Waiting
Don was pacing impatiently in the waiting room when he felt his cell phone vibrate against his hip. Snatching it up, he glanced briefly at the display and his eyes widened.
"Aww, shit," he cursed and hurriedly answered the call. "Lauren, I'm so sorry."
"I've already experienced some affronts, but you simply getting up and leaving me high and dry without a word and me to pay the bill on top of that, that's really the summit of what I've ever seen," Lauren told him furiously.
"I know, Lauren, it's unforgivable. I've been called away on a family emergency. My brother…"
"I'm not interested in your lame excuses, Mr Eppes. I just called to tell you that I don't ever want to hear from you again. I sent you a check for the bill though and expect repayment. Bye."
The line went dead. Don stared at it for a moment, then put the phone away with a sigh. Another chance ruined. Then again, who knew if anything would have come out of it anyway? He sure as hell didn't regret having gone to Charlie's help. He had needed it. And if she wasn't even willing to listen why he had left as he had… her loss.
He resumed the pacing. Damn, what was taking them so long? Charlie had been seriously hurt but it hadn't looked as if it was life threatening, hadn't it? Okay, Charlie had passed out for good in the ambulance, scaring at least five years out of his big brother, but he had just passed out, hadn't he? It wasn't as if his heart had stopped beating or that he had a seizure or something like that. But what if he had slipped into a coma? Or perhaps, one of the broken ribs had punctured a lung and he had collapsed once they've rolled him out of Don's sight. And internal bleeding, with the beating he had suffered, was an all too real possibility as well. Damn it! He needed to know how his little brother was doing!
"Don?"
His head snapped around to see David standing in the doorway to the waiting room, looking apprehensive and concerned. Right. He had called the team once he'd been ushered towards the waiting room. The police had arrived a minute before the ambulance and while the agent in him had briefly tried to argue for him to stay back to brief them and make sure they didn't miss anything, the brother in him had overruled the agent completely, his need to remain with Charlie too great. So he had called in his team, sending them over to CalSci.
"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be over at CalSci?" Don asked, frowning, displeased.
David stepped inside. "Megan's taking care of CalSci. I'm here to take your statement. How's Charlie?" he asked and Don could see that he was genuinely concerned. Then again, he wasn't too surprised at that. Charlie wasn't just friends with the members of Don's team - he was one of the team.
Taking a deep breath, Don shook his head. "Don't know. They haven't told me anything yet."
David looked disappointed for a moment, then tried a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I'm sure he's fine. That brother of yours is tougher than anyone would give it to him."
Yeah, he was. But David hadn't been called by Charlie to come help him get up. He hadn't seen him, heard how tired he had been and how hard it had been for him to talk, to remain making sense. It wasn't his little brother that was treated in an ER room at the very moment. But Don just nodded.
David pointed over to one of the couches. "Why don't we take a seat and you'll tell me everything you know?"
Yeah, why not? It would beat imagining the worst case scenarios any time. And the sooner they could start looking for the assholes being responsible for bringing Charlie into that ER room in the first place, the better. He wanted them. He wanted them bad.
Reluctantly, he sat down, only to jump up immediately again. He simply was too restless to sit still. But he did start to tell David the night's events, starting with getting Charlie's call. He had just reached the point where Charlie had told him that it had been three or four assailants when his phone vibrated against his hip again.
Checking the display again, he closed his eyes and grimaced. Shit. He had hoped to delay this call until he knew more on Charlie's condition. With a sigh, he turned away from David and answered the call.
"Dad."
"Donnie, I know it's late," his father started, relief audible in his voice. "But could you swing by the campus and see that your brother finally calls it a day? He had promised to be home two hours ago but he's still not home. Seeing he is pulling a late night working for you once again, maybe you can convince him that it's not that important to go without sleep and food once again."
Charlie had been working on Don's case? What was he thinking? Of course Charlie had. Charlie always went out of his way to get whatever equation Don asked him for done. No matter what else he had to do with his considerable work load. He shook his head, pushing that thought away. Later. He'd think about it later. When Charlie was okay again. Maybe he'd go for a hike with him. Or make a little sailing turn, his treat. But first Charlie had to get better again. And he needed to tell their father.
Right.
"Dad, don't worry, okay?"
"Worry?" Don could literally hear the frown in his father's voice. "Why should I worry?"
Shit, he was not doing a good job at this. "Dad, Charlie…" Oh, what the hell. "Charlie was attacked tonight, Dad. Some guys ganged up on him and gave him a pretty bad beating. He called me and I went to pick him up. We're at the hospital now and he's being checked out by the doctors as we speak. But he's going to be fine, Dad."
He'd better be, Don thought darkly.
There was a long pause of silence, so long that Don actually got worried that his father may have suffered a heart attack. "Dad?"
"Which hospital?"
Oh. "Dad, you don't have to…"
"Don – which hospital?" his father interrupted him.
Knowing that tone, Don hung his head. "Ceaders, Dad."
"I'm on my way," his dad told him shortly.
Don sighed. "At least let me call someone to give you a ride, Dad, you shouldn't drive…"
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," his father interrupted him once again and already, the dial tone sounded into Don's ear.
Sighing deeply again, Don put away his phone and turned back towards David, making a face. "Dad will be here in twenty minutes," he murmured, unhappy.
Quickly, David bowed his head so his boss wouldn't see his smile.
By the time Alan arrived, a doctor at last had come out to give Don a summary of Charlie's condition. Don had hoped to hear better news, but Charlie's condition was stable and he would be fine and that was the most important thing.
At least that was what Don kept telling himself. As well as the doctor and David.
Still... It wasn't okay. Charlie should never have gotten into this condition in the first place! And if they'd have beaten him for just a bit longer or even more harder...
"Donnie!"
Relieved at the interruption of his dark thoughts, Don turned around to see his father hurrying towards him. "Dad."
"How is he?" Alan wanted to know, a bit breathless, his eyes betraying his worry and fear.
"He's going to be fine, Dad," Don reassured him, laying a hand on his father's shoulder - as much to draw comfort for him as well as to comfort his father. "This is Dr Sanchez. He has just assured me of that himself, right? Doctor, this is my father, Alan Eppes."
"Mr Eppes," Dr Sanchez nodded. "As I was just telling your son, Charlie's doing pretty good, under the conditions. It will take a while until all is healed, and I won't lie, it will be hurtful for him, but we expect a full recovery."
Don could see that his father wanted more details, but as he thought it better that Alan didn't get to hear the long list of injuries Don had just been told, he quickly asked the question he knew would distract his father from his questions. At least for the moment. "Can we go see him now?"
Besides, that was what he himself really needed: to see for himself that Charlie was still alive and going to be okay. As expected, Alan looked back at the doctor eagerly as well.
"We're almost finished with patching him up. As soon as he's ready, we'll move him into ICU." Seeing the alarm in the Eppes' eyes, Dr Sanchez hurried to continue. "Just for a safety measure. We'd like to keep an eye on him for the next twenty-four hours, just to be sure that there won't be any aneurysm or swelling of the brain. It's standard procedure for a type 2 concussion, not to mention that we want to keep a close eye on the bruised liver and punctured lung."
Don had already known about the more serious damages that had been done to Charlie. His father not though and he paled considerably. Quickly, Don stepped closer to him so he could support him should his father suddenly feel week and squeezed Alan's shoulder. "He's going to be fine, Dad," he murmured.
Sanchez must have heard him as well, because he nodded. "Like said, it's just precaution. As soon as he's settled, you can visit him. But just five minutes and only one at a time."
Alan and Don both grimaced at that. That was not what they wanted to hear.
"Can we talk to him?" asked David and Don glanced at him, momentarily having forgotten that he was there as well. His question though brought him straight back to reality. He knew David had to ask. In fact, he should have been the first to ask this very question. It was important to talk to Charlie, the sooner the better.
He knew all that.
And none of it mattered. His little brother was badly hurt and all he needed now was rest, not being interrogated!
But the agent in him was still enough in charge to let him keep his mouth shut, waiting tensely for the doctor's decision. Were it anyone but Charlie in there, he would insist on talking to him as well, he kept repeating himself. They needed to hear if Charlie could tell them anything more about his attackers than what little he had been able to tell Don already. And he trusted David. He knew David would be gentle with him and not distressing Charlie any further. Still... It was Charlie in there and the big brother in him was strongly against letting anyone but himself, his father and the necessary medical personal near him again until he was feeling better.
His father glared at David as well, but Doctor Sanchez' answer apprehended him from any comments he may have made. "I fear that won't be possible, Agent Sinclair. Only immediate relatives are allowed into ICU. Besides, I doubt Charlie would be able to answer your questions anyway. We have him heavily sedated and if he wakes up at all, I doubt that he can give lucid answers. You'll have to wait until he's out of ICU."
David glanced at the Eppes men and just nodded. Normally, Don would have a word to say about him giving up so easily. Once again though, he stayed silent. He wasn't David's boss at the moment after all. Instead, he was the victim's brother.
A role he didn't like at all. Not only because it meant that Charlie was hurt - but he didn't like to feel this helpless. He didn't know how ordinary people did this. He was FBI, even if no one was going to let him do any investigation, interrogation or even an arrest, he would still be privy to the investigation and was sure that his team would tell him when they were going to bust these bastards that had done this to Charlie. And he was pretty sure that they were going to look away when he had to say a word or two to Charlie's attackers, as long as he didn't lose it. An ordinary had nothing of that, could only sit by the loved one's side and hope that the police would be able to deliver justice to those responsible. He had it way better than them, thank God. And still he couldn't help but feel helpless. He hadn't been able to help Charlie much and now he couldn't do much to find the bastards responsible.
"I have to return to my patient now, but like said, it shouldn't take that long anymore," Dr Sanchez spoke again. "I'll send a nurse for you, once Charlie's ready."
"Thank you, Doctor," Alan said with much relief and gratitude.
"Come on, Dad," Don said and led his father over to where he and David had waited for news not that long before. He was still too restless to sit still, but he wanted his father to sit and so forced himself to sit tight, David following them. He had expected to be bombarded with questions now, but surprisingly, his father had nothing to ask. At least not for now.
Don was glad about it. He had no real answers and nor was he in the mood to list all of Charlie's injuries either.
In silence, they waited for someone to come get them.
It didn't take long. Approximately twenty minutes later, the nurse finally came to bring one of them to Charlie. "Go on ahead, Dad," Don just said, knowing that his father needed to see Charlie the most. Besides, he'd have his turn in a few moments anyway. He could wait that long.
Alan disappeared with the nurse after a short squeeze of Don's shoulder and once again, silence fell on the ones left waiting. When he came back, Don frowned at the slow steps of his father and the suddenly pale complexion of him, looking years older than he actually was. Even more disturbed him the fact that Alan avoided to look at him though. First making sure that his father was settled in his chair and that David would stay with him, Don too finally followed the nurse that would bring him to his brother.
His father's reaction should have warned him. His years as an agent should have prepared him. Heaven knew that he had seen much worse during his time with the FBI.
But it hadn't. And seeing his little brother stretched out in the ICU hospital bed, hooked up to various machines, pale as a ghost but to the bruises left on his skin and looking just so - broken - he was taught better: Yes, he had seen worse inflected on human beings, children even. But seeing Charlie like this was still worse than anything he had ever seen in his job.
Swallowing, he gritted his teeth and stepped to the bed, tentatively taking Charlie's hand into his, squeezing gently. "Hey, Buddy."
No answer, just the steady beeping of the monitors surrounding Charlie. Grinding his teeth even more together, so much that his jaw actually started to hurt, Don's eyes slid over the skinny figure of his brother laying in front of him while Dr Sanchez' words echoed in his mind. Heavy concussion type 2, danger of brain swelling, a punctured lung by one of the three broken ribs, a bruised liver, two more rips badly bruised, a sprained fibula and of course, a body full of bruises.
His free hand gripped the bed rest tightly, his knuckles standing out white.
Then there were all the ifs: If the beating had continued for longer, if there had been only one attacker more, if Don hadn't gotten to Charlie so fast, calling for the ambulance, if they had kicked a bit higher here or a bit more to the right there, if they had stolen his cell phone along with his wallet, if Charlie hadn't regained consciousness as fast as he had, if he hadn't curled up to protect his vital parts... if, if, if and all of those ifs leading to the most probable loss of his baby brother.
He felt bile rising up, but swallowed it down.
A soft knock from the nurse against the door reminded him that his time was up.
Already? He felt like he had just come in. Then again, five minutes weren't long.
Holding up a finger, he nodded and leaned down, smoothing away some of Charlie's curls, much like back in the corridor in front of Charlie's office. "You get better fast, you hear me, Charlie? Dad's really worried, you know.." He swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I promise you, Charlie, we'll get these bastards. And they will pay for what they did to you. I swear this to you, Charlie."
Again a knock, stronger this time.
"I've got to go now, Buddy. But Dad and I, we're just outside. We'll be back as soon as we can. Hang tight, okay?" Don whispered and with a sigh, straightened up again, reluctantly letting go of his brother's hand. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay here and make sure that Charlie knew that he was there, that no one would be able to harm him again. He just wanted to be with Charlie, feel his nearness.
Taking a deep breath, Don fought his emotions down for the umpteenth time this night, schooled his features into his well trained unmoved FBI-mask and with a last, lingering glance at his brother, he turned to leave the room quietly.
His father looked up at him, anger but mostly confusion written all over his face. "Who would do anything like that to Charlie?" he whispered, aghast.
Slowly, Don shook his head. "I don't know, Dad. But I intend to find out." His gaze wandered to David, still being there, and his eyes hardened with cold rage. With a short movement of his head he ordered him to follow him and led him into the almost empty hallway.
"Don, you know we're doing everything we can to find Charlie's attackers," David told him the second he faced him.
Don gave a tight nod. "I know. You all know what to do. I expect a report every twelve hours plus copies of all reports and statements. I'll stay the night and probably most of tomorrow as well, if Merrick's all right with that." He hesitated a moment. "Megan should stay on the Paxton case though. Charlie's been working on it as well, perhaps they didn't want him to finish his work, so you should check into that. I think he finished the equation, at least that was what I understood from his words. I haven't checked for it, so you'll need to do that, if just to nail Paxton. Amita and Larry helped him I think, should you need help understanding it. I want you to work primarily on Charlie's attack though."
Not even dreaming of protesting, David nodded.
Don's eyes darkened. "The second you get a lead on the bastards, you call me."
This time, David squirmed. "Don..."
"I promise I won't kill anybody if I don't have to," Don interrupted him, his voice low and calm. A shiver ran over David's back. "But I want to be in in the bust. I owe those bastard low lives a few words, David." His eyes shone with a deep burning fire. "No one gets away with doing that to my little brother," he stated icily.
David took one look at Don's eyes and nodded. "I'll call," he promised. He wasn't suicidal and contradicting Don now would just be that. Suicidal. Besides - Don really deserved to have a go at Charlie's attackers. And he and Megan and Colby would make sure he wouldn't get in trouble over it and keep an eye on it.
Almost, he felt sorry for the culprits.
Almost.
If they hadn't hurt one of their team. And Don was right: no one got away with that.
So after Don had his turn, he was sure the team too would have a few words to say to the guys beating up their very own math consultant.
TBC!
(Author's Note: Once again, many thanks for the great reviews! I hope you liked the third installment. And I hope I got it more or less right: the only medical experience I have is watching medical series like House and reading a bit on the internet. Three more parts to go!)