Tomorrow morning you'll meet Dr. Marston, who's in charge of Raymond's psychiatric evaluation.
Yeah, I know.
I gave him boxes of files on Raymond, boxes.
Well, good luck.
Look, this isn't a close call, son, it's a formality. Your brother's a very disabled individual.
You trying to tell me that Marston's gonna rule against me? Is that why you called me up here?
No, I'm telling you it's always been a lost cause, Charlie.
Then what is this about? Why did you call me?
Let me tell you something: your father put me in charge of all the money, all right?
Yeah.
And it doesn't matter whether or not you win custody of Raymond.
Mm-hm.
I won't have to pay you a dime. It's at my discretion, not the court's.
What, so you can't lose?
I can lose. I can lose Raymond. I happen to care about your brother's life and the treatment he receives. I made a commitment to your father some 20 years ago, and I'm not willing to gamble with that.
It's a very big check.
$250,000.
And no strings attached. You just walk away., Charlie. You know, this isn't about you and me, it's not about winning or losing.
When I asked you a week ago, "Why didn't anyone tell me I had a brother?", you didn't have an answer, I don't know. It's funny, I just realized I'm not pissed off anymore that my father cut me out of his will. You were his friend, you probably knew that he tried to contact me a few times over the years. I never called him back, I was a prick. And if he was my son, didn't return my calls, I'd have written him out, **** him. But it's not about the money anymore. It's about...you know, I...just don't understand why didn't he tell me I had a brother? Why didn't you tell me I had a brother? Why didn't anyone ever tell me I had a brother? I mean...because it'd have been nice to know him for more than just these past six days.
[Charlie hands the check back to Dr. Bruner and walks away]
