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numb3rsflashficTitle: Wayward Son
Author: Dani
Rating/Category: R/Mostly Gen
Pairing/Characters: OMC/OMC; Don Eppes, Charlie Eppes, Alan Eppes, Margaret Eppes, Megan Reeves, Walter Merrick (check the Pilot), Theodore 'Todd' Eppes (OMC), Bradley Fox (OMC)
Word Count: 7,917
Warnings: sexual abuse of a minor, light slash
Summary: What if Don and Charlie had a brother they didn't like to talk about?
Notes: It's been a long road with this one. I originally started in late August last year and it's taken me just over ten months to finish it. I'm glad it took me so long to finish it, the long breaks between bouts of inspiration gave me space from it for a while.
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jestana, who was patient enough to listen to me talk things out that were in my head, but were hiding behind all the random debris, and gave me the jumpstart I needed to finish this sucker.
Wayward Son
Don sighed in frustration when his cell phone rang for the sixth time in half an hour. It was only 8:30 in the morning. "Eppes," he barked into the phone.
"Now, Donny, is that any way to greet your long lost brother?" A darkly amused voice asked.
Don sat bolt upright in his chair. "Todd!" He hissed. "How the hell did you get this number?"
"It's amazing what the right words can get you these days," Todd drawled.
"What do you want?" Don snarled.
"What makes you think I want anything from you, g-man?" Todd sneered.
"Why else would you call?" Don replied, smirking.
A soft laugh purred over the line. "Perhaps because I have information for you, dear brother."
Don snatched up a pad of paper and a pen, but didn't rise to the bait otherwise. "How do you know we don't already have the information?"
"A little birdy told me," Todd answered blandly.
"Tweet, tweet," Don spat before closing his phone and tossing it on his desk. He sat back in his chair and rubbed a weary hand over his face.
"Don?" Megan asked, concerned.
"You remember when I told you younger brothers could definitely be a trigger?" he asked, not looking at her.
"Yeah," she replied a little uncertainly.
"I wasn't just talking about Charlie," he finished, standing from his chair, grabbing his suit coat from the back of his chair, and his phone off his desk. "I have my phone," he said, walking away, leaving Megan staring at his back with a curious look in her eyes.
*
Don hurried across the quad at CalSci, purpose in every line of his tense frame. He took no notice of the students that scurried out of his way. Practically tearing open the door to the math building, he stalked down the hall to Charlie’s office. When the open door came into view, he slowed his pace, the tense line of his shoulders relaxing minutely.
Then he heard the voices coming from within the office. Charlie’s voice was easily identifiable; the other was a voice he had hoped not to hear again so soon. He drew his gun but left the safety on as he approached the room cautiously. Through the open door, he could see Charlie standing just inside the room, books and papers held against his chest defensively. He entered through the door closest to Charlie, gun leveled at Todd, who was standing by the windows. “What do you want, Todd?” He asked evenly.
“Just thought I’d pay a visit to my dear brothers,” Todd answered breezily.
“Bullshit,” Don snarled. “What do you want?” He asked, his voice a low growl.
“As I told you before, Donny; I have information for you,” Todd replied, green eyes flat and emotionless.
“I don’t need your kind of help, Toddy,” Don replied, emphasizing the hated nickname.
“Fuck you, Don. I offer an olive branch and you treat me like a pariah,” Todd retorted angrily.
“Small wonder,” Charlie muttered from behind Don.
“They can’t prove I did anything,” Todd hissed. “Haven’t you heard of ‘innocent until proven guilty’?”
“And you can’t prove you didn’t hurt those people, so I wouldn’t talk about innocence,” Don replied, his gun not wavering an inch.
Todd glared at Don and ran a hand through his close-cropped black hair in frustration. “Ever the FBI agent, aren’t you, Don? You want me gone? Fine, I’m gone. See you around, boys,” he sneered as he walked towards the other door. “Say hi to Dad for me,” he said as he walked through the door.
Don stepped out into the hallway to watch as Todd walked away. It wasn’t until after Todd was out of sight that he holstered his gun then he turned and squeezed Charlie’s shoulder gently. “You alright?”
Charlie nodded but didn’t move. “Yeah, I’m-I’m fine.”
Don didn’t call him on the lie. “What were you two talking about?”
“He-he said I sol-sold out because I’m helping you,” Charlie stammered, walking over to his desk to set his armload down.
Don snorted derisively and sat down in one of the chairs in front of Charlie’s desk. “If anyone’s sold out, it’s him,” he said, watching as Charlie paced the room.
Silence fell between the brothers, each of them lost in his own thoughts and memories. Don remembered the vibrant, annoying younger brother Todd once was. Todd was between Don and Charlie in age and had operated as a go-between for them once Charlie was advanced to Don’s grade-level. Todd had often been described as the black sheep of the family; he'd excelled at the arts, specifically history, the only concession he made to sports was going to Don’s ball games, and math was most certainly not his forte, if anything, he hated math more than he hated conventional sports. He did, however, enjoy the martial arts. He said it was more elegant than running around a field for hours at a time, chasing after a ball, and that at least martial arts would be helpful outside the dojo.
Charlie remembered the last time he’d seen Todd. He didn’t know how Todd had known, since Don had already ostracized him from the family by that point, but the day Margaret died, Todd had shown up at the hospital. Don and Todd had almost immediately started baiting each other, but they’d stopped when Margaret had declared a temporary cease-fire. Don had left the room, rather than be around Todd; Alan had gone after Don while Charlie curled into a chair in the corner. He’d watched silently as Todd approached the bed and sat down in Alan’s vacated chair.
*
“Hi, Mom,” Todd murmured.
Margaret raised a weak smile. “Hi, Toddy.”
Todd returned the smile and looked down at his hands for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I know you are, sweets.”
Todd peeked at Margaret through his lashes. “Don told you, then?”
“As much as he could,” she answered. “If it means anything, I don’t think you did it.”
An ironic smile lifted Todd’s lips. “Only to me, but thank you, anyway.”
Margaret reached out and Todd took her hand, holding it gently with hands that Charlie knew could break her hand in a single movement. “Make this right, Toddy. I don’t want you and Don fighting for the rest of your lives.”
Todd shook his head. “He won’t let it go until he knows the truth and the truth might break him.”
“Then you need to be willing to let it go,” Margaret told him.
“What if I can’t?” Charlie blinked in surprise when the lights glinted off the tear trailing down Todd’s cheek.
“You have to,” she insisted. “It’s eating you up inside. At least tell me you're talking to someone about this.”
"I am," he answered with a slight nod.
"Good."
“I love you, Mom,” Todd whispered.
“I love you, too, Toddy,” Margaret said.
Todd smiled waveringly and brought her hand up to his lips for a kiss. “Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, Toddy.”
*
Todd had left not long after that and Charlie hadn’t seen him again until he'd opened his office door and found Todd lounging in the armchair he graded tests in. Charlie had been too lost in his own grief to truly understand what they were talking about that day, but now, through the lens of a few years' distance and more experience from working with Don to sharpen his focus on the situation, he finally understood what they hadn’t said that day. “I think there’s more to it than you think, Don,” Charlie murmured.
Don’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you believe him?” He asked incredulously.
“No, I’m saying we need to look into it more,” Charlie replied. “You weren’t there when he and Mom were talking, Don. You didn’t hear them.”
“What do you mean?” Don asked, his curiosity overtaking his anger.
“They didn’t say anything about it directly,” Charlie admitted. “But I just, I think the people he…killed did something to him.”
“Like what?” Don asked, leaning forward in his chair.
“Probably whatever you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know, I’m thinking a lot of things right now, Charlie,” Don replied.
Charlie shot Don a look.
“No, come on, Charlie, we would have noticed something,” Don objected.
“Should we have? Yes. Would we have? No,” Charlie replied, wandering over to look out the window. His eyes widened minutely at what he saw. “We were kids and I seem to remember we were kind of wrapped up in our own issues.”
Don raised an eyebrow, silently urging Charlie to continue.
“We were so focused on our own little worlds,” Charlie said softly, glancing over at Don then back out the window. “You had baseball and I had math, Todd… kind of got lost in the middle.”
Don shook his head. “We didn’t ignore him, Charlie.”
“I know,” Charlie agreed. “But we didn’t pay attention to him, either.”
Don made a noncommittal noise.
“I don’t remember going to any of his matches,” Charlie murmured.
“Mom never made him take piano,” Don replied petulantly.
“Maybe because he already had an appreciation for the arts,” Charlie pointed out.
“I don’t remember what level he reached in karate,” Don confessed.
“Shodan black belt, at least that's where he was when we left for college,” Charlie supplied. "And it wasn't just karate."
“Oh, yeah,” Don murmured absently, remembering Todd coming into his room and proudly showing off his first black belt. “When do you think it happened?”
Charlie shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “After we left, maybe?” He posited.
Don thought for a moment, using what he had learned over the years to analyze what he remembered of how Todd had acted before they had left for college. “Maybe, but I don’t think that’s when it started.”
Charlie turned to look at Don. “What do you mean?”
“Well, when it happened and when it started are two different things,” Don explained. “Things like that happen over the span of several years, but it starts differently than when it ends.” At Charlie’s confused look, Don rubbed his eyes, trying to think of a better way to explain it, even though he really didn’t want to bring Charlie into this knowledge. “When a child is first molested, that’s how the abuser starts, just molesting. A touch here, a touch there means something different to a kid than it would to an adult. Kids don’t know its wrong until something happens to tell them differently. Once the abuser starts, he’s not satisfied with what he’s doing so it escalates: more touches, he starts talking to the kid about it, probably tells them that it’s ‘their little secret’ or no one would understand; those kinds of things. From there it just keeps going and going until something happens to make it stop, like someone finding out, the child getting too old for the pedophile's preference, the child moving away, the child making it stop, or, worst case, the child commits suicide.”
Charlie stood staring down at the floor, the haunted, wounded look in his eyes making Don want to cross the space between them and comfort him, but Don didn’t move. “How-how can you tell?”
Don shrugged. “Half the time you can’t, the rest of the time, you just…know.”
*
“You’re going to have to tell them, eventually,” Alan pointed out, blowing softly on the coffee in his mug before taking a drink.
Todd paced the living room of his apartment, dark hair standing up in disordered spikes from repeated passes of his shaking hands, the sleeves of his grey thermal shirt pushed up to his elbows, displaying arms and hands that had no qualms about showing their strength in the right situations. “Like they’d believe me,” he countered, but it lacked any real heat.
“They might surprise you, Toddy,” Alan replied.
“Don’t call me that,” Todd answered by rote.
Alan smiled and sipped his coffee. “Charlie’s more observant than people give him credit for.” Todd nodded absently. “He’s had the knowledge ever since your mother died, but he’s never really looked at it hard enough.”
Todd stopped and stared at Alan, startled. “You know what we talked about?”
Alan nodded seriously. “Don didn’t want to talk when I went after him, so I stayed close. I didn't hear everything, just enough to get the picture.”
Todd sighed and flopped down on the couch, his hand automatically reaching out to pet the black cat curled up on the next cushion, smiling faintly at the soft meow when the cat woke up at his touch. “Shh, Spooky," he soothed then returned to the conversation. "I still killed them, no matter what my reasons. A jury may sympathize with why I did it, but I’m still guilty.”
Alan set his cup down on the table and leaned forward in his chair. “There’s two definitions of guilty, Theodore,” he said gravely. “The courts define guilt as having committed a crime. The layman’s definition of guilt is quite different. Simply put, guilt, to the average person, is remorse for having committed a crime.”
“Some people think a lack of guilt means a lack of conscience,” Todd pointed out, looking down into Spooky’s green eyes.
“Yes, but I’m not some people,” Alan replied. “I know you have a conscience, Todd; otherwise you wouldn’t be trying to mend fences with Don and Charlie. If anything, you killed those people to spare others from the same pain you’ve faced.”
“One might think I’m a vigilante,” Todd pointed out.
“No, a vigilante is someone who keeps killing,” Alan contradicted. “You haven’t done anything in nearly ten years.”
Todd looked at Alan through flat green eyes. “How do you know?”
“Because I’m your father.” He glanced Spooky, who was climbing onto Todd's lap. "I don't remember you being a cat person, Todd."
Todd scratched Spooky's ears. "A lot's changed in the last eight years, Dad," he answered softly.
*
Megan sat back in her desk chair, eyes wide as she stared at the information on her computer screen. On the screen was a standard dossier; there was a photograph of a young man in his mid-twenties with emotionless jade green eyes and wavy black hair. What struck her the most was his strong resemblance to Don. Bringing up a Google search, she typed in the name ‘Todd Eppes’ and waited for the search to go through. She found several links leading to articles about a series of murders in 1999.
Megan stopped reading the article and brought up a case search. Three case files came up, all with Coroner’s Reports attached. She opened one and scrolled down to the ‘Cause of Death.’ Her eyes widened as she read.
Under that field was one marked ‘Other Injuries:’
Megan whistled softly. It sounded a lot like a list of injuries for a large-scale martial arts tournament. Her eyes widened slightly and she went back to the article. “Martial arts,” she whispered.
“He started when he was six,” a voice said from behind her.
She jumped and turned quickly. Don was leaning against the desk behind hers with his arms and ankles crossed. He was tense, but there was a resigned weariness in his dark eyes. “Hey, Don, I was just, um…” She trailed off, a faint blush staining her cheeks.
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “If I didn’t want you looking for him, I wouldn’t have mentioned him.”
Megan nodded. “So, he was between you and Charlie?”
“Yeah. He was our go-between. Me and Charlie were so different we never really understood each other, but Todd…Todd understood both of us.” Don shifted a little and looked down then back up at Megan. “I don’t know how he did it, but he did. When he got older, though, things started to change.”
“Change? In what way?”
“He used to be like a puppy, you know?” He asked with a slight smile, eyes distant as memories danced through his mind. “He was always eager to please. I remember, whenever he advanced in karate, I was the first one to know, and whenever he did well in math he’d tell Charlie first." The smile faded. "But then he stopped doing that. We’d hear it from Mom or Dad rather than from Toddy.”
“Do you know why he changed?” Megan asked softly.
Don’s gaze sharpened and Megan fought not to flinch from the steel in his eyes. “Yes,” he said succinctly.
A thought suddenly occurred to her and her eyes widened. “They were pedophiles.”
Don nodded. “I only recognized one of the names, but I’m pretty sure the other two were involved somehow.”
“The dojo?”
Don shook his head. “No, at least not all of them. The one I recognized, I'm pretty sure taught at the dojo Todd went to.” Don sighed then looked past her to the computer screen where the case file was still open. “I’ve never looked at the case files,” he confessed. “It’s one thing to know your brother killed people, but it’s not real, you know?”
Megan nodded. “It’s not pretty.”
Don laughed humorlessly. “Todd had a black belt in more than one discipline, I already knew it wouldn’t be pretty.”
“He has an amazing amount of control. He didn’t use a weapon.” At Don’s look she amended, “At least not a conventional one. He wanted these guys to feel pain. It was brutal, personal, but it was so controlled. I don’t know anyone who can control their rage like this.” She turned back to the computer and pulled up pictures from the autopsy. “The only injuries that even remotely seem uncontrolled are the head and testicular injuries. He broke their arms, three ribs, the sternum, both kneecaps; he kicked ‘em in the head and the balls while they were on the ground, and finally broke their neck. This was methodical. This man is dangerous.”
“This man is my brother, Megan,” Don said, voice strangled. He laughed bitterly. “I always said we all got the best of both sides of the family: Dad’s methodical, analytical mind and Mom’s desire to seek justice; we just use it differently.”
*
"Eppes," Don said into his desk phone.
"I'd like to see you in my office," his boss, Walter Merrick, said shortly.
"Yes, sir," Don replied then hung up. He gathered his suit coat and put it on then turned to Megan. "Merrick wants to see me. Hold down the fort, okay?"
"Yes, kimosabe," she replied.
He laughed and headed for the elevators. As he rode the elevator, he tried to think of why Merrick would want to see him in his office. It couldn't be for a case, they were still in the middle of one. It couldn't for a promotion, either; Merrick knew Don wasn't ready to give up his team, yet. As he approached Merrick's office, he smiled at Merrick's secretary. She smiled grimly and pressed the intercom button. "Agent Eppes is here, sir."
"Send him in," Merrick replied.
Don nodded his thanks to the secretary and stepped into Merrick's office. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
Merrick picked up a case folder from his desk and passed it to Don as he sat down. "This came across my desk today," Merrick replied. "Tell me if it sounds familiar."
A sense of foreboding crept down Don's spine. Nothing good ever came from those words, especially coming from your boss at the FBI. Don was careful not to show his trepidation as he opened the file and was confronted by crime scene photos. He flipped through the photos, face blank, the victim's injuries were, indeed, familiar. He may have only just seen the photos a few hours earlier, but he'd never forget them. "Yes, sir," Don finally answered.
"He's our only viable suspect in this case," Merrick said. "I have an agent on the phone with a judge, getting me a warrant for his arrest."
"Why are you telling me?" Don asked, setting the file back on Merrick's desk. "I mean, according to regulations, I can't be involved in this case."
Merrick nodded. "I want you in the observation room while they question him. You're his brother, you'll be able to tell if he's lying."
Don snorted. "Sir, with all due respect, up until this morning, I haven't had contact with Todd since my mother died."
Merrick's brow lowered. "He contacted you?"
"Yes, sir," Don answered, sitting up straighter. "He called me this morning and told me he had information."
"What kind of information?" Merrick asked softly.
Don met Merrick's eyes steadily. "I don't know, sir. Todd and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye. We tend to bait each other until one or the other breaks and either hangs up or leaves."
Merrick sighed and sat back in his chair. "Brothers," he muttered.
Don eyed him, wondering if he was going to be reprimanded. Before any further conversation could be made, Merrick's phone rang.
"Merrick," he answered. "Good. Bring him in." He hung up and looked up at Don. "We have the warrant. Tauro's team is bringing him in. I'll call you when he gets here. Dismissed."
Don stood from the chair and tried very hard not to storm out of the office. He bypassed the elevators in favor of blowing steam on the stairs. He also bypassed his desk and Megan's curiosity in favor of going out on the bridge to try and clear his head. Megan found him anyway.
"What'd Merrick want?" She asked, handing him a cup of coffee and leaning next him on the railing.
"Todd killed again," Don answered, voice tight, trying very hard not to clench his hands around the paper cup. "I don't get it, Megan. If he still had people to kill, why wait nearly ten years to do it?"
"Maybe they were out of his reach," Megan suggested, lifting her own cup of tea to take a sip.
"They're bringing him in for questioning," he said softly. "They want me to observe so I can tell them if he's lying." He shook his head. "This morning was the first time I'd talked to him in years. He's harder to read now."
"Did you see him?" She asked with a frown.
He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. "I went to see Charlie after he called and he was there. That's probably where he was when he called. He was so composed, Megan, I'd never seen him that cool." He snorted. "At least until we started getting into it, like we always do."
"What did you say to him?" Megan questioned.
"He said he had information for me," Don started. "I told him I didn't need his help. He got mad and said he was offering an olive branch and that I was treating him like a pariah. Charlie said 'small wonder,' Todd replied they couldn't prove he did anything, I told him they couldn't prove that he didn't kill them, and then he left, saying something about telling Dad 'hi' for him."
"Maybe he was leaving you a clue," she suggested.
"What? Like, 'talk to Dad, he'll tell you everything'?" He asked.
"Maybe." Megan patted his shoulder then went back inside.
Don sighed and looked down into his rapidly cooling coffee. He'd spent the last eight years avoiding this subject with his family, except to rant. Maybe it was time to stop ranting and start listening. He pulled out his cell and called Alan. "Dad? It's Don, you got a minute?"
"Sure, what's up?" Alan replied.
"I wanted to ask you about Todd," Don answered, pacing towards the bench.
"Ahh, you're finally going to start asking questions?" Alan teased.
"What happened?" Don asked, sitting down.
"That's not really my story to tell, Donny," Alan responded. "Maybe you should try asking him."
"Yeah, well, it's a little late for that," Don said, leaning back. "They're bringing him in for questioning on a new case."
"What?!"
"I don't get it, either," Don replied, rubbing his forehead. "It doesn't make sense for him to wait this long."
"Don, Todd didn't kill whoever they're accusing him of killing now," Alan told him. "There's no one left for him to kill."
"Try convincing my boss of that," Don parried. "They want me to observe the questioning to see if I can read him."
Alan snorted. "Like that'll work."
"That's what I said, but he still wants me there." He sighed. "I gotta get going; I still have my own case to work on."
"Call me later and tell me what you can," Alan requested.
"I'll try," Don answered. "Bye."
"Bye."
*
Forty minutes after talking with Alan and getting no work done, Don's desk phone rang. "Eppes."
"Interrogation room B," Merrick told him shortly then hung up.
Don sighed and slowly stood. He looked up, meeting Megan's eyes. "Sometimes, I really hate my job," he muttered then walked to the observation room. He wasn't surprised to find Merrick waiting for him. He turned away from Merrick to the window for interrogation room B. Todd was lounging back in his chair, long legs sprawled under the table, one elbow hooked over the back of the chair, looking like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Why'd you kill them, Eppes?" Tauro asked.
"I'm not saying a single thing to you," Todd parried. "You bring Don in here, maybe I'll talk."
"He's not on this case, I am," Tauro countered. "You're stuck with me, kid."
Todd sneered at Tauro. "You're what? 39? 40? I'm not much younger than you, so don't call me kid."
Tauro leaned back in his chair and opened the case file on the table. "I have to admit, you've got a lot of power in those hands, kid."
Todd raised an eyebrow and stared back at Tauro blandly.
"What do you think you are?" Tauro asked, frustration creeping into his voice. "Some kind of vigilante?"
"You have to kill somebody to be a vigilante," Todd answered. "I didn't kill anybody."
Merrick turned to Don. "Is he lying?"
Don shrugged. "I told you, sir, I don't know this Todd. The martial arts are about control and he's using it."
Merrick eyed Don for a moment then left the observation room. Moments later, he knocked on the interrogation room door and Tauro joined him in the hall. Don watched Todd as they talked. Todd pulled the case file towards him and flipped through the photos, frowning. He glanced down at his own hands then back at the photos. He shook his head and pushed the folder away.
Don looked up when the door opened and Merrick and Tauro stepped into the room. "We're going to let you talk to him," Merrick informed him.
Don blinked in surprise. "You are?"
"Yes," Merrick answered. "It's obvious that the only way we're going to get anything out of him is to let him talk to you."
Don looked back into the interrogation room, a faint smile tugging the corner of his lips when he saw Todd was actually twiddling his thumbs while staring up at the ceiling and whistling softly. "Smart ass," he muttered under his breath before turning back to Merrick. "All right," he acquiesced and left the observation room. Stepping into the interrogation room, he was a little surprised to see Todd's shoulders relax a little. "Enjoying twiddling your thumbs, Todd?"
Todd grinned. "You know me, gotta have something to do with my hands."
"Yeah," Don said softly, sitting down in the chair across from Todd. "You wanted to talk to me. You sure you don't want a lawyer present?"
Todd shook his head. "Why would I need a lawyer? I didn't do anything to this guy, Don," he objected. "I mean, I have no illusions that he's completely innocent, but he didn't do anything to me."
"What do you mean?" Don asked, leaning forward.
"Don't you recognize the name?" Todd stared hard at Don.
Don looked at the victim's name then at his face and something clicked. "Oh, hell, Cartman."
Todd snorted. "Yeah. Someone was looking for vengeance on this guy, all right, but it wasn't me. I had no reason to touch him, even if it does look like those murders from eight years ago, which by the way, you have no solid evidence were committed by me."
"Do you have any idea who might've done it?" Don asked, sitting back.
Todd's lips tightened and he looked away.
"Come on, Todd, work with me here," Don wheedled.
Todd shook his head. "No."
Don started to say something but he was interrupted by a knock on the glass. He looked up and saw Megan standing there. "I'll be right back." He stood and went out into the hallway. "What's up?"
"I was looking at the new autopsy photos and comparing them to the old ones," she started. "There's no way that Todd was the killer this time."
"What do you mean?" Don asked, taking the photos from Megan and holding them side-by-side, glancing up briefly when Merrick and Tauro approached.
"The bruises on Cartman are too small to have been made by a man's hands," Megan answered triumphantly.
"So you're saying a woman killed him?" Tauro asked.
Megan nodded. "Or a small man, but more likely a woman."
Don couldn't quite quell the flare of triumph in his chest but he didn't let it show. He looked over at Merrick. "Then we can't keep him here. There's no evidence to suggest he killed Cartman and all the evidence for the old cases is circumstantial."
Merrick nodded grudgingly. "He's free to go."
Don nodded tightly and went back into the interrogation room. "You need a ride back to your place?" He asked.
"I can go?" Todd asked, surprised.
"New evidence came up, exonerating you," Don replied.
Todd sighed and slumped back in his chair. "I could use a ride, but not back to my place." He looked at Don meaningfully.
Don sighed and nodded. "All right. Let me get my stuff, then we can go."
Todd nodded and stood from his chair. "I'll be on the bridge," he said.
When Don stepped outside after gathering his things and telling the team to finish up for the night, he noticed that Todd was just hanging up his cell phone. "Ready to go?" Todd asked.
"Yeah," Don answered and led the way to the parking garage.
*
The drive to Charlie's house was made in heavy silence with a metaphorical elephant riding in the backseat. When they pulled into the driveway, Don didn't know whether to be relieved or not that both Dad's and Charlie's cars were sitting there as well. Both of them sat staring at the old house for long moments before they opened their doors and climbed out at the same time. Don walked quickly up the walk while Todd followed at a slower pace. At the door, Don paused and waited for Todd to catch up.
"I haven't been back here since…" Todd trailed off, knowing Don would understand what he meant.
"It's changed a little," Don replied and opened the door, warm, welcoming light spilling out into the darkness.
Todd trailed after Don into the house, eyes taking in the changes to the house since he'd last been there eight years before. Finally, his eyes met Alan and Charlie's stunned looks. "Hi, Dad, Charlie."
"Todd," Charlie said, still surprised.
"Hi," Alan greeted, smiling.
"I figured it was time to come home," Todd explained softly, still standing by the door.
"I don't know about you guys, but I think I'm gonna need a beer to get through tonight," Don said, hanging his jacket up and heading for the kitchen.
Todd winced. "That might not be the best idea."
Don stopped and turned to look questioningly at Todd.
"I don't think Dad would appreciate having to clean up glass shards," Todd admitted.
Don stared at Todd. All the bravado that he'd been running up against was gone and suddenly Todd was his kid brother again, cast aside by his brothers. "All right," he said, walking over to join Alan and Charlie in the living room. "Come sit down."
Todd hesitantly walked over to sit in the free armchair, hands clasped tightly together between his knees.
"Whenever you're ready," Alan said gently after several long moments of silence.
Todd glanced up from his hands and met Alan's eyes briefly before nodded. "I was ten when it first started," he began. "It was just touches at first. I thought he was correcting my form. Then we had sex ed in school and I knew it was more than that."
"Why didn't you tell someone?" Charlie asked softly.
Todd's hands clenched tighter. "Because it was attention," he replied softly. "That's all I wanted. It didn't matter that it was wrong. At least someone acknowledged that I existed."
"Oh, God," Alan whispered brokenly.
"Dad," Todd admonished forcefully. "You and Mom never neglected me. You were there as often as you could and I appreciate that. But he saw my vulnerability and capitalized on it. It's not your fault."
Alan looked up at Todd, tears in his eyes but he was smiling proudly. "You've been to therapy, haven't you?"
Todd flushed and looked down, hiding a secret smile. "Yeah."
Charlie glanced at Don, mischief in his eyes. "I guess it's a family trait."
Don laughed reluctantly. "I guess so."
"Anyway, when I was thirteen, it escalated," Todd continued. "He'd get me alone in the showers and make me," he paused and took a deep breath. "Masturbate for him. The first two times, I refused, but, well, when you're teaching martial arts, you know how to get even the most reticent person to cooperate. He didn't touch himself at first; he'd just watch me. But then he started touching himself through his gi and after a few months, he pushed his pants down and did it with me."
"Why didn't you quit?" Don asked abruptly.
"I couldn't," Todd admitted. "It was my thing, it was the only thing I had that was uniquely mine and, despite his…attentions, I loved it too much. For a while, when I was lost in it, I could believe that he didn't exist, that he couldn't hurt me. Besides, giving it up would have been letting him win. It was that damned Eppes stubborn determination, I guess." He shared a grin with Alan, Charlie, and Don. They were all intimately familiar with that. "Then one night, not long after I turned 16, the car wouldn't start after class. He offered to give me a ride home. Only, he didn't bring me here, he took me to his place where a couple friends were waiting for us." He looked up and met Don's eyes squarely. Don couldn't help flinching at the cold deadness in Todd's eyes. "They passed me around like I was some living sex doll," he growled, not breaking eye contact with Don. "But you know what was the worst part about that night and the other times they did it? They made sure I enjoyed it."
Don blanched and Todd flinched back when Charlie went racing past him, heading for the bathroom with his hand clamped over his mouth. Todd squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands, fingertips tight against his hairline. "God, I'm sorry," he said, voice breaking. "I never meant to tell you that."
"No," Alan said weakly. "No, we needed to know. We need to understand."
Todd looked up at Alan, ashamed to see that he was a little green as well. "You would've understood without knowing that."
"Look, we can sit here all night arguing," Don cut in. "It doesn't change the fact that it's out there and we know about it now."
Todd's cell phone rang then and, after a quick glance at the caller ID, he excused himself and went into the kitchen. Once Todd was out of earshot, Don stood and started pacing the living room, fists clenched at his sides, teeth gritted. "It's a damn good thing that guy is already dead," he snarled. "Or I would've killed him myself."
"It wouldn't have been your fight, Donny," Alan said softly. "Todd needs to deal with this himself, we can't do it for him."
Don sighed and sank back down into his chair. "Yeah, I know."
Silence descended as they waited for Charlie and Todd to come back. Charlie came back first; his face was damp, as were the curls around his face, and he was a little shaky, but that famous Eppes stubborn determination was in his dark eyes.
"Where's Todd?" He asked, sitting down in his former seat at the other end of the couch from Alan.
"He got a phone call," Don answered.
"Oh," Charlie said and something in his tone of voice caught Don's attention, but before Don could pursue it, Todd came back.
"It continued along the same vein for the next couple years," Todd said, sitting down in his chair. "For the most part, he was content with handjobs in the showers after class and competitions, but every couple months, he'd tell me to make excuses and he'd take me to his house and they'd do it all over again."
Don shot to his feet again, pacing between the dining room and his chair. "Son of a bitch," he growled. "You're telling me they did that for two years and no one noticed?"
Todd sighed. "They knew any visible bruising or difficulty moving could be put down to injuries during class or competition. They were preying on my vulnerabilities, remember?" He looked down at his hands. "They knew that, with me, even negative attention was better than no attention at all." He looked up again. "But I got away. I didn't tell him that I was going to UI Chicago for college."
"But didn't you have to tell the sensei you were leaving?" Alan asked.
Todd nodded. "Yeah, I asked him not to tell anyone, though. I said that I wanted to announce it on my own and I didn't want a going away party." A vindictive grin curled his lips. "I waited until the night before I was going to leave to announce it and then I skipped showering after class to make sure he couldn't catch me."
The other three all laughed. "I always knew you were smart," Alan praised.
Then the doorbell rang. Don, Charlie, and Alan all looked towards the door in confusion, but Todd stood and answered it. "Perfect timing," he said to the person on the porch. "Come in." Todd stepped back and a tall, slender man with mink brown hair stepped inside, smiling gently at Todd. To say Don and Alan were surprised would've been a vast understatement. Todd and the man turned to the others; there was apprehension and worry in Todd's eyes, but the other man's hazel eyes were challenging, yet calm. "You, uh, don't seem too surprised, Charlie," Todd said.
Don and Alan turned to look at Charlie, who was blushing but smiling faintly. "I, um, saw you two this morning, af-after you left my office."
Todd turned to look at the other man. "I told you they'd see you."
The man snorted. "Only Charlie saw me," he pointed out then stepped forward. "Since Todd seems to have something against introducing me, I'm Brad Fox. I was Todd's psychologist."
"Was?" Alan inquired.
Todd and Brad shared a smile. "I thought it prudent to have him switch psychologists when I started to take a less than professional interest in him."
"Oh," Alan said, frowning. Then light dawned. "Oh!"
Todd and Brad laughed.
"Wait, so you're…" Don trailed off, making a universal sign for 'together.'
Todd nodded. "Yeah. For almost five years, now."
"How can you be with a guy after…" Don frowned, trailing off again.
"I trust him," Todd answered with a shrug. "He showed me that it doesn't have to hurt. That it's okay to love a man."
Brad smiled as he wrapped an arm around Todd's waist and kissed his temple.
Alan sat back, smiling. "Welcome to the family, Brad."
Brad grinned at Alan. "Thank you," he said then turned back to Todd. "How far have you gotten?"
"Up to when I left for Chicago," Todd answered, taking Brad's hand and leading him into the living room. He glanced around, frowning, trying to figure out where Brad was going to sit. Brad just smiled at him, pushed him down to sit in his abandoned chair and settled on the arm of the chair, one arm draped across the back of the chair. "College was almost paradise for me," Todd said, picking up where he left off. "It was so nice to get away from people who expected things from me. Except, the communal showers were a little hard to handle at first. I'd jump every time someone came in, expecting it to be him, but gradually, my instincts got the picture that he wasn't there anymore, that I didn't have to be scared and that felt so good." Todd's smile was beatific. "The dojo was finally a place where I could retreat from everything and the only bruises I got were from classes and competitions." The smile fell and he sighed softly. "When it was closer to graduation, I wasn't ready to leave my haven, yet. I knew I wanted to come back home, but I wasn't ready to face him, so I started my graduate studies the semester after I finished my undergrad studies. By the time that was finished, I was ready. I'd heard there was a new dojo opening up so I applied there for a position. When I got a positive response back, I applied to work at a couple local museums and got the job at the Getty." He sighed and leaned into Brad's warmth. "That first year after I came home was great; I was doing what I loved, I was close to you guys again, and he didn't contact me." He paused and Brad's arm moved from the back of the chair to around his shoulders. He glanced up at Brad and smiled gratefully.
"Then, a year after I came back, he showed up at the dojo as I was leaving, grabbed my arm, walked for two blocks, and then shoved me in an alley," Todd said, looking down at his hands again. "I was more confused than scared; I knew I was too old for him to be interested in me, so why was he bothering me now? He pushed me back against the wall, his hands fisted in the collar of my jacket, and held me there. He threatened to sell me out for a fag if I told anyone what he did to me when I was a kid. Homosexuality was getting more accepted then, but it still would have ruined my career at the dojo. I asked him why he chose me, someone learning to defend himself, someone who could be just as strong as he was. He told me that he liked the challenge of it, the idea of his victims fighting back. He let me go and patted my cheek patronizingly. He reminded me about what he'd threatened and asked me what I thought you guys would think if you found out." He took a deep breath, tamping down the anger that was rising in his voice.
"I just…couldn't take it anymore. Before I knew what was happening, my hand had crashed against his chest and I could hear the bones snapping under my hand. He fell back against the opposite wall, breathing hard and clutching his chest, staring at me like he'd never seen me before. I knew that, if I didn't do something, he'd kick my ass, so I broke his arms to keep him from hitting me, kicked him in the side so he couldn't draw breath easily, and broke his knees so he couldn't kick me. I made sure not to hurt him so much he'd be insensate," his low voice turned to a growl and his upper lip lifted in a snarl. "I wanted him to suffer like I had, to fear like I had, and I wanted him to feel every god damned minute of it. After I broke his knee caps, I asked him if he liked being helpless, if he liked being so fucking scared for his life, if he liked the fact that a student twenty years his junior had kicked his ass, if he still liked to share 16-year-old boys with his friends. He laughed, then, told me 'yes,' and kept right on laughing. I kicked him in the head to get him to stop, but he wouldn't, then I kicked him in the balls, and he still wouldn't stop laughing, so I broke his neck to shut him up. It didn't help much, I still hear him laughing in my head, sometimes." Todd didn't look up to see the stunned expressions on Alan, Don, and Charlie's faces; he just turned to Brad, wrapped his arms around his waist, and buried his face in Brad's lap. Brad murmured soothingly to him and ran his fingers through Todd's hair, his free hand rubbing soothingly along Todd's arm across his stomach. Todd's harsh breathing and Brad's hand stroking over Todd's grey thermal shirt were the only sounds in the room.
"The only evidence they have is circumstantial," Don said into the silence. The other four men looked at him. "The only reason Todd's a suspect is because he was the last person seen with him. That's all."
Brad nodded, understanding in his eyes.
*
Later that night, at Don's apartment
"Did you find what you were looking for?"
Don's head jerked up at the familiar voice. "Mom?"
"Hello, sweets." Margaret smiled.
"What, what're you doing here?" Don asked.
"I'm here for you," she replied. "It's about time you got your head out of your ass and actually talked to him."
Don flushed and looked away from her sharp jade eyes. "I figured it was time to stop ranting," he mumbled.
"So, did you?"
"I…don't know," he admitted. "I always thought they were just some random guys who pissed him off, but it's so much worse. I deal with stuff like that every day, but it's different when the victim's your own brother."
Margaret nodded. "Now that you know, what are you going to do?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" She asked, head tilted slightly.
"Yeah, I mean, what else can I do?" Don asked. "I wish like hell that I was the one who killed those guys, but I can't begrudge him that closure. Besides, I think he's happy now: he has his family back, he has Brad, and I think he knows I won't turn him in."
Margaret smiled and kissed Don's forehead, he closed his eyes at the familiar touch. "Thank you," she said and when Don opened his eyes, she was gone.
End.
Author: Dani
Rating/Category: R/Mostly Gen
Pairing/Characters: OMC/OMC; Don Eppes, Charlie Eppes, Alan Eppes, Margaret Eppes, Megan Reeves, Walter Merrick (check the Pilot), Theodore 'Todd' Eppes (OMC), Bradley Fox (OMC)
Word Count: 7,917
Warnings: sexual abuse of a minor, light slash
Summary: What if Don and Charlie had a brother they didn't like to talk about?
Notes: It's been a long road with this one. I originally started in late August last year and it's taken me just over ten months to finish it. I'm glad it took me so long to finish it, the long breaks between bouts of inspiration gave me space from it for a while.
Beta:
jestana, who was patient enough to listen to me talk things out that were in my head, but were hiding behind all the random debris, and gave me the jumpstart I needed to finish this sucker.Don sighed in frustration when his cell phone rang for the sixth time in half an hour. It was only 8:30 in the morning. "Eppes," he barked into the phone.
"Now, Donny, is that any way to greet your long lost brother?" A darkly amused voice asked.
Don sat bolt upright in his chair. "Todd!" He hissed. "How the hell did you get this number?"
"It's amazing what the right words can get you these days," Todd drawled.
"What do you want?" Don snarled.
"What makes you think I want anything from you, g-man?" Todd sneered.
"Why else would you call?" Don replied, smirking.
A soft laugh purred over the line. "Perhaps because I have information for you, dear brother."
Don snatched up a pad of paper and a pen, but didn't rise to the bait otherwise. "How do you know we don't already have the information?"
"A little birdy told me," Todd answered blandly.
"Tweet, tweet," Don spat before closing his phone and tossing it on his desk. He sat back in his chair and rubbed a weary hand over his face.
"Don?" Megan asked, concerned.
"You remember when I told you younger brothers could definitely be a trigger?" he asked, not looking at her.
"Yeah," she replied a little uncertainly.
"I wasn't just talking about Charlie," he finished, standing from his chair, grabbing his suit coat from the back of his chair, and his phone off his desk. "I have my phone," he said, walking away, leaving Megan staring at his back with a curious look in her eyes.
*
Don hurried across the quad at CalSci, purpose in every line of his tense frame. He took no notice of the students that scurried out of his way. Practically tearing open the door to the math building, he stalked down the hall to Charlie’s office. When the open door came into view, he slowed his pace, the tense line of his shoulders relaxing minutely.
Then he heard the voices coming from within the office. Charlie’s voice was easily identifiable; the other was a voice he had hoped not to hear again so soon. He drew his gun but left the safety on as he approached the room cautiously. Through the open door, he could see Charlie standing just inside the room, books and papers held against his chest defensively. He entered through the door closest to Charlie, gun leveled at Todd, who was standing by the windows. “What do you want, Todd?” He asked evenly.
“Just thought I’d pay a visit to my dear brothers,” Todd answered breezily.
“Bullshit,” Don snarled. “What do you want?” He asked, his voice a low growl.
“As I told you before, Donny; I have information for you,” Todd replied, green eyes flat and emotionless.
“I don’t need your kind of help, Toddy,” Don replied, emphasizing the hated nickname.
“Fuck you, Don. I offer an olive branch and you treat me like a pariah,” Todd retorted angrily.
“Small wonder,” Charlie muttered from behind Don.
“They can’t prove I did anything,” Todd hissed. “Haven’t you heard of ‘innocent until proven guilty’?”
“And you can’t prove you didn’t hurt those people, so I wouldn’t talk about innocence,” Don replied, his gun not wavering an inch.
Todd glared at Don and ran a hand through his close-cropped black hair in frustration. “Ever the FBI agent, aren’t you, Don? You want me gone? Fine, I’m gone. See you around, boys,” he sneered as he walked towards the other door. “Say hi to Dad for me,” he said as he walked through the door.
Don stepped out into the hallway to watch as Todd walked away. It wasn’t until after Todd was out of sight that he holstered his gun then he turned and squeezed Charlie’s shoulder gently. “You alright?”
Charlie nodded but didn’t move. “Yeah, I’m-I’m fine.”
Don didn’t call him on the lie. “What were you two talking about?”
“He-he said I sol-sold out because I’m helping you,” Charlie stammered, walking over to his desk to set his armload down.
Don snorted derisively and sat down in one of the chairs in front of Charlie’s desk. “If anyone’s sold out, it’s him,” he said, watching as Charlie paced the room.
Silence fell between the brothers, each of them lost in his own thoughts and memories. Don remembered the vibrant, annoying younger brother Todd once was. Todd was between Don and Charlie in age and had operated as a go-between for them once Charlie was advanced to Don’s grade-level. Todd had often been described as the black sheep of the family; he'd excelled at the arts, specifically history, the only concession he made to sports was going to Don’s ball games, and math was most certainly not his forte, if anything, he hated math more than he hated conventional sports. He did, however, enjoy the martial arts. He said it was more elegant than running around a field for hours at a time, chasing after a ball, and that at least martial arts would be helpful outside the dojo.
Charlie remembered the last time he’d seen Todd. He didn’t know how Todd had known, since Don had already ostracized him from the family by that point, but the day Margaret died, Todd had shown up at the hospital. Don and Todd had almost immediately started baiting each other, but they’d stopped when Margaret had declared a temporary cease-fire. Don had left the room, rather than be around Todd; Alan had gone after Don while Charlie curled into a chair in the corner. He’d watched silently as Todd approached the bed and sat down in Alan’s vacated chair.
*
“Hi, Mom,” Todd murmured.
Margaret raised a weak smile. “Hi, Toddy.”
Todd returned the smile and looked down at his hands for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I know you are, sweets.”
Todd peeked at Margaret through his lashes. “Don told you, then?”
“As much as he could,” she answered. “If it means anything, I don’t think you did it.”
An ironic smile lifted Todd’s lips. “Only to me, but thank you, anyway.”
Margaret reached out and Todd took her hand, holding it gently with hands that Charlie knew could break her hand in a single movement. “Make this right, Toddy. I don’t want you and Don fighting for the rest of your lives.”
Todd shook his head. “He won’t let it go until he knows the truth and the truth might break him.”
“Then you need to be willing to let it go,” Margaret told him.
“What if I can’t?” Charlie blinked in surprise when the lights glinted off the tear trailing down Todd’s cheek.
“You have to,” she insisted. “It’s eating you up inside. At least tell me you're talking to someone about this.”
"I am," he answered with a slight nod.
"Good."
“I love you, Mom,” Todd whispered.
“I love you, too, Toddy,” Margaret said.
Todd smiled waveringly and brought her hand up to his lips for a kiss. “Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, Toddy.”
*
Todd had left not long after that and Charlie hadn’t seen him again until he'd opened his office door and found Todd lounging in the armchair he graded tests in. Charlie had been too lost in his own grief to truly understand what they were talking about that day, but now, through the lens of a few years' distance and more experience from working with Don to sharpen his focus on the situation, he finally understood what they hadn’t said that day. “I think there’s more to it than you think, Don,” Charlie murmured.
Don’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying you believe him?” He asked incredulously.
“No, I’m saying we need to look into it more,” Charlie replied. “You weren’t there when he and Mom were talking, Don. You didn’t hear them.”
“What do you mean?” Don asked, his curiosity overtaking his anger.
“They didn’t say anything about it directly,” Charlie admitted. “But I just, I think the people he…killed did something to him.”
“Like what?” Don asked, leaning forward in his chair.
“Probably whatever you’re thinking.”
“I don’t know, I’m thinking a lot of things right now, Charlie,” Don replied.
Charlie shot Don a look.
“No, come on, Charlie, we would have noticed something,” Don objected.
“Should we have? Yes. Would we have? No,” Charlie replied, wandering over to look out the window. His eyes widened minutely at what he saw. “We were kids and I seem to remember we were kind of wrapped up in our own issues.”
Don raised an eyebrow, silently urging Charlie to continue.
“We were so focused on our own little worlds,” Charlie said softly, glancing over at Don then back out the window. “You had baseball and I had math, Todd… kind of got lost in the middle.”
Don shook his head. “We didn’t ignore him, Charlie.”
“I know,” Charlie agreed. “But we didn’t pay attention to him, either.”
Don made a noncommittal noise.
“I don’t remember going to any of his matches,” Charlie murmured.
“Mom never made him take piano,” Don replied petulantly.
“Maybe because he already had an appreciation for the arts,” Charlie pointed out.
“I don’t remember what level he reached in karate,” Don confessed.
“Shodan black belt, at least that's where he was when we left for college,” Charlie supplied. "And it wasn't just karate."
“Oh, yeah,” Don murmured absently, remembering Todd coming into his room and proudly showing off his first black belt. “When do you think it happened?”
Charlie shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “After we left, maybe?” He posited.
Don thought for a moment, using what he had learned over the years to analyze what he remembered of how Todd had acted before they had left for college. “Maybe, but I don’t think that’s when it started.”
Charlie turned to look at Don. “What do you mean?”
“Well, when it happened and when it started are two different things,” Don explained. “Things like that happen over the span of several years, but it starts differently than when it ends.” At Charlie’s confused look, Don rubbed his eyes, trying to think of a better way to explain it, even though he really didn’t want to bring Charlie into this knowledge. “When a child is first molested, that’s how the abuser starts, just molesting. A touch here, a touch there means something different to a kid than it would to an adult. Kids don’t know its wrong until something happens to tell them differently. Once the abuser starts, he’s not satisfied with what he’s doing so it escalates: more touches, he starts talking to the kid about it, probably tells them that it’s ‘their little secret’ or no one would understand; those kinds of things. From there it just keeps going and going until something happens to make it stop, like someone finding out, the child getting too old for the pedophile's preference, the child moving away, the child making it stop, or, worst case, the child commits suicide.”
Charlie stood staring down at the floor, the haunted, wounded look in his eyes making Don want to cross the space between them and comfort him, but Don didn’t move. “How-how can you tell?”
Don shrugged. “Half the time you can’t, the rest of the time, you just…know.”
*
“You’re going to have to tell them, eventually,” Alan pointed out, blowing softly on the coffee in his mug before taking a drink.
Todd paced the living room of his apartment, dark hair standing up in disordered spikes from repeated passes of his shaking hands, the sleeves of his grey thermal shirt pushed up to his elbows, displaying arms and hands that had no qualms about showing their strength in the right situations. “Like they’d believe me,” he countered, but it lacked any real heat.
“They might surprise you, Toddy,” Alan replied.
“Don’t call me that,” Todd answered by rote.
Alan smiled and sipped his coffee. “Charlie’s more observant than people give him credit for.” Todd nodded absently. “He’s had the knowledge ever since your mother died, but he’s never really looked at it hard enough.”
Todd stopped and stared at Alan, startled. “You know what we talked about?”
Alan nodded seriously. “Don didn’t want to talk when I went after him, so I stayed close. I didn't hear everything, just enough to get the picture.”
Todd sighed and flopped down on the couch, his hand automatically reaching out to pet the black cat curled up on the next cushion, smiling faintly at the soft meow when the cat woke up at his touch. “Shh, Spooky," he soothed then returned to the conversation. "I still killed them, no matter what my reasons. A jury may sympathize with why I did it, but I’m still guilty.”
Alan set his cup down on the table and leaned forward in his chair. “There’s two definitions of guilty, Theodore,” he said gravely. “The courts define guilt as having committed a crime. The layman’s definition of guilt is quite different. Simply put, guilt, to the average person, is remorse for having committed a crime.”
“Some people think a lack of guilt means a lack of conscience,” Todd pointed out, looking down into Spooky’s green eyes.
“Yes, but I’m not some people,” Alan replied. “I know you have a conscience, Todd; otherwise you wouldn’t be trying to mend fences with Don and Charlie. If anything, you killed those people to spare others from the same pain you’ve faced.”
“One might think I’m a vigilante,” Todd pointed out.
“No, a vigilante is someone who keeps killing,” Alan contradicted. “You haven’t done anything in nearly ten years.”
Todd looked at Alan through flat green eyes. “How do you know?”
“Because I’m your father.” He glanced Spooky, who was climbing onto Todd's lap. "I don't remember you being a cat person, Todd."
Todd scratched Spooky's ears. "A lot's changed in the last eight years, Dad," he answered softly.
*
Megan sat back in her desk chair, eyes wide as she stared at the information on her computer screen. On the screen was a standard dossier; there was a photograph of a young man in his mid-twenties with emotionless jade green eyes and wavy black hair. What struck her the most was his strong resemblance to Don. Bringing up a Google search, she typed in the name ‘Todd Eppes’ and waited for the search to go through. She found several links leading to articles about a series of murders in 1999.
Police Arrest Suspect In Asylum Slayings
LOS ANGELES – Thursday evening, police searched the home of Todd Eppes, 26, in relation to the Asylum serial killings; Eppes was not at home when police arrived. He was, however, apprehended later that same evening at a martial arts school where he taught martial arts.
Megan stopped reading the article and brought up a case search. Three case files came up, all with Coroner’s Reports attached. She opened one and scrolled down to the ‘Cause of Death.’ Her eyes widened as she read.
CAUSE OF DEATH: Broken neck, decedent died immediately.
Under that field was one marked ‘Other Injuries:’
OTHER INJURIES: Broken patellae, ulnas, radii, 5th, 6th, and 7th ribs on left side; sternum fractured between 3rd and 4th ribs, fracture to the temporal bone, both testicles ruptured.
Megan whistled softly. It sounded a lot like a list of injuries for a large-scale martial arts tournament. Her eyes widened slightly and she went back to the article. “Martial arts,” she whispered.
“He started when he was six,” a voice said from behind her.
She jumped and turned quickly. Don was leaning against the desk behind hers with his arms and ankles crossed. He was tense, but there was a resigned weariness in his dark eyes. “Hey, Don, I was just, um…” She trailed off, a faint blush staining her cheeks.
“It’s okay,” he assured her. “If I didn’t want you looking for him, I wouldn’t have mentioned him.”
Megan nodded. “So, he was between you and Charlie?”
“Yeah. He was our go-between. Me and Charlie were so different we never really understood each other, but Todd…Todd understood both of us.” Don shifted a little and looked down then back up at Megan. “I don’t know how he did it, but he did. When he got older, though, things started to change.”
“Change? In what way?”
“He used to be like a puppy, you know?” He asked with a slight smile, eyes distant as memories danced through his mind. “He was always eager to please. I remember, whenever he advanced in karate, I was the first one to know, and whenever he did well in math he’d tell Charlie first." The smile faded. "But then he stopped doing that. We’d hear it from Mom or Dad rather than from Toddy.”
“Do you know why he changed?” Megan asked softly.
Don’s gaze sharpened and Megan fought not to flinch from the steel in his eyes. “Yes,” he said succinctly.
A thought suddenly occurred to her and her eyes widened. “They were pedophiles.”
Don nodded. “I only recognized one of the names, but I’m pretty sure the other two were involved somehow.”
“The dojo?”
Don shook his head. “No, at least not all of them. The one I recognized, I'm pretty sure taught at the dojo Todd went to.” Don sighed then looked past her to the computer screen where the case file was still open. “I’ve never looked at the case files,” he confessed. “It’s one thing to know your brother killed people, but it’s not real, you know?”
Megan nodded. “It’s not pretty.”
Don laughed humorlessly. “Todd had a black belt in more than one discipline, I already knew it wouldn’t be pretty.”
“He has an amazing amount of control. He didn’t use a weapon.” At Don’s look she amended, “At least not a conventional one. He wanted these guys to feel pain. It was brutal, personal, but it was so controlled. I don’t know anyone who can control their rage like this.” She turned back to the computer and pulled up pictures from the autopsy. “The only injuries that even remotely seem uncontrolled are the head and testicular injuries. He broke their arms, three ribs, the sternum, both kneecaps; he kicked ‘em in the head and the balls while they were on the ground, and finally broke their neck. This was methodical. This man is dangerous.”
“This man is my brother, Megan,” Don said, voice strangled. He laughed bitterly. “I always said we all got the best of both sides of the family: Dad’s methodical, analytical mind and Mom’s desire to seek justice; we just use it differently.”
*
"Eppes," Don said into his desk phone.
"I'd like to see you in my office," his boss, Walter Merrick, said shortly.
"Yes, sir," Don replied then hung up. He gathered his suit coat and put it on then turned to Megan. "Merrick wants to see me. Hold down the fort, okay?"
"Yes, kimosabe," she replied.
He laughed and headed for the elevators. As he rode the elevator, he tried to think of why Merrick would want to see him in his office. It couldn't be for a case, they were still in the middle of one. It couldn't for a promotion, either; Merrick knew Don wasn't ready to give up his team, yet. As he approached Merrick's office, he smiled at Merrick's secretary. She smiled grimly and pressed the intercom button. "Agent Eppes is here, sir."
"Send him in," Merrick replied.
Don nodded his thanks to the secretary and stepped into Merrick's office. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
Merrick picked up a case folder from his desk and passed it to Don as he sat down. "This came across my desk today," Merrick replied. "Tell me if it sounds familiar."
A sense of foreboding crept down Don's spine. Nothing good ever came from those words, especially coming from your boss at the FBI. Don was careful not to show his trepidation as he opened the file and was confronted by crime scene photos. He flipped through the photos, face blank, the victim's injuries were, indeed, familiar. He may have only just seen the photos a few hours earlier, but he'd never forget them. "Yes, sir," Don finally answered.
"He's our only viable suspect in this case," Merrick said. "I have an agent on the phone with a judge, getting me a warrant for his arrest."
"Why are you telling me?" Don asked, setting the file back on Merrick's desk. "I mean, according to regulations, I can't be involved in this case."
Merrick nodded. "I want you in the observation room while they question him. You're his brother, you'll be able to tell if he's lying."
Don snorted. "Sir, with all due respect, up until this morning, I haven't had contact with Todd since my mother died."
Merrick's brow lowered. "He contacted you?"
"Yes, sir," Don answered, sitting up straighter. "He called me this morning and told me he had information."
"What kind of information?" Merrick asked softly.
Don met Merrick's eyes steadily. "I don't know, sir. Todd and I don't exactly see eye-to-eye. We tend to bait each other until one or the other breaks and either hangs up or leaves."
Merrick sighed and sat back in his chair. "Brothers," he muttered.
Don eyed him, wondering if he was going to be reprimanded. Before any further conversation could be made, Merrick's phone rang.
"Merrick," he answered. "Good. Bring him in." He hung up and looked up at Don. "We have the warrant. Tauro's team is bringing him in. I'll call you when he gets here. Dismissed."
Don stood from the chair and tried very hard not to storm out of the office. He bypassed the elevators in favor of blowing steam on the stairs. He also bypassed his desk and Megan's curiosity in favor of going out on the bridge to try and clear his head. Megan found him anyway.
"What'd Merrick want?" She asked, handing him a cup of coffee and leaning next him on the railing.
"Todd killed again," Don answered, voice tight, trying very hard not to clench his hands around the paper cup. "I don't get it, Megan. If he still had people to kill, why wait nearly ten years to do it?"
"Maybe they were out of his reach," Megan suggested, lifting her own cup of tea to take a sip.
"They're bringing him in for questioning," he said softly. "They want me to observe so I can tell them if he's lying." He shook his head. "This morning was the first time I'd talked to him in years. He's harder to read now."
"Did you see him?" She asked with a frown.
He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. "I went to see Charlie after he called and he was there. That's probably where he was when he called. He was so composed, Megan, I'd never seen him that cool." He snorted. "At least until we started getting into it, like we always do."
"What did you say to him?" Megan questioned.
"He said he had information for me," Don started. "I told him I didn't need his help. He got mad and said he was offering an olive branch and that I was treating him like a pariah. Charlie said 'small wonder,' Todd replied they couldn't prove he did anything, I told him they couldn't prove that he didn't kill them, and then he left, saying something about telling Dad 'hi' for him."
"Maybe he was leaving you a clue," she suggested.
"What? Like, 'talk to Dad, he'll tell you everything'?" He asked.
"Maybe." Megan patted his shoulder then went back inside.
Don sighed and looked down into his rapidly cooling coffee. He'd spent the last eight years avoiding this subject with his family, except to rant. Maybe it was time to stop ranting and start listening. He pulled out his cell and called Alan. "Dad? It's Don, you got a minute?"
"Sure, what's up?" Alan replied.
"I wanted to ask you about Todd," Don answered, pacing towards the bench.
"Ahh, you're finally going to start asking questions?" Alan teased.
"What happened?" Don asked, sitting down.
"That's not really my story to tell, Donny," Alan responded. "Maybe you should try asking him."
"Yeah, well, it's a little late for that," Don said, leaning back. "They're bringing him in for questioning on a new case."
"What?!"
"I don't get it, either," Don replied, rubbing his forehead. "It doesn't make sense for him to wait this long."
"Don, Todd didn't kill whoever they're accusing him of killing now," Alan told him. "There's no one left for him to kill."
"Try convincing my boss of that," Don parried. "They want me to observe the questioning to see if I can read him."
Alan snorted. "Like that'll work."
"That's what I said, but he still wants me there." He sighed. "I gotta get going; I still have my own case to work on."
"Call me later and tell me what you can," Alan requested.
"I'll try," Don answered. "Bye."
"Bye."
*
Forty minutes after talking with Alan and getting no work done, Don's desk phone rang. "Eppes."
"Interrogation room B," Merrick told him shortly then hung up.
Don sighed and slowly stood. He looked up, meeting Megan's eyes. "Sometimes, I really hate my job," he muttered then walked to the observation room. He wasn't surprised to find Merrick waiting for him. He turned away from Merrick to the window for interrogation room B. Todd was lounging back in his chair, long legs sprawled under the table, one elbow hooked over the back of the chair, looking like he didn't have a care in the world.
"Why'd you kill them, Eppes?" Tauro asked.
"I'm not saying a single thing to you," Todd parried. "You bring Don in here, maybe I'll talk."
"He's not on this case, I am," Tauro countered. "You're stuck with me, kid."
Todd sneered at Tauro. "You're what? 39? 40? I'm not much younger than you, so don't call me kid."
Tauro leaned back in his chair and opened the case file on the table. "I have to admit, you've got a lot of power in those hands, kid."
Todd raised an eyebrow and stared back at Tauro blandly.
"What do you think you are?" Tauro asked, frustration creeping into his voice. "Some kind of vigilante?"
"You have to kill somebody to be a vigilante," Todd answered. "I didn't kill anybody."
Merrick turned to Don. "Is he lying?"
Don shrugged. "I told you, sir, I don't know this Todd. The martial arts are about control and he's using it."
Merrick eyed Don for a moment then left the observation room. Moments later, he knocked on the interrogation room door and Tauro joined him in the hall. Don watched Todd as they talked. Todd pulled the case file towards him and flipped through the photos, frowning. He glanced down at his own hands then back at the photos. He shook his head and pushed the folder away.
Don looked up when the door opened and Merrick and Tauro stepped into the room. "We're going to let you talk to him," Merrick informed him.
Don blinked in surprise. "You are?"
"Yes," Merrick answered. "It's obvious that the only way we're going to get anything out of him is to let him talk to you."
Don looked back into the interrogation room, a faint smile tugging the corner of his lips when he saw Todd was actually twiddling his thumbs while staring up at the ceiling and whistling softly. "Smart ass," he muttered under his breath before turning back to Merrick. "All right," he acquiesced and left the observation room. Stepping into the interrogation room, he was a little surprised to see Todd's shoulders relax a little. "Enjoying twiddling your thumbs, Todd?"
Todd grinned. "You know me, gotta have something to do with my hands."
"Yeah," Don said softly, sitting down in the chair across from Todd. "You wanted to talk to me. You sure you don't want a lawyer present?"
Todd shook his head. "Why would I need a lawyer? I didn't do anything to this guy, Don," he objected. "I mean, I have no illusions that he's completely innocent, but he didn't do anything to me."
"What do you mean?" Don asked, leaning forward.
"Don't you recognize the name?" Todd stared hard at Don.
Don looked at the victim's name then at his face and something clicked. "Oh, hell, Cartman."
Todd snorted. "Yeah. Someone was looking for vengeance on this guy, all right, but it wasn't me. I had no reason to touch him, even if it does look like those murders from eight years ago, which by the way, you have no solid evidence were committed by me."
"Do you have any idea who might've done it?" Don asked, sitting back.
Todd's lips tightened and he looked away.
"Come on, Todd, work with me here," Don wheedled.
Todd shook his head. "No."
Don started to say something but he was interrupted by a knock on the glass. He looked up and saw Megan standing there. "I'll be right back." He stood and went out into the hallway. "What's up?"
"I was looking at the new autopsy photos and comparing them to the old ones," she started. "There's no way that Todd was the killer this time."
"What do you mean?" Don asked, taking the photos from Megan and holding them side-by-side, glancing up briefly when Merrick and Tauro approached.
"The bruises on Cartman are too small to have been made by a man's hands," Megan answered triumphantly.
"So you're saying a woman killed him?" Tauro asked.
Megan nodded. "Or a small man, but more likely a woman."
Don couldn't quite quell the flare of triumph in his chest but he didn't let it show. He looked over at Merrick. "Then we can't keep him here. There's no evidence to suggest he killed Cartman and all the evidence for the old cases is circumstantial."
Merrick nodded grudgingly. "He's free to go."
Don nodded tightly and went back into the interrogation room. "You need a ride back to your place?" He asked.
"I can go?" Todd asked, surprised.
"New evidence came up, exonerating you," Don replied.
Todd sighed and slumped back in his chair. "I could use a ride, but not back to my place." He looked at Don meaningfully.
Don sighed and nodded. "All right. Let me get my stuff, then we can go."
Todd nodded and stood from his chair. "I'll be on the bridge," he said.
When Don stepped outside after gathering his things and telling the team to finish up for the night, he noticed that Todd was just hanging up his cell phone. "Ready to go?" Todd asked.
"Yeah," Don answered and led the way to the parking garage.
*
The drive to Charlie's house was made in heavy silence with a metaphorical elephant riding in the backseat. When they pulled into the driveway, Don didn't know whether to be relieved or not that both Dad's and Charlie's cars were sitting there as well. Both of them sat staring at the old house for long moments before they opened their doors and climbed out at the same time. Don walked quickly up the walk while Todd followed at a slower pace. At the door, Don paused and waited for Todd to catch up.
"I haven't been back here since…" Todd trailed off, knowing Don would understand what he meant.
"It's changed a little," Don replied and opened the door, warm, welcoming light spilling out into the darkness.
Todd trailed after Don into the house, eyes taking in the changes to the house since he'd last been there eight years before. Finally, his eyes met Alan and Charlie's stunned looks. "Hi, Dad, Charlie."
"Todd," Charlie said, still surprised.
"Hi," Alan greeted, smiling.
"I figured it was time to come home," Todd explained softly, still standing by the door.
"I don't know about you guys, but I think I'm gonna need a beer to get through tonight," Don said, hanging his jacket up and heading for the kitchen.
Todd winced. "That might not be the best idea."
Don stopped and turned to look questioningly at Todd.
"I don't think Dad would appreciate having to clean up glass shards," Todd admitted.
Don stared at Todd. All the bravado that he'd been running up against was gone and suddenly Todd was his kid brother again, cast aside by his brothers. "All right," he said, walking over to join Alan and Charlie in the living room. "Come sit down."
Todd hesitantly walked over to sit in the free armchair, hands clasped tightly together between his knees.
"Whenever you're ready," Alan said gently after several long moments of silence.
Todd glanced up from his hands and met Alan's eyes briefly before nodded. "I was ten when it first started," he began. "It was just touches at first. I thought he was correcting my form. Then we had sex ed in school and I knew it was more than that."
"Why didn't you tell someone?" Charlie asked softly.
Todd's hands clenched tighter. "Because it was attention," he replied softly. "That's all I wanted. It didn't matter that it was wrong. At least someone acknowledged that I existed."
"Oh, God," Alan whispered brokenly.
"Dad," Todd admonished forcefully. "You and Mom never neglected me. You were there as often as you could and I appreciate that. But he saw my vulnerability and capitalized on it. It's not your fault."
Alan looked up at Todd, tears in his eyes but he was smiling proudly. "You've been to therapy, haven't you?"
Todd flushed and looked down, hiding a secret smile. "Yeah."
Charlie glanced at Don, mischief in his eyes. "I guess it's a family trait."
Don laughed reluctantly. "I guess so."
"Anyway, when I was thirteen, it escalated," Todd continued. "He'd get me alone in the showers and make me," he paused and took a deep breath. "Masturbate for him. The first two times, I refused, but, well, when you're teaching martial arts, you know how to get even the most reticent person to cooperate. He didn't touch himself at first; he'd just watch me. But then he started touching himself through his gi and after a few months, he pushed his pants down and did it with me."
"Why didn't you quit?" Don asked abruptly.
"I couldn't," Todd admitted. "It was my thing, it was the only thing I had that was uniquely mine and, despite his…attentions, I loved it too much. For a while, when I was lost in it, I could believe that he didn't exist, that he couldn't hurt me. Besides, giving it up would have been letting him win. It was that damned Eppes stubborn determination, I guess." He shared a grin with Alan, Charlie, and Don. They were all intimately familiar with that. "Then one night, not long after I turned 16, the car wouldn't start after class. He offered to give me a ride home. Only, he didn't bring me here, he took me to his place where a couple friends were waiting for us." He looked up and met Don's eyes squarely. Don couldn't help flinching at the cold deadness in Todd's eyes. "They passed me around like I was some living sex doll," he growled, not breaking eye contact with Don. "But you know what was the worst part about that night and the other times they did it? They made sure I enjoyed it."
Don blanched and Todd flinched back when Charlie went racing past him, heading for the bathroom with his hand clamped over his mouth. Todd squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his hands, fingertips tight against his hairline. "God, I'm sorry," he said, voice breaking. "I never meant to tell you that."
"No," Alan said weakly. "No, we needed to know. We need to understand."
Todd looked up at Alan, ashamed to see that he was a little green as well. "You would've understood without knowing that."
"Look, we can sit here all night arguing," Don cut in. "It doesn't change the fact that it's out there and we know about it now."
Todd's cell phone rang then and, after a quick glance at the caller ID, he excused himself and went into the kitchen. Once Todd was out of earshot, Don stood and started pacing the living room, fists clenched at his sides, teeth gritted. "It's a damn good thing that guy is already dead," he snarled. "Or I would've killed him myself."
"It wouldn't have been your fight, Donny," Alan said softly. "Todd needs to deal with this himself, we can't do it for him."
Don sighed and sank back down into his chair. "Yeah, I know."
Silence descended as they waited for Charlie and Todd to come back. Charlie came back first; his face was damp, as were the curls around his face, and he was a little shaky, but that famous Eppes stubborn determination was in his dark eyes.
"Where's Todd?" He asked, sitting down in his former seat at the other end of the couch from Alan.
"He got a phone call," Don answered.
"Oh," Charlie said and something in his tone of voice caught Don's attention, but before Don could pursue it, Todd came back.
"It continued along the same vein for the next couple years," Todd said, sitting down in his chair. "For the most part, he was content with handjobs in the showers after class and competitions, but every couple months, he'd tell me to make excuses and he'd take me to his house and they'd do it all over again."
Don shot to his feet again, pacing between the dining room and his chair. "Son of a bitch," he growled. "You're telling me they did that for two years and no one noticed?"
Todd sighed. "They knew any visible bruising or difficulty moving could be put down to injuries during class or competition. They were preying on my vulnerabilities, remember?" He looked down at his hands. "They knew that, with me, even negative attention was better than no attention at all." He looked up again. "But I got away. I didn't tell him that I was going to UI Chicago for college."
"But didn't you have to tell the sensei you were leaving?" Alan asked.
Todd nodded. "Yeah, I asked him not to tell anyone, though. I said that I wanted to announce it on my own and I didn't want a going away party." A vindictive grin curled his lips. "I waited until the night before I was going to leave to announce it and then I skipped showering after class to make sure he couldn't catch me."
The other three all laughed. "I always knew you were smart," Alan praised.
Then the doorbell rang. Don, Charlie, and Alan all looked towards the door in confusion, but Todd stood and answered it. "Perfect timing," he said to the person on the porch. "Come in." Todd stepped back and a tall, slender man with mink brown hair stepped inside, smiling gently at Todd. To say Don and Alan were surprised would've been a vast understatement. Todd and the man turned to the others; there was apprehension and worry in Todd's eyes, but the other man's hazel eyes were challenging, yet calm. "You, uh, don't seem too surprised, Charlie," Todd said.
Don and Alan turned to look at Charlie, who was blushing but smiling faintly. "I, um, saw you two this morning, af-after you left my office."
Todd turned to look at the other man. "I told you they'd see you."
The man snorted. "Only Charlie saw me," he pointed out then stepped forward. "Since Todd seems to have something against introducing me, I'm Brad Fox. I was Todd's psychologist."
"Was?" Alan inquired.
Todd and Brad shared a smile. "I thought it prudent to have him switch psychologists when I started to take a less than professional interest in him."
"Oh," Alan said, frowning. Then light dawned. "Oh!"
Todd and Brad laughed.
"Wait, so you're…" Don trailed off, making a universal sign for 'together.'
Todd nodded. "Yeah. For almost five years, now."
"How can you be with a guy after…" Don frowned, trailing off again.
"I trust him," Todd answered with a shrug. "He showed me that it doesn't have to hurt. That it's okay to love a man."
Brad smiled as he wrapped an arm around Todd's waist and kissed his temple.
Alan sat back, smiling. "Welcome to the family, Brad."
Brad grinned at Alan. "Thank you," he said then turned back to Todd. "How far have you gotten?"
"Up to when I left for Chicago," Todd answered, taking Brad's hand and leading him into the living room. He glanced around, frowning, trying to figure out where Brad was going to sit. Brad just smiled at him, pushed him down to sit in his abandoned chair and settled on the arm of the chair, one arm draped across the back of the chair. "College was almost paradise for me," Todd said, picking up where he left off. "It was so nice to get away from people who expected things from me. Except, the communal showers were a little hard to handle at first. I'd jump every time someone came in, expecting it to be him, but gradually, my instincts got the picture that he wasn't there anymore, that I didn't have to be scared and that felt so good." Todd's smile was beatific. "The dojo was finally a place where I could retreat from everything and the only bruises I got were from classes and competitions." The smile fell and he sighed softly. "When it was closer to graduation, I wasn't ready to leave my haven, yet. I knew I wanted to come back home, but I wasn't ready to face him, so I started my graduate studies the semester after I finished my undergrad studies. By the time that was finished, I was ready. I'd heard there was a new dojo opening up so I applied there for a position. When I got a positive response back, I applied to work at a couple local museums and got the job at the Getty." He sighed and leaned into Brad's warmth. "That first year after I came home was great; I was doing what I loved, I was close to you guys again, and he didn't contact me." He paused and Brad's arm moved from the back of the chair to around his shoulders. He glanced up at Brad and smiled gratefully.
"Then, a year after I came back, he showed up at the dojo as I was leaving, grabbed my arm, walked for two blocks, and then shoved me in an alley," Todd said, looking down at his hands again. "I was more confused than scared; I knew I was too old for him to be interested in me, so why was he bothering me now? He pushed me back against the wall, his hands fisted in the collar of my jacket, and held me there. He threatened to sell me out for a fag if I told anyone what he did to me when I was a kid. Homosexuality was getting more accepted then, but it still would have ruined my career at the dojo. I asked him why he chose me, someone learning to defend himself, someone who could be just as strong as he was. He told me that he liked the challenge of it, the idea of his victims fighting back. He let me go and patted my cheek patronizingly. He reminded me about what he'd threatened and asked me what I thought you guys would think if you found out." He took a deep breath, tamping down the anger that was rising in his voice.
"I just…couldn't take it anymore. Before I knew what was happening, my hand had crashed against his chest and I could hear the bones snapping under my hand. He fell back against the opposite wall, breathing hard and clutching his chest, staring at me like he'd never seen me before. I knew that, if I didn't do something, he'd kick my ass, so I broke his arms to keep him from hitting me, kicked him in the side so he couldn't draw breath easily, and broke his knees so he couldn't kick me. I made sure not to hurt him so much he'd be insensate," his low voice turned to a growl and his upper lip lifted in a snarl. "I wanted him to suffer like I had, to fear like I had, and I wanted him to feel every god damned minute of it. After I broke his knee caps, I asked him if he liked being helpless, if he liked being so fucking scared for his life, if he liked the fact that a student twenty years his junior had kicked his ass, if he still liked to share 16-year-old boys with his friends. He laughed, then, told me 'yes,' and kept right on laughing. I kicked him in the head to get him to stop, but he wouldn't, then I kicked him in the balls, and he still wouldn't stop laughing, so I broke his neck to shut him up. It didn't help much, I still hear him laughing in my head, sometimes." Todd didn't look up to see the stunned expressions on Alan, Don, and Charlie's faces; he just turned to Brad, wrapped his arms around his waist, and buried his face in Brad's lap. Brad murmured soothingly to him and ran his fingers through Todd's hair, his free hand rubbing soothingly along Todd's arm across his stomach. Todd's harsh breathing and Brad's hand stroking over Todd's grey thermal shirt were the only sounds in the room.
"The only evidence they have is circumstantial," Don said into the silence. The other four men looked at him. "The only reason Todd's a suspect is because he was the last person seen with him. That's all."
Brad nodded, understanding in his eyes.
*
Later that night, at Don's apartment
"Did you find what you were looking for?"
Don's head jerked up at the familiar voice. "Mom?"
"Hello, sweets." Margaret smiled.
"What, what're you doing here?" Don asked.
"I'm here for you," she replied. "It's about time you got your head out of your ass and actually talked to him."
Don flushed and looked away from her sharp jade eyes. "I figured it was time to stop ranting," he mumbled.
"So, did you?"
"I…don't know," he admitted. "I always thought they were just some random guys who pissed him off, but it's so much worse. I deal with stuff like that every day, but it's different when the victim's your own brother."
Margaret nodded. "Now that you know, what are you going to do?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" She asked, head tilted slightly.
"Yeah, I mean, what else can I do?" Don asked. "I wish like hell that I was the one who killed those guys, but I can't begrudge him that closure. Besides, I think he's happy now: he has his family back, he has Brad, and I think he knows I won't turn him in."
Margaret smiled and kissed Don's forehead, he closed his eyes at the familiar touch. "Thank you," she said and when Don opened his eyes, she was gone.
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no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 06:02 pm (UTC)Once I started reading I couldn't stop :)
LOVED the character of Todd, you fleshed him out very nicely in just one story... I'm gonna expect to see him pop out in Numb3rs new season now lol. Nice touch with the martial arts btw... each brother excelling at something different.
I really felt for Todd when he described what happened to him. I was with Don though... I wanted to find these guys and kill them *conjures fireball*
I can understand why Todd killed him even while I wouldn't condone it.
It was nice how Todd found love though :).
Are you going to do another story with Todd? like maybe a backstory of Todd going to therapy and falling for Brad?
Girl can hope lol ;-)
Anyways, awesome job on the story *hugs* Keep up the good work!
TL
ignore any typos lol
no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 06:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 06:14 pm (UTC)Your welcome :)
no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 06:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 06:38 pm (UTC)Hopefully we'll get to see some fireworks
Do you know of any good fics where Charlie and Don have a huge fight and don't make up right away?
You know... I had a weird thought the other day while I was watching the 4400: What if Charlie was one of the people 'taken'? Maybe like in 99 and he came back either just before his mother died or after...
Not writing a story 'bout it lol (not a writer) but that popped into my head *shrugs* don't ask me why :P
no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 06:42 pm (UTC)Ummm, not off the top of my head. *carefully pokes such a story that's been hiding on her hard drive for months* *whistles innocently*
I've never seen the 4400, so that went right over my head (just like most of Charlie's math until he uses the analogy *G*).
no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 06:48 pm (UTC)Here's the link if you want to watch the pilot:
http://www.tv-links.co.uk/show.do/1/2
Show description: As the reappearance of 4,400 missing persons on a single day confounds the global community, federal agents on the case slowly discover the ways in which the victims have been changed.
*REALLY* good show :)
----
I'm with ya on the math lol... that and science were my worst subjects in school
my AIM sns if you ever want to talk sometime:
GodricRowena
GuevaraX5452
I think my emails on my profile page
no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 07:09 am (UTC)It was the picture of Nick Lea that caught my attention :D Yummy man, he is.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 05:15 pm (UTC)He so is. I've tried imagining Todd as different actors but *shakes head* Only Nick would do. *pets him*
no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 11:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 05:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-06 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-06 04:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-06 05:01 pm (UTC)