Aftermath
"Aw, man!"
For a millisecond, Don tensed, automatically reaching for his service piece while searching for the threat and possible cover from it, before his brain processed and identified the startled groan as the voice of his brother and he relaxed as he registered the person on the couch as Charlie, furiously blinking at the sudden light Don had turned on after silently entering the living room.
The recognition was followed by shock that he actually had been about to draw his gun against Charlie, even if it had been just for the break of a second. The shock had barely a chance to manifest when it was quickly replaced by terror and fear that he apparently was so on edge that he even reacted blindly here in his own childhood home. To his own brother. If Charlie had done anything more provoking than just sit unexpectedly on the couch...
God...
And Charlie wasn't even to blame for this as he hadn't triggered Don's reaction at all, at least not on his own fault. It wasn't like he had sneaked up on Don, something he knew he wasn't to do, ever, and most especially not when Don was armed - which was most of the time.
Of course, if he hadn't been sitting here in the dark, not letting anyone know that he was there by, hell, turning on the light or at least the television...
Right.
Falling back onto anger, Don glared at his brother, stalking over to him. "Jeez, Charlie! What the hell are you doing here in the dark? Have you any idea what a scare you just gave me?"
Still blinking slightly, Charlie gave back the glare. "You got scared? Make that two of us. Why are you sneaking into the house like a burglar, scaring the beejees out of me?"
Don gritted his teeth. "I was trying to be considerate of my family apparently sleeping. How was I to know that you weren't in bed doing just that when you didn't bother to turn on the light?" Taking a harsh but deep breath, Don let it out again and finally allowed his body and mind to relax - and become aware of the implication of the whole situation. "What are you doing up and sitting in the dark anyway?" he asked, much gentler, searching his brother's face for lines of distress or even pain. It had been three weeks since the attack, two weeks since Charlie had been back home.
It had been long three weeks, for both of them, and he wasn't surprised to see the familiar shadow in Charlie's eyes nor that he didn't give Don an answer. He didn't need to. His little brother had handled the aftermath of the attack pretty good, better than anyone had expected, but he was still plagued by nightmares about the night. Not too bad ones according to Charlie, but nightmare was nightmare.
Sighing, Don left Charlie on the couch and went into the kitchen, grabbing a beer for himself and a soda for Charlie. He also checked the refrigerator for leftovers and blessed his father when he found a heavenly looking roast beef sandwich, already on a tray. With his loot in his arms, he went back into the living room, removing his jacket, wallet, badge and holster before sitting down beside Charlie, keeping his gun with him though.
He never let the gun be out of reach around Charlie anymore, his fear that Charlie's attackers may try it again too great, no matter how hard the agent in him harassed the brother in him to not be so paranoid.
They were still out there and for now, Don just needed to be sure that Charlie was safe from them. So he had installed a new security system in the house, without asking Charlie fist which resulted in quite a fight. But the alarm was set in place. Without asking he also had spent every night he hadn't been working at home rather than at his own apartment, the same with the little free time he had had these past weeks. And for the time he wasn't home, he had hired a private security firm to keep watch over the house. Which had gotten him into another fight with Charlie. Nor had he allowed Charlie going to his various appointments by himself, always making sure that he was with him and if he couldn't, with someone else he trusted to keep his brother safe. And yes, Charlie had fought him on that too.
Actually, he and Charlie had had quite a few arguments these past few weeks. And as long as Charlie didn't come to his senses, this probably wasn't going to stop anytime soon. It didn't help that their father was getting more and more unnerved by their bickering and had talked to both of them to stop always arguing either. The last time his dad had confronted Don, he had even threatened to ground the both of them. Not that he had a chance to actually do this anymore. But still - his father could be scary.
Very scary.
And Don was absolutely sure that their Dad would find a way to actually really punish his sons for their impossible behavior as he had worded it.
But Don couldn't help it. He was in his rights in this matter. After all, all he wanted was to protect his little brother and make sure that the bastards who had hurt him wouldn't get to him again.
Once they were behind bars, he could lighten up on the security again.
Too bad they weren't any closer to finding Charlie's attackers than they had been the night of Charlie's attack.
Not really wanting to dwell on that, he turned on the television, settled back and enjoyed his sandwich.
And waited.
He and Charlie may fight a lot - but they did talk a lot as well these past weeks and he knew that when his brother sat here in the dark like he had been, then there was something he needed to talk about.
"I'm a bit nervous about tomorrow."
Don looked away from the TV show currently running to glance at his brother, whose eyes were settled on the screen, unfocused though. Well, Charlie wasn't the only one being nervous about the next day. Didn't mean Don had to let on on that though. "Relax, Buddy, it's going to be fine," he instead reassured Charlie, nudging him a bit, still careful of his ribs.
While most of Charlie's injuries had healed just fine and most bruises had faded, Don just couldn't help but still be careful while touching his brother, the sight of him broken and terribly hurt never far away.
Charlie sighed. "You think."
Don nodded, flashing him a grin. "Sure."
"What if they all act weird, walking around egg shells around me?" his brother though worried on. "I really don't need or want that. All I want is everything being normal again."
Don ignored the obvious jab at him and shook his head. "Charlie, it will," he simply said, hoping that his words were true. "Look, maybe they will be careful around you in the beginning, but I'm sure as soon as you get rid of the crutches and move around like the nervous energy bundle you usually are, things will return to normalcy. And you'll wish them being more mindful of you again."
"I guess," Charlie grumbled with a sigh, crossing his arms. "And I guess I'll have to thank them for all the cards and gifts as well," he added darkly.
Don grinned, thinking of the boxes filled with get well cards and the many stuff animals Charlie had received, mostly from his students, but also from friends and colleagues, embarassing the hell out of his little brother. It looked like Charlie was indeed well liked by everyone. Which was part of the problem finding the bastards, no one even having a hint of who could have done this to Charlie.
Again, Don pushed that thought away. "That's up to you, but I think Mom would definitely have a word to say to you if you don't. As it is, I would be careful: I'm pretty sure Dad has his spies at CalSci, reporting everything back to him," he advised Charlie good-naturedly.
"Don't I know it," muttered Charlie, then lit up a bit by nudging Don back. "I'm just glad he has them in the FBI as well. Are you sure in that file of Dad nothing is mentioned of him being a double spy or something like that?"
"Hey, I'm not the one with the top security level!" Don protested, wriggling his eyebrows. "If anyone can access his whole file it's you, not me."
Charlie rolled his eyes. "Like I'm stupid enough to risk my life like that, top security or not."
Don chuckled and they fell into companionable silence, watching the TV show.
"Don?"
"Hmm?"
"Will you do me a favor?"
Listening up at the tone in Charlie's voice, Don forgot about the show and concentrated back onto his brother. "What favor?"
"Will you come with me to CalSci?" Charlie asked quietly, meeting his brother's eyes nervously.
Puzzled, Don raised an eyebrow. "I already told you that I'll bring you tomorrow for your first day back. Unless there's a terrorist attack, nothing will keep me from doing that."
But Charlie shook his head. "No. No, I don't mean tomorrow. I mean right now."
Turning off the sound at the television, Don sat up and turned to Charlie, frowning. "Why?" he demanded to know, not bothering to ask Charlie if he had heard right or not or reminding him that it was nearly two thirty in the morning - or demanding to know what the hell he was thinking, having this harebrained idea. He knew his brother. Charlie wouldn't have brought this up without having good reasons - at least in his eyes.
Charlie avoided to look into his eyes. "It's just that I'm really worried a bit about my reaction to be back. I mean, I'm fine, better than I anticipated to be after something like that happening and I think I'm ready to go back tomorrow - but then again, how can I not be fine in this fortress you made out of my home, with you constantly swarming around me like a nervous mother hen?" Charlie turned his head to meet Don's eyes and the worry and fear in them let Don's comeback about the comparison to a mother hen die on his lips. "What if I walk back into CalSci and the moment I come into sight of my office I get flashbacks or worse, a panic attack? Don, it's already bad enough coming back with everyone there knowing what happened to me that night - I really don't want to risk losing it in front of an audience on top of that." He took a deep breath. "So I want to go there, now, getting it over with, whatever my reaction will be." Before Don could reply anything, Charlie got up and looked down at him, pleading in his eyes. "Are you coming with me now or not?"
Don held his brother's eyes for a long moment. He hated to see the fear and uncertainty in the usual so confident dark eyes of Charlie, but he also saw the sincerity and determination there to do this now. The puppy dog eyes he ignored. They weren't necessary. As if he'd let Charlie go to CalSci out of all places on his own. No, it was seeing the need he saw in Charlie to do this, now, that made him get up silently, already grabbing his seven things again. "I'll go get your jacket."
Relief and slight surprise flooded Charlie's face at Don's lack of protest. "I can get my own jacket, thank you very much," he then protested though, hobbling towards the lobby.
"Charlie, I'm tired and not especially looking forward to going out again," Don told him with a slight glare. "So please don't make this difficult. I'm getting your jacket and you'll leave a note for Dad, just in case. And where are your crutches?" he wanted to know with a frown, looking around for them. "You're not supposed to move without them yet."
"I'm fine," Charlie muttered, changing direction to hobble over to the dining room table to write the note.
"The doctors have their reasons for their instructions," Don lectured impatiently, spotting the crutches behind the couch and bringing them over to Charlie, holding them out to him. "So do as you're told."
"I remember a certain someone getting himself released from the hospital against the doctor's strong protest. What was with following doctor's instructions then?" Charlie gave back, ignoring the crutches.
"That was then, me and totally different, this is now, you and will you just take the damn things?" Don shrugged, shoving them into Charlie's hands. "Or you can forget about this trip," he threatened with an afterthought, thinking that that would probably bring Charlie more to his senses than anything else Don could say.
Sure enough, Charlie finally accepted them, muttering under his breath though. Contented, Don left to go hunt for his brother's jacket. When he returned, Charlie took it, hesitated suddenly though, taking a closer look at his brother. He sighed. "Look, perhaps this isn't such a great idea. We should probably better just go to bed and catch a bit of sleep."
"And you're only thinking of this now, after sending me all over the place in order to get us ready to go?" Don asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry."
Don shook his head and sighed. He knew Charlie just tried to be considerate - he must look worse than he had thought. But this was just ridiculous. Clearly, Charlie needed this or he wouldn't have asked Don to do this and after everything that had happened, he really shouldn't think of the exhaustion level of his big brother. "It's all right, Charlie. I don't mind going."
Charlie looked doubtful. "You sure?"
"Positive," Don nodded. "Now, let's not waste more time and go."
This time, Charlie hobbled after him without another comment, dutifully using the crutches.
At least something had worked with the guilt trip he had sent his brother on, Don thought with a smirk.
The closer they got to his office, the more he felt Don tense beside him. Strangely, Charlie felt nothing at all.
Not that he complained about that. It was just unexpected. After the shooting in Don's office, he hadn't even been able to enter the whole damn building for a while and now here he was, so far not in the slightest way feeling panicked about being only few feet away from the spot where he had been beaten half to death three weeks ago.
While his brother on the other hand, always confident and the stand-up-guy, looked as if he'd rather be in an open shoot out with gangs, terrorist and a bunch of snipers together than be anywhere near this corridor.
If Charlie believed into the twilight zone, this definitely would be accurate to make him think that he had landed there or perhaps even in a parallel universe. But of course, he didn't believe in those things and he certainly would need more to convince him otherwise than just his and his brother's strange reactions.
Then again, who knew? Perhaps, the reaction everyone expected out of him would come the moment he stepped around the next corner and he'd see the crime scene for the first time since that night. And his reaction in turn would most probably snap Don out of his nervous state of mind to concentrate on taking care of his little brother and everything would be all right in this universe again.
Charlie slowed down, suddenly nervous.
"You okay?"
Startled at Don's quiet words, he glanced at him and offered a reassuring smile. "Yeah, sure."
He had hoped that would convince Don but wasn't surprised to see that Don frowned, looking more closely at him. "You know, you don't need to do this."
"Yes, I have to," Charlie just protested and turned the corner. He really had to. This was his place of work. And tomorrow, there was likely to be a big bunch of people waiting here for him to welcome him back and Charlie surely wasn't going to risk having a panic attack in front of his students and fellow professors.
Not that he really expected anything to happen. He couldn't explain it, but he just wasn't all that worried about it. Not about going back, actually being rather relieved at getting out of the house and hopefully also away from Don's vigil of these past weeks, nor about his attackers being still out there. Contrary to Don, he doubted strongly that they would try anything again. And while he would have indeed liked to know who his attacker were and why they had felt the need to beet the crap out of him, he found himself accepting rather easily the more than likely possibility that nothing of that was ever going to happen.
Again, very contrary to his brother.
Glancing at Don, he frowned when he saw the slightly dazed eyes of his brother staring towards where Charlie had been attacked. Looking over himself, Charlie braced himself, just in case.
Nothing happened.
No flashbacks, no echo of harsh whispered hateful names, no memories, no accelerated heart beat, no harsh breathing, no sudden pressure on his chest or lungs, no walls closing in on him.
Simply nothing.
It was just the corridor and his office door, a sight he had seen a few billion times in the years he taught here at CalSi.
It was sort of - anticlimactic, Charlie mused as he moved forward, coming to a stop in front of his office to stare down, curiously. Of course no traces of the attack were left and once again, he did not get a flashback of himself lying here with blows raining down on him. It looked as if that was only reserved for the nightmares he still had and he was really relieved to not have to worry about continuing to work here anymore.
He could deal with the nightmares, the only real affect the attack had left with him - well, other than the injuries. Perhaps because even the nightmares weren't as bad as he had feared it and he strongly suspected that that was because Don had made him talk about them right from the beginning, after having had had his first nightmare about the attack. There had been two nights this week when he even had slept through peacefully.
All in all, he found he really had survived and handled this attack pretty good. And yes, he was a little proud of himself, knowing that not so long ago, he would have been a complete mess after something like this happening.
Once again, he wondered what had brought on this change. Was it being confronted with more and more violence, passive or impassive? Had his increased work with the FBI strengthened his self-confidence? Or was it perhaps the constant example to follow he had in front of his eyes with having Don back in LA for all those years, seeing how calmly he could face everything work and fate threw at him and unconsciously learning part of that from his big brother? Or had he perhaps just finally grown up for good over the last few years?
Charlie wasn't sure what it was or perhaps what combination of factors might have led him to be able to be so calm about the attack, he just welcomed it. Well, with time he sure would try to analyze it deeper, perhaps integrating it into his work on the Cognitive Emergence. But for now he was simply glad about it and concentrated on moving on and getting his life back.
Of course in order to do that, the people in his life had to get behind this as well, he thought resigned and looked back at Don who still stood just around the corner, staring blindly at the floor in front of Charlie's office.
Megan had said to give Don time to deal with it all. But it was three weeks and if anything, it had gotten worse, Don being more and more paranoid about his security with each passing day. Last Monday he had even told Charlie he would help him get a license to carry a concealed weapon. As if he wanted to walk around with a gun strapped on. He was a professor for Heaven's sake, he couldn't put his student's lives in danger like that! Not to mention that he still didn't like guns or believed in them. Okay, he had continued to take some shooting lessons after the sniper case, not just to get a better idea of all the factors involved but also to be able to handle guns should he ever come into the situation to need to use one. Something he hoped never to have to do - mostly because he figured the most probable cause for him having to handle a gun would be because Don couldn't and everyone knowing Don knew that that only happened when he was seriously hurt or worse. But still, if Don's or someone else's life depended on him knowing how to shoot then okay, he could learn that. This didn't mean though that he ever wanted to own a gun himself.
And Charlie had thought that perhaps, agreeing to take up a few self defense lessons would calm down Don. It wouldn't be his first. Actually, he already had gone through several lessons, the first time back at College, after his mom had moved back to LA and let him be alone, tired of always serving as a punching bag for frat boys. Then later, when he had started consulting, Bob had insisted on him taking some more lessons. He had had his last course years ago though and the way Charlie saw it, it couldn't hurt to actually refresh his memory, especially when it would help get him Don off his back.
Considering Don's last suggestion and also his reaction to returning to the crime scene, Charlie doubted though that some self defense lessons would do the deal. He wished he could help Don to get over this, but he didn't know how. They had talked about the attack and Don had said the things he had wanted to say about Charlie's lack of care in the security department. Charlie had listened, argued on the just ridiculous points and agreed on the more sensible points. Their dad had tried to talk to Don. Megan had. Colby and David had. Hell, Charlie had even sent Larry to talk to his pigheaded brother, knowing that sometimes Don actually understood the point behind Larry's often not quite reasonable words. When that had failed, he had suggested to Don to talk with his shrink about it - that had not gone well, Don being pissed for days. And yet, Don was still in his worst bodyguard mode.
But something had to happen. This couldn't continue like this.
It wasn't just the nuisance Don's security obsession meant for Charlie - if absolutely necessary, he could live with that. No, he was more worried about Don himself. Don hadn't gotten much sleep since the attack and it was starting to take a toll on him, Charlie could see that. And right now, Don was definitely not aware of his surroundings, caught in the flashback he obviously suffered. Something that scared Charlie deeply, knowing how dangerous such a thing was in his brother's line of duty.
Sooner or later, something was going to happen, Charlie was sure of that. Numbers don't lie after all.
And if something happened to Don because of this attack... he may have done well, dealing with this attack, but Charlie knew without a single doubt in his mind that he wouldn't be able to deal with Don getting hurt because of him or even worse...
No. He wasn't going to think about this now. Besides, Megan had said that during the job, Don was still the same, acting cool-headed and with as much precaution as possible. It was only his mood that had suffered and making life a bit harder for Don's co-workers. And this was Don after all, his strong, fearless big brother, against whom no one and nothing could get the upper hand. Surely, he would soon see reason and let go of his paranoia concerning Charlie's safety. He just had to!
And for now, Charlie was there. He may not be able to make Don snap out of it - but he sure as hell could be there for him and prove him every day that he was still there, alive, the same as always. And he'd watch out for his big brother while he dealt with whatever issues that plagued him so much.
Right.
"Don?" he called out, softly.
Don needed a moment, but then he blinked, his eyes focusing on his brother. "You okay?" he asked again.
Charlie nodded, wisely not giving that question right back at him. Don's answer would be that he was fine anyway. "Yeah, everything's all right. I'm good to go for tomorrow."
His brother nodded and slowly moved forward to come to stand beside Charlie, giving his back a reassuring slap. "Good." Looking down for a moment, Charlie recognized the investigator mode immediately when Don's eyes returned to him. "Remember anything more?"
With a sigh, Charlie shook his head. "No. I don't think there's more to remember. I've told you all I know time and time again already."
"Sometimes victims remember more details after returning to the scene where they've been assaulted," Don lectured him, the FBI agent fully in charge.
"I know that," Charlie replied, only slightly exasperated. "But coming back here doesn't change the fact that I simply haven't seen much when it had happened or that the very first blows already messed with my perception of the following minutes until I lost consciousness altogether. I told everything I remember and everything I assume from what the nightmares had brought on." He shook his head. "Things like this happen all the time. And you know better than me that the chance to catch the people responsible for an attack like mine are always slim to non-existent. Why can't you just accept this and let it go?"
Don's eyes bored into him. "Because it is not the same," he finally said after a long moment, turning away abruptly. "Come on, now that you've done what you needed to do, let's go home while we still have a chance to get at least some hours of sleep in."
Sighing deeply again, Charlie stared after his brother's retreating back, hurrying away from this place as if the hounds of hell were after him. Grimacing, he started to hobble after him.
His hand hovering over the but of his gun, Don walked through the silent corridors, his eyes penetrating into every corner, his ears listening for any unusual sounds.
All stayed quiet.
He asked himself for the hundredth time if he was relieved or rather disappointed by that. Part of him was definitely glad that so far, no sign of another attempt on Charlie's life had occurred, but a great part of him really wished that they would try it again so he could bust them, put them away for a long time and finally be sure that Charlie had nothing to fear from those bastards anymore.
Not that his brother seemed to be much worried about another attack, making him way too careless about his own security once again in Don's opinion. The little idiot refused to listen to most of his brother's lectures about security measures. Not as if he as a seasoned FBI agent would have any idea about how to keep yourself accurately safe, Don thought darkly, rounding the last corner.
For just a second, his mind flashed back to almost three months prior when he had rounded this very corner to find his brother lying on the floor, not knowing if he was still alive or not.
He had become to hate this corner. So much that he sometimes took the other way, even though it was one hell of a detour. But everything was better than to relive this terrible moment over and over again.
And every time it happened, like now, he told himself to get a grip on himself and get over it. To forget it and just move on, like everyone told him to do.
But he couldn't.
Not completely.
Oh, he had come to terms with it, more or less. He was long since back at work, back at fighting crime and hauling guilty people into jail. His temper had evened out and he wasn't as short-tempered anymore as he had been right after the attack on Charlie. Hell, he had even talked about it with Bradshaw a couple of times in the end, despite his instinctive rejection of the very idea of it when Charlie had first suggested that.
Mostly, his life was back to normal.
Mostly.
If it weren't for these flashbacks and the nightmares. Or this irrational fear about Charlie that he just wasn't able to shake off anymore.
Then again, was it really so irrational?
They had never caught the bastards beating up Charlie, never finding out who it had been or why. The most likely theory was still that it were some white idiots believing to be superior than anyone who didn't meet their precious standards. They had looked for connections between the campus and the National Alliance, and while they had been able to find some people, they all had checked out with an alibi and they simply couldn't pursue any possible connections to those people simply on a hunch.
Basically, Don had to admit that probably, they would never find out who had attacked his little brother, nearly killing him, or why exactly for that matter.
This was a bitter pill for Don to swallow and to be frank, the pill was still stuck in his throat, even after the two months that had passed since the attack. He hated this, he hated it with a passion. Of course he knew that there was still a great deal of crimes that never got solved. He himself had some open cases he never had been able to close, though no one lately. If he thought about it, not one since Charlie started to help them out and propelling the solving rate of Don's team into unknown heights. Not that he had done bad before that. He always had had a good solving rate, thanks to his pretty good gut instinct and sharp intellect, one of the reasons why he had moved up in the ranks so quickly and now being a well respected field agent and team leader. But with his brother and his incredible mind joining them they were nearly unstoppable.
Just because of this he could hardly support that the one crime that had threatened to affected Don's life the most was the one case he couldn't solve, the one culprit he couldn't catch. And because he had failed in his job, as a big brother to protect Charlie and also as a FBI agent to then solve at least the case, the men nearly killing his brother were still out there, undisturbed and able to go after Charlie again whenever they wanted to.
Not if he had a say about this, Don reminded himself grimly and closed the short distance between him and Charlie's door. He briefly knocked as not to startle him (not that that was really of any use) and tried the door. When it opened smoothly, he scowled and entered.
Sure enough, there was his little brother, bouncing in front of a white board, his hand flying over the board, headphones over his ears playing whatever music Charlie had wanted to listen to in undoubtedly much higher levels than it was good for the eardrums. For a moment, Don watched him, the bundle of nervous energy that never seemed to power down that was his brother. Well, used to always be full of life. Don could very well remember the night he had seen him crushed here on the floor and then lying impossible still in a hospital bed.
Damn it!
It was over! Charlie had survived, his injuries had healed and he was back to his two hundred percent self, nothing able to stop that overactive amazing brain of his, back to being the annoying little brother Don had known all his life. Why could Don not appreciate that rather than remembering that horrible night whenever he saw Charlie again, especially here at CalSci?
He had to get over it, somehow, he knew that, but in the face of the danger of losing Charlie, this was not exactly easy.
Right. He was here for a reason.
Gritting his teeth, Don went over to him and, knowing better than to try to get his brother's attention by merely calling out to him, he touched him on the shoulder and turned off the MP3 played.
"Time to go home, Chuck," he told him firmly.
Charlie only glanced at him briefly, his eyes betraying that he hardly was in this realm yet, still too much engrossed in his numbers. "Just a moment, I need to finish this."
"And I need to get some sleep," Don contradicted and took the marker out of Charlie's hand. "Now come on, hurry up."
Charlie blinked and it took him a moment, but he came up from the depth of high mathematic to finally look back at his brother with clear eyes - and annoyed. "Then go home, Don, and let me finish my work here. If I remember correctly, I haven't asked you to come pick me up, have I?"
"Let's not have this discussion again, Charlie," Don tried to put an early stop to the argument he knew was coming. "Just pack your things and let's go."
No such luck though as the stupid dork of his brother of course had to argue back. "Don, you know I love you, but for the last time, you're my big brother, not my father, not my keeper or even my bodyguard and sure as hell not my boss so you are in no place whatsoever to tell me what to do or not, certainly not regarding my work hours. I'm not finished yet and I won't leave before I haven't finished this," Charlie fumed, pointing at the equations on the board.
"You and I both know that you'll be able to finish whatever this is as well at home as you can do it here, if it's really so important," Don pointed out. "Now will you just please come and let me drive you home?"
"No."
Don narrowed his eyes, truly losing his patience. If this was what was having children like he could very well live without them. "Charlie."
But Charlie just met his brother's eyes square and fearless. "Don't Charlie me. This is important and urgent. And no, I can't work this from home because once I have the preliminary math done, I'm going to need to run it through the super computer. And no, this can't wait until tomorrow morning, and not just because it's booked from five o'clock straight to 10 pm. So please, just go home and let me do my job."
Don looked back at the board. God, he was tired. He was dead on his feet, having had thrown himself into catching the guys he could and getting in little sleep. Part of him just wanted to cave in. But he couldn't.
He wasn't going to get a call like that again. He wasn't going to ever have to see his brother like that again.
On the other hand though, he wasn't tired enough to not catch up onto the subtext of Charlie's words. "What's this anyway?" he asked mistrustfully, nodding at the board.
"Something that can't wait," Charlie evasively said but the time he took to answer more or less answered Don's question already.
Shit.
Some government case then. He bet NSA. They loved to waltz into his brother's life and demand his immediate attention, no matter the consequences for his life or security. He could never get Charlie to leave under these circumstances - nor would he be able to leave him behind, alone and unprotected, now not only his assailants a possible threat.
Resigned, Don looked around. "You really need a couch in here," he muttered, sauntering past Charlie to sit down onto his desk chair once he had slipped out of his jacket and hang it around the chair.
"What do you think you're doing?"
At that stupid question, Don just sent him a glare.
His face darkening, Charlie shook his head vehemently and stepped towards him. "Oh no. You're not staying!"
"Not my first choice either, Chuck," Don replied sarcastically and leant back, putting his feet onto the desk, moving his gun from its holster to his lap. Still, it wasn't very comfortable. "That's why you need a couch in here so there's at least one option a bit more comfortable than these chairs."
"I'm here to work. And I need to concentrate for which I need to be alone. Seriously, Don. You can't stay here. Go home, sleep. Or go for a beer. I don't care. Just go away," Charlie insisted, glaring at him.
"You know this is not going to happen. And don't pretend that me being here can seriously disturb your concentration. As soon as you've put back on your headphones you're lost to the real world," Don simply told him, shifting to find a more comfortable position. "So why don't you go back to your math? The sooner you finish this, the sooner we get out of here."
But Charlie threw the headphones onto the desk with pretty much force. "Damn it, Don!" he cursed, leaning onto the desk to glare at him. "This has finally got to stop! Since that stupid attack happened you're just not reasonable anymore! You drive me all around the city, bringing me here or to the FBI, driving me home again and if you're unavailable, you send a poor guy from that ridiculous security service you hired. This is simply ridiculous! I need my life back and you, you need to get a life!"
"This is not up for discussion, Charlie," Don replied tiredly, glancing at the door. "Which reminds me, why was your door unlocked again? I told you to keep it locked when you're here late and alone." He pointed at the board. "Especially when you're working on a sensitive case. Do you want to make it easy for anyone trying to get to you?"
"No, but I refuse to live in a prison as well," Charlie pressed out through gritted teeth.
Don rolled his eyes. "Locking your door as a precaution measure is hardly comparable to a prison."
"But all this is! You sticking to me like glue or having someone else on me all the time, you ordering me around, robbing me of my own choices. I don't like to work in locked spaces, especially if they're small like my office. And for your information, I informed the night guards about still being here, probably having to stay the entire night. Not that they don't patrol past my office every half hour anyway after you scared them half to death about the lax security here on campus," Charlie countered, straightening up again, clearly agitated now. "Jeez, Don, I played along long enough now. I gave you more than enough time to snap out of this but apparently, this is not going to happen. But this is stopping now: I don't want you to drive me around anymore unless I ask you to give me a lift, don't call every thirty minutes when you know I'm here past my office hours, call the bodyguards off and for Heaven's sake, get over this!"
"Charlie, how many times do I have to remind you that they are still out there! We've got to be careful!" Don pointed out, exasperated.
"And how many times do I have to tell you that the likelihood about those people attacking me again is minim?" Charlie asked back, as exasperated, but some of his agitation had dissipated. He came around the desk and sat on it, facing Don. "I've shown you the probability tables on this and other possible threats. And really, Don. I don't care about them being out there. Not much. I can live with them never being caught. Why can't you?"
His irritation dying down as well, Don met his brother's soulful eyes and smiled ironically, too tired to fight anymore. "Because I can't stand the thought that they've hurt you and go free for it. Because when I stood by your hospital bed, I made an oath that I was going to bring these guys to justice for hurting you. Because I can't lose my little brother."
Charlie's eyes bored into him. "You haven't lost me."
Don shrugged. "Luck."
Charlie shook his head, but smiled as well, a bit lopsided. "Come on. As if a little beating like that could stop me from continuing to be the perfect little pain in the ass brother to you. And as for your oath: I appreciate the sentiment, but Don, you've done all you could. Your team did all they could. The LAPD did all they could. And I too. There is nothing left that you could still do so really, consider your promise to me fulfilled. I say it's even more than fulfilled," Charlie willed Don to see the truth in his words. Don let his words sink in, wanting to believe them. But... "Besides, Dad still needs his grandchildren and as we all know how your love life looks like, or rather said, lack of thereof, it looks like that one's on me," Charlie pointed out with a lopsided smile after a moment.
Taking a deep breath, Don let it out again. And then he smirked. "Want to tell me something, Chuck?"
"Oh no. Definitely not. I still have years for that. But I tell you, if you continue like this, I'm never going to be even able to provide those grandchildren," Charlie grinned back. "And I tell you one thing, you'll have to answer to Dad for that, sure as hell not me, Donald."
Don gave a bark of laughter and leaned back, closing his eyes. Now that was something he definitely would avoid like the pest. Their father was scary when it was about his non-existent grandchildren. Opening his eyes again, he regarded Charlie with a long, searching look.
"It's not that easy, Charlie. I can't just let go," he admitted, truthfully.
"I understand," Charlie said softly and leaned forward to squeeze Don's knee. "So take it step by step. First step being you going home now and go to sleep. To be frank, you look like you need it. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. You can call me once you're home and then in the morning, I'm calling you to tell you that I had a perfectly calm night."
Don shook his head. "No."
"Don!" Charlie whined.
"I'm too tired to move, let alone to drive home," Don continued. "Fighting with you is exhausting."
His brother looked at him skeptically.
Don held up his hands and grinned a little. "Seriously. So I'll just take a nap here."
"That's not very comfortable," Charlie replied, still eyeing him mistrustfully.
"I've slept in worse places, believe me," Don waved that away. His eyes fell onto the board. "Is that dangerous?"
Charlie looked back. "The risks for this is well acceptable," he answered, again evasively.
That wasn't enough for Don though. "Do they expect trouble on this one?" he further asked.
Charlie shook his head.
So far so good. But Don wasn't finished yet. "And does anyone involved in this and not being on our side know you're working on this?"
Again, Charlie just shook his head.
Okay. Hesitating only a second later, Don sat up and removed his holster, put his gun into it and slowly leaned forward to lay it onto the desk beside Charlie, meeting his brother's eyes.
Charlie looked at the gun, then back to his brother and smiled, his dark eyes shining proudly. "Now, was this so hard?" With a slap onto Don's shoulder, Charlie hoped down from the desk, grabbed the marker and the headphones and moved back to his board.
Don watched as within seconds, Charlie was gone, back into that world of his, filled with numbers, equations and patterns. His eyes slid back to his gun and slowly, he leaned back, making himself as comfortable as it was possible on this chair.
Charlie had no idea but yeah, laying his weapon down just now had been one of the hardest things Don had ever done in his life. Then again, Don did agree with Charlie: he couldn't continue like this, it not only wearing him down, but he felt that if he didn't learn to let go of this paralyzing fear about Charlie, his relationship with his brother would suffer from it.
And that was as unacceptable as losing him.
So mostly because of that, Don decided to give this step by step program a chance. And maybe tomorrow, he'd let Charlie go home on his own.
Closing his eyes and sliding deeper into the chair, Don admitted to himself that he would have to learn a way to live with the thought that Charlie's attack would go unpunished and that he would never be able to repay the bastards for daring to hurt his little brother. He hated that and he was still uneasy about them being still out there, fearing another attempt on Charlie. And he would still see to it that Charlie would be more careful in the future, and if it cost him every last nerve he had. Then, hopefully, he would be able to relax again.
He still marveled at the fact that this brutal attack had affected him so much. If asked prior to it, he'd have always said that Charlie would have problems dealing with it, with Don having to help him through it. And now it had turned out that Don took this a lot harder than Charlie.
When had his little brother grew to be so strong?
It didn't matter. Despite the trouble Don had with dealing and accepting all this, there were two good things that had come out of it: First, he grew aware of just how vital and important Charlie was for him, appreciating having him more than he had ever before in his life and second, he had learned a few things more about Charlie, seeing his strength, confidence and also his new ability to deal so well with a crisis, making Don incredible proud of his little brother.
Yeah, that was at least something. And Charlie had been also right with another thing he had said, back when Don had brought him home from the hospital: whoever had beaten him up may go free - but they hadn't won. Charlie had won, by surviving, by living his life as he used to - well as much as Don had let him.
But he could see this now, finally, and he thought that maybe, it was time to adapt this view of this crime against Charlie. So far, these bastards had perhaps not won over his little brother, but they had won over Don, planting in him the dread of losing Charlie, causing him to maybe overdo his protectiveness of his little brother just a little bit.
Not anymore though.
They could perhaps go free but he'd be damned if he let them win on top of that.
Nodding to himself, Don let go of his thoughts and drifted off to a long needed, peaceful slumber.
TBC!
(Author's Note: At last, the next chapter. I'm sorry for the hold: I was about preparing the next post when I had the marvelous impression that something was just missing and I couldn't bring myself to post it like that, so I took a little out time to add the scenes I felt missing. Now it's definitely finished though (well, apart from being beta-ed) and there's only one little part left. Hope you liked it! Thanks for all the encouragement and reviews!)