Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews! You guys are awesome.

Any medical mistakes in this chapter are mine, though I did do my research.

Big hugs to my beta lostinwonderland1226. Her help has been invaluable.

Proving Ground

Part 3/6

by Megan

I have long since come to believe that people never mean half of what they say, and that it is best to disregard their talk and judge only their actions.

-Dorothy Day (1897-1980)

Don drove as quickly as he dared in midday traffic. It certainly wouldn't do Charlie any good if he wrapped his car around a telephone pole. The shrill ring of his cell phone grabbed his attention.

"Eppes," he barked into the phone.

With that one word, Terry immediately picked up on the stress in her partner's voice and her instincts went onto high alert. "Don? It's Terry. What's going on?"

"Charlie's on his way to the hospital. He collapsed."

"Oh my god, is he okay?"

"Well I wouldn't know that, would I?" he snapped, but immediately took it back. "Listen Terry, I'm sorry. This was a real shock. I'll call you once I know, all right?"

"Of course."

Once parked, he rushed through the Emergency Room entrance seeking anyone who could point him in the direction of his brother. Spotting an older lady in scrubs at a computer, he hurried over.

"I'm looking for my brother, Charles Eppes. He was just brought in," he stated, impatiently shifting from one foot to another.

"And you are?" She looked at him over the rim of her glasses.

"I'm his brother. Where is he?"

"He's still in the ER, room 1014. He's..."

Don was passed her before she could finish her sentence.

"Sir! You can't go back there!"

He flashed her his badge in response and kept going, frantically searching the doors for a 1014. The further down the hall he went, the busier things got. People moved purposefully from room to room; phones rang, babies cried, and raised voices could be heard filtering through from behind closed doors.

Finally coming across the room, he rushed in without giving much thought to what he might find on the other side.

What he did see took his breath away.

Charlie, his little brother, lay unnaturally still and pale on a sterile hospital bed. He had been stripped of all clothing, and covered with a flimsy sheet drawn up to this waist. There were electrodes stuck to his chest which connected to a heart monitor, an oxygen mask over his face, and various other tubes were sticking out of his body. It was then he noticed he wasn't alone in the room.

A nurse was on the other side of the bed injecting something into the IV. She hadn't been surprised at Don's abrupt entrance after having worked in the ER upwards of fifteen years. She said something about getting the doctor, but Don wasn't paying attention. He couldn't take his eyes off of Charlie.

"Hey, Buddy," he quietly said, moving closer to the bed.

The only noise in the room other than Charlie's breathing was the too rapid beeping of the heart monitor. He was no doctor, but he knew the beeps were coming way too fast.

"'I'm Dr. Harriman. Are you family?"

Don hadn't heard the man approach, which was unusual for him. His FBI training had taught him to be aware of his surroundings and the people in it.

"Yeah, I'm his brother. Don Eppes."

The short, stocky doctor huffed and picked up Charlie's chart. Flipping through it, he sighed before placing it back on the end of the bed.

"Your brother came in with a dangerously high blood pressure and pulse. While they are both still elevated, we're giving him medications to bring them down. Neurological exams are normal, and the ECG indicates the problem isn't cardiac related, which leads me to believe we're dealing with a drug. We're running tox screens and a urinalysis, and the results have yet to come back."

"So, he's going to be all right?"

"I'm not seeing any signs of permanent damage as far as his heart goes, but until I know the drug we're dealing with, it's too soon to say." At Don's less than thrilled expression, he elaborated. "Your brother is going to be unconscious for a while, and the test results will take some time. This normally isn't allowed, but if you'd like to sit with him you can. Just don't get in the way."

"Thank you, Doctor." As the older man turned to leave, Don called out to him, "Is there a phone around here I could use? I need to call my father."

"Try the Nurses' Station around the corner," the doctor said with a sigh before leaving.

Dialing the number automatically, Don called his father. He never imagined he'd have to call his father under these circumstances. By the fifth ring, his father still hadn't answered. Don gripped the phone tighter. What if something had happened? What if he had fainted on the stairs?

The stream of 'what ifs' quickly ended when his dad, managing to sound weary and anxious at the same time, picked up the phone. "Don? How's Charlie." Alan's voice was hoarse.

Don didn't know how much to reveal to his dad. Being sick, the last thing Alan needed was the extra stress of dealing with Charlie and possible drug use. No. Not drug use. Charlie would never do that, he mentally berated himself. "They're running tests right now. It's going to take some time before they know exactly what's wrong."

"But he's going to be okay." It was a statement more than a question.

"The doctor isn't committing to it-"

Alan cut him off. "They never do."

"Yeah, right. The doctor isn't committing to it, but it looks like Charlie will be fine."

Alan's relief was palpable. Even over the phone.

"Listen, Dad. The nurses need the phone. I'm going to sit with Charlie. I'll call when the results are back."

"Make sure you do."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Don sat beside Charlie's bed, watching the minutes tick by. Each torturous click of the second hand brought him seconds closer to finding out what had happened to Charlie. Did he want to know? What had his younger brother been up to these past few days? He couldn't accept that Charlie had been using drugs, despite the fact all the evidence currently indicated it.

Reaching out, Don took Charlie's hand in his. The skin was cool to the touch, his palms clammy. The constant beeping of the heart monitor had started to slow. Charlie's pulse was still too fast, but not dangerously so.

Taking a minute to really study his brother, Don couldn't believe how bad Charlie looked now that he wasn't covered in chalk dust. His dark hair was more unruly than usual, and accentuated the pale skin of his face. The dark smudges under his eyes gave them a sunken appearance, and an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose covered most of the stubble on his face.

Don's eyes traced down Charlie's chest, pausing on the electrodes that monitored his heart, and then continued down to his waist. Dad was right. Judging by the concave appearance of his brother's stomach, it was obvious he hadn't been eating. How could Charlie have deteriorated so fast? What the hell was happening?

A small groan caused Don to snap his eyes back up to Charlie's face.

"Charlie? Can you hear me, Buddy?" He gripped his brother's hand tighter as he spoke.

"Don?" The voice was barely audible due to the oxygen mask, but it was the best thing Don had ever heard. "..wt...happnd?"

"I was hoping you could tell me, Buddy. How are you feeling?"

Charlie's eyes slipped closed. "..m..tired."

"Ah, it's good to see you're awake," the doctor exclaimed louder than necessary as he swept into the room, papers in hand.

Eyes snapping open, Charlie glanced at the doctor.

"The results of the tox screen have come back positive for phenelzine, an antidepressant. The levels of the drug weren't high enough to be toxic, which is good because that might have killed you, but were still high enough to cause a severe adverse reaction. We've given you drugs to lower your heart rate, and fluids for an electrolyte imbalance. We're also going to be pushing fluids to try and flush the drug out of your system. Can you tell me why you took so much of the medication?" the doctor asked as he went to replace the oxygen mask with a nasal cannula.

Don quickly snapped his jaw closed, which had dropped open at the mention of 'antidepressant'. Sure, Charlie would go through bouts of depression, but Don had never thought it bad enough that he'd actually need medication. "Charlie, when did you start taking antidepressants?"

"I haven't," Charlie quietly answered, as confused as everyone else. "I'm not taking any prescribed medications."

"Well then how... are you sure about the test results, Doctor?" Don asked, mind kicking into gear. As an FBI agent, Don didn't like the scenarios that were popping unbidden into his mind.

"Of course."

"Tell me more about the drug."

"Well, phenelzine, commonly called Nardil, is prescribed for depression when other drugs have failed. Because of this drugs mode of action, each person is affected differently by it, and it can be unpredictable. Nardil works by increasing the amount of epinephrine, norepinephrine, serotonin and dopamine in the central nervous system. There is no shortage of side effects with this drug. The most common ones are dizziness, anorexia, insomnia, anemia, mania, hyper or hypotension, anxiety, tremors and dysrhythmias to name a few. In severe cases, someone might suffer from a hypertensive crisis, which if left untreated, is fatal."

"Sounds about right," Charlie mumbled.

"Hypertensive meaning..." Don prodded.

"High blood pressure. The drug also interacts negatively with a number of foods and other drugs. Now, since the levels in your blood weren't toxic, I'm going to keep you for a few more hours for observation, then you'll be free to go home as long as someone stays with you," the doctor addressed to Charlie.

"If the levels weren't toxic, why was he so sick?" Don asked, horrified at what this drug could have done to his little brother.

"Normally, when a patient is started on this drug, they start on a low dose. The dosage is then titrated, or gradually increased, up to a therapeutic level. It looks like your brother got a fairly high dose immediately. Because this drug has a cumulative effect, it would have taken a few days for him to get as sick as he was this afternoon."

"So, what. You're saying Charlie has ingested multiple doses of this drug?" Don asked, shocked.

"Most definitely. For someone being treated with this drug, therapeutic effects aren't noticeable until one to four weeks after commencing treatment. Therefore, for your brother to have this type of reaction, he'd need more than one dose."

"How is phenelzine normally taken?" asked Don.

"By mouth. Always," the doctor responded.

"Doctor, I'm going to need copies of the lab results and Charlie's chart before he's released."

After the doctor left, Don turned back to his brother who was struggling to keep his eyes open. He clasped his hand again to get his attention. Despite the disturbing news, Charlie didn't look as shook up as Don expected him to.

"Charlie? Tell me what's going on. Do you know who might have done this?"

"Don. I'm not sure, but it might have been one of my students. You have to promise not to get him into too much trouble. He's got a bad..."

Don couldn't believe what he was hearing. A student might have tried to kill Charlie and all Charlie is concerned about is whether or not the student will get into serious trouble?

"Charlie! Tell me what's going on."

"His name's Tony Rossey. I had an argument with him last Friday about a mark I gave him on an assignment. He was quite... forceful about it." Charlie proceeded to tell Don the whole story.

"Tony Rossey," Don mumbled as he wrote down the name. "This drug has to be taken orally. Has someone given you any food? Did you consume anything that wasn't in your sight at all times?"

Charlie thought about it for a minute. "I don't know. I haven't really eaten much and I don't remember much of the past few days."

"Think, Charlie. This would have to be a food item Tony could access easily. Something he knew you'd consume."

Suddenly, Charlie remembered something. "Tea. I drink tea everyday. One during morning class, and another after lunch. I don't usually keep the tea with me all the time. I'm usually running back and forth between the classroom and my office before class starts, so I leave it sitting on my desk. My god, Don. You don't really think he..."

"I don't know, Charlie, but I am going to find out. Was Tony in class each day this week?"

"I don't teach Tony's class everyday. Just Mondays and Fridays."

Don frowned. "Could Tony still have had access to your classroom or office?"

"Yeah. I don't lock the classroom or office if I'm just running to grab something and don't expect to be gone long. What are you going to do?"

"First, I have to call Dad and give him an update, and then I'm going to go to the office to run Tony's name and see what pops up."

"Oh no, Dad!" Charlie exclaimed, trying to sit up. "He was sick and I left him alone! I don't remember speaking to him in days! I have to see if he's all right."

Don immediately grabbed Charlie's shoulders and pushed him back down. "Dad's fine, Charlie. He's got the flu or something and is home resting. He's the one that called me about you. Now stay here and I'll be back, okay?"

"Tell Dad I'm sorry."

Don nodded. "I will."

After Don left, Charlie slumped against the mattress and tightly closed his eyes as memories from the past week pushed themselves to the surface as his mind cleared. In his mind's eye, he could clearly see his dad as he told him he was sick last weekend, and asking him if he was okay at the start of the week. Then there was nothing. It was like he had forgotten his father was in the house.

Another memory, one he could have lived without, also came up. He could see Don's angry face as though he were actually right in front of him, and hear his angry voice. The only serious family emergency that comes to mind is the fact I allowed you back into my life!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Hey, Don!" David's excited voice called as he trotted over to Don's desk. "I got something on Tony Rossey. You're never going to believe this."

David watched as Don's eyes scanned the paper, widening towards the end. "Alphonse Rossey! Tony is Alphonse Rossey's son?"

"Who?" Terry piped up.

"Alphonse Rossey has been linked with the Italian mafia. Don investigated him last year for extortion, but couldn't get a conviction due to a lack of evidence."

"And this SOB's son is one of Charlie's students. Wow. That would explain Tony's aggressive nature, having grown up in a family like that. Do you think Charlie had any idea?" Terry asked.

"I doubt it. Terry, I want you to see if you can track down Tony. I'm going to see if Charlie is ready to come home."

Don's gut tightened as he left the office. All his instincts were screaming at him that this would get worse before it got better.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Stealth Dragon: No worries, this story is complete. I agree that too many stories are left unfinished, and it bugs me too.

Patty: That would make for an interesting plot bunny!

Mary: I love your enthusiasm. I can tell you without spoiling anything that Charlie will not be a drug addict.

Thanks again everyone. I'm glad I've made Tony such a despicable character, and your reviews help me revise future chapters so they'll be better.