Disclaimer: Do you really think I would be calling this fanfiction if I owned this? Nope, it would be called original fiction, and on the tube.
Author's Note: Can I just take a moment to thank all my reviewers and say how wonderful you made me feel this week? Also, for the questions on if Don and Charlie would actually be considered suspects, two things: One, my dad's friend is a retired police officer, and he said that, under the circumstances, they would be suspects. You know, a wrong-place-wrong-time sort of thing. Two, hopefully I clear up some questions from the first chapter with this chapter…or maybe I just added to the confusion. And, last but not least, I'm looking for a beta for this story. It would be much appreciated if you would beta for me.
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Don was flopped on the couch at the house, about to finish his second beer for the night. Knowing he would have a hangover in the morning at the rate he was drinking, Don finished the bottle and stood up to get another one. Floods of memories came back, mixing with each other.
"We've figured out the profile of the kidnapper…""Witnesses say two people kidnapped Miss Broker. One was about six feet tall, the other was about five-foot-eight…"
"The suspect is very determined to succeed. He continues to work, especially when others believe he cannot solve a problem…"
"The kidnappers were wearing all black, including face masks, so it was impossible to identify them. They can be almost anyone…"
"And if this follows the kidnappings that have been happening lately, a charge of murder is added to the deal as well…"
"Don? You do know what this means, right?"
"What it means, Charlie, is-It means that we are both suspects for kidnapping."
Don shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He twisted the cap off the bottle of beer he didn't even remember getting out of the refrigerator. Lying back down on the couch, Don tried to organize the information he knew about the case. He was not allowed to work on the case itself, now that he was a suspect, but he still wanted to find something he could say to prove his innocence, or (in his mind) more importantly, Charlie's.
"The longer he is suspected of kidnapping his student, the worse trouble he would be in with the rest of the students and with the administration." Once Don was cleared, the episode would blow over and nobody would judge him anymore. That was the nature of his job. Charlie's credibility could be hurt forever. It didn't take a rocket scientist or a mathematical genius to know that the longer Charlie was a suspect was directly proportional to how long it would take for the experience to blow over for him.
Taking a drink, Don tried to concentrate on the profile of the kidnapper. Megan said he was going to be determined to prove his value and his abilities, although sometimes he doubted his own abilities when something does not work for him. He also works better alone, and when he did need help, he wanted to be in control. "That sounds a lot like us; stubborn and determined."
Getting nowhere with the profile, Don turned to what he had heard of the eyewitness accounts. Two men, one about six-feet tall, the other about five-foot-eight. "No help. I'm an inch taller than the first man, and Charlie's exactly five-foot-eight. Once again, the description matches with us."
Frustrated, Don stood up, took another large swallow of beer, and headed towards the garage. He knew Charlie would be working on some sort of math; math seemed to be one of the few things he was happy doing, one of the few things that could get his mind off of his problems. Don's only worry was that he was working on an algorithm or some other equation relating to the case. He wouldn't really appreciate any more problems with the case, and working on solving the case when he was a suspect would be considered a problem.
"Charlie?" he called, opening the door. He was rather surprised when Charlie responded on his first try.
"Ah, Don, I was hoping you were going to come in. I want to show you something."
"Oh no," Don thought. That sounded like he had, in fact, been working on something related to the case. "Hey, Charlie. No offense, but I don't want to hear it if it relates to the case, okay? We can get into trouble if the other agents find out you have been solving it without permission. My job is worth more than that, and I know yours is too."
" I haven't been solving the case, I've just been working with an algorithm that proves we didn't kidnap Stephanie. Besides, this isn't just for you and me. The faster we prove our innocence, the faster I can start figuring out who might have been the real kidnappers or where they may have taken her or any of the other students." Charlie looked somewhat upset that Don didn't want to listen to his reasoning.
"No, Charlie. I'd rather be safe than sorry. You can bring this up at the interview tomorrow if you wish, but I don't want to be a part of this." Don turned around and was about to leave the garage when Charlie pulled him back.
"Don, listen to me. This may be our only chance to prove our innocence. Besides, anyone can see that these equations are not related to solving the case, just proving that we didn't do anything." Charlie seemed to be persistent-no, pleading-with him to listen. Sighing, Don turned around to try and explain again how much trouble the two of them would be in.
"I hate to tell you this, but not just anyone can see what those equations really mean." There was a pause, and then, "You know, Buddy, we might do better if you spent more time working on what you are going to say tomorrow rather than a math problem that could be seen as you trying to solve the case on your own."
Don couldn't remember a time that he felt more sorry for his brother. The sad, hurt look in his eyes showed quite plainly that he would rather be doing math at this point than thinking about what he was going to say the next day. "Or, if you can't concentrate on that, work on P versus NP or something. Just…don't work on the case, okay?" Before he could receive a response, Don polished off his beer and headed back into the house.
Don couldn't believe the reaction Charlie was having to Stephanie's kidnapping. Normally in a situation like this, Charlie would become oblivious to the world, and resort to his P versus NP. Instead, he was waiting for Don to come out of his own mental hiding spot, and was trying to solve a reasonable problem. Was his brother worried? Scared? Anxious? All three of these? "If we are convicted, I'm going to take all the blame for it. There's no way I would be able to stand knowing Charlie was convicted as an innocent man," Don thought sternly. Knowing that Charlie would be considered innocent by the law eventually made the grey area just a little easier to bear.
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Don sat in the chair the next day, unmoving, unfeeling. He knew that Megan would be coming in to the interrogation room soon, but right now, he could feel their eyes staring at him through the glass, the glass that he could only stare right back at himself in. But right now, he wasn't looking at the glass. He was staring at his clenched hands, woven together on the table. Although he knew the time was coming to give his statement, it didn't make him any more ready for what was to come.
He thought of Charlie, who was in the conference room, waiting for his turn in the interrogation room. He could imagine him pacing about, thinking deeply about the equations that would "prove" his innocence. Or he could be sitting in there, just as Don was, thinking about what was about to come.
The door opened, disturbing him from his thoughts, but still Don didn't react. He didn't look up to see Megan's face, to look in her eyes. She knew it had to be almost as hard for her as it was for him to do the interrogation. But it didn't make him feel any better. In fact, he felt that much worse about it.
"Don?" she asked cautiously, just like she did the day before. "Are you ready to do this, or do you want a few more minutes?"
"I just want this to be over, more than anything else. So we may as well get started." Don's hands moved onto his lap, but he continued to look at where they were a moment before. Don could only imagine David analyzing every move he made, everything he said. He couldn't bear to let him stare him in the face, especially when he himself wasn't allowed to stare back.
Don noticed that she chose to sit next to him, rather than across the table from him. The 'pity' trick, he recognized. That didn't help him much, though; he didn't want her pity, he wanted for the whole mess to be over with. "Okay. Where were you yesterday at four in the afternoon?"
"I was with Charlie. His class had just finished, so I was going to go over the developments in the case with him. That's when Miss Broker showed up to talk to him…" Don continued to tell the rest of the story, all of the information that had happened in those ten minutes. When he finished, there was brief pause, in which Don gathered himself together again, waiting for the next question.
"Can you explain why people saw people who looked like you and Charlie when Stephanie was kidnapped?"
"No. All I can say is that they weren't Charlie and me. We were heading out of the front entrance at about the same time as her disappearance. We were already outside when I got your call."
Megan asked a few more questions of Don, and he answered them with as much description as he could put in. All the while, Don never moved from his position at the table. Finally (must have been about fifteen minutes, Don guessed), Megan ended the interview with a somewhat personal question.
"Don? Are you dealing with this okay?"
Don felt Megan hold his shoulder. It was only a friendly gesture, but it was all he needed. Trying to stop the tears that were bound to fall eventually, Don finally looked up and met her eyes. They had worry in them, similar to his father's when Charlie hadn't eaten or rested for days because of his math. It also looked like she hadn't slept at all the night before.
"You should know that the team has been doing everything we can to get you out of this situation. You and Charlie. The only reason you two are the top two suspects is because we have no other suspects. Nobody believes that you would really do something like this."
Don nodded. "Do you want to know the worst part of this entire ordeal?" His voice hitched, and he cleared his throat to try to hide it. "Knowing that Charlie is in the same situation. Knowing that there is nothing I can do as his older brother to protect him from this."