Alan forced his sons to stay home the next day. Don only took a moment to call in the crime scene unit and then was forced back into bed. He and Charlie spent most of the day asleep, which didn't bother Don in the least.
Around four o'clock, Don couldn't take any more of it, though. He knew he needed to get to work and do something half-way productive. It was fine catching up on sleep so he would be at the top of his game, but now that he was rested, it was time to actually put his energy to work.
He knew his father would never let him out the front door. He could hardly believe he was going to use his teenage-hood escape route. The only problem with that was that Charlie would see him leave. He just hoped his brother would be kind enough to let him go. Don could remember his brother keeping his secrets before when they were younger. Hopefully that would be the case now, too.
Charlie was awake when Don slipped into his old room. He watched his older brother come inconspicuously inside and had to smile. He knew his brother was up to something; he just didn't know what.
"What are you up to?" Charlie asked.
"Sh," Don said, thinking his brother's voice was much too loud. He was afraid his father would hear, though he was downstairs in the living room. He had escaped by telling his father he was going to check on Charlie. He was tempted to make an escape with someone from the crime scene unit, or even Colby, who had come by a few hours ago.
"Well?" Charlie asked, whispering this time.
"Okay, I'm sneaking out."
Charlie had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.
"Shut up," Don said, smiling, too.
"How old are you again?"
Don lightly punched his brother's shoulder, and was surprised to get a punch back.
"So, what escape route are you taking this time? If I remember correctly, you had several when we were in high school."
"The main exit, of course." Don gestured to the window.
Charlie shook his head. "You're pathetic."
"Well, I can't just sit here and do nothing, Charlie! I have a job, and it's pretty important. Sometimes I think Dad forgets that."
Charlie's face drained of color. He couldn't believe his brother said that, no matter how little thought he had put into it. He and Alan understood all too well how important Don's job was, and it was because of that that they worried so much. How could Don think for a moment the importance of his job left Alan's mind? Charlie was just thankful that their father hadn't heard Don say that.
"What? What did I say?" Don asked, seeing the emotions on his brother's face.
"Nothing... nothing. You should probably go before Dad catches you."
Don frowned. It wasn't nothing. That much was obvious. "Tell me."
Charlie looked off to the side, avoiding his brother. "Dad and I never, for a second, forget the importance of your job. That's why we worry. That's why Mom worried. We know what your job means, and we know the risk. Knowing that you're good at your job allows us some comfort. But we're always scared, Don. We're always afraid that one of these days someone is going to show up on our doorstep, or give us the call that we don't want to get. Don't you think that maybe Dad wants you close, where he knows where you are, because then he knows you're safe? That way he doesn't have to worry for a while?"
Don felt regret already. He sank down on the bed beside Charlie, who moved his knees up to his chest to leave room for Don to sit.
"You really worry that much?"
Charlie had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes. "Of course! Don, it may not be every day, but you get shot at. We don't know what days you will and what days you won't. Sometimes you're put in even more dangerous situations. It's scary. I know you don't think about it because you're used to it by now. You just think it's part of the job. But it's something that we can't get used to. Getting a call that you've been shot, or injured on the job, doesn't make us think, 'Oh, it's just another injury.' No, we think, 'That's one more time that we could have lost him.' No matter how many times you get hurt on the job, that'll just make us think that we were that much closer to losing you."
Charlie felt like he could be crying. In many other instances he would be. But he was angry. He was telling the truth to his brother, a truth that he couldn't believe Don didn't realize. It seemed so obvious to him, and probably to Alan too. It was harder on Charlie and Alan, living with Don's job, than it was for Don himself. That didn't seem right, but it was how it was. Don had to worry about getting killed or hurt. Charlie and Alan had to worry about losing him forever. They would be the ones left behind. They would be the ones who would have to live without him. They'd already gone through it with losing Margaret. The last thing they wanted was to go through it over Don.
"Buddy... you don't need to worry about that. I don't want you to-"
"You think that's going to make a difference?! Don, we're your family. We're not going to stop worrying every time the phone rings and you're not with us just because you 'don't want us to.' Can't you see that?"
Don nodded solemnly. He was just trying to explain to his brother that there was no need, that he was good enough at his job that there was no need to worry. But it was obviously a delicate situation with his brother. Maybe there was more to it. Don didn't think now was the time to ask, though.
"I'm sorry, Buddy. I-I didn't mean for you to have to worry so much."
Charlie gave his brother a small smile to show he wasn't angry any more. "It's okay. You get used to worrying after the first decade or so."
"Charlie..."
"You'd better go before Dad comes up here."
Charlie turned on his side, though at the moment it hurt. He wouldn't show it to Don. He just didn't want to face his brother any longer. Don would try to fix it, and he would... for a little while. But Don couldn't change the fact that he and their father would worry. It was something they lived with every day. And, yes, to some extent they were okay with it. Fear never went away, though. Worrying never stopped. It was just pushed down on the list of what they were doing after a while. Charlie didn't think about it every second away from Don. Things like phone calls and stories on the news triggered the fear. Worrying was just a constant that became like breathing. He didn't really think about it and he didn't really recognize it anymore.
"Okay. I'll see you later, Buddy."
Don squeezed Charlie's shoulder and made his climb down the side of the house, thankful that there were no other windows on that side of the house.
Charlie's words hit home. He couldn't imagine quitting his job over it. He'd always known his family would worry. He had taken that into consideration before he chose this career. But he couldn't help that he loved his job. He couldn't guarantee that he'd be safe, and there was no point telling his family that. It made him realize he had to be more careful for their sake. He wouldn't be overly careful to the point that he couldn't even do his job, but he could take some extra precautions.
He was able to drive away and without getting caught by his father. But the image of his brother watching him leave from the upstairs window stayed with him and tore at his heart.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Alan looked out the window and watched Don drive away. He suspected something was up and, knowing his son was a capable adult, he let Don go through with his decision to leave. He couldn't very well stop him, no matter how much he wanted to. It would be much nicer that way for him, but his happiness wasn't what mattered.
There were so many times he just wanted to stop his son, make him stay forever. Alan shuddered at the memory of his wife begging him to do something.
"Alan! Alan, do something! You can't just let him walk out like that! He was shot. We can't let him go back to that job and get hurt again, can we? Stop him!"
"No, Margaret."
Alan walked away from the window, where he had been standing as he watched his son drive away. Don had stayed with them momentarily since he had been injured on the job. Now that he was better, he was gone again.
"Alan! Alan! Go after him! Please! Don't you care about your son? Do you want him to get shot?" Margaret latched onto Alan's arm, trying to pull her husband toward the door so he could go after her baby.
"No! Margaret, I can't stop him. This was Don's choice, not mine. He loves his job. One bullet isn't going to stop him. You're going to have to get used to that."
For the first time in over 25 years of marriage, Margaret struck her husband with a sharp slap across the face. The two just stood there, staring at each other in disbelief. Alan reached a hand up to his face and gingerly touched it.
"Oh, honey!" Margaret pushed herself into her husband's arms. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. "I'm so sorry."
Alan slowly returned the embrace. "It's okay. This was the first time. It'll get easier after a while."
Margaret shuddered in her husband's arms. The idea that there would be more instances like this terrified her. But Alan was right. She would get used to it. Some how she would learn to deal with this every day of her life.
Little did either of them know, Charlie had witnessed the whole thing from the stairs. He silently cried there until his parents embraced. He then slowly made his way back upstairs and cried in his room.
Alan shook his head sadly at the remembrance. It had been the first time he and Margaret had truly let go over their son because they both knew then that they weren't capable of protecting him anymore. They couldn't make him quit his job. And they certainly couldn't protect him while he was working. So they had to let him go and just pray every day that he would be safe.
Charlie slowly came down the stairs and saw his father looking out the window. He smiled sadly at the look on Alan's face.
"You saw that, huh?" he asked quietly as he came over to the couch where his father sat.
"I just wanted him to be home... just for a while longer."
Charlie's heart raced at the thought of how well he knew his father. The only problem was that Don didn't know him as well. If only Don knew, he would have stayed home.
"I suppose he's where he's needed." Alan finally tore his gaze off the street and turned to his son and smiled. "We just have to wait for our next turn."
Charlie's smile diminished at his father's statement. "You know we always come first in his life."
"Do we? It doesn't seem that way. I mean, to think of what your mother went through over him..." Alan let his sentence trail off, going back to that day. This time, he brought Charlie with him.
Charlie could remember seeing his parents that day when Don left. His heart nearly broke just at the way his mother cried, and, though eighteen, he cried too. There was nothing he could do to make her feel better. He had nearly shouted when Margaret struck Alan. It had shocked him. He sat on the stairs, hand covering his mouth, and stared as they stared at one another. It was more than he could handle. He never wanted them to fight like that again. It made his stomach sick.
After going up to his room, Charlie laid across his bed and sobbed. He hadn't been aware of the fact that his brother had been shot, not at first at least. It hadn't been until his mom had slipped and said something about it that he knew. He couldn't look at his brother the same way after that. Sure, he hadn't really gotten the chance to treat Don any certain way. Every time he tried to start a conversation with his older brother, Don complained that he was too tired. It made him feel guilty later that he had spent time bothering his brother when he needed rest.
Much like his parents, Charlie began to worry constantly about his brother. Though he knew so much, he hadn't known how dangerous working for the FBI was going to be. It just didn't make sense to him. And now, knowing his brother could potentially get shot and killed, he couldn't seem to get Don off his mind.
Charlie remembered how much he had pestered his older brother for weeks after that.
"Don, it's me," Charlie spoke. Don had just left hours before, but he knew he'd be home by then, and he was right.
"Hey, Charlie. What's up? Everything okay?" Don's voice sounded gentle, but Charlie heard the underlining annoyance.
"Um, I... I just wanted to know you made it home okay."
"Oh. Well, yeah, I'm fine. Was that it? You do realize this is long-distance, right?"
"That doesn't matter anymore." Charlie felt tears come to his eyes but he made sure his brother wouldn't find out he was crying.
"Well, I should go, Buddy, okay? Tell Mom and Dad I made it home all right. I'll talk to you later."
"Okay, bye, Donnie."
"Bye."
Before Don hung up, Charlie had wanted to say "I love you," but Don had already hung up before he'd even said "I."
Charlie placed the phone back into its cradle shakily. He couldn't imagine how he was going to live with the knowledge that his brother could be killed. The risk was always there, of course. But it was so high for his brother. How could Charlie not think about it every minute of every day? How could he not call his brother on a regular basis to make sure he was okay? And if he didn't get a hold of him, how could Charlie keep himself from running to his brother?
Thinking back now, Charlie was thankful he had never actually gone to Don when he hadn't reached him. After a while, Don had called their parents and they had put a stop to Charlie's constant calls. It made Charlie feel worse, not knowing. The fear had been too much for him to the point that he began to have panic attacks. His parents had taken him to get therapy, and after a month of treatment, he was okay. With sudden alarm, Charlie realized his brother didn't know about that. Would it help any if he told him?
After spending over two years consulting for the FBI, Charlie had a taste of how much danger his brother was in. Yes, there were times where it was worse, but considering there had been so few incidents where Don was hurt, it made him much more comfortable about his brother's safety. Still, he couldn't stop worrying about his brother. If nothing else, he worried more because now, if Don got hurt, he could be to blame.
Alan focused on his son's face, coming out of the past. He could see the thoughts rolling in his son's head. Something was going on. "Charlie?"
Charlie flinched a little as he was brought back to reality. "Yeah, Dad?"
"What happened?"
"Nothing. Why?"
"You seem lost in your own world again."
Charlie chuckled. "I have a tendency to do that, don't I?"
Alan smiled, too, but then paused. He didn't want Charlie to be changing the subject on him. "Seriously, son. What is it?"
"I was just thinking about the way it was... when Don first got shot. You never told him what happened to me, did you?"
Alan shook his head. "No. At the time, your mother and I decided against telling him so he wouldn't feel any pressures to change jobs or to come home. We knew that Don was independent, so we didn't want that to change. Besides, it was information you could tell him, not us."
Charlie nodded in understanding. "I never told him... Should I?"
"That's up for you to decide. If you think it's something Don should know, you should tell him. It's up to you, though."
Alan patted his son on top of the head as he stood to go into the kitchen, leaving his son lost in thought. In ways he wanted Charlie to tell Don, but he still had the same feelings he did years before. He didn't want Don to feel any pressures in his job. He knew he was stressed enough. Then again, Don didn't have much of a grasp as to what went on when he was away and how it affected his family. Something like that would definitely bring things into focus.
He was sure Charlie would choose the right decision in the end, whatever decision that may be.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After dinner that night, Charlie decided to sit outside. He had expected Don to come back to eat, but he hadn't shown up. In ways it was probably for the best, considering he still didn't know whether to tell Don about therapy or not. It was a hard decision. He didn't want his brother to think he was just using it to make him stay around more, or make him feel guilty. The only reasons he could see to tell him were because he wanted to be honest with his brother and to make him understand just what he went through when he worried about him.
He rested his head against the back of the porch swing and closed his eyes. He was startled when he heard someone say his name.
Quickly opening his eyes, he found Janet Waits standing at the end of the porch. Feeling his pulse race, Charlie stared wide-eyed at her.
"What are you doing here?" he hissed, not wanting to be too loud.
"Well, we still need to talk, and I haven't heard from you in a while."
Suddenly appearing at his side, an agent ran up to the porch. "Dr. Eppes, do you know this woman?"
"Yes, it's okay. She's safe. Thank you."
The agent nodded, looked suspiciously at Janet, and then jogged off again.
"Wow. You have agents on you?"
"Yes, thanks to your son's friend Jake."
"Oh, I'm sorry. He always seemed the angrier of the two. But he rarely acted upon his rage. Maybe that will benefit you."
Charlie couldn't help but chuckle at that statement. He wouldn't go into details with this woman, but her statement was laughable. Jake hadn't eased up on him.
"Couldn't you have called? What if my father sees you?"
"Calm down, Mr. Eppes. I'm not here to sabotage your life. I just want to make sure you'll keep your promise."
"Yes, of course. When would you want to get together? Sometime next week would work best for me."
"Fine. How about Tuesday at three o'clock? I'll meet you at CalSci."
"That... that works for me."
"Good. I'll see you then."
"Bye."
Charlie watched her turn and walk away and whispered a curse beneath his breath when he saw his brother's car come into view and turn into the driveway.
"Hey, who was that?" Don asked as he stepped up onto the porch.
"Just someone out for a late walk. We made small talk for a minute."
"Oh, okay. We have any food left? I'm starving."
"Yeah, I'm sure Dad has leftovers for you."
"Great. Come eat with me."
"I just ate, though."
Don rolled his eyes. "You don't have to eat anything. Just sit with me."
"O-okay."
"Come on." Don helped Charlie up and walked with him inside the house. Charlie wasn't sure what he'd tell his brother, if he'd tell him anything. He could see on Don's face that he wanted to talk. That was fine by him, but would he add to the conversation what happened to him years ago?
Even Charlie didn't know.
Okay, another tiny cliffhanger. I apologize. However, I finished my last quarter which was SUCH a hectic one. This one should be much easier and so I should be able to update faster. My vacation was really fun. I'm sorry I wasn't able to update sooner. It seems like more things have come up since I've been home! I hope you like this chapter, though it's kinda short. Let me know if you think it's kinda detached from this storyline. I really want your input on this one because I felt something was different with this one. Let me know, okay?