A/N: I may change this chapter later. I haven't decided. I thought I would put this up and see what people thought. I might wind up removing it altogether. We'll see. Opinions, please.

Chapter 6:

"You're what?"

Charlie looked up sharply from the papers he was grading. As much as he enjoyed seeing more of his brother in the past few days, the tension between Don and his father was once again building to intolerable levels. Sighing, he slowly put down his pen and listened to the words that drifted from the kitchen.

"What's the big deal?" Don asked. Charlie could picture his brother standing, arms bent and palms up, shrugging at his father's outburst. "I told you about this weeks ago," he continued. "You didn't like the idea of Recovery, and you're against this." There was a heavy pause. "What do you want from me?"

Alan Eppes burst through the swinging door into the dining room. "What's wrong with where you were?" he asked as he strode angrily into the living room, his older son at his heels. "I thought you were happy there." He cast a sideways glance at Charlie before dropping into an armchair. "We thought you were happy there," he amended.

Don looked at Charlie. " 'We'?" he asked. Before Charlie could reply, Alan cut in. "Yes. Your brother and I were under the impression that you had finally settled down into a stable position." Don's expression changed. Where before he had looked almost wounded, now there was nothing. He regarded Charlie stonily. "You think you know what I should be doing with my life?" he asked in a low tone. Charlie shook his head quickly. Don turned to their father. "Do you?" he repeated. Alan stared at him mutely, his anger dissipating in the wake of his eldest son's icy glare. Don suddenly turned and walked to the front door, snatching his jacket from its hook as he passed. Charlie spoke up. "Where are you going?"

Don paused with one hand on the knob. Glancing at his father he replied, "For a walk." He gave Charlie a meaningful look before opening the door. Charlie jumped up from the couch. "Alright if I go with you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess."

He looked at Alan, but the eldest Eppes had picked up a newspaper and was noisily turning pages. Grabbing his own jacket off of the peg, Charlie followed his brother out the door. Once the door was firmly closed between them and their father, Charlie asked, "What was that all about?"

"Ah," Don growled, starting off at a brisk pace. "Nothing I do is good enough."

Charlie jogged to keep up. "You're talking to me here," he said. "What was all that really about?"

-x-x-x-x-x-

Alan watched as his sons made their way down the street, Charlie half trotting to keep up with Don's longer, angrier stride. He hoped Don would have the presence of mind to keep this latest brainchild of his to himself. He knew, once Charlie got wind of it, he'd jump right in with both feet.

As Don glanced back over his shoulder, Alan lifted his chin in acknowledgement. Don saw and quickly averted his eyes, choosing instead to focus on his brother's face as he shortened his stride. He knew. He knew and – more importantly – he understood. Charlie had to be kept out of this. For his own protection.

Turning from the window, Alan walked back to his chair and sat down. He picked up the discarded newspaper and began to read.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"You're overreacting." Colby dropped a handful of files onto his desk and shook his head. Megan and David exchanged looks. "There's probably a very good reason for it."

"Granger," Megan said. "What good reason would Don have for hooking up with the likes of McKesson and Travers? They're both dirty as hell…"

"That was never proven," Colby interrupted loudly. David put in, "Keep your voice down!" The three agents unconsciously stepped closer together. Lowering his tone, Colby repeated, "That was never proven. Insubstantial evidence."

"Yeah, right," Megan shot back sarcastically. "And Don was the investigator, and he's also the one that was suspended for evidence tampering."

"Suspicion of," David corrected.

Agent Reeves waved her hand at him. "Whatever. The point is: it all fits together."

Colby shook his head again. "How, Megan?"

"I don't know – yet." Megan folded her arms. "But I'm going to do my damnedest to find out."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Wandering through the park at night had a relaxing effect on Special Agent Eppes. He hadn't responded to his brother's question, although he had given it a lot of thought while they walked. Seeing his father standing at the window, and noting the worried expression, Don considered any number of responses, discarding one after the other. He still hadn't decided on a satisfactory answer by the time they reached the wooden bench by the duck pond. "Let's sit here for a while," he suggested. They each took a spot at opposite ends and stretched out, leaning their heads back to look at the stars. After several minutes of contemplative silence, Charlie spoke softly.

"Are you ever going to tell me what's really going on?"

Don smiled slightly. Charlie had as good as told him he knew there was something he wasn't being told. Remembering his father's expression wiped the smile away as effectively as if he'd been doused with cold water, and he remained silent.

Charlie turned his head to watch his brother's profile in the moonlight. They were sufficiently deep enough into the park for it to be the primary source of illumination. He noted the disappearance of the smile but chose not to remark on it, instead studying the angle of his cheekbones, the almost-perfectly straight nose and the dark, glittering eyes. He looks so… sad he thought. He wondered if his earlier perception of fear was correct. Don was never afraid. At least not to the degree Charlie thought he had detected. If anything, Don became the epitome of cold professionalism under duress. He turned his gaze back to the night sky as he pursued this train of thought. Don only seemed frightened when Charlie stated his intention to find out what had happened. So he's worried about me. That was a sobering thought. Even after proving himself time and again, and Don's assurances that he considered Charlie an equal, Don still sought to protect him from harm.

Don could sense the growing tension in his brother's small frame. He realized at that point that Charlie had come to a conclusion. And that's the end of him, he thought wryly, remembering the old joke. Not a laughing matter, surely. He felt – rather than saw – Charlie open his mouth to speak.

"It's not that," he said, forestalling Charlie's comment. His brother's jaw snapped shut as he continued. "I said I wouldn't treat you like a kid anymore, and I meant it. It's not that." He paused. "Despite your brains and your clearance, Charlie, there are some things you can't – or shouldn't – stick your highly intelligent IQ into."

Charlie was quiet for several seconds. Finally he whispered, "What are you scared of?"

"In general?" Don asked, knowing that wasn't what he meant. When Charlie didn't respond, he chuckled softly but without humor. "I'm scared of…" He trailed off, unsure of how to put it into words without offending Charlie. He sighed instead. "What do you think is going on, Charlie?" he asked.

"Whatever it is," came the soft reply. "It's not what it seems to be."