Chapter Text
Title: Love Hurts
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, not mine, characters belong to their creators, etc. Only thing mine here is the soulmate au idea.
Don held the phone to his ear and listened to his brother rant.
“This is literally insane. This cannot be remotely acceptable. Don, I can’t find anything, you said you left a message?”
“Yeah, Charlie, a while ago, when I got the call and headed out here to the crime scene. What happened? Your department secretary is usually on top of these things.”
“She met her soul mate.”
“Uh oh.”
“Uh oh is right, she was walking across campus and was hit by a truck. He ran his bicycle into a light post. They will be in the same hospital room, making googly eyes at each other because they will both be in traction and her office is a disaster area that I will probably end up having to create an unique algorithm to sort in order to find anything resembling this message you left for me.”
“Chuckles, it really is not all that bad.”
“Says the guy who survived three years of calamitous accidents before he and his equally clueless soulmate realized they were meant to be together and it was not just occupational hazards.”
“Chuck, that’s just uncalled for, Coop and I are very happy and it was not three years.”
“Right, it was two years and seven months. You are lucky that Cooper has a very solid cranium or you could be spending the joys of your relationship visiting him in a hospital ward while he languishes in a vegetative state.”
“Charlie! It wasn’t that bad.”
“Don, Five percent of the world population perishes in the process of meeting their soul mates. It is a terrible thing.”
“Larry was fine.”
“He was rendered homeless.”
“David.”
“Trapped in a burning building.”
“Amita.”
“Bit by a snake.”
“That friend of yours, the computer programmer.”
“Attacked by geese.”
“Her girlfriend.”
“Fell in a hole in the street.”
“That research assistant you had.”
“Nearly electrocuted by a faulty calculator.”
“Megan”
“Kidnapped!”
“Colby.”
“Almost executed.”
"Millie."
"Mugged by a mime."
"Susan"
"Fell out a window."
"Chuckles, you know that's not exactly what happened."
"Right, right. First she tripped over her cat, then as she turned around she smacked her hand on a hot iron and then she fell out the window."
"Was only the first floor, though."
"Still dangerous."
“Mom and Dad.”
“She was hit by the police car that he had been placed in after being arrested.”
“It was a gentle tap, she didn’t even bruise.”
“Oh, of course, a love tap from a police cruiser. I hear birds singing, cupids sending out deadly arrows of destruction.”
“Charlie, just grab the files from the office and meet me at the crime scene. Please?”
“Okay. I will see you there. I might be a little late.”
“Why?”
“Made idealistic undergrads cry. They seem to still believe the movies where you accidentally spill coffee on someone’s lap and they trip on their shoelaces standing up. Honestly, that level of minor incident in soulmate meetings is barely even statistically significant.”
“Charlie, stop. Just because you seem to feel like your lack of finding your soulmate means that the universe has some dire consequence set up for you doesn’t mean that you won’t just spill coffee or trip on your shoelaces and end up happily ever after.”
“Says the guy who finally clued in after six broken bones, two concussions, a gun shot wound and being bitten by a badger and those are just the physical things that happened to you.”
“Just calm down the undergrads and get here as soon as you can.”
Charlie hung up on him.
Don sat on a bench near the crime scene wondering what could have happened. His brother was now over two hours late and not answering his cell.
Megan could not reach Agent Edgerton either and his plane had arrived hours ago.
Don jumped as his cellphone rang.
“Don Eppes.”
“Hi. Hi. Don. Yes. Don.”
His brother sounded a little spacey.
“Charlie?!? Where are you? You were supposed to meet me here hours ago!”
“I got shot.”
Don felt the blood drain from his face.
“What?”
“I got shot at the FBI office.”
Don’s mind raced through the possibilities, terrorists, hate groups, mentally disturbed interns.
“Charlie?”
“He shot me. No one can figure out how, because he had unloaded the gun. There’s film.”
“Who shot you, Charlie?”
“My soul mate.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Yep. He apologizes a lot. Also to you, because he can’t work the case.”
“Charlie? You aren’t making sense.”
“Sorry, there are drugs. “
“I bet there are, buddy. Can you explain what happened in three sentences? I am on my way.”
“I went to the FBI and picked up the files. An intern told me that Agent Edgerton was down at the range and was also working this case and maybe we should ride to the crime scene together. I went down to the range and he shot me.”
“Okay. Where did he shoot you?”
“In front of the door to the range.”
“On your body, Chuck.”
“He shot me in the foot.”
“In the foot.”
“With an unloaded gun. He’s suspended for the length of the investigation so he probably can’t work your case.”
“Well, at least the worst is over?”
“Ha. Says you. We haven’t told dad yet.”
“I’m on my way. No more phone calls until you’re off the drugs.”
"I don't hurt as much as I think I should right now."
"That's the drugs, buddy."
“He really is sorry.”
“I bet he is.”
“And kinda cute in a deadly sort of way.”
“Hang up now, Chuckles.”
Don tossed his phone onto the passenger seat and drove to the hospital. At least he could now stop worrying about his brother meeting his soulmate and start thinking of a plan to explain the lack of grandchildren to their father. Maybe he and Coop would adopt.