How Did It Come To This?

By: Montez

Part-3

A/N: First I just want to say I am overwhelmed. I don't have the words to thank each and every one of you wonderful people who have read and reviewed this story. I am glad I am hitting the emotion in people that I was reaching for. This was written from my heart, though I have not lost a parent, my father-in-law passed four-years ago, rather suddenly and I saw what my husband went through. I also drew some of it from watching my own parents go through loosing there own parents; my mother lost both of hers in the span of four months. I have found as I grow older I worry more about my parents, and the way I wrote this, especially the first chapter, is a fear I have. THANK YOU all again for your reviews and support. You all are amazing!--Montez

The next few days were a blur. Upon learning their father had taken care of everything, it left Don and Charlie with nothing to do but accept people's condolences and grieve. Charlie had asked his brother to stay at the house and Don did, though at first it was difficult walking through the place, expecting to hear Alan's voice from the next room.

They had each been unable to enter the back yard so David and Colby took it upon themselves to clear away the remnants left by the EMTs and to put away the over-turned ladder. They were never able to determine why Alan may have been on the ladder to start with, but it would not have changed the outcome. Larry assisted them in finding the food for the Koi and then by taking care of the fish pond for a few days.

Megan and Amita had made it their mission to make sure that both Don and Charlie ate. Knowing how both men were when they had other things on their minds, they wanted to make sure they didn't neglect themselves in their grief. So the first few days after Alan's death passed.

The morning of the funeral Don asked David to take him to his apartment to get his black suit. Upon returning Don did what he had done out of habit since he was a teenager; he placed his keys on the table near the door and sorted through the mail. Someone had been gathering it in the last few days, but as Don hadn't left the house and apparently Charlie hadn't gone through it, Don found himself flipping absently amongst the envelopes and magazines. Don never received mail at his brother's house, but he was never questioned by his father or brother as to why he investigated the collection anyway. As he placed another piece of mail he had picked up into a separate pile his movements froze as he reached for the next-an envelope addressed to him. He picked it up and noticed a similar one underneath it with Charlie's name on it. His heart had started racing as he recognized the writing on each envelope, only to have it verified as he looked at the return address: A. Eppes.

"CHARLIE!" Don's hands began shaking as he noted the postmark date; it was the day their father had died. "CHARLIE!"

At his brother's panicked yell, Charlie came flying down the stairs with Amita close behind. Megan and Larry rushed in from the kitchen at the distressed sound of Don's voice. "What? Don are you okay?" Charlie took in his brother's pale appearance and the shaking of his hands as Don continued to stare at the envelopes he held. "Don?" Charlie touched his brother's arm; tear-filled eyes met his gaze. Megan, Larry and Amita watched as Don handed one of the envelopes to Charlie.

"It's…it's from Dad." Don's voice, just above a whisper, broke.

"What?" Charlie stared at what Don had just handed him, immediately recognizing his father's writing.

"Look at the postmark," Don added, as he slowly started making his way past his brother, toward the living room.

"Oh God," Charlie gasped.

"Charlie?" Amita questioned as she lightly touched Charlie's arm.

"The day…It's marked the day dad died." Charlie, lost in his examination of the envelope, allowed his feet to carry him; not toward his brother in the living room, but toward the kitchen. Amita followed Charlie as Larry and Megan stayed near the living room watching Don.

They watched as he slowly turned the envelope over, almost as if he was handling a fragile piece of glass, and slowly opened the seal. His hand went to his mouth as he silently read:

Donnie,

I know what you're thinking; 'what's up with dad?' Here I'm writing you a letter when I could easily call you. I just felt compelled to write to you. You always go through the mail (don't think I don't notice), but you never get anything, so I thought I'd send you a letter.

First off, no, nothing is wrong with me; isn't it okay for a father to write his son? Yes, you know I worry about you. You have such a dangerous job and I'm sure what you don't tell me is even scarier than what you do tell me. But do you know in what I take comfort? You're good at your job and you have surrounded yourself with others who are as good at theirs as you are at yours. (You remember to tell them that sometimes.)

I know it wasn't easy for you in your brother's shadow. I worried for so long that in some way your mother and I failed you by having to spend so much time and energy with Charlie, but I've come to see it's what helped make you into the man you are. I know you got frustrated and yes, even angry, (don't think I didn't notice--I'm your father). Your brother had things come to him much easier, but you made the best out of a tough situation and as I said, it made you who you are.

Always remember you are a very intelligent, very capable man. Don't ever doubt that. Even though I was upset at the time when you told us you were joining the FBI (G-man!), I've come to see how much of a difference you've made. I worry about you when you have tough cases, but I see that spark in your eyes when you finally close the case and get the bad guy. It's not a spark of pride in yourself, but of satisfaction in making a difference.

What I don't know is if you see the pride in my eyes when I see what you've accomplished. I am VERY PROUD OF YOU SON! I may not say it enough, but I am. I always have been and always will be, don't you ever forget that.

It warms my heart to have watched you and your brother reconnect and grow close again. I worried about that for a long time too, but in my heart I knew you'd find each other again.

I just wanted to let you know of my pride in you and to tell you that I LOVE YOU. I know it's never said enough, but always remember I'LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!

Dad

Don's breath caught in his throat as a strangled sob escaped his mouth. His knees gave out as he dropped to the floor. Megan rushed to his side. "Don?" Her heart broke as she felt him cling to her as waves of sobs racked his body. Megan glimpsed the last line of Don's letter as she held him tight, tears flowing from her own eyes, as the loss was truly felt by Don Eppes.

1212121212121212

Charlie had unconsciously made his way to the garage, Amita followed. It had been the first time since that day he had been in the yard, but he was so absorbed in the envelope in his hand he didn't notice. He sat heavily on the battered sofa, as he opened the envelope and pulled the letter from within.

Charlie,

I was just compelled to write this, no logic involved. I just watched you leave out the back door, heading off to help your brother. You know I worry about you, it's a parent's right (if I ever get those grandchildren you'll see). I worried as you were growing up that your mother and I sheltered you too much. Once your gift was discovered, we wanted you to have every opportunity to nurture that gift, sometimes at the expense of doing things kids your own age were doing. Sometimes we didn't think past your education and I'm sorry about that. As you grew older you were in such advanced classes you really didn't have anyone your own age to confide in.

I know you were always closer to your mother; she understood you much better then I was able. I have since gotten a glimpse of the way you see things and that has helped me understand you better. I know since her death you worried that having gotten lost in your numbers, at the end, hurt your mother. She understood you, how your mind worked, how you coped with things. She loved you very much and understood once you worked through your numbers you would be able to accept what was happening to her. Son, she understood. It took me a little longer, but I eventually did too.

I want you to understand it never affected how I felt about you. For all my worry and concern you have grown into a fine young man. Someone who sees the best in people and does everything possible to help others. I'M PROUD OF YOU.

I know you and your brother had your rough times, but it has meant so much to me to see you both grow close again. I see how much you enjoy working with your brother, I also see how much he enjoys working with you. I know that is hard for you to see, but I'm your father; I notice these things.

As I said, I'm very proud of the man you have become. I also want to say what I feel I never say enough, I LOVE YOU. I always have and I always will love you son, remember that.

Dad

Tears silently streamed down Charlie's face as Amita moved next to him. He leaned into her as she put her arms around him. She held him as he silently cried, for the father he'd never see again.

1212121212121212

A while later Charlie and Amita made their way back into the house; they needed to finish getting ready for the funeral. Charlie silently climbed the stairs, pausing at his brother's slightly opened door. He saw his brother adjusting his tie in the mirror. Charlie knocked lightly as he slowly pushed the door open. Charlie noted his brother's eyes were red and puffy, much like his own.

"Hey Buddy." Don turned, walking up to his brother, pulling him into a hug. "You okay?" Don pulled back looking into his little brother's face.

"About as okay as you." Charlie attempted a lop-sided smile that didn't reach his eyes. Don nodded, conceding to his brother's comment. Who is ever okay on the day of a parent's funeral? As Don stepped back toward the mirror, Charlie cleared his throat. "Will you stay for a while?"

"Yeah, sure." Don looked questioningly at his brother. He had been staying at the house, so the question seemed a little unnecessary.

"Don, I mean… will you move back here for a while? I just need…" Charlie felt foolish admitting he didn't want to be alone in the house.

"You sure?" Don almost sounded relieved. The last couple of days since he had been staying over, made him want to stay longer. It wasn't only the comfort the house seemed to bring, but being close to his brother that was helping as well. It was something he felt in his heart he needed, but was afraid to ask.

"Yeah I'm sure…I like you being here." A spark of hope flashed in Charlie's eyes.

"Okay, we'll talk more about it later." Don got a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Like what I should do when Amita's over."

Charlie allowed an embarrassed smile to cross his face. "We'll think of something…I…I've got to get ready." Charlie exited the room, a bit of the heaviness leaving his heart knowing he wouldn't lose his brother, now that their father was gone. Charlie knew what his father had written in his letter rang true. He and his brother had grown closer, and for that Charlie was eternally grateful.

1212121212122

A couple of days after the funeral Don's team returned to work. He requested an additional couple of weeks off as Charlie and he were working on moving Don back into their childhood home. They agreed to leave their father's room as it had been, at least for now. They then set about getting Don's old room set up, storing what Don wanted to keep and didn't have room.

The night they finally got everything situated they each took a beer and went to sit on the back porch. It would take them each a while for the image of that day to fade, if it ever did, but slowly they made an effort to enjoy the backyard as their father had done.

"You know sometimes I think I hear dad out here." Charlie spoke quietly, hoping his brother didn't think he was crazy.

"Yeah, me too. I've even checked." Don glanced at his little brother, no doubt worrying the same thing.

"I hope we don't lose that. I hope we can always feel him around, just like with mom. I still feel her sometimes." Charlie took a long drink.

"Me too. Hey, I'm glad you asked me to move back. I feel better when I'm here." Don took his own drink.

"Good. Hey…" Charlie sat up in his chair. "How about we have everyone over? Maybe have a cook-out?"

"Sounds good Buddy, just as long as you don't cook." Don smiled at his brother's mock surprise.

"Geez, burn the ribs once and it's never forgotten," Charlie commented.

They both laughed out loud as Alan and Margaret watched from the Koi pond.

"They'll be okay." Alan stated, bringing his wife's hand to his lips.

"We always knew they would be." Margaret brought her other hand up to caress her husband's cheek. They both glanced back toward the porch as laughter again erupted, then turned and faded into the night.

A/N: Again thank you all for staying with me through this. Also, another loud shout-out to FraidyCat for being the wonderful, amazing Beta she is.