Unavoidable Truths

Chapter 4 of Unavoidable Truths

"Good morning, Don. Glad to see you made it. I guess that means no urgent case at the moment?" Alan greeted and asked his oldest son.

"Hey, Dad. No, nothing urgent. Currently, we're just going over cold cases, doing some follow-ups to see if anything new has been found." Don tried to grin and appear as if nothing earth shattering had happened in his life, and he must have succeeded when his dad nodded and moved to the island to put down his recent purchases.

"Good. Maybe that will mean you'll have time to focus on your personal life. And speaking of a personal life, how are things going with Robin?"

Don frowned at his father's turn of the conversation. He was getting tired of having to discuss his private life and being questioned about it almost every time he came over these days. Before he could answer, Charlie walked in.

"Hey Dad, what kind of bagels did you get this morning?" Charlie asked as he went to the refrigerator and started pulling out the ingredients for their brunch -- eggs, cheese, green bell peppers, mushrooms, onion and ham for omelets.

"Multigrain and roasted garlic, plus a container of sun-dried tomato cream cheese," Alan rattled off as he pulled each item from the bag.

Don drifted back and away from the two men to the edge of the kitchen, content for once to not be either in the middle or at the front of any conversation.

Charlie started preparation of the ingredients for the omelet, while Alan got out the pan, oil and spatula, and began cracking the eggs. "Don, don't just stand there like a bump in the road, why don't you slice the bagels," Alan turned and waved his hand from Don to the bagels sitting on the counter.

Don moved with hesitant steps to help. He collected the bread knife, bagel slicer, and a basket; then deposited it all on the counter next to Charlie and his cutting board. Don went to the sink and quickly washed and dried his hands before tackling his task.

Don was conscious of Charlie in ways he'd never been before. From the corner of his eye, he watched Charlie's hands as they welded the knife deftly in cutting up the ingredients and he could feel the heat radiating off the other man's body. It fueled something inside him; caused him to burn brighter and his own heat seemed to rise. it was pure torture for Don, as he tried to stifle his body's response to being near his brother. He had to fight not only his body, but also his mind, as he tried to fight the panic welling up inside. Don breathed in deep and exhaled slowly, then placed his hands flat on the counter to stop their shaking. He hoped Charlie was so absorbed in his chopping, that he wouldn't notice Don's nervousness.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly once more, while trying to keep it relatively quiet. But Don's hopes were futile, as he saw Charlie put the cutting knife down and place a hand over his wrist and squeeze gently; Charlie didn't say a word, but the question of what was wrong could be heard all the same.

The touch of Charlie's fingers were like a brand of fire that licked across Don's skin and he once more quelled the panic that urged him to yank his arm away. He couldn't allow what he felt for Charlie to be exposed or to put their relationship as brothers at risk. He had to act normal. On his next breath, he silently repeated the phrase to himself two more times, he had to act normal.

Don gave Charlie a quirk of a smile, then gently extracted the arm from within Charlie's grasp and then patted Charlie on the back. Inside Don may have felt like a part of him was dying, but the facade he projected was one of calm acceptance.

Charlie was not fooled for one minute, but let the moment slide. He realized now that it definitely had to do with him, but he wasn't entirely sure how. He'd figure it out at some point, of that he was positive. Charlie turned back to the cutting board and finished dicing the green pepper.

Charlie jumped when the silence was broken when his brother spoke.

"Charlie, I've been giving it some thought about what you asked yesterday in regards to Amita. I think that no matter what, you should go with her to Harvard, even if it's for a semester. Just to see if you both have a chance at making things work. Otherwise, I think you'll always wonder, 'what if.'"

Charlie faced Don again and this time, their dad joined them at the island.

"What's this, Don? Charlie, are you still debating what to do about Amita?" Alan asked.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, Dad. I just ... I care for Amita, but maybe it's just wanting what I can't have. That the threat of her leaving has made her somehow more desirable." Charlie threw up his hands and pushed them through his still damp curls. "It's all so complicated. She thinks that the only reason I'm willing to follow her or ask her to stay is because I'm used to having someone I can control; someone I depend on for help in my work. Both with school and the FBI. That her main attraction isn't so much her, as what position she's had in my life.

“Maybe she's right."

A heavy sigh followed Charlie's speech; his hands were still buried in his hair. Alan reached up and pulled the hands away and then drew his youngest son into a loose embrace.

"What exactly do you want, Charlie? And not what other's think you want." Alan gave Charlie a quick squeeze of encouragement.

Charlie shook his head. He honestly didn't know anymore what he wanted. In fact, since Don had left unexpectedly yesterday, he hadn't given any thought to Amita. He had solely been occupied with his equations and Don. Charlie looked at Don through lowered eyelashes and saw that his brother was staring at him, hardly blinking. And when he caught Don's eyes, Charlie was amazed to see a blush highlight Don's cheeks and his brother's head dip away as if shy at having been caught looking. Then Don turned away completely and went back to slicing bagels.

It was at that moment when everything clicked inside Charlie, like when the equations came together and the numbers made sense. The truth perplexed him. He wasn't disgusted or angry, more curious and intrigued with the knowledge. Amita didn't really want him, but his own brother did. Charlie watched as Don's hands shook slightly as he picked up the knife and placed a bagel in the slicer holder. Charlie frowned and thought that he had part of that statement wrong. His brother didn't want to want him, because Don had just encouraged him to go after Amita. That did make sense, they were brothers; you weren't supposed to desire family.

"Charlie?" his dad asked and shook his shoulder the older man's arm laid across to get his attention.

"Oh, sorry Dad. I don't honestly know what I want any more. I mean, I guess I'd want what most everyone wants and desires." Charlie paused in his speech when he noticed Don look up at him when he said the word desires. Charlie smirked at him and watched as a tinge of red stained Don's cheeks again.

"Do you even know what it is that everyone else wants? Because I certainly don't.

“Each person has unique wants, but sure, there are some basics -- like food, clothing, shelter and probably companionship. But beyond that, I'm almost certain you could calculate the variables and create a what... a curve or a distribution of the desired possibilities?" Alan released his youngest son and cuffed him upside the head as he teased him about the profession and obsession. The brothers watched as their dad went back to the eggs and finished cracking them efficiently into a mixing bowl and whipped them up, then poured in some milk.

"Charlie, are you done preparing the pepper, mushrooms and stuff for our omelets?"

"Almost, Dad. Another minute."

Charlie turned his concentration back to the items in front of him, but remained physically aware of Don.

TBC

A/N: This is AU after the end of season two, so there will be no season three spoilers. Sorry for the long wait, this has been typed up for a while, I’ve just been suffering from real life. Thanks go to SeparatriX and Taran for the quick beta, and any remaining errors are mine.