CHAPTER ELEVEN

Waking up slowly, Don moved his head slightly and felt a movement next to him. Memories of the recent events came back instantaneously and he knew he was in hospital. He opened his eyes and the corners of his mouth started to curl up. Alan was standing on his left, Robin on his right and Charlie at the end of the bed. For some reason, he found that funny and smiled widely.

"Hmm, someone is in a good mood," Robin joked. She kissed him on his brow.

Alan had mixed feelings. He was upset because his son was in hospital… again, but he was also amused by the loopy grin on Don's face. "Yes, looks like someone has received a dose of happy drugs," he replied with the same tone.

"Come on guys. Show some pity. He's in no condition to fight back." Charlie really felt sorry for Don. He had suffered the same attack from Amita and his father a few days earlier. He looked at his brother who was still smiling so, apparently, Don was taking the situation better than he did.

The agent took a careful breath and noticed he didn't feel any pain. They were right. He was on painkillers! He hated painkillers! Not that he liked to be in pain but it was the not-so-in-control part that came with the drugs that always worried him, in case he let his guard down and said something he shouldn't.

They saw his mood changing and Alan became serious again. "It's good to see back with us. You were out for a long time and you lost a lot of blood."

"But you're ok now," Charlie finished as he glared at his father. What was wrong with him? And suddenly, he remembered their conversation about the stabbing. Obviously, the elderly man had trouble coping with this new incident. "I think Dad has one or two things he'd like to tell you," he said.

It was now Alan's turn to glare at Charlie.

The mathematician walked over to his father and murmured, "It's the perfect time, Dad. He's in bed and half-drugged. He won't be able to run away before you're finished and, chances are, he won't remember everything next time he wakes up... Come on, Dad. You need to talk to him."

Alan took a deep breath and nodded. He wasn't sure it was the best time but he definitely needed to have this conversation with his son at some point. Robin followed Charlie outside, a questioning look on her face.

Once alone with his father, Don asked warily, "Am I in trouble?"

Alan looked at him with an amused and affectionate smile. "No Donnie. You're not."

That didn't reassure him much. "But I did something wrong."

The elderly man sat next to Don's bed and took his hand, making sure not to touch his IV. He shook his head. "No, you did nothing wrong, son."

Don frowned. He really couldn't see what was going on then, and those drugs didn't help him to think. "So what is it?"

Alan breathed deeply through the nose and pursed his lips. It was harder than he thought. No wonder his eldest had problems confiding in anyone when his own father couldn't either.

Don looked at his dad without a word and squeezed his hand gently to encourage him.

Alan smiled at him warmly and said, "No, you did nothing wrong, Don. I'm… I'm just trying to adjust to the fact that I almost lost you a few months ago. And to see you hurt again… It's hard to… I'm just scared that…" He sighed and closed his eyes, unable to carry on. He just couldn't say it.

"You're scared that I could die before you?" Don said quietly.

Alan stared at him and nodded. "No parent should outlive their children."

"Dad… Listen, I know I scared everyone… me included!… Believe me, I'm trying to adjust too, you know. These last past three years have been a bit… I don't know... like a puzzle with missing pieces that I've been trying to find. The… stabbing was like a turning point in my life… almost a revelation… no, a transition rather. I mean… I'm still looking for some missing pieces but some others I found."

"Like what?" Alan asked, both relieved and curious.

Don squinted to try to explain how he was feeling. It was difficult because he didn't know himself. "Not quite an internal peace; more like a different approach to life." He stopped to think then nodded and said to his father as much as to himself, "No… a part of me is definitely more at peace."

"And the other part?"

Don laughed softly. "One thing at a time, Dad. It took me forty years to reach that state of mind..." He became serious again. "What I'm trying to say is that I want different things in my life, now. Work isn't everything anymore. Don't get me wrong, it's still important but… I… I want so much more. I'm expecting so much more from this existence. And I'm planning on working on it, even if, right now, it's not clear what I want."

"It's good to hear it, Don. I just wish you'd stop taking so many risks."

"I don't take as many as I used too." He stopped short, realizing that he shouldn't have said that but it was too late. Damned drugs! He knew that would happen! He carried on, a little more cautious, "Not that I took many before."

"Of course not," Alan answered dryly. His eyes locked on his son's. "Listen, I can't expect you to change radically. I don't want you to, actually. It's the way you are and I'm used to it. No, what worried me was the reasons you were taking those risks… So I'm glad…, and relieved, to hear that you've found some serenity, at last. I think I will be able to find some too, now."

A knock on the door interrupted them. It was pushed half open and Colby's head appeared.

"May we come in?"

"Please do. I haven't had the chance to thank you for saving my sons' lives," replied Alan

"No problem, Mr. Eppes. We would do it again tomorrow without hesitation." When he saw Alan's face change, the agent added quickly, "In a manner of speaking, of course."

Charlie and Robin came back, soon followed by Amita then Liz, Nikki and Ian Edgerton.

"Man, there are more people in this room than at the FBI during working hours," Don stated ironically. Then he returned into full professional mode. "What happened to Isabella Mansini?"

"She's going to be charged with second degree murder. She admitted to have told her brother about the getaway car. They booby-trapped it, knowing that would intensify the war gang. She also corroborated what Adriano told Charlie in the cabin."

"They planned this blood bath just to take over the three gangs and control the whole area," Liz confirmed, appalled.

"Apparently, it wasn't their first attempt. They tried something similar in New York but things went sour and they decided to come to LA. They changed their identities and raised their ambitions… The crazy thing is: it could've worked. We were their..." David turned to Charlie. "What did you call it last time? Black swan?"

Charlie smiled, amused and proud that the agent remembered one of his analogies. "Yes, black swan. They didn't expect the software that protects from identity fraud to be a trap from the FBI."

"The Mansinis tried to take advantage of it, though," Colby carried on. "Isabella convinced Mickey that the Pumas had given them up to the police. "

"So, it was the Lobos who exterminated the Pumas? Not the 771?" Don was surprised.

"Yes," David confirmed. "Apparently, Adriano was right about one thing: they were very good at manipulating people."

"What about Mickey?"

"LAPD managed to catch him. He's in custody for the moment but I'll make sure he's charged with murder. Same thing for Manuel Ramirez and Co, the leaders of the 771." Robin didn't intend to let any of these guys go free. "I'll do what it takes but they're all going to jail," she announced with a tone that left no doubt about her intentions.

Don rested his head against the pillow. "Good job everyone."

"When are you leaving the hospital, Eppes?" Ian asked.

"Tomorrow morning hopefully."

"I would go for the afternoon, if I were you, Don," Alan advised. "Then, complete rest for a whole week," he reminded his son with a severe tone, knowing that Don already had other plans in mind. "Remember what you've just told me about work? So take the time to heal properly before rushing after more armed felons."

Don smiled lazily. The drugs were kicking in again and he was fighting hard to keep his eyes open. Eventually, he gave up, closed his eyes and sighed.

Silently, everyone left the room, except Alan and Robin who sat, as comfortably as possible, in the chairs by his side.

Charlie looked one last time at his brother before closing the door behind him. He stared at him to reassure himself. He knew he was going to be alright but, twice in less than a week, he had flown his brother to hospital and, even though the agent had managed to stay conscious during most of the second flight, telling him he was going to be fine, the mathematician had been terrified of losing his brother. He suddenly realized that his father was not the only one who had trouble coping with Don's work and wounds. He shut the door slowly and walked away. He had something to do.

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Charlie turned the key quietly and pushed the door slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, expecting to find his brother sleeping on the couch. Don was on the sofa alright but he was busy reading something. The professor walked over to him, his head slightly cocked, curious. Before Charlie could get close enough to see what his brother was doing, Don whipped his head around, closed the folder he was holding and, instinctively, hid it behind his back before looking up. Seeing it was his younger brother, he sighed with relief and put the folder back on his lap.

"You're working," Charlie stated accusingly.

"No, not really. David asked me to have a look at a case. He wants my opinion, that's all. Nothing more."

"Mmhmm. You know that Dad's gonna be mad at you if he learns you're working."

Don looked up at his younger brother and squinted. "He'll only know if you tell him," he said with a dangerous tone but his eyes were humorous.

Charlie saw the look on his brother's face and smiled mischievously: it was like a trip back in time, when they were kids and kept squabbling. "Ok, but that's gonna cost you, bro."

Don smiled back and replied, still with the same dangerous tone. "Oh, I'd be very careful about what I said if I were you, little brother."

"Come on, you're not exactly in a condition to threaten anyone right now."

Don put the folder next to him on the sofa and slowly got up, pretending to be upset. "Could you say that again?"

Charlie started to laugh, his right hand in front of him in defense. "Okay, okay. Truce… Look at us! Both wearing a splint and trying to fight like kids. It's almost pathetic."

"Hey! Talk for yourself!" Don retorted before laughing too. He had to admit, it was funny. Both brothers were standing face to face, like a reverse image: Charlie with his left arm immobilized and Don with his right arm.

Still laughing, Don shook his head and sat back. "Ok, I'll let you slide this time… What's that?" he asked, pointing at the two padded envelopes his brother was holding.

Charlie looked down at the parcels before replying, "My message to Amita. You want to hear it?"

"Uh Charlie, it's too personal. I mean… It's between you and Amita."

"Yeah, but it was your idea so…" He sat on the armchair opposite his brother. "It wasn't simple at first but once I started, words came easily."

Don smiled and nodded to show he understood. "I know."

Charlie fidgeted in his chair and leaned slightly forward. "May I… May I ask you something?"

Don gestured him to go ahead.

"What gave you the idea to record a message to Robin?"

Don bit his lower lip and looked down, visibly uncomfortable. He hesitated for a short instant then started, "After being stabbed, I realized how fragile life was. It can stop just like that… at any time." He sighed and ran his good hand through his hair. "I wanted… needed to tell her how I felt about her, to let her know what she meant to me… in case… you know… something happened and…" he trailed off and winced. That was not the kind of conversation he wanted to have with his brother, or anyone else for that matter.

A sad look crossed Charlie's face. "I know what you mean… I… " He cleared his throat. "That's why I recorded that for you," he said, holding out one of the envelopes.

Don stared at him, taken aback and, after a couple of seconds, took the envelope.

"Do me a favor: listen to it when I'm not there, ok? It's already embarrassing enough."

Don was still trying to recover from his surprise. "Oh! Sure… Why… why did you record me a message?"

"You remember telling me once that I intimidated you?"

Don nodded. Oh yes! He remembered!

"Well, I can say the same about you."

The agent's eyebrows shot up. "I intimidate you? Even now? Oh, come on Charlie. We're not kids anymore."

The professor half-smiled. "It's not a question of age, Don. You're my big brother. I'm proud of who you are and what you do. But sometimes…Well, let's just say that you are not the easiest person to talk to when the subject of the conversation is you. Not to mention that, when you feel threatened, you tend to run away."

"Threatened? Should I be worried about what's on it?" he inquired, lifting the DVD slightly.

"No. It's the opposite, actually."

Don frowned, totally mystified. "Charlie, you can talk to me at any time… about anything… You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, but there are some things that are difficult to discuss."

Don's frown deepened. "Like what?"

"Life …and death. The fear of seeing you die. It took us six years to become close again. During that time, I have learned to appreciate what you do, who you really are… I just needed to express my feelings through words… And as you said, sometimes it's easier when the person is not in front of you."

Don nodded several times slowly. "Ok." Then he smiled cheekily. "Now, who's the big softy?"

Charlie got up and protested, "Hey, I don't pretend to be a tough guy. I'm just a mathematician."

"Yeah, I guess I should be thankful. You could've written me an equation or created an algorithm instead." He became serious again and looked at his brother in the eyes, touched. "Thanks, Charlie. "

A car stopped in the driveway and Charlie quickly glanced outside.

"It's Dad."

Don leaped to his feet. "Oh man! I'm dead if he sees that I was working." He grabbed his folder and rushed upstairs just as Alan entered the house.

"Hey Charlie... What's up with your brother? Is he alright?" He stared at Charlie suspiciously. "You weren't arguing, were you?"

Charlie looked at the stairs thoughtfully. He half-smiled and replied, talking more to himself than to his father, "No. We're good… Never been better."

THE END

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