Chapter 13

He almost didn't understand what Megan was saying, at first.

She was pulling on his arm and Colby was jumping past him out of the van. He looked at her, confused.

"He's down," she repeated, "the suspect is down!"

Then he was out of the van, and David was trying to hold both him and Colby back.

"Wait! We don't have a confirmation on the other one!"

Don pushed against David. "Elvis shot Sandy already! Let me through!"

Captain Davis added his weight to David's. "Agent, we don't know that those shots neutralized the other perp. We have to wait."

Don suddenly sagged against David, eyes trained on the front of the store.

He wasn't sure he could wait anymore.

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Charlie could still think, and the all-consuming fire convinced him that his calculations had been wrong. He must not have dropped in time. Elvis must have shot him.

He lay in the pretzels and tried to figure out where, how serious it was. He tried to lift his head to see if Elvis was down. He couldn't do either one, so he just lay there with his eyes open, and looked sideways towards the beer.

He saw tennis shoes around the same time the pain began to settle in a few specific places.

"Charlie? Dude. He's dead, man. They're both dead. Are…are you dead?"

He recognized Ricky's voice. "Hope not," he whispered.

Hands began to probe at and around him.

"I don't see any blood." Jeremy's mother.

"What hurts, son?" Pete.

Charlie closed his eyes and thought.

It wasn't really possible, was it? That it had worked?

He opened his eyes again. "I- I think just the old stuff," he said in wonder. "My ribs, and my hand, when I fell on them — I may have made it worse…but I don't…" He started to move, swimming a little in the pretzels. "Help me sit up."

"We probably shouldn't move him," offered Laura, but Ricky's hands were already working, and soon Pete joined in and Charlie was sitting up and looking at them, almost in shock.

"I can't believe it," he said quietly.

Ricky, kneeling in front of him, smiled. "You can't believe it? Man, I am so going to study for my next algebra test…"

Jeremy's mother glanced nervously at the door. "Why doesn't someone come in?"

Charlie followed her gaze. "They don't know for sure about Sandy," he answered. "We'll have to go out. Can you guys help me stand?"

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They saw them come out.

Together.

Five hostages. A middle-aged woman who must be Jeremy's mother. An old man. A teenage girl. Charlie, leaning a little on another teenager, a boy.

The teenager might be supporting Charlie, but Don felt his own knees go weak.

He was frozen behind the tech van, watching as the group made its collective way to the first police vehicle, where Captain Davis had run to meet them. Whatever they said convinced Davis to give his officers the go-ahead, and Don watched an army of uniformed, vested personnel headed for the market, riot shields up.

He realized he was walking, then, and couldn't remember getting his legs to move. "Charlie!", he choked, and over all the other noises around him, Charlie heard Don and lifted his head, began to search the darker corners of the lot. He smiled when he saw Don.

Don broke into a jog, then, and in a few more steps threw himself at Charlie, pulling back quickly when Charlie yelped in pain. "Shit, I'm sorry…" He clutched Charlie's face between his hands. "You idiot. You absolute idiot. What did you think you were doing?" He couldn't stop himself, he hugged Charlie again, trying to be more careful, but what started out as light pressure soon turned into a vise grip. He wasn't sure he could ever let go of Charlie again.

The sound of Megan's voice, her questions to Charlie, finally got through the haze of relief and fear enough to make him back off again.

"How badly are you hurt? Tell me what happened, Charlie." Megan's professional demeanor was blown as soon as Don pulled back a little, though. She leaned in to hug Charlie herself. "God, Charlie," she said into his ear. "It's good to see you."

Captain Davis caught Don's attention. "I'll radio for the EMTs. They're on standby, it won't take long."

Don saw Charlie flinch. "Please, Don. It's not that bad…"

Don looked at Davis. "Let me take him to the hospital and get him checked out, take him home for a few hours. I'll bring him in for debriefing later." Captain Davis started to shake his head and Don hurried on. "Both of your perps are dead. You've got all the other hostages. You can wait a few hours. Please."

Davis hesitated, then pulled a business card out of his uniform pocket, leaned into the cruiser for a moment and came out with a pen. He turned the card over and scribbled a number, then offered it to Don. "This is my personal cell. Call me when you're coming in, and I'll meet you." He looked again at Charlie. "Something tells me I want to hear this story."

Charlie smiled. He indicated the pen with his head. "Can I borrow that?"

Captain Davis held out the pen. Charlie took it with his good hand and Don noticed the other one for the first time. Bruised, swollen. Don winced, and Charlie held the pen. "Um…and another business card?" Davis smiled and pulled out another one.

"Donnie." Don pulled his attention away from Charlie's obviously broken hand long enough to look up, but was still too freaked out to really understand. Megan finally took the card and the pen, and Charlie smiled. "Thanks. Could you write my cell number on the back?" While Megan did that, Charlie looked at Captain Davis again. "Could you give that to Jeremy's mother? I promised to help him with his math."

Captain Davis took the card and pen back. "Oh, yeah," he said, turning to the store. "I definitely want to hear this story."