A/N Finally, the end. Thank you for your interest.
Mistaken Part Two
The Aftermath 5/5
"Thanks," Don said after the car had stopped.
"You're welcome," Colby replied from the driver's seat.
Don removed his seat belt. Out of the corner of his eyes, he glanced at Colby. "You know that the thanks also include the -" he shrugged.
"That you almost smashed your hand through the bathroom wall?" Colby glanced at Don.
Don sighed. That hadn't been one of his best moments. If Colby hadn't been there to stop him, he would have ended up in the emergency room with a shattered hand that may or may not heal again. Punching a hole in the wall only looked awesome in the movies.
"You're welcome for that, too." Looking away and through the windshield, Colby drummed with his fingers on the steering wheel.
Having said what needed to be said, Don started to open the door.
"Don," Colby suddenly said, stopping him. "Our first case with Dwayne, you remember?"
Don closed the door and looked back to Colby. "Sure." He didn't know if he was hoping for another subject to talk about or wanting to flee in case this was the start of round three of Dwayne versus Colby.
"Do you know what you said to me back then?"
With a shrug, Don prompted Colby to continue. Don remembered a lot, but he had no idea what part Colby was referring to.
"You said that you had never seen combat but that you had seen your fair share of firefights. And the only thing you feared was to let your guys down."
Don remembered the moment on the pier. Colby had stood in front of him, insecure and trustworthy. Don had believed his agent, not expecting that Colby could be working undercover. "I also said that if you do it again, you'd go to jail. I think, I kept that promise."
Colby snorted. "Yes and yes you did. But the point is that powerlessness didn't scare you but to let us down. And you didn't let us down. Never." He removed his sunglasses and shifted in his seat to show his seriousness. "On this Chinese ship, I knew that I would die if you didn't come. It was simple as that. If you had given up on me, if I hadn't been able to convince you, then I would be dead." Colby gaze went back to the windshield and whatever memory it reflected.
"Couldn't let that happened," Don said and grinned. "My hand wouldn't have survived the hole in the wall."
Colby replied with a smirk on his face. "Back then you also were caught out of luck - I mean you had to arrest one of your agents for treason, nothing more and nothing less."
"Fun times, just ask David." Don leaned back and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired.
"I did. And I know that David couldn't get over it, he couldn't get over his anger. I was the target of a lot of this anger, but apparently it wasn't anything compared to before according to Megan."
"And?" Don was running out of patience. Something that happened a lot lately.
"But you helped me to stay here. I'm sure you know the difference between yourself and David in this situation. You welcomed me back, David wished he wouldn't have to see me ever again."
Don exhaled deeply. In a way Colby was right. The weeks after Colby's return to the team had been difficult. He had given Colby and David time to work it out, all the while hoping that they would just get on. Maybe now it was his turn to get on, get on with his life.
"Your father has invited us over for Sunday," Colby suddenly said as if he sensed that Don was at the end of his rope for a conversation like that. "Is this a celebration or an intervention? For one of the two options, I'm going to show up."
Chuckling, Don shot Colby a quick smirk. "He wants to celebrate. I think he wants to show us, that despite all, we should be thankful because we got lucky. It could have ended far differently."
"A wise man. Are you going to be there?"
"Do you think my father would accept no for answer?" Don used the opportunity to open the door and jump out of the car.
"Yes, I actually do think that Alan would accept no for an answer," Colby answered. "But be prepared to hear about it for the next ten years."
Don snorted, shut down the door behind him and waved his goodbye.
Charlie closed the door softly behind him, not wanting to wake his father if he had already retired for the night. He just came home from a meeting with the dean about what had happened. Afterwards, he had had a long conversation with Millie. While she would continue her support for Serena Dillons, something she considered her duty as her teacher, she had apologized for her words to Don. By now, Millie had talked to everybody except Don.
"Charlie?"
Charlie jerked at the unexpected voice, before he recognized it. "Dad!"
Alan came in from the kitchen, switching the light on. "Charlie! How are you?"
"Why is everybody asking me that?" Charlie replied and put down his bag. He had ideas but the conclusion of his research still seemed inadequate.
"You're hurting, and we want to help," his father said and settled down in his armchair.
Slowly, Charlie came over, and sat down on the nearest armrest of the second armchair. "Ron Silar is so angry. In fact, everybody is so angry. Is there even another emotion out there anymore? Robin is angry that somebody almost killed Don, so am I. And the three students are so angry that the world doesn't change and -" Charlie broke off and looked helplessly to his father. "I cannot figure this out. I know I should just let it rest, but ..."
"And that makes you angry? Or fearful? You know, fear and panic lead to anger by an intermediate step called powerlessness. If you fear something but are not in the position to make significant changes, it leads to anger. The same can be said about powerlessness on its own. It's like Larry said back then. Be aware of this anger, look for outlets and channel this anger on things you can change and you want to change."
"But what if you cannot change things on your own?"
Alan crossed his legs. "Well, you have the same two options everybody gets, deal with it, either by changing your opinion, fighting or finding a compromise, or get dealt by it."
"Making a compromise? You were always telling us to stand up for what is right."
"Yeah, well," Alan said while a deep frown settled on his face. "I may have not stressed enough that you should first check if you're right. We are not always right, and it's good to remember that."
Charlie nodded. "What brought this on?"
Looking down, his father hesitated a moment, leaving Charlie wondering what he was thinking about. "Ways to protest that I would have defended forty years ago suddenly have the possibility to be wrong. Back then, our 'enemies' were also somebody's son or brother, they all had a history what had led them down this path, but I just couldn't see it. Don't misunderstand me, I still believe that what I did was the right thing to do, but maybe not the right way."
"So, what would you do differently now?" Charlie asked eagerly, maybe his father could provide him with the missing piece to understand it.
"I would take the time to learn about their reasoning and then I would develop a vision. I would stop telling people they are acting wrong, but create a vision, write a book, a TV show, a tool, a school, anything that's so much better that everybody wants to do it this way."
"But what if you don't have time for that?"
Alan snorted. "Let me give you a little advice. The time you spent to develop this vision, a vision a lot of people can share because it also would make their life better, is far better spend than the years and years of defending hard-won victories because the change you achieved has been forced upon unwilling people, who tend to fight back."
Charlie lowered his head. "The forth dimension."
"What?"
"Time," he said. "That's my missing forth dimension. It's what has been missing in my expression the whole time - we don't only have a brain, but a brain that's been used and what we have already done is an important factor in how we act."
Alan raised an eyebrow. "Fancy term for something I used to call experience and wisdom."
"No, Dad, not a fancy term but a matter of fact. I need to incorporate the age and life experience in my model." Charlie stood up. "Thanks dad."
"For what?" His father stared at him puzzled.
"For having dealt with your anger, so I can look up to you and see where I need to end up. By the way, how did you do it?"
"I'll tell you after I figured it out. But I know one thing, strong emotions overrule rational thinking for both good and bad. Without anger at injustices we would never progress. But with anger we also fall back to fighting without rules."
"And what do we about Don?"
His father froze, an expression of pain flickering across his face. "That's what my little celebration is for. It's time to remember to be thankful. Because a lot of things happened, but the worst things didn't." Alan heaved himself out of the armchair. "But for today, it's late. We both should be in bed. Where's Amita?"
"Still talking to Millie, about an idea Millie had. She'll be home soon," Charlie said. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his father taking a deep breath as Charlie mentioned Millie. No matter how much Alan tried, his relationship with Millie had significantly cooled down. It was just a matter of time until their dating would fizzle out. Charlie glanced to the wall with their last family portrait. "I wish mom would be here. She would make everything better."
Alan followed his gaze. "I wish that, too."
Megan played with a ring on a finger. At work, she didn't wear jewelry but for a relaxing evening, as Alan had called it as he had invited her, it seemed appropriate. The whole house was decorated with flowers. But the relaxing part was still missing. Don still hadn't shown up and his absence had brought a nervousness to the conversation and atmosphere, everybody felt.
"I assume, Alan's timely call has its root in Don's absence?" Larry whispered while he leaned forward. Alan's phone had rung just as he was about to call Don.
Megan smiled as she caught a sniff of the perfume, Larry had felt necessary to wear. She nodded. After Don had reached the same conclusion that there was nothing else to it, he had become withdrawn and ... lost. He seemed lost. Lost because his preferred method to deal with the heavy blows life dealt had always been his work but now his work had provided the last blow.
"I guess Don had hoped for a different conclusion," David said, interrupting the illusion of a secret conversation at a full table.
"Nah, Don just wanted to make sense of it," Colby added his opinion. "But three students trying to kidnap Charlie doesn't make sense."
"Did you talk to Don, Charlie?" Megan asked, drawing the genius into their conversation. Alan had left the room and paced now in front of the house, still talking into his phone.
"Of course," Charlie answered. "But I also couldn't find a connection."
"Charles," Larry said, "I don't think Megan meant your endeavor to find a deeper and hidden network in normal student activities."
Grinning, Megan offered Larry her hand. "I was talking about the mistaken part."
Charlie looked down.
"Don said, that he doesn't blame Charlie," Robin explained while she checked her phone again. She had been the first to start sending texts to Don as she had come straight from Sacramento with just a short visit to her apartment. If her plane hadn't been canceled, she would have been back yesterday already. Then she would have come together with Don as they had planned.
"I know that," Charlie shot back. "But it's not so easy to not blame myself. It should have been me. And now I can't even help him because I can't find other conspirators and I can't explain it to him and -"
The front door opened and Alan came back, wearily and with hanging shoulders. Carefully, as if he had to think about every step, he walked to his place at the head of the table. "Well, I don't know how to say this, but ..." He hesitated.
"Don has canceled?" Megan asked trying to build a bridge for Alan. By now, everybody at the table had figured it out.
"Well, yes. Did you know?"
"No," Megan said. "But the timely call didn't leave a lot of other options, without being overly pessimistic." Then she paused, waiting for Alan to reach a decision whether he wanted to continue or cancel.
"He said he doesn't feel well and wants to try to get some sleep," Alan said and for once Megan was unable to read Alan. She didn't know if he was angry, sad or worried. Or maybe all of it at once.
Robin chuckled. "What?" she asked at the startled stares. "It's true. He really doesn't feel or sleep well, but usually he just ignores it and goes on as if nothing happened. I'm not sure if I should be happy that he finally got to a point where he can admit it, or if I should go -"
"-and strangle him." Charlie finished for her.
"As an ADA I can advise you that strangling is not a good option," Robin said with a straight face. "I would hate to have to prosecute you."
Some healthy laughing lifted part of the dark mood in the room.
"Well, food is ready and still warm and -" Alan lifted the first lid. "It's pancakes," Charlie assessed. "Don's favorite." And with that the whole room was again dunked into a heavy silence.
All of a sudden, Charlie stood up, his chair scratching on the floor, and he went to the front door, grabbing his jacket on the way.
"Where are you going? Charlie!"
"I can't! I can't stay here knowing that Don is all alone in his apartment and -"
"Charlie he needs time."
"I know. I know. And he can get all the time in the world. But not alone. Because sitting alone in the dark won't help," Charlie insisted.
"Then at least take some food." Alan jumped up. "Give me a minute to prepare it." Amita also jumped up to help Alan while David leaned back in his chair. "Don't try to make a conversation," David advised.
"Absolutely," Robin agreed. "But maybe you should bring a movie. Something you both can watch. It doesn't require words and you can do it together."
Charlie nodded eagerly, willing to take every advice he could get. "Sounds good. A movie and food."
"Beer," Colby added. "It's a good way to get a foot in the door."
"Charlie?" Megan also stood up and went over to Charlie. She needed to look him into the eyes to see if he really listened and understood what she was about to tell him. "Be prepared to leave whenever he wants you to go. Don't push."
"I won't." Charlie nodded earnestly. "I know how to do this. He's my brother."
Alan brought a big bag, enough to feed an army and that didn't even include the food still standing untouched on the table. Charlie accepted the bag and with a last glance across his shoulder, he left, closing the door behind him.
"Shall I fetch my radio in case LAPD gets a call?" Colby asked.
"Nah," Megan answered. "Charlie knows how to push Don's buttons but this is something Don knows how to deal with." She went back to Larry and stopped standing behind Larry, sending Alan a few glances. Alan seemed lost. He had invited his sons and their friends, and now both sons were gone but their friends were still there.
"It is a most excellent idea for Charles to drive to his brother," Larry broke the awkward silence while everybody tried to figure out how to bow out politely.
"Why?"
"Charles feels guilty and tries to find forgiveness," Larry explained.
"I don't think Don is even angry at him," David repeated the general assessment.
"Oh, I do not assume anger but Don has much more experience in dealing with guilt. Unqualified guilt for things beyond your control is something that comes with Don's job." He glanced to Megan. "And Megan's."
Colby snapped his fingers. "Ours, too," he said and pointed to David and himself. Megan glared at him, a move that was completely ignored. But Megan had to give it to Colby, he knew how to break the ice. "Of course, yours too." Larry accepted the interruption with much more grace than Megan would have. "But Charles is the solution to our current problem because he needs the help of his big brother." Suddenly, Megan understood what Larry was trying to say. She sat down next to him. "And by helping Charlie, he also gets back control and power." She gifted Larry with a beaming smile.
"Like I said, I think it's a very good idea for Charles to go to his brother." Larry was right. Don would reject help, but he would never reject the plea for help from his brother. Charlie was the solution, but not his math but the fact that he was Don's brother.
Alan cleared his throat. "Now that both of my sons apparently doing alone what I had planned to accomplish by this evening, you -"
"Alan," Larry interrupted him, raising his hand. "You also suffered greatly the last few weeks. Please allow us to provide some relief to you and help you to take your mind off the pain and fear." Megan felt the wetness in her tears as she reached for Larry's hand. No matter what Colby would say, she knew where Larry's beauty came from.
"Ah, well, then,-"
"Just say yes, Mister Eppes, Alan," David said, "I haven't eaten in a long time and your food smells delicious."
"Right," Alan said and clapped his hands together, his expression reflecting his affection. "Well, then dig in, I've made plenty."
And with Megan knew it would be successful evening.
Don walked along the CalSci steam tunnels. They seemed longer than he remembered them. Breaking out into a slow jog, Don wanted to reach his destination faster. Suddenly, the walls around him vanished, and he jogged into a green garden. He slowed down until he came to a stop as he recognized the area. He had ended up in front of his parent's house. The old craftsmen house beckoned him over with a promise of a warm home.
But just before he could reach the front door, three shapes blocked his way. Blinking, Don stopped. In front of him Ron, Horatio and Serena came out of a fog, and they had come prepared. Involuntarily, Don took a step back.
"Well, well, isn't that the fed?" Ron sneered. "Not such a big boy without your goons?"
Don balled his fists.
"Let him be," Horatio said, "he's just the brother of the guy we really want."
"Maybe we should let Serena deal with him," Ron said, "she had done it the last time really well."
"I'm busy. I have to prepare new data," Serena said.
Don's fingertips dug into his palms until it hurt. This time he wasn't drugged. This time he would be able to fight back. But as he took the first swing, the shapes disappeared in front of him. Just to reappear a few feet beside their original position.
Again, they taunted him, but before Don could take their words to his heart, he also heard different voices speaking different words, words from his father, words from his childhood, words from his friends.
"Think about the emotion behind their actions and you will find it in you to forgive them."
"Don't forget by forgiving them you actually acknowledge that they did you wrong or you wouldn't need to forgive."
"The only thing you can decide is how to deal with something. Nobody can force you to feel or think something. That's all your decision."
"They are not worth to occupy your thoughts and dreams."
"You don't need to understand it."
"I'm proud of you."
Slowly, he forced his hands to relax. Ignoring the shapes, Don walked in the direction he had last seen the craftsmen house.
In a flash, the shapes returned and blocked his ways. This time, they built themselves up in front of him. "Password?"
Taking a deep breath, Don knew what he needed to say. "I'll forgive myself. I'll forgive you and hope you rot in jail." As fast as they had appeared, they disappeared again. His way home was free and as he opened the door, he was greeted by his family and friends. "Hey, you're here." He opened his mouth to say something but then -
- his eyes snapped opened. He recognized his bedroom right away. And as he lay in his bed, for the first time, he realized that he had just woken up from a dream without a racing heart. Glancing at his watch, Don read four o'clock in the morning. Better.
Against better knowledge, Don patted the bed beside him, but as expected it was empty. Robin hadn't come in without waking him. Before getting out of bed, he grabbed his cell phone and checked his messages to see if he had missed something important after he had muted it. Five missed messages. He sat up and went to the window, looking outside. Nothing at this image had changed and yet it seemed different. Without allowing himself to hesitate any further, Don opened the first message.
"Hi sweetie, Charlie isn't back yet, so I went home to my apartment. Give me a call if you want to grab breakfast together."
Don smiled at Robin's message. Definitely, he would give her a call. He couldn't remember why he had wanted to be alone. Now this desire was only a distant memory.
Next on the list was Colby.
"You missed delicious food and Alan hasn't disowned you. Call me if you need help to hide the body."
Don grinned. He sent a quick reply. "Charlie's fine!"
Next one was a message from David.
I'm taking calls for the team tonight. Rest well.
David was to the point, Don acknowledged the text with a short reply. David deserved as much. Then there were only two left. He started with Megan, that sounded more doable.
"I'm using my wildcard with Larry. David is the agent on call. If the world explodes, expect a call from him. P.S. Don't call me if you need help to hide the body."
Shaking his head, Don didn't offer an answer to her. Megan could call Charlie herself. Last in the list, his father's name stared at him accusingly. He had never wanted that the party would become a casualty of this mess. He had never intended to cause his father pain. Before he could dwell on his thoughts, Don hit open and read the text. Maybe Colby would be right.
"I hope you're feeling better now. Charlie has called and told me he stayed. There's some leftover from our little party. If you want to come over for lunch, I'd be happy to rewarm it."
Don knew he didn't need to wait for Thanksgiving to feel grateful. Sending a quick prayer of thanks, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of freedom.
After getting dressed, Don slipped out of his bedroom. In the doorway, he stopped as he saw Charlie sleeping on his sofa. With a smile, he tiptoed across the room and slipped into his running shoes. He still held his phone and only needed to grab his keys. As he looked back, his gaze was caught by the peaceful expression on Charlie's face. He could almost imagine the panic Charlie would fall into if he woke up and Don was gone. Not wanting to destroy the peace, Don took the time and wrote a fast note explaining his whereabouts and estimated time he would be back.
Softly, he closed the door behind him and left the house. Running in the mornings was a good way to stay healthy and fit for his job after all. In his mind, he went through the things he had to do today, none of it was dedicated to Ron and his friends. Instead, there were files that needed to be closed and send off to the DA, friends to say thanks. And if possible he knew already where he would take his lunch break. Just the two of them.
Charlie had warned him that Millie planned to talk to him today, but not even this prospect could keep him from smiling. As Don ran evenly, following his own rhythm, for the first time he didn't felt the desire to speed up. Instead, he was free to run at his own pace.
A bright smile graced his face, and he ran for the sake of running. Finally free from the dark cloud of anger, he could see the first signs of dawn again.
Freedom at last.
END
A/N Thank you for reading!