Alan frowned as Don started shivering in his arms. He felt his forehead which was almost cold to the touch and frowned at the bluish tint to his lips. "Donny?"

Don mumbled unintelligibly as his head lolled against his father's shoulder.

"Donny?" Alan repeated with a sense of urgency. "Open your eyes for me, son." Don remained unresponsive, despite his father's numerous attempts to rouse him. "Chris!"

The young man poked his head in the door. "What's wrong?"

"I think he's taking a turn for the worse. We've got to get him help."

"No can do until I get what I want," Chris said ruefully. "You know that."

"He's going to die," Alan whispered pleadingly. "You don't want that, do you? Would Gerald want that?"

"He'd understand what I'm doing," Chris replied. He stood over the two men and frowned at the Fed's pale complexion. "Tell you what, let's move you two into the store so you won't have as far to go when the time comes."

Chris grabbed Don's legs while Alan grabbed him under his arms. Together the two men lifted the injured agent and awkwardly shuffled into the store, settling Don right in front of the window. Alan sank to the floor behind him and cradled Don in his lap. "Hang on, Donny," he whispered. "It won't be long now."

--

Don's team let out a collective gasp as they got their first glimpse of their boss. He lay in Alan's arms, his skin practically translucent. The look of anguish on Alan's face did nothing to reassure them, either.

"Get on your phone and pretend you're talking to someone," Megan whispered to Colby. "We need to make Morrison think that we've found out about Gerald, too."

"Don't bother," the sheriff interrupted her as he wearily climbed out of his car. "I'll tell you all about that."

Megan raised an eyebrow. "You will?"

"We've got a few minutes before the cameras get here and I go inside. I might as well make sure an FBI agent knows the real story."

"Go on," Megan urged him.

"My wife's death – that wasn't an accident. You were right about that. But you've got the wrong killer. It was Gerald that did it."

"A ten year old committed murder?" Megan's tone was doubtful.

"I was hard on the boys," Morrison reluctantly said. "Abusive at times. She knew about it and never once did she try to stop me. One day I started hitting Chris right in front of her while she cooked dinner. She was ignoring his cries for help and then Gerald walked in. He wasn't strong enough to get me to stop, so he grabbed my gun from the table and threatened to kill his mother if I didn't stop. I was drunk and full of hate, so I told him go right ahead. She told him to stop being stupid and put down the gun. He shot at her and missed high, right into the ceiling. Scared the crap out of her and she ran into the living room. He followed her and just as I was finishing up with Chris, I heard him fire again followed by her scream. I rushed in there but she was already dying. Wasn't just the gunshot that was affecting her, either. She'd hit her throat on the edge of the coffee table when she fell, and was having a hard time breathing. I made Chris go to his room, locked him in there, and made Gerald help me clean up. We moved her body and cleaned the carpet, and I staged the scene in the kitchen. Probably the kindest thing I ever did for either of my sons – covering that little incident up."

"Yeah, generous to a fault," Colby said sarcastically.

Morrison ignored him as he continued. "The hunting accident wasn't an accident, either. It was self-defense on my part. Gerald was eighteen years old, and had just graduated high school. We went hunting to have some man to man bonding time, although both of us knew that wasn't likely to happen. I left Chris at one of his friend's houses and me and Gerald drove out into the woods. That's when he told me that he was going to take Chris away from me. Said he'd tell the courts what I had been doing to them for all those years and they would gladly grant custody to him. I threatened to tell the police the truth about his mother's death. That set him off. I guess he was afraid if he went to jail, he wouldn't be able to protect Chris from me any more. Anyway, he came at me with a knife. We struggled and I finally had to shoot him to save myself."

Megan knew there had been no signs of a struggle in the woods near the body, and she could tell that Morrison was lying about what happened that day, although she did believe his story about Gerald shooting his mother. She decided to play along, as long as it would get Morrison to go in there and get Rutherford to free her friends. She nodded in understanding and placed a hand on the sheriff's shoulder. "You're a brave man to do this, Sheriff Morrison." Megan looked up as another SUV pulled into the lot, loaded with her camera setup.

She gestured to Colby and David to get the live feed monitor set up while she dialed Chris' cell. "They're here," she told him when he answered.

"Not a moment too soon," he said. "The Fed's looking pretty bad."

"So your father's coming in and I'm bringing the camera."

"I said no agents."

"No," she argued. "You said you weren't going to let two agents in. I'm only one, so it's going to be me and your father. That's the best deal that you're going to get."

"Whatever," he said casually. "Just don't try anything."

"I won't," Megan promised as she flipped her phone shut. She glanced at her two coworkers who mouthed 'five more minutes'. She nodded and stood next to Morrison. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he whispered fearfully.

--

Alan's spirits lifted as he watched Megan approach the store with the sheriff by her side. "That's your father?" he asked in shock.

"Yes," Chris nodded. "Left all his problems behind to go solve someone else's. Hell of a guy, ain't he?"

"You deserve better," Alan stated with conviction. "You and Gerald both deserved better."

Chris smiled. "You know, I never did ask your name. Pretty soon you'll be leaving me and I'd like the honor of knowing it."

"Alan Eppes."

"Well, Mister Alan Eppes, you make sure your boys never forget what a great father they have."

"As if I don't remind them of that enough," he joked sadly.

Megan stood in front of the door, her focus on Chris. "Are you going to let us in?"

Rutherford pressed a button on his remote and beckoned her and his father inside. "Hello, Dad. Happy to see me?"

"Let's not mess around," he snapped. "I'm here like you asked, so let those men go."

"Yes," Chris smiled. "We could use some alone time." He gestured at Megan. "Help Mister Eppes carry his son out of here, please."

She was immediately at Don's side, placing a hand on Alan's shoulder as she knelt beside them. "How is he?"

"Not good," Alan answered. "He needs help soon."

"You grab his right arm and I'll get his left, and we'll get him out of here."

"Donny!" Alan called as he lightly slapped his cheek. His son groaned in response, but his eyes remained closed. "You have to try and move your feet, okay? We're going to get you out of here and get you some help. Do you hear me, Don?"

While Alan tried to rouse his son, Megan looked at Chris. "May I please have the ambulance come right up to the door?"

"Tell them to stay back by the gas pumps," he told her.

"Thank you." She radioed her order and watched as the ambulance sped to the requested location. She looked down at Don, surprised to see his eyes open and looking at her, though they lacked any sign of recognition. "How're you feeling, Don?" she asked softly as she placed his arm over her shoulder.

His dull gaze stayed on her face and the faintest of whispers issued forth from his mouth. "Hurts."

"We'll have that taken care of in no time," she promised as she gently rubbed his arm. "Just hold on." She nodded at Alan and together they lifted Don to stand between them. He let out a moan of pain, but did move his feet in a clumsy attempt at walking. Her anxiety started to lessen as they moved further and further away from the store.

When they reached the ambulance, the paramedics already had the stretcher ready and waiting. She and Alan lowered Don onto it while one of the medics lifted Don's feet up, careful not to aggravate the gunshot wound. They strapped him down and loaded him into the back. Megan gently pushed Alan inside. "We'll be there as soon as we can," she promised him. To the medics, she added, "Take good care of him, guys."

--

Chris watched as the ambulance sped away, truly wishing the best for Alan and his son. His eyes followed Agent Reeves as she disappeared back to the group of squad cars before he turned to face his father.

"Well," he said, staring at the older, worn down version of his childhood nightmare. "I'm surprised you came. You knew what I wanted."

"Yeah, I did," Morrison admitted. "As soon as you offered to 'compromise'. The FBI woman – she said that if we gave you what you asked, you wouldn't kill anyone."

Chris shrugged. "She was mostly right."

"Yeah… I guess so. Mind if I call her? I want to let her know, so she can leave this with a clear conscience."

"It amazes me that you actually have a good thought every once in a while," Chris laughed. "You were always such a creep when I was a kid."

"I did have my problems, but that was no reason to take them out on you." He met his son's eyes. "I want you to know that I really am sorry about that."

"Duly noted," the young blond sighed. "Better make that call."

"You did rig it…"

"My calculations are always good," he snapped. "It won't even be that big really – just big enough."

"Alright then." Morrison dialed Megan's cell. "Agent Reeves," he answered as he watched Chris' thumb hovering over a button on the remote. "Just wanted to let you know..." The younger man's thumb was on the button now. "It's not your fault." The muscles in the bomber's arm began to tighten. "I knew this would happen."

"What are you talking-" Those were the last words Sheriff Morrison ever heard, before a loud roaring sound carried him and his son away to eternity.

TBC