Author's Note: Thank ya'll so much for reading! I'm trying to update as fast as I can. I appreciate everyone's feedback. Thank you so much for reviewing! My schedule is going crazy with all this senior stuff and competition!

Special thanks to Bloodsuckers37 for reading and helping me fix the numerous mistakes.

Clue

Chapter VIII- Game Over

12:15 pm UCLA Medical Center

Slowly Charlie cracked his eyes open. Everything that was blurry came into focus. He guessed it to be midday due to the rays of sunlight filtering through the blinds. He turned his head; finding his father fast asleep in the chair next to the bed. Looking around the room he noticed that Don was not there. Panicking, the beeping from the heart monitor quickened, waking Alan.

"Charlie…Charlie what's wrong?" Alan said standing over his son.

"Where," Charlie licked his lips, "Where is Don?"

"He's fine, he's just resting."

"What happened to me?"

"You, my son, are very lucky. You lost a fair amount of blood. The doctor says that you are going to be fine."

Charlie sighed, sinking deeper into the pillow, "How did I get here?"

"David arrived just in time."

Seeing that Charlie was settling down, Alan sat back down. Charlie started to fall back to sleep.

"Above or below the wrist?"

Don held onto the radiator pipe that his other hand was cuffed to, knowing this was going to hurt. Emory raised his knife and brought it down. He saw his brother's face twist in agony before succumbing to the darkness.

"Oh my God!" Charlie sat up.

"What, what's wrong?" Alan asked standing back up.

"Don."

"What about him?"

"His hand?"

"Its still there," Don said walking into the room.

He walked over to Charlie and they hugged for what seemed to be an eternity. Charlie pushed away from his brother and grabbed his hand. He pulled up the sleeve and saw a white bandage wrapped around Don's wrist. Charlie looked up at Don.

"I promise, it didn't come off. I just needed a few stitches."

"I'm going to give you two some time to talk," Alan said leaving the room.

Don went over and sat in the chair. He looked at Charlie for couple of seconds then shifted his gaze to the floor.

"Don, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner," Don looked at Charlie.

"Its okay, you did fine," Charlie grabbed Don's hand that was propped on the bed.

"No I didn't."

"I should have realized that I would have been next. I mean, I'm a professor and the last person was Professor Plum, and I deal with advanced math, it should have been obvious."

"I should have never gotten you involved on this one."

"You can't help it that Emory did what he did," Charlie paused, "What happened after I passed out?"

"Well," Don began…

The knife came down and sliced opened Don's skin. David and the team of SWAT officers busted into the room, all training their weapons on Emory.

"FBI! Freeze! Drop the knife!" David commanded.

Emory looked at David and smiled; he raised the knife and brought it down on Don's wrist again. This time David opened on fire on Emory with the knife inches away from Don. David's bullets hit their target precisely and Emory fell to the ground dead.

"Make sure he's down," David ordered and walked over to his boss. "Here you go," David said as he unlocked the cuffs.

David saw the paramedics come in and someone go to Terry out of the corner of his eye.

"Charlie!" Don got next to his brother who was being attended to by paramedics. "How is he?"

"I don't know for sure," the paramedic said starting an IV.

Terry walked up to Don and put her hand on his back, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Are you okay?"

"Other than my wrist, yeah."

The paramedics put Charlie onto a stretcher and began rolling him out of the room.

"I'll take care of things here, go with him," Terry said.

Don nodded and followed the paramedics out to the awaiting ambulance.

"Sir you cannot come with us," the paramedic said to Don who was climbing into the ambulance.

"I'm his brother," Don got in and sat down next to Charlie.

"Here," the paramedic handed Don some gauze for his wrist.

Don sat there silently after he finished recounting the events that happened after Charlie passed out.

"So Emory is dead?"

"Yeah, he is."

Charlie looked down and fumbled with the blanket.

"You seem disappointed, Charlie."

"He was still one of my students."

"True, but he killed six people."

"Six? There we only five victims."

"Yeah, David Emory also killed Michael Long. The knife that was used to murder Michael Long was the same knife that Emory used."

Don looked down at the ground, not able to face his brother.

7:30 pm 2 Days Later Eppes Residence

Charlie was released earlier that day and was brought home. Since that day in the hospital there was a suffocating tension around the brothers. Don didn't come by see Charlie again over the past few days. Alan noticed this and tried to get his sons together to talk, but could not. Charlie was resting on the couch when the door opened and Don came in.

"Hey," was all Don said to Charlie.

"Hey," Charlie replied sadly.

Don went to the refrigerator and grabbed and ice cold beer. He drank it and went out side and started shooting hoops. Charlie moved to sit at the window.

"What ya watchin'?" Alan asked as he came in from feeding the koi.

"Don."

"What is he doing?"

"Shooting hoops."

"You know, you should go talk to him."

"He feels guilty for what happened."

"I see," Alan went to his desk and got a file off of it, "I had Don bring this over," Alan tossed Charlie the file.

"What is it?" Charlie opened the file.

"David Emory's private file."

Charlie found the 'Counselor Visits' section and began reading. There were many notes about Emory's insecurity over his grades and several prescriptions for anti-depressants.

"When did he get this?" Charlie asked looking amazed.

"I really think you need to talk to your brother," Alan avoided the question.

Alan left Charlie there watching Don. Charlie slowly got up, since everything still hurt, and took the file outside to the basketball hoop that was set up. Don didn't acknowledge Charlie's presence and continued to play.

"Don we need to talk."

"We talked at the hospital," Don shot a free-throw.

"We need to talk again."

"About what?" Don slammed the ball into the hoop.

"What happened."

Don stopped in mid throw and let the ball fall to the ground, "I know what happened, I was late getting there, and he tortured you. I allowed you to get hurt"

"Here," Charlie handed Don Emory's file, "Don you did nothing wrong. I thought at the hospital that I was upset at you, but seeing this shows that Emory was sick, he made you stab me, and that there was nothing you could have done to stop it."

Don flipped through the file and tossed it back to Charlie, "I know all of this, and we already had a copy. This doesn't make me feel any better about what happened. What if I had gotten there sooner, what if I was able to hold off Emory from stabbing you…"

"And what if you had gotten there later? I know that I wouldn't be here talking to you," Charlie went up to Don and grabbed his arms. "Don, I don't blame you for what happened, I'm glad you got there when you did. I'm alive and safe; you did your job as a FBI agent, and as my brother."

Don stood there going over what his brother just said. Charlie grabbed Don and pulled him into a hug.

"Too bad I don't get paid for the last part," Don said with a smile.

Charlie laughed and buried himself further into his brother's shirt.

"How about we go see what Dad made for dinner?" Don pulled away from Charlie.

"Okay," Charlie led the way to the kitchen.

The End

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