Imagine a deep, booming announcer's voice saying this: And now, the moment you've all been waiting for. ha. I've given you all this chapter a few hours earlier than I normally would for two reasons: 1. Because you've all been such awesome readers, and some of you have left some really thoughtful reviews that made me feel really good inside, so this is a reward for you. and 2. Because I'm a college kid and it's a Friday night and so it's doubtful I'll see my computer again until sometime tomorrow so I didn't want to make you wait longer than normal. Ha.
Enjoy this chapter, and as always, please read and review!
Chapter 8 (Don)
Other than in the beginning, before Don was really coherent, no one from his old team had come by to visit much. It was understandable; they had spent the last couple weeks shutting down a potentially major terrorism threat. So it was nice that, since Robin and his father were off doing Don wasn't sure what, Colby and Nikki stopped by to keep him entertained.
It was a tad bit awkward at first. Understandable, Don supposed again, because if one of them had had their leg smashed off by a car, he probably wouldn't know what to say to them either. But after the awkward pleasantries had been exchanged, the three of them fell into a comfortable and companionable rhythm.
Colby had brought along a chess board, and the two were trying their hand at teaching Nikki to play. Eventually, with Don clearly the strongest of the three players, Colby and Nikki tag-teamed to try and defeat him. So far, much to Don's enjoyment, the two had not been successful. The two-on-one nature of the game put him in mind of times past when he and his father used to team up against Charlie. Right now, he'd give anything to go back to those days.
"Come on, Colby," Nikki teased, "you should have known that a man who grew up with a math genius brother would probably bring a pretty good game."
Don grinned. "Yeah, that might be true. But it was actually years of playing against my dad as a kid that sharpened my skills. Charlie didn't like playing against me very much for some reason. I'm not sure why, it's not like I gloat when I win—much."
"Still, I thought I was decent," Colby complained. "I learned to play in the Army, and I thought I got pretty good at it, but I think Don's pretty much shot down all my chess pride by now."
"Well who have you been playing against since you got out of the Army?" Nikki wondered. "David? Cause we all know how much he sucks."
Don snorted a little. "Yeah, Nikki, you've only been playing chess for what, an hour and a half now? I'm pretty sure you're already better than David."
"Don't worry, I won't tell him you said that," Colby said, his voice a mock warning tone. Then he grew serious. "By the way, Don, speaking of David, I talked to him the other day. He sends his best, and if you needed anything from him, don't hesitate to call."
Don nodded, unsure of what to say. These were the kind of awkward moments that he wasn't good at handling. Another negative byproduct of everything that had happened.
"Eh, it probably doesn't matter," Nikki cut in. Don was thankful to the young woman for saving him from having to respond. "He's probably got enough people taking care of him between his dad, his wife, and his brother. Poor guy's probably feeling smothered already."
"Well, two out of three anyway," Don let slip before he could stop himself. Once he saw Colby and Nikki eyeing him with curiosity, he knew he had to continue that thought. "Well, you know, Charlie's still kind of recovering from everything, too. He hasn't been around so much." He was fairly impressed with how vague he'd kept his tone of voice; he was glad he didn't give too much away.
However, Colby didn't seem fooled at all. "He's feeling guilty, huh?"
Don chuckled mirthlessly. "It would seem that way. Not that I would know, I haven't actually seen the guy."
"What?" Nikki was surprised. "He hasn't even been by once?"
Don simply stared at her in response.
"Damn," Colby muttered, just barely loud enough for Don to hear. "I'm sorry, man. If you need us to do anything, like if you want us to talk to him or something, just let us know. We'll do whatever." He looked to Nikki for confirmation, and she nodded.
"Yeah, Boss, whatever you need," she assured. "Even if you just need us to drag his sorry ass in here by force and in handcuffs, we can do that, too."
Some things never change. Don couldn't help but crack a smile at Nikki's bluntness, as well as the way she still called him "boss" even though he hadn't been her immediate supervisor for over a year now.
"I appreciate the offer guys," he said, "but I think I'm just going to let him work through this on his own. I mean, Dad and Amita have been working on it."
They fell silent after that, none of them saying much for awhile beyond their chess-related communications. Don felt he couldn't say much more to them regarding Charlie. He'd seen in their eyes and heard in their voices how much they were willing to go to bat for him on the matter—and he was more appreciative than he could express.
He could feel the exhaustion coming on again—the exhaustion he'd recently realized had come partially from experiencing too many inexpressible emotions. Not that he was the type to show any outward signs of feeling anything anyway, but it still just seemed so frustrating that he didn't know how. He didn't really know how to tell anyone how scared he was, or how angry he was at himself, and at life in general. And even a little at Charlie, for not even giving him a chance to reassure his younger brother that no blame was to be taken. It wasn't like Don could hop in the car, drive over to Charlie's house, corner him, and talk to him. He was completely stuck where he was—because despite several days now of intense physical therapy, he could still hardly move without serious outside help.
And he was inexplicably grateful to Colby and Nikki for coming here and entertaining him. He claimed he didn't need a baby-sitter all the time at the hospital—but secretly he was brimming with gratitude that his family and friends had all pitched into make sure he never had to sit there in his bed, alone and brooding. Although he would never admit it out loud.
"Your move, Boss," Nikki said, and Don realized he'd been spacing out.
"Right, sorry," he muttered, turning his attention back to the game. He studied the board carefully. Nikki and Colby had apparently tried to set a trap, but what they didn't seem to know is he had a plan B for just such a situation. He pretended to be fooled, moving his bishop to capture their knight.
Nikki and Colby shared a quick, smug glance. They thought they'd fooled him. Without hesitation, Nikki knocked over his bishop, and Don's trap was set. Only a few more moves now.
Before they'd gotten a chance to get that far, however, the door to Don's room swung open. His father walked in, looking exhausted.
"Colby, Nikki," the eldest Eppes greeted with a smile. "It's good to see you two. Thanks for coming by and spending some time with Donnie."
"Hey, Alan," said Colby, standing up to shake the older man's hand. "Don's just been giving us some chess lessons."
Don smiled a small smile. He tried to shift a little in the bed—sometimes after sitting up in the same position for too long, his lower back got stiff. It was difficult, though. He wasn't used to the inequality of mass from his left side of his lower body to the right side. Eventually, he just gave up.
"Hey Dad," he said, focusing his attention on his father. "Robin with you?"
"Yeah, Donnie, she's outside," his father answered vaguely. Don got the impression that there was something his dad was trying not to tell him, which sent alarm bells ringing in his head. Something was up. He felt a flash of fear, hoping nothing was wrong with Robin or the baby.
"Excuse me, Colby, Nikki," his dad continued. "Would you mind giving me a moment with Donnie?"
"Oh, yeah," Colby responded. "Uh, we'd probably better be getting back to the office anyway, huh Nik? We left Liz holding down the fort at the office—not that there was much going on there anyways. One of those rare quiet days. But yeah. We'll see you later Don."
"Bye guys, thanks for hanging out for awhile," Don replied automatically, almost without thinking.
"See ya, Don," Nikki said. "Bye, Mr. Eppes."
"Thank you," his dad said with a smile. "And for the last time, it's Alan!"
The door had barely clicked shut before Don was ready to lay into his father for answers. "What's going on, Dad?" He was looking up intensely at his father, his eyes searching the older man's.
"Don't worry, Donnie, it's nothing bad," his dad assured him as he came around to sit on the edge of Don's bed. "I just wanted to give you a heads up, first. We, uh, well, we managed to get your brother here." He stopped, and Don let the words sink in.
"What?" he breathed. "Charlie's here? Now?" He paused to think. Charlie had come? By this point, Don had pretty much given up hope. Everything had seemed fairly hopeless lately. He shook that thought off; that wasn't the point. The point was that apparently Charlie had a sudden change of heart . . . or something. "How's he doing?"
"Well, to be honest, Donnie, I have no idea how this is going to go." Don noticed that his father was trying really very hard not to look him in the eyes, which scared him more than anything else. "Just . . . you know, be careful what you say. Charlie's not at all in a good place."
"Don't worry, Dad," Don lay a hand on his father's arm. "I know Charlie. I know how he can get, and I'm pretty sure I know what not to say to him. Please, just . . . bring him in, okay?"
"All right, Donnie," his father conceded. "I'll go send him in."
With that, Dad had opened the door and left Don alone. Charlie's here. After two and a half weeks of wondering where he was, he'd finally come. All this time, no one had really wanted to discuss this issue with Don. Until Robin had been mostly honest with him about it a couple days ago. He wondered what he'd say to his younger brother—what could he say?
He understood why Charlie hadn't been there. He understood perfectly well, he was pretty sure. But it didn't change how Don felt about it. He was a little hurt by his brother's absence—why couldn't Charlie put his own goddamn ego aside, realize how wrong he was, and come by? Most of the time, when Don was ill or injured, he'd rather be left alone to lick his wounds in privacy. This time had been a little different, though. Being alone left Don to think about the uncertainty of his future. He liked having as many of his loved ones around as possible to make him feel like things were normal.
But it was a little hard to feel normal when his own brother had refused to come see him.
The door squeaked open and Don's head snapped up expectantly. Slowly, the form of Don's younger brother began to form fully in the doorway. Don swallowed as he sized his brother up. Charlie's appearance was ragged, to say the least. The man looked like he hadn't slept in days. His hair was unkempt, his face unshaven.
The two of them shared a long, meaningful gaze. All of Don's earlier feelings of being abandoned or betrayed by his brother dissipated quickly. Charlie's eyes were bloodshot; whether from crying or simple exhaustion, Don was unsure, but he guessed maybe both. The look in Charlie's eyes was odd, Don noted. Behind the layers of exhaustion and apparent defeat was something a little more difficult to detect? Fear? No, not really fear, more like apprehension. Maybe a little shame? Possibly shame, a thought which broke Don's heart. Guilt? Oh, definitely some of that.
"Charlie," Don finally whispered to the man in the doorway. "Hey, Charlie, it's really good to see you."
Charlie didn't say anything. Instead he slowly moved into the room from the doorway. Don watched him reach a shaky hand up to rub his face. The older man decided against speaking again. It might be best to wait for Charlie to speak to him. Instead, he just watched Charlie very carefully.
Eventually, Charlie seemed to have worked up enough nerve to speak. "Donnie," he squeaked, slowly approaching Don. "I don't know—I can't even . . . I . . . I just—well, I . . . I'm so sorry, Don!"
Watching his brother, Don became unsure if he had the strength to handle this. I can't take care of me yet, Charlie, how do you expect me to take care of you? He wished that just one thing in this whole, awful mess could be not so impossibly difficult.
"Aw, Charlie," he breathed. He reached his arm out towards his brother, waiting until his hand was grasped. "Come here, buddy."
Charlie sat down in the chair that, moments before, was occupied by Colby. "Don, I can't even tell you," he started. "I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I mean, for everything. For the accident, for what happened. And I've just been so damn selfish. I should have just come and talked to you about it right away, but instead I just stayed at home and made you wonder when really, I should have just faced the music a long time ago, because here you are and I can't even imagine what you're already going through and then—"
"Charlie," Don finally had to interrupt. His brother was rambling, and it wasn't doing any good. "Charlie. Hey. Let me talk for a second, okay?" He waited until his brother nodded, and then he continued. "Okay. First of all, I don't blame you for any of this. This is not your fault. I mean, I know. If it had been me driving and you ending up in here, I'd feel like just crawling in a hole and never coming out again. And you know damn well that if the roles were reversed here, you wouldn't be blaming me at all, would you?"
Charlie chuckled, much to Don's surprise. "That's exactly what Robin asked me. And I told her, no I wouldn't blame you."
"All right, so we'd both be needlessly feeling guilty," Don stated logically. "So there's just no point to this, right? Okay? You don't have anything to be sorry about."
"You're right," Charlie agreed, although his lack of conviction was clearly portrayed with the tears that were starting to fall. "But I don't think I'll ever be able to stop feeling guilty completely. But I can't believe I let it get to the point where I couldn't even come see you, Don, I'm sorry. I should have known that you wouldn't blame me, I was just afraid that you would, and I'm sorry. I should have given you more credit than that. I'm so, so, so sorry."
"Aw, Chuck," Don whispered. His own throat kept tightening, the tears threatening to fall. "You can always come talk to me, even if you think I'm going to be mad. You know that, right?"
Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I do. I don't know. Somehow, the longer I stayed away from here, the harder it got to make myself come. I'm sorry. I really should have been here. I should have been here for you; this has to be so hard. I can't even imagine."
Don sighed shakily. There was really no point in being anything but honest here. "Yeah, buddy, it's really hard. The physical therapy, the sitting here all day, the wishing I could just go home and sleep in my own bed, the not knowing what's going to happen after I get out of here—yeah, it's hard. But the hardest thing has been knowing my brother was at home feeling responsible for all of it—and not being able to help him. So, I'm just really glad you finally made it here, buddy."
Charlie nodded slowly. "I'm just sorry I added to everything else you're already dealing with."
"I know," Don said, "but just know that I don't blame you for anything about any of this, okay?" He patted Charlie awkwardly on the arm as his brother nodded. Charlie was crying pretty openly now, and Don felt pretty close to tears himself.
The whole thing, every moment of the last two-and-a-half weeks had just been so messy, and Don was tired. In fact, he was developing a bit of a headache because everything, including this conversation, had just been so hard.
"Come here, buddy," Don said, hardly thinking. He pulled Charlie's arm towards him and pulled his younger brother into an awkward hug. "It's tough, I know. This is just a bad thing that happened, but it's going to be okay, all right? I'm going to be fine. I need you to know that, okay?"
Charlie nodded into Don's shoulder. "I know you are Don. I know you'll be okay. And if you ever need me to remind you of that, I will."
"Thanks, Chuck," Don said with a smile, pulling back out of the hug. "Heh. Look at us. We actually went ahead and had the conversation we needed to as soon as you got here. Normally we probably just would have made really awkward small talk for awhile."
Charlie snorted. "Yeah, well, these are hardly normal circumstances."
Yeah. Except they were going to have to be now. He looked back down at the spot on the bed where his leg should have been. Things weren't ever going back to the way they used to be. But maybe now he'd at least have the support of his brother.
TBC