Title:
Sometimes life hurts, it hurts way to much
Don-Charlie one-shot
A/N: This is not a sequel to anything so you'll have to pretend like this happened. To sum it up for you – pretend you're an outsider looking in on the household after one of Don's cases has gone bad.
ANGST WARNING
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Charlie swung his fist at the punching bag in the basement. Don had gotten it to keep up his physical fitness and couldn't hang it at his apartment, so he agreed to keep it there and let Charlie and Alan use it.
Alan hardly used it, but Charlie always did. Mostly when he'd had a tough day on campus - or, like now, when one of Don's cases had gone wrong.
It was supposed to be an easy job. All Charlie had to do was pinpoint where he thought the man was coming. He was accurate – the house was a bug bust and several people got arrested.
So why wasn't he happy? Why wasn't everything falling into place? Why everyone wasn't happy – and well, most of them were happy – so why couldn't Charlie be happy?
Charlie knew. He really knew. He knew because it was his fault. It was his fault the house was accurate.
It was his fault Don got shot. He slammed his fist into the bag. Don was wearing a protective vest and would only be kept in the hospital for an hour, but it was still his fault.
He slammed his foot into the bag again and took a breath before double-slamming his fist into the bag with all of his might. He did it for nearly twenty minutes, before he started to fall over, exhausted.
Somebody caught him and helped him into the chair. "Easy, buddy," Don said, helping him sit down. "What was this – I've never seen you so angry… Are you OK, Buddy?"
"No, I'm not," Charlie said. He looked down at the ground and Don could have sworn he saw a single tear fall from his brother's face.
Of course, he could have been blinking, but… he decided it was a tear. He sat down next to Charlie and put his arm on Charlie's shoulder.
"Charlie," he said. Charlie didn't look at him. Don sighed. "Charlie, what happened today – It was a good thing."
"How could it be a good thing? You got shot!" Charlie said. "And it was my fault!"
"Maybe it was. But I'm not going to say it is because it wasn't. And Charlie, THIS IS NOT YOUR FAULT, you understand?"
Charlie just nodded. "But Don, if I hadn't pinpointed…" He stopped when he saw Don staring at him.
"Charlie. Look at me," Don said. Charlie turned. "This WAS NOT YOUR FAULTand will NEVER BE in ANY WAY your fault. If anything it's mine for leading the team instead of letting SWAT go first."
"So why was it a good thing?"
"You heard, didn't you? We captured three men, the big agents, the man that shot me and the man who was on our team that was deep undercover; we got him out of there safely."
Charlie smiled. "I guess you're right. So you don't blame me?"
"I could never blame you, Charlie," Don said.
"I couldn't either," Alan said, coming downstairs. "Either of you want some iced tea?"
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