The Hospital

The exam room was quiet as the nurse took his brother's vitals. Quiet but too bright. Hangovers and the accompanying light sensitivity was a concept Don was intimately familiar with from his more rambunctious years as a teen and young adult. He just wished this was a hangover, something a few bottles of water, a couple painkillers, and some sleep would take care of. But Charlie couldn't show up to his apartment drunk like a normal sibling, he had to show up drugged with amnesia and a black eye.

Thankfully, the emergency room hadn't been all that busy. Flashing his badge and telling the receptionist he needed a tox screen and a urinalysis done as fast as possible had bumped them to the top of the list and they were whisked away to an exam room after only a brief wait where he barely got his brother's info all jotted down and texted David to check out the diner before they were called back.

He'd spent the last fifteen minutes pacing around the room, checking his watch. Checking his phone. Checking his watch again. The nurse who had led them back had drawn blood and sent Charlie off to pee in a cup before doing anything else. That nurse had vanished with the blood and urine, leaving them alone for a while.

Then a different nurse had shown up.

To his relief, the nurse that was taking care of his brother wasn't Nurse Ratched. She was an older black woman with laugh lines on her face, donned in Spongebob scrubs. She had taken one look at Charlie when she walked in and adopted a low, even voice and a tender touch as she took his blood pressure, oxygen, temperature, and asked questions. His brother's answers were short. Timid. Sometimes he'd glance toward Don, squinting against the harsh overhead lighting.

Don didn't know why he kept glancing at him before he answered the nurse's questions. Was he checking to make sure he was giving the right answer? Only Charlie would know what the right answer was. Or was he checking to make sure Don wasn't going to catch him trying to lie, to gloss over his condition to the nurse? So far he hadn't heard anything like that. Or was it a comfort thing, to make sure he hadn't slipped out of the room? Don had promised he wouldn't, even if finding answers was taking too long for his liking and he wanted to start shaking trees to see what would fall out.

The frustration traveled in bolts of electricity up and down his back, looping around his shoulder blades and into his neck muscles. He reached the end of his circuit next to the door and paused to look at Charlie. His heart ached. This wasn't a tenured genius math professor. This was his kid brother. Scared. Nervous. Unsure.

The image of Charlie curled over himself making himself small on the edge of the bed brought a memory to the fore of Don's mind. A memory he'd forgotten about. Typically he only remembered a highlight reel of high school, of his greatest achievements. But this one wasn't a highlight. He couldn't recall it in great detail, but he remembered passing by the nurse's office on his way to pay the principal a visit and remembered seeing his twelve year old brother sitting curled on the edge of the bed much like he was right now, except he'd been holding an icepack to his jaw then. There may have been a fist fight once Don had figured out who had struck his brother. He couldn't quite remember the whole thing, only that he'd been careful to confront the kid after school in the park so as to not garner an unholy amount of detention hours.

The familiar sense of outrage that someone had dared mess with his brother bubbled in his gut. Except this time he had the means to arrest someone. To throw them in a dark hole for a decade. To do worse than rough them up.

He thumped his fist against the wall.

"Sir?"

The cold fury dwindled to the backburner at the nurse's voice. He looked over. She was giving him an unimpressed look and even Charlie was looking at him apprehensively.

"You either need to take a breath and calm down, or I'm going to have you step into the hall," she said.

"Sorry," he said. He held his hands up in a peaceful gesture and followed his circuit back over to the bed.

There he stopped. He rested his hand on Charlie's shoulder, using the contact to ground himself as much as to offer support to his brother. The nurse eyed him and the gear on his belt and then finally turned her attention back to the clipboard in her hands. His brother tipped his head slightly to look up at him from under the hand he had shading his eyes from the harsh overhead lighting. They were bloodshot and watering, though he didn't know if it was from an overload of emotions or from the lights or from the drugs or from sheer exhaustion. Possibly a combination of all four.

"Okay, honey." They looked back at the nurse. She swiveled away to dig into one of the cabinets. "I'm going to go give the doctor your file. You can put this on when I leave."

She set the folded open-back gown on the bed next to Charlie. He stared at it for a second then shifted his gaze back up to Don. The nurse followed his nervous glance.

"When we both leave," she clarified, and it was then Don realized she wasn't just being kind to Charlie, she was being protective of him. She perked a brow at him. "If you don't mind, Agent."

"He's my brother," Charlie interjected quietly.

Her other brow joined the first and a new look of understanding flashed over her face. She nodded and he sensed her hackles settle.

"Charlie? I can stay if you want me to, or I can step out. Your choice," he said.

Charlie tugged the gown into his lap and closed his eyes as he dropped the hand shading them. "It's okay, bro. I'll be okay."

"Alright. I'll be just outside the door," he said. He gave his shoulder a gentle pat and followed the nurse out of the room.

Once out in the hallway and once the door had clicked shut, the nurse turned toward him. "Should've realized you were brothers."

"Some people see the family resemblance, some don't," he said distractedly as he pulled his phone off his belt.

"No. It was the way you kept looking at him."

He frowned. "Yeah? How's that?"

"Like you were going to beat the next person that looked at him funny," she said.

"That obvious?"

"Honey, at first I thought you were the usual high strung law enforcement officer, but I can see it now. You've got 'angry big brother' written across your forehead." She cracked a warm smile at him. "He's lucky to have someone like you taking care of him."

He watched her disappear down the hallway. The angry big brother in him sure did want to beat someone, but he didn't know who should be on the receiving end. Shaking his head, he flipped open his phone and dialed David. The line connected and there was no preamble.

"Hey Don. I found something."

"That's what I want to hear."

"I caught a partial plate from the security footage from the corner store. Managed to get a hold of the driver that picked up Charlie. He said he picked him up in a residential area halfway between Charlie's place and yours, from outside a liquor store. I've got the exact address written down here. Cab driver said he thought he was just plastered and needed a ride home."

"Okay. That's a good start." That was one lead. If they couldn't start from the beginning, they'd start from the end and work their way backwards to see why Charlie was at that liquor store, and he didn't think it had anything to do with buying or drinking alcohol. "What about the diner angle?"

"The diner closes at midnight. I'm planning on getting there first thing when it opens with a warrant for the footage. How's Charlie?"

"Hard to tell right now," he said. He pinched the bridge of his nose and pressed his back against the wall, closing his eyes momentarily. With him not having to stay strong for his brother at the moment, the long week and even longer night was starting to catch up with him. "I've got a feeling it was some kind of roofie. Symptoms lineup."

"Guessing the results haven't come back yet."

"Nah. They should have at least the urinalysis back soon."

There was a beat of silence.

"Don, I hate to ask…"

"I don't know, David," he cut him off. Didn't want to hear someone else say it out loud.

He peeled his eyes open to stare at the tiles. As an agent, he'd seen all the terrible things people did to each other, everything from kidnapping to murder to torture to rape, had seen the victims and the aftermath, and though he wasn't a particularly religious man, he prayed his brother wouldn't be among them.

"I hope not." The words escaped before he could stop them.

"Yeah, me too. Hey, there's something else -"

A squeaky shoe let him know someone was coming down the hallway. He looked up.

"Hold on, this might be his doctor."

The petite Latina woman in the floral scrubs grinned and extended her hand. "Melanie told me not to worry about the angry big brother posted outside the door."

Heat crept up his neck in an embarrassed flush as he shook her hand. "Don Eppes."

"Doctor Hernandez," she said. She gestured to the door. "You coming back in or staying out here?"

"If Charlie wants me in there, I'll come back in. Otherwise I'll stay here," he said. His brother deserved a bit of privacy if he wanted it.

"I'll ask and come get you if he does," she said. She lightly tapped on the door and he vaguely heard his brother's voice respond. The doctor let herself in, pulling the door closed behind her slowly. "Hi, Charlie. I'm Doctor Hernandez…"

He lifted his phone back to his ear. "That was his doctor. What were you saying?"

"When I got to the office, Megan was still here. She knows what's going on and she might -"

"Show up?" he asked. He spotted his new profiler at the end of the hallway.

"She got there fast. Sorry, Don, I would've let you know sooner, but I was on the phone with the cab company."

"It's fine. Start going over the neighborhood Charlie was picked up in, see if the liquor store has any footage and what else is in the area."

"Will do. Let me know what's up with our boy, okay?"

"I'll call later," he said. He flipped his phone shut and pushed off the wall. Megan strode towards him with a duffle bag slung over one shoulder. "Wasn't expecting to see you here tonight. How'd you get back here?"

"Held up my badge."

"What were you doing at the office so late?"

"Putting some finishing touches on a few reports," she said. She stopped an arm's reach away and dropped the duffle bag next to her feet. "How's your brother?"

"Doctor's in with him right now," he said. He pointed. "What's with the duffle?"

"I figured you're going to want to keep his clothes for forensics, so I grabbed some sweats, a shirt, and a pair of shoes for Charlie to wear once he's released," she said. He was touched she had thought of that, because he certainly hadn't. Then she leveled those analytical green eyes on him. He refused to squirm like he did the first time she stared at him like that. "How are you holding up?"

He broke eye contact to glance at his watch. "Someone drugged and punched my kid brother and he came to me looking for help in the middle of the night. How do you think?"

"I think you're doing remarkably well," she said.

That wasn't the answer he was expecting.

"Probably too well."

There it was.

"What do you want me to do? Lose control and put my fist through a wall?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light and not colored by the anger, fear, and guilt that had been percolating over the last hour.

"Better a wall than someone's face."

Her spot-on description of how he was feeling rose the hairs on the back of his neck. If he hadn't promised Charlie he'd stay with him, he'd be out there questioning eyewitnesses. Perhaps too aggressively. It was entirely likely that his being with Charlie was as good for his brother as it was for himself. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could admit he probably shouldn't be out in the field, knowing if this had happened to one of his agent's siblings he would remove them from the case.

"I'll be fine once I know what's going on," he said.

She didn't let on if she believed him or not, instead she switched gears. "Does he have any idea who would've drugged him?"

"No, I don't think so," he said.

He recounted the evening to her while they waited. It took a great amount of effort on his part to detach himself and give the barebones version of the story, to not let any of his personal opinions and feelings bleed through, because the longer he talked, the more he realized the agent wasn't as in control as he'd initially thought. The big brother was fuming and waiting for an outlet. Except the big brother wasn't a teenager who only had fists at his disposal anymore. The big brother now had a gun.

They lapsed into silence before he spilled too much of the inner turmoil going on inside his brain.

"We'll find who did this, Don," Megan said after a while.

He nodded. As soon as he could get Charlie home, he'd join the search.

Home.

"Oh man," he groaned and ran a hand over his face.

"What?"

"I haven't called my dad," he said.

Megan looked at him steadily. "Do you want me to call him?"

"No. It'll be better if it comes from me," he said. Of course, it wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation no matter who called or what was said.

The phone rang almost all the way through before it was picked up at the last second.

"Hello? Donnie, is that you?"

"Hey, Dad."

"What's wrong?"

Don grimaced. Middle of the night phone calls never meant good news, and he didn't know how he should phrase it to soften the blow. "I'm at the hospital with Charlie."

"What? What happened? Is he okay?"

"He's fine. Just has a black eye and some holes in his memory," he said. He caught Megan staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He shook his head at her. "Did you see him at all this afternoon?"

"Did I see him? No. He was at the school most of the day, said he had to work on enrollment for some of his upcoming classes and had some meetings and may not be back until late. What do you mean he has some holes in his memory? How did he get a black eye? What aren't you telling me?"

"It's a long story, Dad -"

"You know what, never mind. I'm coming down there. Which hospital are you at?"

"No, you don't need to come down. It's late and he's going to be released soon. I'm bringing him back to the house," he said.

"Don -"

"I'll explain more when we get home, okay?"

There was a tense pause.

"Fine. But I expect a full explanation."

The door to the exam room opened and the doctor stepped out.

"I've gotta let you go so I can talk to the doctor. See you in a bit," he said and hung up before his dad could argue. He scanned the doctor's face for any clues of how it went. "How is he?"

Hernandez looked behind him.

As much as he didn't want his brother's privacy invaded, it was too late for that. His agents were going to need to know all the details if they were going to find the responsible party.

"This is Agent Reeves. She'll be helping with the investigation," he said.

"Alright," Hernandez said slowly. "I was going to go see if I could find some scrubs for your brother to wear, as I'm guessing you'll want to keep his clothes for evidence purposes?"

Megan kicked the duffle at her feet. "I brought him some clothes."

"Oh, good." Hernandez smiled briefly. "If you want to take the new clothes in and sit with him while I go check on the lab work, you're free to do so. I think he could use your company."

His heart dropped at her choice of words and the need to know what he was about to walk into intensified. "Did you find anything?"

Her brows drew together and she considered him quietly for a handful of seconds until she caught his drift. A small hand settled on his arm. "Since Charlie told me it was alright if I talk to you, I just want to say I've been a doctor for many years and have seen a lot of bad things during exams. From what I saw, it is my honest opinion no one touched Charlie except for the bruising around his left eye. I'm still going to run an STD panel just to be sure, but I believe there was no sexual assault."

The knot he hadn't realized had been growing in his chest loosened. The slackening tension took half his energy with it as it slid off his shoulders and left butterflies in his stomach, leaving him lightheaded. He didn't even notice the doctor had disappeared and Megan had replaced her spot in front of him until she pressed the duffle bag strap into his hand.

"Go in there and see your brother. I'll update David."

He nodded numbly.

"Don."

He looked up from the floor.

"Do you want me to take Charlie's statement?" Megan asked.

Right. That was something that still needed done. He took a deep breath and marshaled his thoughts the best he could. "He doesn't remember much."

"I know, but you know we need to take whatever he can provide," she said.

How many times had he done the same thing to a victim when they were still reeling from an attack? He didn't like being on the other side of it. He hated that his brother was on the other side of it.

"Let me talk to him first. If he's willing, you can take it before we leave," he said.

Megan offered him a tiny grin. "I'll go get us some coffee while you're in there."

Then he was alone in the hallway.

He evened out his breathing and passed a hand over his face again, attempting to put the mask back on before he walked in. Only one brother was allowed to have his emotions all over the place, and that wasn't him. In this sudden storm in their lives, Charlie needed him to be his anchor and he would be that anchor without hesitation. He was always the anchor. Would always take the thrashing of the waves if it kept his family afloat.

He rapped his knuckles on the door and poked his head in at the muffled response.

"Hey, Buddy," he said and pushed the door closed behind him.

Charlie sat on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around his middle and swinging heels tapping at the underside of the bed. He was a shade paler than he had been before the doctor's visit, which made the rosiness on his cheeks that much more visible and the bruising that much starker. The fiery licks of anger rose up again inside Don. While both the big brother and agent in him were immensely relieved that nothing untoward had happened, someone had still hurt his brother and it pissed him off.

He swallowed and uncurled his fingers from a fist as he crossed the comfortably lit room. At least the doctor had seen fit to turn off the overhead lights and flipped on a dimmer set of lights over the sink, so his brother wasn't squinting in pain.

"Megan brought you some clothes," he said as he set the duffle on the bed.

"Megan?"

"The new profiler I told you about over the weekend," he said. He unzipped the duffle and rifled through it, noting the empty evidence bag and the FBI sweats. He held up a shirt. "Looks like she raided my locker down at the office."

"Stockton Rangers," Charlie murmured and accepted the shirt. He rubbed his thumbs over the collar. Don wondered if he was counting threads to put his mind at ease.

When he said nothing more, he stepped back from the bed. "If you want to get changed, I can step out."

Charlie's head snapped up with wide eyes. "You can stay."

"Sure. No problem," he said. "I'll just face the corner."

While he stared at the cream colored paint and listened to the shuffling sounds of his brother changing, he found himself debating what he was going to do once he got Charlie home. Originally, he'd been planning on handing him over into the care of their dad and heading out to help hunt down the perpetrator, but Charlie's reaction to him stepping out of the room just now gave him pause.

"Okay."

"Coast is clear?" he asked.

"Yeah."

Don turned around and couldn't help the grin.

"What?" Charlie questioned.

"Nothing. Just thinking about how you've finally managed to steal my clothes," he teased. He moved the duffle to the floor and sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

Charlie fidgeted with the hem of the too big shirt. The corner of his mouth twitched. "You always did have cool stuff."

"Perk of being the oldest." Don reached up and ruffled his hair. "It's about time that shirt went to a new home, anyway."

"Hey!" Charlie objected and batted his hand away. He brushed his curls away from his eyes, but kept them cast toward the hem of the shirt. Don watched his fingers interlock and unlock over and over, sliding over each other in a self-soothing pattern. "Um…the doctor. Did she tell you?"

"She told me."

Charlie nodded. Don moved from watching his hands to watching his face. A single tear trailed from his eye down the side of his nose. He didn't say anything. Wasn't even sure what to say. The boys of the Eppes family had never known how to handle each other's emotions; it was always Margaret who had acted as the emotional mediator between them. What would their mom do in this situation? Smother Charlie in kisses and hugs? She would definitely know the right thing to say. She always knew how to comfort his little brother.

Don settled for leaning his shoulder against his brother's. For a moment Charlie simply wilted the opposite direction before returning the pressure.

"I…" Charlie swallowed. He sniffed and thumbed the stray tear away. "I was really scared after I realized what could've happened. Sounds kind of dumb now."

"Nah. It's not dumb." Don leaned harder against him. His own fears resurfaced and he prepared himself to do something he rarely did. "You want to know something?"

"Hmm?"

"I was scared, too."

Charlie glanced at him. "Really?"

"Yeah, Charlie. It makes my gut churn when I come across rape cases, and when you showed up drugged and confused and bruised, that possibility leapt into my mind. But it was so much worse. The thought of my brother, of you…of someone doing that to you?"

Charlie tilted his head until it was resting on his shoulder.

Don gritted his teeth at the honest emotion that had taken him by surprise and the unwanted burning that had leapt into his eyes. Deep breath in. Blink. And out. This was why he didn't open up much. Blink. In. And out. Blink. His heart rate dropped to a normal rhythm and the tears retreated.

"So yeah. I was scared, too."

Charlie sighed. "It's probably an anomaly that it didn't happen."

"I'll take what I can get," he said.

A minute of silence ticked by until Charlie broke it.

"Why?"

Don tipped his head toward his brother. Curls brushed his cheek.

"Why would someone do this? What did I do to them?"

"Most likely nothing. There're a lot of messed up people in the world, Charlie. But we're going to find out who did it. They're not going to get away with it, you hear me?"

"I hear you," Charlie whispered.

There was a light knock and the doctor peeked in.

Charlie straightened from leaning against him, but kept his leg firmly pressed against his as the doctor alighted on the swivel chair and rolled closer to the bed.

"Other than being slightly dehydrated, the only thing that came back from your bloodwork and urinalysis was the presence of flunitrazepam in your system," Hernandez said.

Someone had roofied his brother. He'd been right. Now the questions were who, why, and where.

Charlie looked at him in confusion.

"It's a benzo. Usually a date rape drug," he explained.

"Oh."

He detected a shiver where his leg was pressed against his brother's. He dropped his hand to his knee and squeezed.

"Yes. It's odorless and tasteless. Unfortunately, I've seen my fair share of it. We're still waiting on the STD panel and most likely won't have the results until tomorrow," Hernandez continued. "Is there someone you can stay with temporarily?"

"He lives with our dad," Don spoke before his brother could. He darted a look at him then went back to the doctor. "And I'll be staying over at the house tonight. Don't really feel like driving there and then clear back to my apartment or office."

Charlie probably didn't buy his lame excuse, but he didn't look at him to see his expression. He felt him droop in relief next to him and that was all the proof he needed to know he was making the right call. The anchor needed to stay with the boat to be of any use.

"Good," Hernandez said. She looked between the both of them. "As for symptom relief, I suggest some electrolytes, water, maybe something light to eat like soup, and sleep. An icepack wrapped in a cloth will help with the swelling around your eye, too."

"So I can go home?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. You're free to leave. If your symptoms persist throughout the next day or two or increase in severity, you need to come back, otherwise I imagine you'll be feeling better by lunch tomorrow. Feel free to call if you have any questions. Also, our lab will call you with the results from the STD panel."

Don slid off the bed. He hovered a hand just under Charlie's elbow as he stood, but the unsteadiness from earlier seemed to have gone away. The doctor said a few parting words to Charlie while he busied himself gathering his brother's clothes into the evidence bag, set it in the unzipped duffle bag, and shouldered the strap.

They followed the doctor to the door. Don put a hand out and stopped Charlie before they entered the hallway.

"Hey. I know you probably just want to go home, but we need a statement while it's still fresh," he said.

Charlie tucked his arms across his chest and curled his shoulders inward. "Do I have to? I hardly remember anything."

"I know. But we don't have to go down to the police station or the office. Megan said she'll take it before we leave the hospital."

Charlie looked at him warily.

"Come on, Buddy." He wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him snugly against his side. "I think you'll like her."

Charlie didn't argue the point further, so he took that as confirmation he would let Megan take his statement.

He guided them through the door and Charlie immediately started squinting again in the lighting. His hand came up to shade his eyes. Don winced on his behalf. If it wasn't the middle of the night he would've had his sunglasses on him to plop on his brother's face. They would just have to hurry out into the dark and away from the aggravating lights.

At the end of the hallway, Megan stood with a cup of coffee in each hand. Her face brightened when she saw them.

"Hey, guys," she greeted quietly and handed one of the coffees to him. "Mind if I walk with you?"

"We're headed to the SUV," Don said. He gave her a subtle nod.

"Lead the way," she said.

As they walked, he knew she was analyzing his brother with the same inescapable stare she had used on him, though Charlie remained oblivious to it. He was grateful she opted to not try to engage in conversation while they were in the brightly lit emergency department. It wasn't until they had stepped outside into the blissfully dark night peppered with street lamps and high rise lights that she talked.

"Sorry we aren't meeting under better circumstances, Professor Eppes. I'm Megan," she said.

Obviously their father's method of raising them kicked in and Charlie offered a hand to her. "You can call me Charlie. Don told me you're a profiler."

"That's what it says on my resume," she said. In the soft yellow glow of the parking lot lamps Don saw her smile. "You know, I was excited when I found out I was being transferred to your brother's team."

"Don's a good agent."

He held onto his shoulders a little tighter and hoped he didn't sing his praises too high. His emotions had worn too thin to handle it.

"I have no doubt. But I was more intrigued by the fact that he not only has a mathematician regularly consulting on cases, but that you're brothers. My sisters and I could never work together like that," she said. "One of us would wind up throwing one of the others through a window."

"I'm sure there have been a few times Don's wanted to toss me through the window."

His heart skipped a beat and he looked at his brother. There was a cheeky grin on Charlie's face.

"Hey now," he said, purposefully trying and failing to hide a guilty smile. He slid his arm off his shoulders and dug into his pocket for the keys once they were close enough to the SUV. "I've only wanted to do that once. Maybe twice."

"From what I've seen, if he ever tossed anybody through a window, it definitely wouldn't be you, Charlie," Megan said and delicately laid a hand on Charlie's arm. Her good humored grin faded. "Did Don ask you about giving a statement?"

"Oh. Yeah." Charlie ran his hand across the back of his neck and nodded. "I can do that."

It didn't take very long. Don had flicked on the interior lights so Megan could see to write, which left Charlie to cover his eyes again and slump in the passenger seat. Then she came around to the driver's said to collect his. It was an even shorter statement and he signed the evidence bag over to her once he was done, and was able to at last turn off the interior lights. The breath of relief from his brother was audible.

"Okay," Megan said. She braced herself between the open door and the frame. "I'm going to head back to the office and see what David's got. Are you coming down to the office after you take him home?"

Don glanced at the rumpled shadow on the other side of the cab. "I'm going to stay at the house. I don't know who went after Charlie or why and I want to stay close."

She nodded knowingly. "I figured as much. You want me to call with updates as they come in? Or wait until tomorrow?"

"Just call," he said.

"Okay. Might want to try and get some sleep in the meantime, Boss. Coffee does wonders, but it's not magic," she said.

As she stepped away and he grabbed his door to pull it shut, he called, "Hey, Megan."

She turned. "Yeah?"

"Thanks," he said.

She smiled. "You guys sure know how to make a newbie feel welcome."

A smile tried to form on his face as he closed his door. Honestly, he was glad she was able to connect with his brother so quickly and get his statement without much of a fuss. Something told him she was going to work out nicely on his team.

"Ready to go home, Buddy?" he asked and cranked the engine.

A soft snore was his only reply.

To be continued…

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