Chapter Five: Anomalous Hostility

Charlie didn't recognize the shiny new suburban that was pulling into his driveway. He cautiously peeked around the curtains. When he saw his brother ascend from the driver's seat his mind recalled the image of Don's SUV that he had seen in the paper, perforated with bullet holes, glass shattered. Yeah, a new truck was probably a good idea. He opened the front door and greeted his brother with sincere enthusiasm.

……………………………

It had been four days since what he and Alan had started referring to as 'the incident.' Charlie's ribs still hurt, and the bruises had gone through every shade of the rainbow. They were now developing into a grotesque hue of green. His dignity still hurt too, but that was an open wound. After giving his statement on 'the incident' to Colby (which he had expected Don to be present for), Charlie was starting to wonder why his brother hadn't been by or called him. He hadn't seen or heard from Don since that night at the hospital. He had left early Thursday before Charlie was even awake. Charlie thought there might still be chance that Don was mad, even though he had said he wasn't. But the truth was Don had seemed almost frightened.

Yeah right. Charlie really wondered sometimes if his brother was afraid of anything. Even if he was, he wouldn't own up to it, even being afraid of what had almost happened. But Charlie had been petrified and he was completely primed to admit it. He wanted to shut it all away. He wanted to disappear and conceal everything he was feeling.

The way you always do. He did want to hide, but he also wanted the chance to clear the air and get back to doing what he had become so good at; consulting for the FBI and working with his brother. Charlie had intentionally stayed far away from the garage and had spent much of the last few days convincing his father that what had happened was nobody's fault. And now, much to his own surprise, he needed to talk to Don. He wanted to. He had finally called Don on Saturday night and left a cryptic voice mail telling him to come over as soon as possible.

……………………………

"Hey there, Don. Where have you been?"

Charlie's buoyant inquiry was met with unembellished exasperation from his older brother.

Stopping in the open doorway, Don was taken aback to see Charlie so upbeat. He had expected to find him hiding out the garage again and from the uncertainty in the message left on his voicemail; Don figured he was completely lost in his numbers by now. He was almost prepared to see Charlie working himself to exhaustion in front of his blackboard again. But Charlie appeared to be fine, better than fine. And for what Don had come prepared to say to his brother; this was not the mood Charlie was supposed to be in. For reasons he could not explain, he found that exceptionally irritating.

"I've been working Charlie, which is what I should be doing now. Did you need something?"

Charlie's exuberance quickly faded.

"Yes, in fact. I do, Don. I need my older brother to stop avoiding me."

He wasn't used to being this direct with Don. His brother usually just got the hint without making Charlie verbally expose all of his insecurities.

"I just thought…..I wanted to…..I needed to see you, that's all. I was still a little out of it Wednesday night and then you never came back by and I just felt like…well, maybe we still had some things we needed to…you know….talk about."

"What is there to talk about, Charlie?"

Charlie's open, hopeful expression had crumbled and Don could see the impending upheaval brewing behind his brothers' dark eyes. They had faced a lot of hurdles this past year. He had really felt that they had started to make serious progress in rebuilding their relationship. Now this. Don was about to blow it and he knew it.

If Charlie thought they needed to talk, then he was going to say what he came to say.

"Talking about what happened isn't going to make it any less of a problem, Charlie. I never should have taken you out there. Bringing you into this was a bad idea from the very beginning. I made a tremendous error in judgment and I'm not going to let it happen again. I've already told Merrick that you would no longer be consulting for our local field office."

Charlie met his brother's determined glare, disbelief manifesting itself plainly across his face.

"I am not a child Don. You have no right…..NO RIGHT to do that. I'm perfectly capable of making my own choices and I don't need you dictating to me what I can and cannot do. The work I do with the FBI is valuable. I know that. If you don't want me working with you – I'll find another team to assist…I'm sure that Director...…"

Don cut in.

"NO! No Charlie, you can't. I won't let you."

"You won't let me?"

Charlie had reached the end of a rope he didn't know he had.

He stepped toward the taller man.

"You can go to hell. You won't stop me from doing a damn thing. Who do you think you are?"

Don stared down at the defiant eyes in front of him. They had fought before, but his brother had never talked to him this way. A concentrated charge of resentment tore through him and he stepped forward, meeting his brother half way across the room. He was going to make Charlie understand this.

"I'm your brother! Damn it, Charlie! I'm the guy who is supposed to protect you! Not stand by while you get yourself killed. Don't you get it? You were shot FOUR TIMES."

"That's right Don, I was shot. ME…."

Charlie's assertion overlapped his brother's words…

"FOUR TIMES CHARLIE! Right in the chest!"

They were standing almost nose to nose now.

"If you think I'm not aware of the remarkable statistical improbability my being alive represents, you're wrong. I am more than willing to acknowledge that the most feasible outcome of my being shot should have been fatality. I can accept that."

"Can you Charlie? Really?"

The ridicule radiated off Dons words.

"Because I can't. If you hadn't been wearing that vest – we'd be at a funeral right now and you'd be the guest of honor. I can't do that Charlie and I won't let it happen! You're not going back to that office. It stops now!"

Charlie took a single step away from his older brother, balled up his fist and punched Don square in the mouth.

The shock of being struck by his younger brother threw him off balance and Don landed solidly on the living room floor.

Don sat on the floor gawking at the look of pure fury that had corrupted his brother's typically tranquil features. He couldn't believe it. To the best of his knowledge Charlie had never landed a truly solid punch in his life. He reached up and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. Charlie had split his lip. With a disbelieving smirk on his face, Don got to his feet.

Charlie took two full steps backwards away from his brother. He fully expected harsh retaliation for his actions. Charlie stared…..disbelieving at what he had just managed to accomplish and annihilate with one single act of violence.

Don took two steps forward. He and his brother had never come to blows before, but he'd be damned if he was going to be the one to back off.

Charlie instinctively started to move further back, but he stopped himself mid-step. He could see the blood creeping out over Don's bottom lip and he wondered if he had broken his knuckles. Don had showed him how to make a fist once so that wouldn't happen. But he had never tried it. He had never really hit anyone before.

Not like that.

He braced himself. He deserved to be pummeled and he wasn't going to run away from this.

With both his hands in fists, Don considered his need for immediate retribution. The stinging pain from his lip had fueled a frustration that he been suppressing for years. This had been a long time coming and Don was ready to make it count. He drew his fist back, but unexpectedly the mental picture of the black and blue marks that had covered his brother's upper body popped into his mind.

There was no way he could hit him back. Not today. Not after what he had just gone thru because of him.

"What in the holy hell is going on in here?"

Their father's voice turned them both toward the still open front door where Alan Eppes was standing. His look of shear disbelief and utter disappointment at what he was observing made both his boys cringe.

"Donnie? Were you going to strike your brother?"

Don closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. Then he turned his back to Charlie. He smeared the fresh blood that was running down his chin across his face with the back of his hand.

"No Dad. I was just leaving."

Without a second glance at his brother, Don walked past his astonished father, and out the front door of the house they had grown up in. He knew as he crossed the threshold, there was real good chance he wouldn't be coming back.

Alan stared at the stranger who was looking out of his youngest son's eyes. He hadn't moved from the place he was standing and he still had his right fist tightly clenched by his side.

"Charlie? What did you do?"

Charlie looked at his father and then at the swelling knuckles of his right hand in utter disbelief.

Wow.

Hitting someone in the face really hurt.

Not just someone. His brother.

He had just hit his brother! And now Don was gone.

His hands started shaking as the surge of anger and adrenaline that had been holding him up dissipated. He felt his throat clench and his stomach start to heave. He turned and ran for the bathroom leaving his father alone to speculate what had just happened between his sons.