Alan observed his youngest for the next few days. His son was a poor actor in his opinion. He could see his son was hurting, that something was bothering him. Maybe it was just the all-seeing-all-knowing father talking. Maybe others couldn't see it as well as he could. Don had made brief comments a few days ago, but had let the matter drop after that. Alan couldn't understand how others couldn't see what was so obvious to him.

Alan was thankful Don had chosen not to come over tonight. He knew this would be a good opportunity to confront his son. His suspicion had become more and more likely. Alan just hoped that if it was correct, Charlie wouldn't deny it.

Charlie noticed the way his father watched him even more carefully than usual. So, he sought solitude in the garage. The past 20 days had been very trying for him. The first week was extremely difficult because he couldn't see hardly anything. It had been a real struggle for him. But dealing with hiding the fact that he was blind in one eye had been the most difficult. Charlie knew how much it would worry his father if he knew about his blind eye. He didn't want to be babied because of it. He would be fine on his own. He didn't want anyone feeling sorry for him or making things easier on him. He would still be independent. He refused to let this stop him.

More than that, he didn't want Don to find out. His brother had done so much for him already. Don was his protector. He had always been there for him. Charlie at least owed him protection from the truth. He knew Don had done the same for him. Though he understood how frustrating that could be, Charlie was thankful he didn't know some of the things that had happened to his brother. He wanted to be a part of his brother's life, and it hurt him that Don didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth. Still, Charlie knew how it would scare him if he knew his brother was seriously injured.

Don didn't need to know about his eye. He wouldn't tell his brother. Charlie regretted ever making Don seem like a bad brother. Though his brother often seemed oblivious to Charlie's feelings, he knew Don took his comments to heart. Now his brother would probably use things Charlie had said against him to back up how horrible he thought he was for allowing Charlie to get hurt. It wasn't fair of him to judge himself so harshly. If Don already was punishing himself enough, Charlie wouldn't dare add more to make his brother use against himself. Don couldn't see how good of a brother he was. Maybe Charlie didn't tell him enough. He'd fight to remedy that. It was only fair that he returned the favor to his brother.

Today, Charlie locked himself in the garage. He needed a moment to himself. The effects of his fight to hide the truth were beginning to show. It was easier to hide it than pretend it wasn't there. If his father didn't see him and he didn't see his father, there was no reason to hide. He could embrace it, relax a moment, knowing he didn't have to be on his guard.

Charlie sank onto the floor, leaning against the wall behind him. Though numbers, math, equations that needed to be solved clouded his
mind, the one thing that was always first in his thoughts pushed the math away. It was hard. He'd already gone weeks without talking to anyone about how it was only seeing out of the one eye. It would be easier on him if he didn't have to watch what he did and said all the time. He had to pretend to be able to see clearly out of both eyes. He didn't even trust his friends with the knowledge that he was blind in one eye. It was a heavy burden he carried, and he would continue to as long as he could. It was a small price he had to pay to protect himself and his family.

Today seemed especially hard. He pressed his face in his hands and felt them dampen as his tears spilled from his eyes. It was so hard. He had to remind himself multiple times a day that it was worth it because every day he'd think he should just tell the truth and it'd be over. He would spare his brother the guilt, spare his father the worry. It would be worth it, the hurt, the stress, the strive to make sure no one knew.

When Charlie allowed himself a long time to himself, he stood up. His father knocked on the door right before he left. Charlie opened it and found his father waiting worriedly outside.

"Are you all right? You've been in there an awfully long time."

"I'm fine, Dad. You want me to fix lunch?" Charlie walked past his father and headed for the kitchen door.

Alan thought he had seen the remnants of tears in his son's eyes. He couldn't be sure since it had been such a brief glimpse. He figured his son was leaving quickly so he couldn't see any tears.

Alan followed his son into the house. Charlie was getting out the turkey lunch meat when he came in. His son had already gotten out the bread and cheese. Alan came over and got out the mustard.

"Here," he set the jar on the table.

"I've got it, Dad. Just go sit down, please." Charlie fought to keep the snap out of his tone.

"All right," Alan consented and went to the dining room to sit down.

A few minutes later, Charlie came out with two plates. Each had a turkey sandwich on it and a side of potato chips. Both liked their sandwiches the same, so it was easy to fix. He went back into the kitchen and came out with two glasses of lemon water.

"Thank you, Charlie. It looks good," Alan commented before eating.

"You're welcome."

Realizing it was time for the news, Alan stood. "You don't mind if I turn on the TV do you?"

"No. Go right ahead."

The images on the screen scared them both, though. The writing on the bottom of the screen described a shooting across the street from the Los Angeles FBI headquarters. The reporter explained that five were injured, two off them being agents. Alan and Charlie just stared at the TV, neither moving.

Then the phone rang.

Both their hearts stopped beating. Charlie stood and rushed to the trash can not too far away. He never would have made it to the bathroom without spewing the contents of his stomach on the floor. Momentarily torn between seeing to his youngest son and answering the phone, Alan had to pause before answering.

"He-hello?" Alan's voice shook as he spoke into the phone.

"Hi, Dad."

Alan felt his breath leave him in a rush. "Donnie! Are you all right?"

"I'm okay, Dad. I am one of the five injured, though."

"What? Are you okay?"

"I just said I am," Don laughed. "Ow. I just broke a couple of ribs. I had my vest on, so don't worry."

"I had my vest on" meant he'd been shot. How could Alan not worry?

"Oh, Donnie."

"It's okay, really. Did Charlie see?"

Alan turned his attention back to his youngest still on the floor and found Charlie's frightened eyes on him. Alan smiled reassuringly.

"Yes, unfortunately. He was a bit preoccupied when the phone rang. He was emptying his stomach."

"Aw, man. I didn't mean to worry him. Let me talk to him."

Alan held the phone out to Charlie. Charlie clutched it tightly and brought it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Buddy. You okay?"

Charlie closed his eyes and breathed a silent "thank you."

"You still with me?" Don asked when his brother didn't say anything for a long time.

"I-I'm here. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just got a few broken ribs. It's nothing too bad."

"That's good." Charlie's breathing was shaky. He was failing to fight off tears.

"Hey, could you do me a favor?"

"Anything." His voice broke off toward the end as he choked on a sob.

"Would you mind keeping Dad away, at least for a while? I don't really feel like being smothered right now."

"Okay."

Charlie heard someone say something in the background. Don replied, "I'm an FBI agent!" The he groaned. "I gotta go, Buddy. Apparently I'm not supposed to have a cell phone. I'm okay, I promise. I'll see you later, Buddy!"

"Bye."

"Bye!"

Charlie hung up the phone and covered his face with his hands as he released the tears he had tried to hide from his brother.

Seeing his son so upset, Alan rushed to Charlie's side and took him in his arms. Charlie turned his face into his father's chest.

"Why must he do stuff like this to us?" he asked.

Alan laughed. "I don't think he does it on purpose."

"I know, but it scares me so much." Charlie squeezed his father around the waist.

"Do you know what one of the scariest moments of my life was?"

"What?" Charlie knew there had to be many.

"Your first days of high school, you and Don both."

Charlie laughed against his father's shirt.

"I'm serious! Your mother and I were so worried about you two and for good reason when it came to you apparently."

"That was years ago. Get over it, Dad. I have."

"You were a mess! If I'd been twenty years younger I would have beaten those boys up myself."

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to."

Alan smiled. "Your brother was always good about that. I got a call at work saying he'd gotten in a fight. After I asked who with, I told the principal, 'Do what you want to punish him. He's not getting in trouble from us.'"

Charlie laughed again and pushed out of his father's arms. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome, kiddo." Alan grabbed his son's head and leaned forward to kiss him on the forehead.

"You ready to go see your brother?"

"Dad, maybe we should wait a while."

Alan gave his son a stern look, and then came to an assumption. "Did he tell you to stall me?"

Charlie grinned, enough of an answer for Alan.

"I see. Well, he can be in for a surprise."

"I'm in trouble."

"Oh, yes you are."

Maybe Alan would get around to confronting Charlie tomorrow.

Don wasn't too surprised when his family showed up shortly after he called them. He could see that the scare was affecting his little brother. He hated seeing that. Don knew his father was also affected, but Alan must do a better job at hiding it.

"Well, that didn't take long. Couldn't you hold out a little longer, Buddy?" Don teased.

Charlie gave him a tentative smile in return before ducking his head and going to stand in the corner of the room.

"I heard about you, mister. You're in big trouble." Alan walked to his son on the bed and planted a kiss on Don's forehead.

"Uh-oh. Charlie tell on me?"

"Yes, and you had to go and scare us to death."

"I'm sorry, guys."

"We forgive you, but try not to let it happen again. There's only so much this old heart of mine can take."

"Dad, you want to go get my discharge papers?"

"Sure. I'll be right back."

Don was thankful for the time alone with his brother.

"Come over here, Buddy."

Charlie slowly went to his brother, trying to cover the tears and fears that must have shown plainly on his face.

"Oh, Buddy. It's okay. Come here." Don opened his arms for his little brother, seeing how miserable Charlie looked. After a short pause, Charlie went to his brother. He pressed his face into his brother's shirt to hide the tears streaming down his face, though he was sure Don could tell by the wet spot that slowly grew on his shirt.

"You scared me."

"I know. I'm sorry, Buddy. It's a part of my job. Eventually, you get used to it."

Charlie sniffled. "Not me. Every time seems worse because it means one more moment you could have been killed. People only have so much luck."

"I thought you didn't believe in luck."

"I don't, but it's what I've named what ever it is you have that's kept you alive so long."

Don laughed. "I see."

Alan came in by the time Charlie had wiped away his tears.

Don stayed at home for the night, getting spoiled by his father and brother. The next day he went back to work on desk duty, though he hated it. It was still work.

Knowing they'd be alone for a while, Alan waited for a good time to test his own theory. He found it after lunch when Charlie sat in the living room and started reading a book.

Alan tiptoed his way into the living room. Charlie was usually pretty engrossed in books enough not to notice when someone starts talking to him. However, he usually acknowledges someone's presence.

Alan sat on the arm chair beside Charlie, being on his son's left. He succeeded in making a silent entry. He should have gotten something to do for the time being.

It was confirmation enough for Alan when his son didn't notice he was there for over half an hour. Charlie had even looked up from his book and shifted in his chair. It wasn't possible that he hadn't seen Alan the whole time.

"Charlie-"

"Ah!" Charlie screamed when he heard his father's voice so close beside him. He turned his face so his right eye was facing his father so he could see.

"Dad, you scared me." Charlie laughed nervously.

"I've been sitting here for forty minutes, Charlie."

He shook his head. That couldn't be. "No. No, that can't be."

Alan nodded his head.

"No."

"Yes. Charlie, isn't it about time you told me the whole truth?"

"What do you mean? I already told you." Charlie's pulse began to race. He felt panic rise in him.

"I'm your father. You can tell me anything."

"What? There's nothing to tell!"

Charlie stood and ran to his room.

"Charlie!" his father called after him.

He slammed the door and locked it, then slid down it to the floor.

This couldn't be happening. If Dad knew, then Don would. And if Don knew...Charlie didn't even want to think about that.

How did his father know there was still something he wasn't telling him? Was it that obvious? Was that why his father had sat by him? Maybe Alan already knew. That was probably it. Oh, God.

"Charlie! Charlie open this door right now!"

Charlie shook his head, though his father couldn't see him.

"Charlie, come on. I know about your eye."

Charlie's heart stopped beating. So he did know. He slowly stood and opened the door.

"What about my eye?" He tried to keep his voice from shaking.

"That you can't see out of your left eye."

Charlie gasped. "It isn't true!"

"Charlie, it's okay. Now I understand why you've been having such a rough time. I can't imagine what it would be like being the only one to know. I am hurt that you didn't tell me, though."

"It isn't true!" Charlie backed up. "I can see fine! See? You're wearing a black dress shirt and blue jeans. That shoe on the floor is brown and the clock says it's 1:45. See? I can see just fine!"

"I never said you couldn't see at all. You're just blind in one eye."

"It isn't true! It isn't true!" Charlie backed up to the corner of the room and slid down to the floor. Alan, who had stayed back before, went to his son. Charlie just kept shaking his head saying, "it isn't true" in a quiet voice.

"Oh, Charlie. It's okay now. Now you don't have to carry this alone."

Knowing there was no point in further denying it, Charlie gave up hiding. He buried his face in his hands a moment, and then lifted his face to his father.

"Please don't tell Don. Please don't tell Don. Don't tell Don. Don't tell Don," he now repeated after grabbing onto his father's hands and burying his face in them.

And now it made sense to Alan.

It's been one of those weeks, but I've survived. I hope you liked this chapter. It is a bit of a cliffhanger, but not much!