he was also scared to hear his son voice his terror. His strong, reliable, sturdy boy. His and Charlie's rock. The rock was crumbling but Alan saw no way in yet. He watched as Don's resolve doubled and his son's eyes hardened, signalling the end of the conversation. Alan sighed heavily. He was only trying to help. Maybe his approach was wrong. He so desperately wished Margaret was here, she'd know how to get around Don's defences. She always had. With a carefully placed word and a kind gesture she never failed to open him up.
God he missed her.
Don stood firm and refused to walk outside. Instead he turned carefully and headed back into the depths of the living room and the safety of the couch. He hated feeling this way towards his father , hated that he had become a burden. It wasn't supposed to be that way. After seeing his father having to take care of their mother, seeing him put his own needs way below that of his wife and sons Don had vowed to never allow his father that cross to bear again. He would take up the slack, he would carry the worry. Alan had worried enough for two lifetimes. It was his turn for peace, his turn for happiness. He shouldn't have to be looking after his son, he should be taking it easy and learning to live again without the pain of illness and injury. Don settled back on the couch and ignored his fathers concern in the only way he knew how. By ignoring the fact he needed help and by ignoring Alan for the better part of the day.
By evening he had hated himself for acting like such a child and had accepted dinner as graciously as he could. Alan had spoken of trivial things and Charlie had tried to ignore the obvious tension.
Since then things had been different. Alan had taken to leaving glasses of water in the living room, in the dining room and refilling the one in Don's bedroom as often as he could. If his boy was going to refuse help getting around then Alan was going to make sure he didn't need to move far.
He knew Don was onto him. But the grateful smile each time he reached for a glass told Alan all he needed to know. It was a battle of wills, and he came armed to the teeth. He also knew that Don didn't like to admit he needed help, but he'd take it when it was offered subtlety.
Alan had been in the kitchen, preparing dinner when he heard a voice call from the living room.
"Dad?"
"Yes Donnie"
"Erm…..Can you here a sec? Please?"
Alan had walked into the living room to find Don sprawled on the floor, clinging to the edges of the coffee table. He ran to his son's side but stopped short and stood over him, hands on hips.
"What is it Don?"
Don looked up at his father and tried to hide his surprise. He knew Alan had been waiting for this moment for two days now since their argument. This was a new tactic. Don tried to understand the new move but the floor was dipping and he felt he was riding the waves in the surf. Thoughts at that moment didn't stick so well to his brain. He sighed deeply. The only thought he understood right now was that he'd lost. He was going to have to say the words. He was going to have to say them out loud. And boy would they be loud. His hearing wasn't quite as muffled as before but he was still aware that everything he said was at volume.
Oh well. Here goes.
"I could use a little help here pops"
"Really?"
Oh he wasn't going to make this easy.
"Yeah, I er, kinda, er can't get up"
"And what do you want me to do about that Don?"
The lack of his father's nickname for him rang louder than the residual bomb ringing. Why couldn't it have been Charlie home when this happened? Although he'd caught his brother smirking at him numerous times as his straight lines had taken a lunge to the left and he found himself using the wall for guidance. Little brothers sure took delight in the older ones misery sometimes. Maybe this was the lesser of the two evils. Maybe.
"Dad, please help me back up."
The pleading tone in Don's voice broke Alan's determination to try the tough love approach. He crouched forward and ran his hand through Don's hair, keeping the other hand on his back to steady his boy.
"Ok Donnie, just give it a minute and the attack will be over"
Alan kept caressing Don's hair. The attacks of Vertigo were becoming less frequent but they were still forceful. Instead of having one after the other they were starting to dissipate. Don could go a good hour or two and be as steady as a rock. Obviously his hour was up.
"Ready to move Donnie?"
Alan caught a quiet yes and began to hook his hands under Don's arms. Don attempted to help but his balance was still severely off and he almost fell back to the floor.
"I've got you son, come on, up we go"
Alan had Don standing and slung his arm around his son's waist. Slowly they made their way back to the couch. Alan lowered Don down . He didn't bother hiding his relief at being laid out on the couch again. Alan smoothed Don's hair and left his hand resting on his chest. Feeling his son's breathing calm as the attack faded into the distance.
"So. Where were you going?"
"What?"
"Well you had to have been going somewhere Don to end up on the floor."
"Was going to see if you needed any help in the kitchen"
"Really?" Alan raised his eyes disbelievingly at his son.
Don attempted an innocent look, but seeing as his father seemed to be a step ahead of him at the moment he opted instead for the truth.
"I was going to sit outside for a bit of fresh air"
"I could open a window Donnie"
"That's not the same"
"So, let me get this straight, just so I know where I stand. Instead of calling me to help you outside, you decided to try to walk, stood up too quickly, promptly found yourself face first in the carpet, laid there for at least ten minutes probably, then called for help only because you couldn't get back up to the couch. All that instead of asking me to help you outside. Right now you could be sitting in the sun enjoying the fresh air. But no, because you're a stubborn ass you will be here on the couch for the next hour or so while your balance rights itself. Have I missed anything?"
"Yes"
"What?"
"I was on the floor for fifteen minutes, not ten"