Chapter Seven: The Mind is Its Own Place

"The Mind is its own place, and in itself can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven" - John Milton, Paradise Lost

Don leaned over the table and did his best to either develop x-ray vision or stare a hole through the kitchen door to get one more look at his brother. He knew Charlie was out there sleeping….safe and sound…at least physically.

"Charlie was okay, right?"

He turned back and raised his eyebrows at his father.

"I mean…he's okay now…isn't he?"

Alan heaved a deep sigh as he pulled himself to his feet. Gathering the dishes from the breakfast table he lifted his eyes to look at his oldest son.

"He was pretty tore up, Donnie. He'd just seen a ghastly thing. I saw the car myself. It was…."

Alan stopped and shuttered.

"It was horrific. Seeing them pull Ethan's body out was bad enough. I never saw Becky, or sweet little Emily. But Charlie did. Charlie did. And from what he told me…..."

He stopped again and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Watching his father's anguish manifest itself, Don shook his head in disbelief.

"Dad, this thing that happened…If I could have been here, you know…."

"Oh, Donnie. Of course we know that."

Circling back around to the table, Alan made a plate of food for Charlie with the leftovers and carried the remaining dishes to the sink.

"Don, Charlie was still trying to process what he'd seen and on top of that he'd incurred a significant head injury. He was in shock on several levels. Megan said that strong reactions to this kind of trauma are not uncommon. And to Charlie, losing Ethan was like……….."

Again, Alan was faced with using the word 'brother'.

He didn't have to when Don completed his thought out loud.

"It was like he was losing a brother."

Without responding, Alan turned and began to load the dishwasher. Don stood and walked to the cabinet, removing the plastic wrap from the shelf.

"Charlie will eat when he wakes up, right? Should I just leave this out?"

Alan nodded in silence and for several minutes the only sound in the kitchen was the clanking of glass as Alan slid the plates into the dishwasher trays. Don covered the food and put the plate on the middle of the small kitchen table before he spoke again.

"You don't have to be afraid to say it, Dad. Ethan had become one of Charlie's best friends…..almost like a brother. I understand what you're saying. I do realize that Charlie got closer to Ethan and his family than he might have gotten if I'd been around."

"Yeah, Donnie...he did…initially. But he was determined to be a friend to them. And in the long run, I don't think your presence would have affected that desire in him. But with you not being here, he just………well, that doesn't make this your fault."

Don drew his eyebrows together and shook his head.

"I know that. I know that, Dad. This kind of thing….it's nobody's fault. But…damn….. What are the odds of that happening?"

Shaking his head sadly, Alan turned away from the sink.

"One in Two Hundred Twenty Five Thousand and…….."

Alan waved his hand in the air as he tried to recall the exact number.

"Two Hundred Twenty Five Thousand and Something…….."

The corners of Don's mouth twitched in what almost could have been a smile and Alan shrugged his shoulders.

"You know your brother. He mentioned it a few times. Obsessing over facts and statistics is just his way of dealing. In fact, Megan said……"

Don cut him off.

"Megan said? I guess I should be glad she was around for this. But I just can't believe she didn't call me after what happened. What the hell? Why didn't anyone say anything to me about this?"

Seemingly ignoring Don's question, Alan turned back to the dishes.

"I'm not really sure things would have turned out as well as they did if Megan hadn't been around, Donnie. Don't be to upset with her for not contacting you. You work with an amazing group of people, son. And they did what they could to help your brother. But thank God for Megan."

Nodding in response to his father's statement, Don returned to the table and took his seat. As Alan finished up the dishes, he continued to speak.

"Your brother had always been so…..sheltered. I know he's seen a lot working with you for the past few years, Donnie. But watching someone he cared about die, and the tragedy of losing Becky and Emily as well…..it really threw him for a loop. And on top of that, there was Adam to contend with."

1 Month Ago

The storm was still going strong and the ride to Huntington Memorial was a harrowing one. Alan felt his heart jump to his throat every time a strong gust of wind hit the side of the ambulance ahead of him, causing it to rock precariously. This sensation of fear was only intensified as he felt his own vehicle respond to the same gusts and he had to fight to keep his vehicle in its lane.

Their progress was halted when they came across an eighteen wheeler that had succumbed to the intense winds, and had been tipped over on its side. It was laying kitty corner across the entire road and it took a full ten minutes before they were able to clear a path for the ambulance to get through. Alan had never cared much for hospitals, but when the Emergency entrance of Huntington came into view he thought that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

By the time he got the baby, car seat and all, out of his sedan and to the emergency room entrance, the ambulance that had transported Charlie was long gone. There was no sign of him in the waiting room and Alan assumed that he had already been taken back into the bowels of the ER for treatment.

Alan announced their arrival by setting the car seat down on the top of the reception desk.

The baby was sleeping soundly although his breaths were occasionally broken by the lingering hiccupped sobs that one experiences after a long hard cry. The woman behind the desk lifted the edge of the blanket that covered the car seat, smiled at the sleeping infant and then turned to Alan with sympathetic eyes.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here for my son. Charles Eppes. E, P, P, E, S. He was just brought in."

She answered his inquiry by handing him a clipboard and a stack of admission papers.

After Alan finished filling out the appropriate paperwork, the woman at the desk assured him that someone would be with him shortly and asked him to take a seat in the waiting room. Feeling his old loathing for hospitals returning full force, Alan sat the baby seat down on one of the hard plastic chairs and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

His first instinct was to call Don. He pushed the speed dial for the direct line to Don's office and the phone rang twice before he remembered that his oldest son was not going to be available. Quickly punching the red button to disconnect the call, Alan stared at the keypad on his phone. There was no way to contact Don. Rethinking his strategy, Alan dialed another familiar number.

………………………………………………………………………………………

Megan was halfway down the cobblestone driveway when she stopped to pull her cell phone from its holster.

"Reeves."

Colby opened the door on the black SUV and turned to look at his partner. The wind was whipping her hair around her face and if he hadn't known personally how sturdy the woman truly was, Colby might have been afraid the next gust would blow her away.

Megan's eyebrows had drawn together in concern and as she changed her previously easy stride to a brisk walk, Colby heaved a deep sigh and climbed into the driver's seat.

They had been saddled with a missing persons report early in the afternoon and they were just now leaving the home of the supposed victim's family. As it turned out, the young woman in question wasn't missing at all, but had eloped and her father was hoping his new son-in-law would be picked up on kidnapping charges. It had taken them six hours to 'find' the missing girl and another hour to convince her father that at eighteen, the girl was of legal age to marry whomever she pleased. But the case had resulted in a very long day and both agents were exhausted.

Megan was still on the phone when she climbed into the passenger seat and Colby turned to her looking dismal.

"If that's David, tell him…."

Turning her head quickly, Megan's expression alone told him to shut up and he cut himself off mid-sentence. Putting her hand over the receiver, Megan's spoke in a whisper.

"It's Alan."

Colby furrowed his brow and gave her an inquisitive stare.

"Eppes? Don's dad?"

Megan nodded as she continued to listen to whatever Alan was telling her, replying with the occasional 'uh huh' or 'yeah'. Finally she took a deep breath and glanced at her watch.

"No, Alan. Just sit tight. I'll stop and get Larry….

….Yes, I'm sure he would want to be there too…….."

She lifted her eyes to Colby.

"….No. We can call Amita…"

He nodded in response, although he had no idea what news they were supposed to deliver to CalSci's newest professor.

"….No, Alan. Don't be sorry. I'm glad you called. We needed to know about this. Charlie is one of ours, after all. We take care of our own, Alan…….

….of course. I'll see you shortly."

Ending the call, Megan sat her phone in her lap and clasped her hands together. Colby had started the SUV and he put it in reverse backing out of the long winding driveway at full speed.

"Charlie?"

Megan nodded grimly.

"Yeah. Huntington."

Pulling the vehicle out onto the street, Colby slammed the transmission into drive and hit the gas.

"Do I need to alert Merrick? Are we gonna need to pull Don?"

Shaking her head, Megan rubbed her hands together as if she were trying to warm them.

"No. I don't think so. Alan said he thought the physical injury was minimal."

"What the hell happened?"

"I was hoping you'd grab David and head over to the scene and find out. But first we need to stop by CalSci and find Larry."

………………………………

With Megan's reassurances echoing in his mind, Alan suddenly felt both drained and anxious to get moving. The end result was that he found himself pacing back and forth, consumed with a nervous energy that almost rivaled his youngest.

A stuttering squall from under the blanket that covered the car seat got his attention and Alan lifted the garment away and unbuckled the baby. Adam's cries were soon quieted, but the reprieve was only temporary and after only a few minutes he began to wail in what was obviously a hunger cry. Since Alan had not been able to enter the Burdick's home, he had no bottles or formula in the diaper bag that the fireman had grabbed for him. Hoping that they would get him a bottle from the hospital nursery, he approached the reception desk to explain the situation.

"Eppes?"

The sound of his family name being called out into the busy waiting area diverted him from his mission and Alan made a b-line toward the doctor.

"I'm Alan Eppes. Is Charlie all right?"

Adam continued to wail over his inquiry and the doctor smiled and held out her hand. She was a diminutive woman with shocking red hair, a surprisingly strong grip and a bright and genuine smile.

"I'm Doctor Myra O'Neil, Mister Eppes."

Adam answered her introduction with an insistent scream and the doctor turned her attention to the infant. "My, my...we've had a rough evening haven't we?"

Alan nodded and cradled the baby in his arms.

"I'm afraid he has. And I wasn't able to get a bottle or anything packed for the little guy."

"I think we can take care of that."

The doctor stepped over to the bench and picked up the car seat.

"We'll get some formula for him from the nursery and then we can talk about your son."

Alan followed Dr. O'Neil into the emergency department and as she led him past the nurses station, she called out to one of the women behind the desk to bring a few bottles of formula for the baby. At the end of the hallway there was a small lounge with a tidy kitchenette and she led him inside. Only moments after Alan had gotten himself seated at the small circular table in the center of the room, a young woman in colorful scrubs entered with several miniature bottles of formula.

Once Adam had what he was looking for, he settled quickly to the task of polishing off the small bottle. While Alan fed him the first two ounce bottle, Dr. O'Neil opened and prepared two more and put them on the edge of the table in easy reach for the older man.

"Your grandson is beautiful."

"Oh, he isn't my grandson. Charlie was visiting the baby's parents when…"

Alan stopped mid-sentence as he realized that he had no idea why the Burdick family, with the exception of Adam, were in the car to begin with.

"Charlie, my son, was visiting a friend. Their older child Emily has...had leukemia and wasn't doing well. She must have become ill and needed to go to the hospital. Charlie must have been staying behind to watch over Adam when it happened."

Dr. O'Neil took a seat across from her patient's father.

"So this little guy was orphaned tonight?"

Alan looked confused for a moment and then glared at her suspiciously.

"Yes, he was. But Charlie said that Ethan wanted him to..."

He waved his hand in the air dismissively, then traded out Adam's empty bottle for another.

"The baby will be taken care of. How is my son?"

Dr. O'Neil nodded sympathetically and she moved on to the details of Charlie's injuries.

"He has a fairly large lump on the back of his head, which may have caused a concussion. The EMT that brought him in told me he was injured in a house collapse and that three people were killed."

Alan nodded to confirm her statement and she continued speaking.

"But I can't get any details from Charlie. He won't respond to any of my questions. Right now, he's down in the Radiology department getting a CT scan. Most of the cuts and abrasions on his back, arms and face are superficial and will heal up on their own. He does have a rather deep laceration along his left side that required stitches. I've ordered a chest x-ray just to be on the safe side. But I must be honest with you, Mister Eppes, my biggest concern is the emotional trauma that he has experienced."

Adam released his hold on the bottle and began to play with his fingers and Alan gazed somberly at the orphaned child in his arms.

"Yes. Ethan, the baby's father, died right in front of him."

"Psychological trauma can be just as, if not more serious than physical wounds in a situation like this. Charlie is in a state of severe emotional shock. He's not responding verbally to any questions...and..."

The doctor hesitated and Alan gave her his full attention.

"Not only is he ignoring external stimuli, Mister Eppes, he's indiscriminately muttering……numbers…just random numbers."

Alan raised his eyebrows at her nonchalantly as he lifted the baby over his shoulder to burp him.

"Oh, I doubt very much if they're random."

"You don't seem at all surprised."

She opened the chart in her lap and began writing.

"Has he done this before?"

"Now wait just a damn minute."

When Dr. O'Neil had first introduced herself, Alan had immediately liked her. But now she was making unwarranted assumptions about Charlie's mental state. Feeling very defensive, Alan glared at her.

"My son..."

"...has experienced a physical and emotional trauma, Mister Eppes. He's displaying classic symptoms of severe PTS disorder. I'm going to keep him overnight for observation and I'm also recommending him for a psychological evaluation."

Alan continued to pat the baby gently on the back as he stared at her, flabbergasted, unsure of how to reply. Adam belched loudly as she continued to speak.

"Does the child have any other family members to come get him?"

As he cleaned the spit-up off of the baby's chin, Alan shook his head.

"Not that I know of."

With a sad smile, Dr. O'Neil got to her feet.

"Okay. I'll call social services to come get the baby. We'll keep him here overnight and hopefully get him into a foster home in the morning."

"You'll do no such thing."

Pulling himself to his feet, Alan cradled Adam in his arms protectively.

"Ethan, the baby's father, asked Charlie to take care of him. The Burdicks would never want their son put into the 'system'."

"Mister Eppes..."

As she started to speak, Dr. O'Neil returned to her chair at the table.

"Charlie is in no condition to be the primary care giver to this baby. And with nothing more than an un-witnessed verbal request..."

"There were firemen on the scene...and Charlie lives with me."

He quickly corrected himself.

"I suppose I should say that I live with him. It's his house. I can help with the baby until he recovers from this."

"That's good to hear, Mister Eppes. A very strong support system is one of the things that they look for in foster parents. But I am obligated to call social services and they'll have to sort this out."

Alan knew that she was only doing her job, but now he wished he had allowed her to believe that Adam was Charlie's child. The mere possibility that Adam could be taken from them and thrown into the foster care system made Alan sick to his stomach.

"Do what you must. In the meantime, I'd like to see my son."

His cold tone was not lost on Dr. O'Neil and she regretted causing stress for an already traumatized patient. But she had to consider what was best for the child and she tried to portray that in her expression as she shook her head at the irate man.

"He won't be back from Radiology for at least a half an hour. You can wait here if you like. As soon as they bring him back up, I'll have one of the nurses come and get you."

Alan stood up quickly. Holding the baby with one arm, he scooped up the car seat with the other.

"Thank you, Doctor. But I'd rather wait in the lobby if its all the same to you. I called a few of Charlie's friends and they'll be here shortly. If you'd like to see my son's 'support system' maybe you should meet them. They're like family."

With that, Alan turned to walk from the room and Dr. O'Neil stood and followed him down the hall.

"The ER has a limit of two visitors per patient, but I think we can make an exception in Charlie's case. It might do him good to see a few familiar faces and it'll be a while before we can get him into a room for the night. I'll make sure he is in the treatment room closest to the triage area and furthest away from the main hub of activity in the ER. That way three or four people can visit without causing a traffic issue, but no more than four visitors."

Alan's opinion of Dr. O'Neil went up a notch as he realized that she was making concessions for their unique situation any way that she could. The very idea of handing Adam over to a social worker was deplorable and the possible consequences of such an occurrence weighed heavy on his mind. Given the way Charlie had reacted to handing Adam over to his own father, knowing he had been taken by strangers could potentially throw him into a deep depression and exacerbate the emotional trauma that he had already suffered. Alan had no intention of allowing that to happen.

Dr. O'Neil left him at the door and as Alan walked back out to the reception lounge, he was overjoyed to see Megan, Larry and Amita. As soon as she saw Alan, Megan stood and crossed the room to meet him.

"Alan, how's Charlie?"

"He's having a CT scan and some x-rays right now. The doctor thinks he may have a concussion. But it's not the physical injuries she's worried about."

As Alan began to explain the series of events that had brought them all to the stark white waiting room at Huntington Memorial, the expression on the three faces before him went from relief to horror. When he revealed the conversation with Doctor O'Neil concerning Adam's welfare, Megan sat forward with a worried expression.

"Alan, did anyone hear Ethan ask Charlie to take care of Adam?"

Alan looked down at the child in his arms. He was aware of how complicated and unjust things could get when an agency that existed 'for the benefit of the child' got involved in situations like this. The department of 'Social Services' held just as much of a stigma for him as the FBI once had and Alan couldn't fight off the feeling of dread that Megan's question evoked.

"I don't know if there was anyone else around when Ethan….."

He stopped and sighed.

"If anyone did it would have been one of the firemen that were at the scene."

"Colby and David are heading over there now. I'll tell them to look into that. I also have a friend who might be able to help us. If Adam has no living family then we might be able to make Ethan's dying wish a legal reality. But, Alan, I have to ask you….do you think that is what Charlie wants?"

"I honestly don't know, Megan."

Alan lifted Adam up over his shoulder and began to pat him gently on the back.

"Charlie cares about this baby, that much I do know. And he made a promise to Ethan. He won't take that lightly."

Amita leaned forward and looked inquisitively at the agent.

"What if it turns out that there is family somewhere?"

"In that case the family would have to be contacted."

Megan shook her head.

"Unless the Burdicks have a living will that names a guardian for their children, legally the family would have an innately strong claim to take custody of the baby."

Larry had remained silent, but now he stood and put his hands together in front of his chest in his customary gesture of deep thought.

"What about provisional custody, Megan? Even for an infant, the separation anxiety from losing every caregiver he is familiar with could be phenomenally damaging."

Megan had opened her mouth to reply, but the conversation was halted when the nurse stepped into the waiting area and called for Alan.

Alan rose to his feet and turned to Larry and Amita.

"I don't know how he's going to react to seeing all four of us. But it has to be better than what they've gotten out of him so far….and that's nothing."

The nurse led the group into the ER and down a short corridor to the left of the entry doors. Charlie was sitting up on the bed staring straight ahead, but his eyes were unfocused. He was pale and although the cuts on his arms were bandaged and the scrapes on his face had been cleaned, he looked as if he had been through a war zone. His hair appeared to still be damp in places and where it had dried, the curls had trapped a few stray twigs and leaves from the tree.

Alan stepped forward, but Charlie seemed to take no notice of him. Adam had finally fallen asleep again and Megan took the slumbering burden from Alan's arms so he could give his full attention to his son.

"Charlie?"

When he made no move to indicate that he had heard him, Alan looked back at Megan and the others with real concern etched on his face. He heard Dr. O'Neil's words echo in his mind.

"He's displaying classic symptoms of severe PTS disorder. I'm going to keep him overnight for observation and I'm also recommending him for a psychological evaluation."

Charlie needed to snap out of this now. When the doctor had said he wasn't responding to external stimuli, Alan had no idea how literal the statement had been. Sitting down on the bed that Charlie was in, he took his youngest son by the hand and was shocked at how cold it was.

"Charlie? I need you to look at me, son."

Still getting no response, Alan reached over and took his son's chin, turning his head so that he was looking directly at him.

"Charlie? Can you hear me?"

Again, there was no response and Alan felt a deep seeded fear spread through his chest.

"Charlie, you are starting to scare me. Please, answer me."

The fear that Alan spoke of was evident in his voice and that seemed to penetrate the haze in Charlie's mind. He blinked a couple of times and then his eyes focused on his father's face. Instantaneously, the vacant look in Charlie's eyes was replaced with pain and an unfathomable sadness. Charlie's shoulders started to shake slightly as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Dad?"

Charlie's voice cracked as he spoke and the anguish that was plainly visible on his face cut though all of their hearts. The tears in his eyes escaped and ran in beads down his pale cheeks and suddenly Alan felt compelled to action. Although he hadn't physically embraced his sons in years, he quickly moved up the bed and pulled Charlie into his arms. Charlie's body shuddered as he began to sob heavily into his father's shirt.

Larry stood in the doorway, with both hands covering his mouth and Amita could not suppress her own tears at seeing Charlie in so much pain. Megan moved so that she was in Alan's line of vision and mouthed, "We will be back." Then she silently ushered the others out of the room.

"I don't think Charlie would want us to see him like that."

Amita nodded in agreement and wiped the tears from her eyes. As they turned to walk away from the closed door, a petite red headed woman walked up to them.

"Hello. You must be the 'friends' that Mister Eppes mentioned. I'm Doctor O'Neil."

Megan handed the baby to Amita and held out her hand to the small woman. She was surprised by the firm grip but she didn't let it show.

"Yes, in fact, we are. I'm Special Agent Megan Reeves with the FBI…."

This got the reaction from the woman that Megan had been counting on and she continue with the introductions.

"This is Doctor Ramajuan and Doctor Flienhardt."

At the words 'Special Agent' Dr. O'Neil's eyes had widened, but the introduction of two 'doctors' didn't seem to impress her. She shook their hands politely and turned to let herself into Charlie's room. Stepping forward, Megan put her hand over the door handle.

"We really should give them a few minutes. If you can spare me a little time I would like to discuss the situation with Charlie."

Amita and Larry got the hint and quickly moved off to the reception lounge, leaving Megan and Dr. O'Neil alone in the short hallway. She knew immediately that this woman was going to be a hard nut to crack so Megan moved ahead without giving the doctor an opportunity to say that she really didn't have time to talk.

"I haven't had a chance to evaluate Charlie's emotional state, but Alan had mentioned that you were very concerned."

Dr. O'Neil regarded her suspiciously.

"You haven't evaluated him? I though you said you were with the FBI?"

"Oh, I am…"

Megan pulled out her badge to show it to the doctor.

"I am the psychological analyst for the Los Angeles branch of the bureau. I am also a close personal friend of Doctor Eppes and his family. In fact, Doctor Eppes' brother is my boss."

"Doctor Eppes?"

Megan couldn't stop the smile that was pulling at the corners of her mouth. She was pleased that she was leading this woman so well and she quickly moved in for the kill.

"Yes ma'am. Your patient is Doctor Charles Edward Eppes. He is a professor of applied mathematics at CalSci, as well as a consultant for the FBI, CDC and the NSA. The FBI is looking into the tragedy that took the life of his colleague Ethan Burdick and his family. We are naturally very concerned for the well being of Doctor Eppes, as well as the welfare of Ethan Burdick's surviving son."

Dr. O'Neil stared in awe at the tall woman standing in front of her. Trying to hide her shock at the numerous well placed connections that her patient had, she smiled.

"Agent Reeves, why don't we take a walk down to my office?"

"Certainly."

Megan answered her curtly and smiled to herself as the small woman turned to lead the way.

After a few moments, Charlie managed to get a hold of himself and he pulled away from his father. Just as quickly as the tears had come, they were gone.

"I'm sorry."

Sitting back, Alan searched his son's face for a hint of the emotional outburst that he'd just witnessed. But except for the moisture on his cheeks and the puffiness around his eyes, there was none.

"Why, Charlie? After what you've just been through? You have nothing to be sorry for, you have every right to feel this way."

Charlie hunched forward and wrapped his arms around his own shoulders.

"I just can't get Emily's face out of my mind, or Ethan's. I never really saw Becky, just the…"

He couldn't bring himself to mention the blood that he had seen where Becky's body should have been. Charlie shuddered and he fought back the urge to dissolve into another round of uncontrolled sobbing. Hugging himself even tighter, he shook his head trying to clear the images from his mind.

"They're dead, Dad. I watched Ethan die. He was there and talking to me and then he...he was dead. Just like that."

Charlie's voice was beginning to take on a hysterical pitch that Alan hadn't heard from his youngest son in years and the sudden regression was alarming.

"Dad, I want to go home."

Alan stood up and put his hand on Charlie's trembling shoulder.

"You should lay down, Charlie. Try to get some rest. I'll go talk to the doctor."

Charlie curled up on the bed and clutched a blanket, which had been draped over his legs, tightly to his chest.

"I just want to go home."

Alan could see tears welling up in his eyes again and in an aberrant moment of tenderness, he stepped up to Charlie's side and brushed an unruly cluster of curls off of his forehead.

"Just sleep now, my boy. Just sleep. I'll take care of it."

Stepping out of the room, Alan gently closed the door behind him. Glancing down the corridor he saw Megan and Dr. O'Neil round the corner, heading back in his direction. Alan met them midway down the hall.

"He wants to go home."

"He's talking to you, then?"

"Yes, and he's asked to go home. How were his x-rays?"

"They just brought me the lab report a few minutes ago. Charlie doesn't have any broken ribs, but his CT scan showed some minor intracranial swelling, as well as significant soft tissue swelling along the scalp."

Alan narrowed his eyes at her questioningly.

"What does that mean?"

"It means he has a large bump and a mild concussion. I want to keep him overnight for observation and we still need to get that psychological consultation to assess him for Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome."

Alan turned to glance at Megan. He wanted what was best for Charlie, but something told him they weren't likely to grant custody of a child, much less an infant, to a man with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Megan seemed to understand his concerns without verbal queues and nodded to him. This was not lost on Dr. O'Neil but she misinterpreted the nod to mean something else and stepped up to the older man.

"Mr. Eppes, Agent Reeves has explained to me about Charlie's...unique situation and why she is required to observe the psych evaluation. If you had only mentioned it to me earlier, we could have avoided some of this unpleasantness. I didn't know about your son's…... government affiliations."

Alan raised his eyebrows at her hesitation to describe Charlie's ties to the FBI. He had to force himself to resist asking Dr. O'Neil what she meant by that and he shifted his eyes to Megan as she continued to slowly nod her head, prompting him to choose his words carefully. Whatever the federal agent had said to this doctor, her tone and demeanor when speaking of Charlie had changed completely. Pausing to clear his throat, Alan crossed his arms and glared at her.

"Oh… I see. Do you have children, Doctor O'Neil?"

The question caught the woman off guard and she looked up at him warily.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. But they are still quite young."

"Well, take it from this old man, when your children grow up and go out into the world and find jobs... you will not think of them by what it is they have chosen to do for a living, or by the place they hold in society. You will always see them as your children. Nothing more, nothing less. Whatever else he may be to the world, that man in there is my son...my child...and he is in pain. That is all I care about and I will do whatever is necessary to keep him safe and prevent him from experiencing more pain. Emotional or otherwise."

The thinly veiled threat was not lost, but the genuine concern and love this man displayed for his son seemed to have entranced both women for a moment. Then a door slammed somewhere down the hall and broke the spell.

"We'll see if we can't get our psychologist up here tonight, Mister Eppes. I'm going to re-examine him now and we'll go ahead and get him admitted and moved up to a private room.

"I'll wait in the lounge then. Please let me know when you're finished so that I can be with him."

"Of course."

Dr. O'Neil turned toward the examination room where they had left Charlie, while Alan and Megan headed for the emergency room reception area. They found Larry and Amita sitting together and talking quietly, while Amita rocked the baby gently in her arms. As soon as they saw Alan and Megan, Larry got to his feet.

"How is he?"

"Well, he's pretty banged up and they're going to keep him overnight. I don't think he's up to seeing anyone tonight. But, Larry...Amita...I need a favor from you."

"Of course, Mister Eppes. What can we do?"

Amita set the tone for the conversation by whispering in an attempt not to disturb the baby sleeping in her arms and Alan followed her example.

"I want you two to take Adam home for me. I don't want any social worker coming in here and getting ideas about this little boy. If he isn't here, then they can't get their claws on him."

Amita, Larry and Megan exchanged dubious glances as they marveled at the fierceness in Alan's tone.

Larry touched Megan gently on the arm.
"We won't be putting you in a...difficult position. I mean..."

He hesitated and placed the palms of his hands together in front of his chest.

"We aren't conspiring to commit a felony in the presence of a federal agent, are we?"

Megan smiled sweetly at the concerned physicist.

"No, Larry. I don't think getting this little guy out of here and into a nice warm house qualifies as a kidnapping. You have the FBI's blessing. And I left a message for Robin Brooks. I'm sure she'd be willing to help us out with this. I've already talked to the doctor, so I don't think security will stop you on the way out."

Alan looked at her doubtfully.

"Yes, well...I don't know what you said to the her, but thank you. She didn't seem quite as fired up about calling those vultures down at social services after you got done with her."

Megan couldn't hide the bemused smile on her face. She had never heard Alan speak with such obvious distain for a government organization. Don had told her on more than one occasion that his father had issues with the FBI, but she had never seen it directed at herself or anyone on Don's team. She had even defended Alan when Don made a crack about his father's attitude after the Stirling case. He had jokingly insisted that his father's loathing of the federal government qualified as borderline paranoia. Now she could almost envision exactly what Don had been referring to.

"I simply explained that 'Doctor' Eppes was a consultant for the FBI as well as several other government agencies and we were all deeply concerned about the incident. Although I never said it, she somehow got the impression that Ethan worked for us as well. I told her that due to Charlie's top security clearance, it was mandatory for a government psychologist, namely me, to be present for the psych consult and that the Bureau would be more than willing to share my evaluation with her."

Larry looked fondly at Megan.

"Remind me never to play poker with you."

She smiled in response, but her tone was serious.

"I didn't tell her anything that was untruthful, Larry. We can't have someone with that sort of knowledge being interviewed by an unknown doctor while he's in such a fragile emotional state. Not without someone present representing the interests of the various agencies he's consulted for."

At the mention of Charlie's 'fragile emotional state' the mood became somber again and Alan sat down in one of the hard plastic chairs and looked up at Megan.

"Just how 'fragile' is he, right now?"

Larry shook his head.

"In all of the years that I have known Charles, I've never seen him cry. He tends to present a certain… subtle neurotic quality and yes, he admittedly wears his heart on his sleeve. But I've never seen him truly weep, not openly, Alan...not like that."

Alan turned to the physicist suddenly realizing that Larry knew his son as well, if not better, than he did.

"Larry's right. That's one of the few traits he shares with his brother. They just deal in different ways. But I've never seen him this bad before, Megan. Even when Margaret died...after her funeral, Charlie tried to go back to the garage. But Donnie…..he wouldn't let him. I know he cried then….Don was with him for that. But every time he'd phase out, Don reeled him back in. Then after the incident with those bank robbers a few years back……."

"That's right."

Bringing his head up, Larry rubbed his fingers over his chin in classic Flienhardt fashion.

"I believe they were called The Charm School Boys."

Alan nodded as he continued speaking.

"He withdrew then. It didn't last long, Don really got in his face that time. But I've never seen it go this far. I don't think he even realized that any of you were there."

Amita leaned over the carrier seat, laying Adam gently into it and began to buckle him in. Gathering up the diaper bag, Larry took Amita's keys and headed for the door.

"I'll go get the car."

Alan pulled himself to his feet and draped the blanket back over the handle of the car seat covering the sleeping infant.

"Charlie gets lost in there sometimes…..in his head. I know you may not understand that, Megan. But it's just a part of the way his mind works, it always has been. But Don has always managed to get through to him when he got lost."

No one had to verbalize what Alan was thinking and Megan nodded her head sympathetically. Charlie's near catatonic state when they first stepped into the exam room had deeply disturbed her, but his emotional reaction to his father was a good sign.

"He chose not to keep it all bottled up inside of himself, Alan. An outward expression of grief is the first step toward healing from this kind of extreme emotional trauma. It may take time, but I think he'll snap out of it."

Amita turned to give the behavioral analyst an intent look.

"How much time are we looking at here, Megan?"

Megan gave them both an encouraging smile as she glanced from Amita to Alan.

"I suppose that's really up to Charlie."

………………………………

TBC