Sitting on the sofa within the ground floor lounge, Charlie leans against her brother. His arm tentatively around her as they watch some quiz show about current events and general knowledge. "That would be the Sistine Chapel." Waiting for a moment when they say they correct answer, repeating what she just said. "Told you."

"How could you possibly know that?" Cameron raises a surprised eyebrow. "You took childhood development, not at history."

"Wrong, one semester of art history." She gives him an amused wink, "when I wasn't sure what I wanted to do."

"Feels like you went to school forever."

"Because I did." Charlie smiles ever so slightly, letting it fade after a moment, "If I ask you something, will you be completely honest with me?" She continues to face away from him just staring at the television.

Cameron isn't exactly sure where she's going with this, furrowing his brow, "I can do that, sure."

"What happened to Mitchy Duncan?" The room grows cold and quiet. She's sure if the television wasn't broadcasting white noise, she could have heard a pin drop. When a moment passes and her brother doesn't answer, she tries again, "Cam?"

"What does it matter? He hurt you." He, himself, failed her multiple times now. Cam doesn't want to fail her again. "You're safe, that's all that matters."

"It isn't though. I need to know." Charlie pushed herself up to sit straight, glancing to her brother. "Is he dead?" When she sees him nod ever so slightly, she continues, "Did you kill him?" She notices him not respond, "We can say I killed him...if you did, Cam."

"Let's not worry about it, yeah?" He knows his parents, and Serena, would kill him if he spawned anxiety in the young woman.

"I do worry about it, though. I won't let anything happen to you when it comes to him." The young woman holds her arms, "or ever. You're my brother, and I may be...younger, but...I am also the tougher sibling." Charlie smirks a little, waiting for him to protest, her face falling a little when he does not. "Cam, come on. This is me. You can talk to me. I need to hear these things from you because you and I both know Mum and her girl keep plenty from me as it is."

"I really can't, Char. I promised them I wouldn't and I'm a man of my word." Cameron shakes his head, "I can get us some popcorn or tea though. How about that?"

"What about some rum and a fag?"

"You should really stop smoking."

"And you should really grow a pair." Charlie does not glance to him, knowing her words would be enough, "Scared of his Mum and her girlfriend..."

"Char, please, don't start." Cameron shakes his head, glancing over to her. "If you want to know, maybe ask them."

"They weren't there. You were." The young woman finally glances over, "They would only be repeating stories that you've told them. I'd rather hear it from your lips." Charlie shrugs, "I don't think that's asking too much...to ask what's happened from someone who was somewhere at the same place and same time that I was. Doing it so you have the upper hand?" The sees him shake his head negatively again, "Then what?"

"I said I wouldn't." He makes eye contact with her, "I really can't, Charlotte. Speak with Mum...or Dad. Take your pick." He takes a deep breath, "You're impossible, you know that? I'm telling you that I won't tell you for your own safety. Do you get that the slightest spark of anxiety sends you into an epileptic fit? Why do you keep pushing and pushing, Charlie?" Cameron yells at her, immediately regretting it once he notices the tears in her eyes, "Why do you need to know so badly?"

Charlotte swallows, facing forward again, "I see these bruises on my neck...and on my face. I know they're fresh and couldn't possibly be from my incident before when everything else happened. I've had bruises on my legs and arms that I know were from being pissed the night prior, but...nothing like this. I mean, I can make out finger marks." She gently touches her neck so he knows what she's talking about. "How did he die, Cam?"

"He just did." Cameron shakes his head, "You're not getting anything from me."

Bernie pushes open the door to the home she shares with her girlfriend, hearing her children yelling at one another in the lounge. She stands in the doorway, her hands at her sides, an unamused expression covering her face. "Excuse me." She calls out, not really raising her voice, but it was such a low octave that it would hit both of the other people in the chest. "What the hell is going on?"

Charlie shakes her head, "Absolutely nothing. Everything is fine, Mum." Her arms folded again. She'd get to the bottom of all of this if it was the last thing she ever did. "Mum, weird question, you said that DS Morgan died, correct?" When the blonde nods, she continues, "Do you think I could go and visit his daughter and wife? I mean...I know I don't remember them too well, but...I'd like to offer condolences. Send them something, maybe."

She licks her lips a little, walking closer to her children, the fact that her daughter was blatantly changing the subject not getting past her, "Charlotte, I'm afraid they all perished...all three of them. They would have lost too much blood at the scene really." Bernie reaches a hand over, gently touching her daughter's knee, "I'm so sorry, Charlie."

"She was...she was so young." The younger woman bites her lip, "Damn it." Her voice at a whisper, "They deserved better."

"You're right." Bernie nods, glancing to her son, "Are you staying for dinner?" She glances to him, "And are the two of you going to tell me what you both were arguing about?"

"No, I'll...We can talk about it later." Charlie doesn't look to either of them, still overcome with the thought of the young girl.

Cameron shakes his head a little, "No, I can't stay, Mum. I'm sorry. Thank you for the offer though." The young man stands, gently pressing a kiss against his mother's messy blonde hair. "Love you, Mum." He gives his sister a look over the other woman's head so that his mother doesn't see it, leaving them to their own devices.

The younger woman rolls her eyes, unamused by her brother. "Bloody idiot." She mumbles to herself, glancing away.

"I don't like it when the two of you argue." Bernie shakes her head.

"We weren't arguing, we were just having a disagreement. Now it's over because he left, so...don't worry about it, okay?" Charlotte swallows, "Did um...Megan Morgan...did she go quickly?"

"She didn't survive surgery. Didn't feel a thing."

"Good...I...That's the last thing I would have wanted." The young woman folds her arms, glancing away, "I'm...really tired. Can you help me upstairs-"

"Just nap here. I can help you up after dinner, but I'd rather you stay here." Bernie explains, wanting the young woman to spend some time outside of her quarters. "I can make us some tea and we can go through the takeaway menus. How does that sound?"

Charlotte licks her lips, listening to her mother's words. She needs the woman now, her mere presence reassuring enough for Charlie. "I would like that." The young woman's voice is just above a whisper, full of emotion and even a sense of guilt. A young girl, and her family, lost their lives for no reason whatsoever. Life honestly wasn't fair.