Not Letting You Go

Chapter 22

He found himself sitting on the floor of his bedroom in the dark. It was amazing the memories that came to a person when he least expected them. Those six months, nearly twenty years ago, had been both some of the worst and best of his life.

He remembered that day, long ago, in the garage; the worry that the closeness they had begun to share would be lost with the start of college, both of them on different coasts. Neither thought, at the time, they would loose that closeness. However, somehow over the years they did. At first they called regularly, but soon college life and all the other trappings of the post-high school world, got in the way. Their weekly calls, turned into monthly, then to just holidays and birthdays. They would occasionally see each other over major holidays.

As Charlie graduated Princeton, leaving the country to attend Oxford, Don was graduating with his pre-law degree and moving on into minor league baseball. Contact became even more sporadic. They again seemed to be in two different worlds.

After a few years in the minors, Don realized he would never move up and much to his family's surprise and dismay, he applied to the FBI. While his application was processed, he took a position on a small town police force about an hour north of L.A.

Charlie, in the meantime, had returned to the states with at least two doctorates under his belt. Becoming the youngest tenured professor at the prestigious California Institute of Science, it being within minutes of his childhood home.

Before long Don was gone on his own quest to the east coast in Quantico, Virginia at the FBI Academy. Once graduating, near the top of his class, Don spent time in Fugitive Recovery--a fact that drove his parents crazy with worry. After that, he quickly moved up through the ranks to become one of the youngest Special Agents in Charge of his own office in New Mexico.

It ended up being several years before the brothers spoke to or saw one another again. Then it was under the shadow of their mother's illness, which eventually claimed her life. During that period, it was as if the brothers had never been close. Don resented Charlie for getting lost in his numbers as their mother died. Charlie, unable to explain the compulsion to work on an unsolvable math problem, withdrew almost completely from his family.

As those dark days passed, Don and Charlie, slowly found common ground again. This time it was in Don's FBI work. Charlie was able to prove his numbers could help out on more than just financial and fraud cases. Through this, they began to understand each other again; to slowly become a much needed part of one another's lives again.

As he sat in the darkness he couldn't help but smile, thinking over the last couple of years. It had been nice to be close again. However for the past several weeks--months if he was really honest with himself--he had begun to feel a darkness creep into his soul, that even his brother couldn't help banish. He began to feel like he wasn't important. He was afraid he was becoming a liability to those around him. He began an almost constant second-guessing of himself. As he sat there allowing the darkness of the room to intermingle with the darkness of his soul, he studied the object on the floor in front of him.

Never feeling more alone than at this moment the memories of those days, all those years ago washed over him, taking his breath. Is this what his brother felt that night? The despair of feeling alone, of having no-one to talk to, filled Don's eyes with tears. He hadn't cried in years and now, now he couldn't seem to stop the silent tears that fell.

The feeling that he had let the people around him down mingled with the after-effects of the seemingly bad judgment call he had made yesterday; a call that had nearly cost him two members of his team. As if that weren't horrendous enough? One of them had been his own brother. His own despair and inability to focus had nearly cost him the most important person in his life. They had again grown close, only for that priceless relationship to have been nearly lost.

His mind replayed the event, like a torturous dream on a never-ending loop. Don had let Charlie talk him into riding along. They were going to pick-up what they thought was a low-level drug dealer, hoping he'd lead to the one calling the shots. Even with the thought of it being a 'routine' bust, the team was suited up in their Kevlar vests. He had parked the SUV a few houses down and told Charlie to stay safely behind it. Charlie, being Charlie, kept looking around the corner as the team approached the house. Things took a downward turn as Charlie heard shouting coming from the house, then gunfire. Worry for Don, out weighing his clearer thinking, caused Charlie to stand up from behind the vehicle, in time to see a suspect jump from a side window and run, he'd just jumped from, with Colby and David close behind. The man turned and fired a shot behind him, hitting Colby, knocking him off his feet. As the man turned back, still headed for Charlie, Don's voice could be heard yelling for Charlie to get down. In those seconds, time went into slow motion as Charlie saw the gun raised in his direction. Don watched as the man fired and Charlie jerked, hitting the side of the truck, then dropping out of sight, behind. Several shots rang out as another unit that had been summoned once shots were fired, showed up, taking out the shooter. Don remembered yelling his brother's name as he rounded the SUV, with Megan close behind. Don froze at the scene before him. His little brother; the one he had vowed so long ago to protect, was lying, seemingly lifeless on the ground, bleeding from his arm and a gash on the side of his head. Don dropped next to him, instinctively checking for a pulse. Upon finding one, he had started to call his brother's name, as Megan, put pressure on Charlie's arm. Charlie's eyes opened as the medics arrived. Don rode with him to the hospital.

Colby had been hit in the vest, bruising some ribs. Charlie ended up with a mild concussion and a grazing wound on his upper arm. Once Alan arrived at the hospital, Megan having gone and gotten him, both Eppes men waited as Charlie slept off the concussion. He was released a few hours later, but that didn't help with the feelings that had been playing through Don's mind ever since the shooting. He knew it was stupid to have taken Charlie out with him, he should have known. The team had thought it would be and easy take-down and that David and Colby could process the guy once he was in custody while Don and Charlie headed back to the office to start running the information found at the guys house, hopefully lead to a bigger score. However, now sitting in the dark, he knew that he should have known better. No bust was ever routine. Fact was, he had made a bad call, nearly costing his brother his life.

He reached and picked up his service weapon; that was almost an extension of his own body, and he looked at it. He stopped as the thought 'was this what Charlie felt with those pills in his hand, so long ago?" It scared Don to think his brother had ever felt this empty and lost. He closed his eyes, letting the feelings from that night wash over him.

The shear terror of finding his baby brother like that, of him dying in his arms in the hall. The panic as he recalled doing CPR on his lifeless brother. 'NO!', Don thought to himself. He couldn't put his brother through what he had gone through, the helplessness to stop what was happening, the unfathomable feeling of your heart and soul being ripped out as someone you cared about so deeply died before you.

His thoughts were interrupted by the squeak of the floorboards in the hallway. Don quickly slid his gun under the bed behind him as the door opened.

"Don?" He heard his brother's quiet voice as Charlie pushed the door open. "Don, you okay?" Charlie saw the tears reflecting off his brother's face from the light in the hall. Slowly Charlie made his way over, sitting down next to his big brother. "It wasn't your fault." Charlie spoke softly, noticing Don looking at the white bandage around his upper arm, reaching to gently touch it.

"I almost got you killed." Emotion was so thick in Don's voice, Charlie barely understood him.

Charlie placed his free hand over Don's as it hovered around the bandage. "If I had stayed down behind the car, like you said, nothing would have happened. It was my fault, not yours. Besides, I'm okay. Don, look at me." Don's eyes slowly met his brother's. "I'm okay, but I'm worried about you." Charlie wiped a tear from his brother's face.

Don's resolve broke. "I'm scared, Charlie. I'm starting to feel…I don't know…useless." Don barely whispered.

"DON'T EVER SAY THAT!" Charlie's voice rose slightly in anger. "You have NEVER been useless." Charlie's voice softened. "Maybe you should talk to somebody." Charlie watched his brother's reaction, and was surprised to see Don nod in agreement. "You know you can always talk to me." Don looked at him questioningly. "Don, you know you can come to me about anything, right?"

Don couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. "Isn't that my line?"

"Works both ways Bro," Charlie smiled.

"Thanks, Charlie." Don looked into his lap, visualizing the gun he had just hidden. "You've got good timing, you know?'

"I felt it here." Charlie reached, placing his hand over his brother's heart. "I felt you needed me and I came." Charlie watched his brother's eyes drift to his hand on Don's chest. Don gently laid his hand over it. "You okay now?" Charlie asked.

Don's eyes met his and with the hint of a smile he answered. "I will be."

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Author's note: Well this is the end of this journey. For those of you who have stuck it out with me I give a huge THANK YOU!!!

I want to take the time to thank you all for the reviews you all have so kindly given, I guess I never realized how positive of an effect such wonderful reviews can give the writer. But they do. I will try and be better at posting reviews on stories I read. You all helped keep me motivated. Thank you all again for sticking with me and I really hope I gave an ending that fit the story.

I also want to take this chance and thank the person responsible for helping me become a better writer: FraidyCat. She has been my wonderful Beta. She also helped me when I ran into a writer's block and wasn't sure how to continue without bogging the story down. I feel her suggestions to me along the way helped me become a better writer; I hope you all agree. So again a hardy: THANK YOU to FraidyCat.

Saying that, any glaring errors were all me, grammar was never my strong suit. I'll leave you now with a quote I saw where I work, that once I thought about it, really is inspiring.

Shoot for the moon.

Even if you miss

You'll land among the stars.

-author unknown-

Montez