My Beautiful Doll

Warning: Some allusions to non-con but it's mostly in the form of medical information.

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMASSSSSS! Guess who got sick...again. Anyways, I'm back here in my home country and man, so many things have changed over the 8 months I've been gone. I miss the food and cars, but I definitely don't miss the air. Also good news, my bros didn't burn down my room, which is a plus. Anyways, I hope everyone has a wonderful christmas wherever you are and that your next years are fill with good fortune. Anyways, that's all from me, have a nice day!

Charlie paced around the room, feeling the walls close over him at a fixed rate, which didn't make sense. He knew the walls can't move, that they're structurally sound, that they can't crowd him. But here he was, feeling suffocated by something that shouldn't be able to. He could write a scientific paper on this if he cared enough.

Unfortunately for him, he was too preoccupied at the moment. As seconds turned to minutes and then hours, Charlie's mind couldn't help but wander to the events earlier.

"Where are they? They shouldn't be taking this long," he muttered anxiously, pacing back and forth. He ignored the looks of concern and pity that were written across the officer's faces as they waited with baited breath. Two ambulances were at the ready, one obviously for Don while the other was for any agent that got injured or god forbid… Baker.

Charlie couldn't help but feel a rush of anger and fury wash over him, overtaking his other emotions. He hoped that Baker died right then and there, because there was no entity on earth that could keep the bastard away from what he deserved. He looked at the ambulance with glowing hatred, something he's never felt before in his entire life.

It would be better if they just let the man die…

That thought went away as soon as it appeared, surprising him. Charlie flinched as he snapped out of his anger, feeling horrified at himself. He shouldn't be feeling this violent, not even for the most vile person in the universe. It wasn't right. He shouldn't want anyone to die, he knew Don would feel the same way too.

But Charlie couldn't help himself, a part of him still hoped that Baker didn't survive.

As Charlie's mind was in a whirlwind of rage, guilt, and worry, he heard a radio belonging to one of the officers crackle to life. He heard a voice say "Tell everyone to standby, we're coming out". Charlie instantly let out a sigh of relief, his body almost melting into the ground.

"We're almost done," he chanted to himself.

After what felt like forever, he could see the silhouettes of people walking towards them, a crowd of people in body armour. But, among those people, Charlie's eyes zeroed in on a familiar figure limping in between two people, the only one who wasn't wearing any protection.

Charlie couldn't help himself. As soon as he saw him, Charlie went running, not caring about any of the possible dangers. His mind was solely focused on one person and one person only. "Don…" He whispered before he ran, launching himself into his brother's arms. Don's head snapped up in shock before he held his arms out, stumbling a bit as Charlie threw himself into him, his embrace feeling like a warm safety blanket. Charlie was embarrassed to admit it, but he cried as soon as he felt Don catch him, reveling in the fact that his brother was there with him again.

"Hey buddy," Don's voice was soft and warm, albeit a little hoarse. Charlie cried harder as he clung even tighter. Don let out a soft chuckle, "I missed you too Chuck." He smiled affectionately, patting Charlie's head in an effort to soothe him.

"Don't…call…me…that…" he spoke in between hiccups, smiling at the fact that his brother was still able to joke around. "I thought I'd-" He cut himself off as he cried harder, not willing to entertain that horrific thought

"Hey, hey, hey," Don lightly scolded, hugging Charlie as fiercely as Charlie hugged him. "Everything's fine now. I'm okay," Charlie looked up and saw his brother smile, his eyes shining brightly despite the redness in them and the tear tracks that were still on his face.

"God Don!" Charlie said as he buried himself again into his brother's embrace.

"Oh buddy…" Don's tone was soft and comforting, "You don't need to worry anymore, okay? I'm just fine," he assured. But then his hold on Charlie tightened just a fraction, enough for Charlie to notice it as he felt Don bury his face in Charlie's hair.

"I'll always be fine…"

Charlie looked at his own hands, holding them into fists. He rarely ever felt truly helpless, alone, scared. He always had his brother by his side to assure him that everything would be okay, taking control of the situation so that Charlie wouldn't have to deal with the painful consequences. He never truly realized how much he relied on Don, how much Don covered for him, how much he was willing to do for Charlie up until the point when Baker took them hostage. Seeing Don give himself up so readily made Charlie wonder, had Don ever needed someone to help him feel safe as well? Did he have someone who protected him the way he protected everyone else?

Did he even have anyone to reassure him if things went wrong?

Charlie hated to admit it, but in some ways, Baker was right. Don was always the strongest one amongst them. The one who could still smile and joke despite the things he went through. The one who was able to sacrifice everything he had just so he could do the right thing and protect others. The one who would willingly hurt himself even if it meant that everyone else would be okay. Charlie was always too afraid to dig in deeper, scared of what he'll find. Scared that facing his problems would cause Don to be more broken, a shell of the man he once was.

Afraid that Don would leave him to face the world alone.

He was itching to go back to the boards, the pull of P vs NP calling out to him like a siren's song. But he shook his head, clenching his fists tighter. He told Don he wouldn't try and do it again. Knowing how much that equation brought nothing but pain and misery to his entire family, he vowed not to pick it up ever again.

He wasn't about to leave his brother again, not if he could help it.

He looked over at the bed, his brother sleeping peacefully. Far more peacefully that he's ever seen Don in his life, even when they were kids. Charlie almost forgot what he looked like without all those stress lines and tired eyes. Don also looked better than he did earlier, not as pale and certainly not as bloody as he was when he first stepped out of the forest. That cursed collar was also nowhere to be seen as Billy completely ripped it off as soon as they had the chance, earning a grateful sigh from Don.

Now, all we have to do is wait. The nurse had told them the extent of Don's injuries. A broken leg, a re-opened gunshot wound, slash wounds that were thankfully shallow, burn marks on his neck from the electric collar, and other injuries that were healing and closing up. But, there was one thing that worried him.

The doctor hesitated as he looked around at them, eyes darting from one face to another. "There is something else that you should know, but I think that only his family should listen to this."

As soon as Charlie heard that, he paled instantly. "No…please tell me you're wrong," he whispered, horrified. He looked towards the team for support, but they all looked guilty, their gazes turning everywhere but them. "Megan…what did you see?"

Megan couldn't look at him at first, but when he asked her again, she turned around, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "We tried to get there as fast as we could, but when we got in-" she stopped herself as her voice broke a bit.

Ian looked torn between angry and remorseful. "The bastard already had his hands in him, if we were a few minutes later, we would've completely lost him…"

"Unfortunately, that's not the only thing we found," the doctor said, turning everyone's attention towards him. God, what else? It can't be worse, can it?

Turns out, it always can.

The doctor tried to dissuade the rest of them from staying, but there was no one on earth more stubborn than a bunch of FBI agents and a worried brother. Logically it all made sense, Don would write a report on it anyways and they were going to be all over it, so in the end it didn't matter, they would find out the rest anyways. Plus, they already knew the first half, so it would be a moot point. But Charlie suspected that the real reason why his father allowed everyone to stay was so that they all had a support system they could rely on, along with needing the extra help to wrangle Don into submission whenever he decides to try something stupid again. Emotionally though? He felt like he was betraying his brother, opening his secrets up to random strangers that he's never met before.

He looked over at Don's sleeping figure, his face slack and peaceful. Probably the only peaceful moment he's had ever since this all started. Charlie couldn't help but shudder whenever he saw his brother. Here he was, looking just like he usually did, like there was nothing wrong. Hell! He was even able to smile and comfort him when Don emerged from the house. Little did Charlie know that just a few minutes earlier, Don was in the middle of being violated, crying as he begged his tormentor to stop.

Throughout the years he's known his brother, Don has never begged for anything, not even for his life.

The words "internal tearing" and "forced entry" swirling wildly in his mind along with the rest of the information. Then to find out from the doctor that they had found lesions inside his mouth along with traces of Baker's DNA? That they found out this wasn't a one time thing? Charlie had managed to beat his own personal record on how fast he could run to the bathroom before throwing up. A part of him wanted to block that information out of his brain for the rest of his life, hidden under layers and layers of math until he knew it would never see the light of day again. Another part of him held onto that information like a lifeline, forcing him to constantly think and agonize over what he did wrong. Wondering if he could've saved his brother by just being a bit faster.

Try as he might, he couldn't help but blame himself. He was too slow, he was too caught up in his own problems, he let himself get caught. Blame after blame that he threw at himself screamed in his mind, echoing the health report that the doctor had given them. This was all on him. He should've known better. He was always the one to crack the case open, to perform the miracle that will end up saving the day in the nick of time just in time for them to grab dinner at home and joke about the events that happened. He knew the statistics of him succeeding this often were unlikely, even with the math. But time after time again, he managed to get the information he needed just before something irreversible happened. He almost felt invincible. But, looking at his injured brother on the bed, it was clear that he wasn't. For once, he failed. And the worst part is, he failed on something that mattered to him the most.

The numbers eventually caught up and his brother was the one to pay the price.

Charlie didn't know if he could forgive himself. Oh he knew for a fact that Don wouldn't blame him or anyone for that matter. He'd blame Baker without question, but he'd never blame anyone for being too late. In all honesty, knowing his brother, Don would just blame himself. It was just what his brother was, someone who forgives just a little too easily when he shouldn't. Charlie didn't know where Don got the strength to smile even after everything, but he did. He did what he could to help Charlie even when he himself needed help. Worst of all, he never said a word. Charlie didn't realize this at first, but he had been severely taking his brother for granted. But now, he vowed that he would appreciate Don more. And looking at how everyone is acting, they were all thinking the same thing. This time, his brother wasn't going to go through this alone, none of them would let him.

As he sat down, he decided to take Don's hand, basking in the solid mass underneath his palm. The lack of sleep was catching up with him and he could feel his eyes droop. But he didn't want to leave Don alone since everyone else wasn't around at the moment. So, he decided to lean down on the bedside, careful not to jostle any injuries. As he laid his head on the bed and waited for sleep to claim him, a pesky thought escaped from the confines of his deepest thoughts.

While he knew Don would forgive him, a large part of him wished he didn't.

A/N: Let the angst train and healing arc beginnnnn! Also...how much do you wanna bet that what Don said was a damn lie?