Disclaimer: How many people read these disclaimers that say no to something that's obvious...?

A/N: Hey y'all! You have pushed me furthar than I thought! Haha, I'm actually posting another chapter today-- I've been writing on this story a lot. Which surprises me-- I usually take a couple of days between updates. But, I have this chapter done, and you all are awesomely reviewing so I'll post it. This chapter is bringing in the suspense more, and by the end of the chapter you can tell that it's going to start to take a turn. I hope you enjoy, thanks for reviewing, and keep it up! Thanks!

When Don opened his eyes, an odd feeling enveloped him. So often he'd wake from his dreams with sweat stiff on his face, and his heart pounding from a bad dream. So rarely would Don be able to sleep past four or five hours before the dreams of him finding a dead Charlie would force him to reality.

But something was different now. What?

Like a sudden rush, the memories from the previous evening replayed in his head, and Don sat bolt upright in his bed, breathing hard.

"Charlie…"

A quick look at the clock beside his bed told Don that the time was just past eleven-thirty in the morning. He'd slept over ten hours?!

"Damn it," Don struggled to untangle himself from the sheets on the bed, and find his pants.

He had wanted to make sure he was up early so that he'd be there when Charlie woke up. That obviously hadn't happened as Don listened, and could hear people moving around and talking downstairs. Guilt rushing through him, Don did up the belt on his pants, then flung on his button-up dress shirt; not even bothering to do it up. His feet thumped down the stairs, and his eyes scanned the area. Immediately he spotted where the talking had been coming from. Sitting in the living room were Charlie and Amita curled up together on the couch, Larry in one of the large chairs, and Alan in his recliner. All three looked up when Don entered the room.

"I thought you were going to sleep all day," Alan spoke with a smile.

"Yeah," Don rubbed his tired eyes as he glanced once more at everyone, his eyes landing finally on Charlie, "You should have woken me."

"I'm innocent," Charlie raised one hand in defense, his other around Amita, "I was asleep until about an hour ago when Amita got here."

"Larry was able to get a hold of me this morning and tell me what happened," Amita supplied, "I got here as quick as possible."

"That's good," Don felt at a loss for words, and suddenly realize how much his body was crying out for coffee.

Making his way to the kitchen, Don entertained himself by trying to think of how many laws he'd broken the night before. The slight hangover he currently held let him know that he was probably driving over the legal limit. He also remembered driving through more than one red light or stop sign, as well using his FBI authority for reasons that weren't authorized.

"Hey Don…" Charlie's voice from the doorway brought Don back to the present time.

"Hey Buddy," Don held his recently poured cup of coffee as he faced his brother, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Charlie nodded, looking nervous about the words he was going to speak, "Listen… I just wanted to say… I am sorry. I-I know none of this could have been easy on you, and I just wish…"

Charlie stopped his words, at a loss of how to apologize for something he couldn't talk about.

"Charlie, it's alright. I'm not mad at you," Don shook his head, "I was just… more scared than I think I've ever been. You were gone for over four months, and it was so frustrating not knowing what was happening or if you were alright. Hell, they wouldn't even tell me if you were alive."

"I'm sorry," Charlie whispered.

Don rolled his eyes before getting serious, "Just… tell me that you're ok, and that you're back for good now."

"I'm ok," Charlie quickly insisted, "I'm-I'm more than ok, I'm great. I'm back with my family and friends, which is all I ever wanted."

Don paused before speaking, "Charlie… what happened?"

"Don, you know I can't tell you that," Charlie's voice went back to apologetic.

"Who hurt you?" Don tried to sound monotone, though anger seemed to slip into his voice.

"Don… you have to understand," frustration washed through Charlie, "…I can't tell you. I-I can't let down my responsibilities, no matter how much I want to tell you, nor how much you want to know. I just want to forget about it all, and-and move on."

"Well how do I know that whoever did this to you won't come back and do it again?" Don gave up on trying to stay calm, "Charlie, I don't want to be worrying every minute of the day that some person is going to come and beat the crap out of you again because the damn authorities don't care!"

"Don, they made sure…" Charlie looked awkward, "…they made sure that wouldn't happen. They took care of it."

"Charlie, I have seen how they take care of things," Don placed his coffee on the counter, "I have read the reports that come across my desk on how they handle things."

"Don, this is different--" Charlie began, but was interrupted.

"How?!" Don yelled, "Tell me how this is different!"

"It just is!" Charlie's voice was raised too, though sounded desperate to finish the conversation.

Don saw, once again, the bruises on Charlie's face, and the plastic brace which remained on his arm, "Tell me who you were consulting with."

Charlie remained silent, not wanting to have to say that he couldn't talk about it again. Impatiently Don waited, and was just about to force his brother to speak when Alan walked into the kitchen.

"Hey Charlie, I think Larry wanted to talk to you about something," Alan spoke to Charlie, though was looking at his eldest.

Giving a delayed look at Don, Charlie nodded and walked out of the room.

"I know," Don sighed immediately as he turned his back to his father, "I know I shouldn't have yelled. I'm sorry."

"You're damn right you are!" Alan tried to keep his voice from filtering into the living room, "Your brother comes back after missing for months, and you feel the need to yell at him and lecture him?"

Don's hand was partially covering his mouth as he turned around to face his Dad, "I know. I just… lost it," Don's eyes swam with desperate tears, "Someone hurt him Dad. All my life it was like… my job to protect him. And now he won't even say what happened."

Alan walked closer, and placed a hand on the side of Don's face, "I know it's hard Donny, but sometimes secrets have to be kept. Charlie talked to me, and told me that whoever his assignment was with is making sure he's safe, and that he's not in any danger. Look at it this way; they wouldn't have let him come back home if it wasn't safe."

Don nodded, feeling deflated, "Yeah."

"Good," Alan smiled, satisfied, "Now go in there and have fun. Have something to eat, and try to be happy about what's happened."

Forcing a smile, Don again nodded, and stuck some bread into the toaster. The next hour went by smoothly in the Eppes house. The argument seemingly forgotten, Don and Charlie joked around in their usual manner as visitors came and went. It was at three in the afternoon that Charlie announced that he was going to head into CalSci to sort through some of his work.

"Charlie, no," Don immediately spoke, "Don't be an idiot."

The words wouldn't have been spoken if there was anybody but himself and Alan left in the house.

"Don, I'm just going in to sort out some paper work and talk to the dean," Charlie spoke exasperated, "I won't be gone long, and Larry and Amita are meeting me there. Don't you have work down at your office you need to do?"

Anything other than 'yes' would have been a lie, so Don answered with a deep, dramatic sigh, "Charlie, please… just… you just got back Buddy."

"I know," Charlie's voice softened, "And I just want to get back to normal. Please."

Knowing he couldn't actually control what his brother did, and not wanting to get into another argument Don nodded and left to take a shower. By the time he came down, Charlie was gone, and Alan sat in his chair reading a newspaper.

"Chuck leave?" Don tried to sound lighthearted.

"Yeah," Alan looked up from his paper, "He said he would be home for supper. Are you going to be here?"

"Yeah," Don ran a hand across his face; a nervous habit which seemed to be quickly growing, "I might be a little late though; I'm going to head into the office and see what's happening there."

"Ok," Alan went back to the paper.

By the time Don got into the FBI headquarters, he'd fully convinced himself that there was something going on with Charlie. Not only was Charlie acting unusually reserved about his assignment, but he also didn't seem to be welcoming the older brother protectiveness; something that the youngest Eppes seemed to rely on at hard times. Don was sitting at his desk lost in these thoughts when Colby walked over.

"Deep thoughts?" the agent joked.

"Huh?" Don looked up, "Oh… yeah, sorry. I'm just… something doesn't feel right with Charlie."

"Well he was gone for four months. Who knows what happened to him," Colby spoke, then realizing the impact of his words quickly added, "I'm sure it's nothing."

"Well I need to know for sure," Don stated.

"You already tried to figure out what he was doing, or even who he was working for," Colby sat on the edge of Don's desk, "You got stopped at the NSA."

"I know," Don paused for a moment before a small smile twitched at his features, "Charlie's not the most observant person in the world…"

Colby laughed, "That's an understatement."

Don nodded, still thinking.

As if finally figuring out Don's thought process, a somewhat stunned look came to Colby's face as he spoke, "You're not seriously thinking about tailing your own brother, are you?"

"I have to know what's going on," Don justified, "And if he's not going to tell me, I'll have to figure it out my own way."

Again Colby laughed, this time out of disbelief, "So what, you're just going to follow Charlie all day tomorrow to see where he goes in some vain hope that he'll go to whoever did this to him?"

Don shrugged, "It's something."

Colby shook his head, "Man, I don't envy you. Following around a mathematician all day… that's going to be the longest stakeout in the history of the FBI."

"Don't worry," Don got up to head to the break room, "You're coming with me."

Don got back to the house only a half hour after Charlie did. Maybe if he'd been slightly more observant, or wasn't so exhausted and hungry, the FBI agent might have noticed the dark blue car parked across the street. A man sat inside with an official looking suit on and a gun attached to his hip. A pair of binoculars sat beside him which had been used several times throughout the day to spy on his prey. Maybe if Don had been just a little bit earlier he'd have noticed the man who was following one Professor Charles Eppes.

...to be continued...