Chapter 22

Megan, Colby and David showed up midmorning, just as the nurse was removing Don's breakfast tray. "Good boy!" enthused the nurse, and Don scowled at her. Megan exchanged a glance with Colby and David, and none of them could suppress a smile.

David looked across the room at Charlie's sleeping form. "How's he doing?"

"Okay," sighed Don. "He was pretty sick this morning – something about gastric juices upsetting his system. They had to pump his stomach. He's been out since they gave him the pain medication."

"He say anything?" asked Colby.

"Nah, he's either been asleep or too sick to talk."

"Where's Alan?" asked Megan, glancing around.

"I think he went out in the waiting area for a while."

Megan stepped back and peered out of the door. She could see Alan, collapsed in an armchair, fast asleep. She stepped back in and looked at Don's face, pinched with fatigue. 'This has been hell on all of them,' she thought. "It looks like he's sleeping."

"Good," said Don, "he needs it." He looked up at them. "Any news?"

"They're still processing the site," said Colby. "They're trying to come up with DNA from the other vics, but I think this one's a no-brainer. Mansour had a small campsite set up back in the trees; he'd apparently been living in that canyon since he left home. They found a bunch of tools, wire cutters, knives, a saw-," he stopped when he saw Don's face pale, and he self-consciously shot a glance at Charlie. "Anyway, like I said; a no-brainer."

Megan eyed Don. "Are they going to release you today?"

"So they say." He tried to look noncommittal, but she saw the line of his jaw harden. "Where's Edgerton?"

She felt a frisson of apprehension, but kept her face carefully neutral, watching him. "He's been directing the team at the site. He's been pretty much living there." Don nodded, his own face expressionless, but she saw something dark flicker in his eyes, before they wandered, and rested on Charlie. The rest of them followed his gaze for a moment, looking at Charlie in silence.

Colby broke it, a little too loudly. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to find some breakfast."

"You had breakfast," said David.

"Coffee then," said Colby as he headed for the door. David shot an apologetic smile toward Don and shook his head, and then fell in behind Colby.

Megan turned to go after them. "We'll be in the waiting area. Let us know if he wakes up." Don nodded absently, his eyes still on Charlie, his expression dark. Megan eyed him for a moment, and left the room, frowning.

It was getting close to noon, and they were still waiting. Colby and David were lounging in the waiting room chairs, as Megan came out of the room and plunked down on a sofa. "Still out. He's due for another dose of pain medication soon though, so he should be waking up."

"I know Don doesn't blame us for this," Colby said, "but I still feel like shit."

"Yeah, man, I know what you mean." David shook his head.

"I know, I couldn't sleep last night," groaned Megan. She rested her head in her hands. "That ambulance ride – God, his face -," She sighed and straightened, wearily.

David nodded grimly. "I keep thinking back over it. We had to make a decision in a split second, and I know everything they always told us at Quantico was that we need to follow orders, not our guts, in a situation like that, but if there was ever a time to follow your gut, that was it. I just wish I'd followed mine."

"The only thing I can keep telling myself was that it was good we were there," said Colby. "As bad as Charlie was hurt, Edgerton would have had a hard time getting him out of there by himself. At least we helped there." Silence descended, and they sat, despondent, staring at nothing.

"Uh oh," said Megan quietly, suddenly sitting up straight. Colby's and David's heads whipped around and they followed her gaze. They all tensed and rose slowly to their feet as they saw Edgerton approach the doorway to the room.

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Alan had woken from an hour-and-a-half nap, and was sitting next to Charlie. The nap had not nearly been enough, but it helped; he was still tired but his thoughts were a little clearer. Charlie had been knocked completely out by the pain killer/compazine combination, and was still sleeping, but Don had risen and gotten dressed, and was rummaging through the bag for deodorant and a razor, his weight on his good leg.

"Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?" asked Alan. "They haven't released you yet. And you should be using your crutches." He caught a movement at the door and he looked up, his face darkening as Edgerton stepped quietly into the room.

Don had looked over his shoulder to answer him, and caught his expression. He followed his father's eyes to the doorway, spying Edgerton, and his face twisted in rage. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

Edgerton ignored the question, and spoke quietly. "How is he?"

Don snapped. He lunged across the room at Edgerton, grabbing the front of his jacket and forcing him backwards. The agents in the waiting room were heading forward as they saw the two of them stumble out into the hallway, and saw Don slam Edgerton into the opposing wall, his face contorted in fury. Don's fists were balled, twisting the front of Edgerton's shirt, and he thumped Edgerton into the wall again, straining against him. "How do you think he is, you son of a bitch!" he yelled. "You tell me!"

Edgerton's hands were up in an unconscious gesture of self-protection, but he didn't resist. That was a mistake, he realized a second later, as Don's fist exploded into his stomach. Colby and David had reached them, and were trying to pull Don away, as he tried to shrug them off, furious, his eyes still locked on Edgerton. A crowd of hospital staff was gathering in the hall, and a nurse picked up the phone.

Edgerton caught his breath, gasping. "You have to believe me, I didn't intend for that to happen. It was just supposed to be reconnaissance, out and back -," His words were cut off as he tried to turn away from the fist that suddenly connected with his face. Blood ran from his nose and he lifted one hand to it, trying to ward Don off with the other.

"You're lying! You set him up and you know it!" Don raged between clenched teeth. He pulled away from Colby and David, furiously trying to get his hands on Edgerton's throat. "You asshole! I'm gonna-,"

"Don! Back off man!" gasped David, as he and Colby wrestled with Don's arms, which seem to have acquired superhuman strength.

They managed to pull him away a few inches, and Megan stepped between them, her eyes locked on Don. "Don, knock it off," she commanded loudly. "You need to get a grip." 'Thank God he didn't have his service weapon,' she thought. She turned to Edgerton, eyeing him coldly. "I don't think it's such a good idea for you to be here."

Edgerton paused for a moment, chagrin and defeat on his face, and then wiping the blood from his nose and shrugging his jacket into place; he turned down the hallway. Don wrestled his arms impatiently away from Colby and David, and stepped heavily on his good leg, trying to get his balance, as a wave of dizziness hit him. "This isn't done, Ian!" he called after Edgerton angrily, as two security guards ran up. Don glowered at them, at the onlookers in the hallway, and at his agents, and hobbled angrily back into the room, ignoring the shocked look on his father's face.

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Charlie had slept through the commotion, and didn't stir until nearly a half hour later. He drifted in and out for a few minutes, his eyes opening as he heard voices. He stared, trying to focus, and the faces of Don's team came into view. They were smiling at him with encouragement, and his stomach twisted. How could they act like nothing had happened? 'Oh, it's just Charlie,' he thought, bitterly putting words in their mouths. 'He's clueless. He probably doesn't even realize what happened.' He turned his head away and gazed listlessly toward the window, catching Megan's faltering smile as he turned. Maybe if he ignored them, they would leave, and take the pain that their presence brought with them. Don could go too. Especially Don.

Alan looked at them with apology. "He isn't really himself."

Megan smiled at him consolingly. "That's certainly understandable. We'll come back later tonight. See you later, Charlie," she called to him. He continued staring out of the window, trying to fight the despair that rose inside of him.

Hours later, it was apparent he was losing that fight. They had given him a new pain killer, something not quite as strong, and he was longing for the first medication that they had given him. The new stuff barely kept the physical pain at bay, and worse yet, it didn't put him under. His thoughts were muddled by the medication, and in spite of the grogginess it caused, he felt anxious and confined, almost claustrophobic. His physical symptoms were nothing, however, compared to the emotional pain, the dark despair he felt in his heart. He prayed for sleep, and relief, but it would not come, so he lay there in a private hell, fighting pain, fighting tears.

He had been forced to endure Don's attempts at conversation the whole afternoon. There was no apology, no recognition of his role in what he had put Charlie through, and the longer it went on, the more sickeningly certain Charlie was that this had always been the norm for his brother.

Don obviously didn't have as much invested in the relationship as he did, Charlie thought sadly. To Don, it was a business relationship, and always had been. 'Let's get Charlie to do my homework. Let's get Charlie to solve this case. Let's get Charlie to go for a nice hike with a serial killer. Ian, set it up for me.' The more he thought about it, the more he was stricken by the sense of loss – the loss of the brother he thought he had, and of the friends that he thought he had made on Don's team. His mother was gone, Larry was gone - his world had collapsed to two people – his father and, well, maybe, Amita. Even that wasn't a given.

Don's mood had spiraled steadily downward during the afternoon, not that it had been great to start with. The only good news was that the compazine seemed to help his brother; he had not been sick all afternoon, and had even spent most of it awake. The fact that his brother was awake was small consolation, however; Charlie was listless and uncommunicative, especially with him. He ignored Don's attempts at conversation, and avoided eye contact. The little eye contact he did make chilled Don; his brother looked so sad, so hopeless.

Don knew it had had to be a shock for Charlie to realize that someone he trusted had taken advantage of him, but Don didn't realize how hard it would hit him emotionally. Don would have expected anger, but not this - this grief. 'He must have really looked up to Ian,' he thought, and the realization made him even angrier at Edgerton, and more than a little jealous.

It was near 5:00 now, and Don was sitting in his bed, scowling, when the intern came in with his release papers. His agents had returned a half hour ago, and had gotten no better response from Charlie than Don had, and were now out in the waiting room. The only one, in fact, that Charlie seemed to respond to at all was their father, and even that was limited.

Charlie was lying still with his eyes closed, but the expression of pain on his face gave away the fact that he was awake. He looked like he was near tears, and Don exchanged a glance with his father, who shook his head sadly. Don signed the papers with an irritated flourish, and accepted his discharge instructions impatiently. His gut roiled with emotion; fury with Ian, frustration at his inability to get through to his brother; fear for his condition, and sadness at Charlie's obvious despair. He slid angrily off the bed, shoving his copies of the papers into his bag.

He ignored the tentative knock at the door, until he heard his father say, "Amita!" in surprise, with relief and welcome in his voice. Don looked up quickly as she stepped tentatively into the room, and he threw a concerned glance at his brother.

Charlie had nearly reached a breaking point, overcome with despair, when he heard his father. His eyes flew open, and his heart fluttered with sudden hope as he saw her. She was a life raft, he felt, and he felt his spirits stir as he looked at her. Maybe there was someone left in his life, maybe… He caught a glimpse of someone over her shoulder, standing back at the doorway, and was jolted back to reality. She had brought him with her. This was nothing more than a polite visit to a friend. His heart fell with a sickening drop, and hit with an impact that jarred his very soul. Despair, even deeper, returned with a horrible thrust, like a knife in his gut.

He looked at her wordlessly, and she looked back at him with horror, mixed with pity and concern, as she saw his condition. "Charlie-," she began, but stopped when he closed his eyes and shook his head. His face contorted with emotion, and he turned his head away.

Don had seen Amita's boyfriend at the doorway, and when he turned, he caught Charlie's hopeful expression; then saw it fade as Charlie saw him too. Don felt a stab of pain himself as he saw Charlie's face contort, and then anger; anger at her, anger at the fact that his brother had to endure yet more pain when he was at his lowest. Don set his jaw and spoke to her sharply. "I think you'd better go." Amita looked at him, and back at Charlie, shock and indecision on her face, and Don saw Alan do the same thing, with a bewildered glance at the man hovering at the doorway.

"I said go."

"Donnie," protested Alan, looking back and forth at them helplessly and then at Charlie. His heart sank as he realized his youngest son was crying quietly, his face to the wall, his shoulders shaking in silent grief.

Amita looked at them wordlessly, stricken, and turned and walked out of the room, Don following her out with an angry determined hobble. Her boyfriend took one look at Don's face, and wisely stepped down the hallway. Don caught Amita by the arm just outside at the doorway and spun her around, his face black with fury. "Just what were you trying to accomplish here?" he hissed.

She looked at him, her mouth working, tears starting in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I just -,"

"Just what?" Don said angrily. He pulled her to the doorway and jabbed his finger at Charlie, who was still sobbing silently, the shaking of his shoulders visible even from the door. "Is that what you came to see? Rub your boyfriend in his face and see what he does? Are you happy now?" She stared at Charlie, tears coursing down her cheeks, and Don felt tears in his own eyes. He released her arm, and rubbed his face with his hand. "Get out of here," he said; his voice rough with emotion. She fled down the hallway, and Don stepped wearily back into the room, wincing at the pain in his leg.

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The agents were sitting in the waiting area, eating takeout, when they saw Amita approach the room.

"Hey, look who's here," said David, around a mouthful of burger.

Megan beamed. "Yeah, I called her at lunchtime. I thought she would cheer Charlie up a little." Megan's face dropped in confusion as she saw a tall blonde man walk into view behind Amita, and her heart sank as she saw him place a kiss on Amita's cheek outside the door.

"Who in the hell is that?" said Colby, looking at Megan.

"I don't know," she said, looking positively green. "Oh, no. This is not good."

They paused, sandwiches in hand, forgotten, staring at the door. They could see the man standing outside of it; then after a moment he turned and took off down the hallway. Amita came out a minute later, followed by Don, who barged out with an impatient hobble and grabbed her arm. Megan winced.

Colby watched his boss tear angrily out of the room for the second time that day. "This reminds me of a documentary I saw once. There was this mother bear, who kept charging out of her cave to protect her cubs." The other two just looked at him, and he looked back defensively. "You had to be there."

Megan watched Don turn and limp wearily back into the room, and she sighed. "Nah," she said softly. "I get it."

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