Don looked at Alan incredulously a moment, then growled and walked over to the end table, kicking it and sending the lamp flying. Alan winced, then looked at his son reproachfully.

"How, how could he..." Don breathed, almost pleading with his father, his eyes watery.

Alan wasn't sure himself, but, being a father, he forced himself to look at both sides. "Charlie... was doing what he thought was right. Just like you do every day."

He held up a hand when Don went to protest. "I'm not saying he wasright, just that he ws doing what he felt he should. Now, aren't you gonna go up to the office? They're going to take him to one of those little rooms..." Alan said, worry creeping into his tone for the "baby" of the family.

"Well, he kind of deserves at least that." Don spat.

"Donald Eppes!"

"Dad, he's a grown man, he has to accept consequences..." Don said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not Guantanamo, it's my office!"

"And, you are not there!" Alan said, disapproval in his tone.

Don looked at him, frustrated, gesturing wildly with his hand. "If I was there, they wouldn't let me be in there with him! They won't let any of the team... they probably won't even let any of them in the booth, and if they were to let them in the booth, what difference would it make? They're probably going to be all feeling betrayed..."

"Oh, like you are?" Alan asked. "Well, maybe you're both feeling a little betrayed."

"But, the law..." Don tried, and the words sounded a little whiny, a little pointless, even to him.

Alan's huge sigh of disappointment, and then silence said more than Don needed to hear, and he grabbed his coat and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.


Don walked into the office, knowing that he was only minutes behind his brother. He walked up to David and Colby, who were talking together in hushed voices, but stopped when they saw him.

"Don..." Colby blanched. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry about---"

"Right now, don't." Don snapped.

Colby clammed up, looking at his shoes.

"He still in the room?"

"Yes." David said slowly. "But... they're not gonna let you in there, man. You know that."

"No, but... I should be in the booth at least. I just... I need to hear, I need to see... Plus, I want to make sure he's okay."

"They aren't gonna smack him around." Colby said, exhasperated. "What he did... he can't get by with everything just 'cause he's your little brother."

As soon as the words escaped Colby's lips, he wished he could suck them back in, because Don's chocolate brown eyes burned, nearly singing a hole through him.

"I never said he could get by with things because he was my little brother!" Don yelled, getting into Colby's personal space. "I'm just as mad about this as you are--- hell, madder! But, you just remember the past four years... all he's done for all of us, and what does he ask for in return? Huh? A little loyalty... I'm mad right now, yeah, mad at him enough to spit nails, but... he's still Charlie."

The tough soilder stood stoic as Don stalked away, though, his insides were shaking a little. David patted him on the shoulder, and watched as Don went into the booth so he could at least see and hear Charlie, even if Charlie didn't know it...

Ten minutes later, a visibly shaken Charlie came out, but... not Don. David guessed he wouldn't, either, until Charlie was gone, so, he offered the kid a ride home. Charlie was quiet, his eyes red-rimmed, but he didn't cry, he didn't say a word. Just stared out of the window until they reached the Craftsman house. David reached out a hand to put on Charlie's shoulder, but, Charlie shrank away from him.

"I'm... I'm sorry, man." David said softly.

But, Charlie shook his head. "S'ok. Had a good run, eh?" he offered, giving David a weak smile, and scrambled to the garage.

David sighed. Yeah, Don was right. He was still Charlie... and, David could only offer up a silent prayer that the right people got it through their heads before it was too late...