A/N - Hello everyone. Well we had a healthy baby boy Tuesday October 18th. It has been a long week and many sleepless nights. Baby and mom are doing well and I am trying to fit in the writing in between his naps and mine :-)
I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thank you for all the reviews. It is very much appreciated.

Chapter Two

Suddenly Charlie felt himself being shaken by strong hands on his upper arms. "Charlie! Charlie!"

He opened his eyes and looked into his father's worried face.

Charlie just stared into his father's eyes, confused by his presence. David had just been standing there. It was David who had come to tell him that his big brother…
…that Don was gone. The panic surged up in him again and his sweat covered body shook convulsively as fresh tears welled up and spilled down his pale cheeks.

"He's gone! Oh God, dad, I've lost him and… and..."

"Charlie!" Alan gave his son another shake to try and reach him. "It was just a dream, Charlie! It was just a dream son."

Charlie took a moment to register his father's words, and the panic slowly began to fade from his eyes. He looked around the familiar confines of his bedroom… not the east quad at Cal Sci, but his home. His mind still fogged with sleep worked feverishly to sort out what his senses were telling him. Gone was the bright light of the afternoon sun. He was in his dark room that was now illuminated by the overhead lamp in the hall way. He was kneeling on the hard wooden floor of his bedroom with his father crouched in front of him holding his arms tightly. His throat was scratchy from screaming, and perspiration trickled down his forehead and stung his eyes. He glanced over at the digital display on his bedside alarm. Blinking sweat and tears out of his eyes, he saw that it was one forty-five in the morning.

"It was just a dream" he said, aloud in a uncertain voice. It had been a dream, only a dream… so why was he still trembling?

Alan sighed with relief. He son was finally waking up and calming down. "Yes, Charlie, it was just a dream." Alan watched his youngest carefully. Tears still lingered in his eyes, but the nearly feral look had left them. "Come on; let's get you off this floor." Alan said, as he helped Charlie to stand up, but felt his concern grow again as Charlie wobbled precariously.

He sat down on the edge of his bed still trembling. He was awake now and knew that it had just been a dream, so why was the dread, the fear, not releasing its hold over him? The image of Don, lying peacefully in that coffin as it was being lowered into the ground, flashed across his mind, and the feeling of barely contained panic began to grow again. Then an image of his brother as one of the victims in the crime scene photos surfaced. Don lay there, his skin a deathly pallor of grey, his eyes opened wide and his face contorted in a grimmace of pain and terror. Charlie envisioned his brother's chest pulled apart exposing a gaping hole where his heart once rested. As that depiction burned in his brain, Charlie seized his head tangling his fingers in his hair nearly pulling out handfuls of it. "No. No! NO!" He shuddered violently, rocking himself, trying desperately to dispel the image.

Alan sat next to Charlie and wrapped his arms around his son. Charlie had never been this affected by a nightmare, even as a child. "Charlie, it's all right, son. It really was just a dream."

Charlie could still feel his pulse pounding in his ears. His chest felt tight as though a large strong band was squeezing the air out of him. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his stomach that was threatening to release all of its contents, and squeezed his eyes shut trying to control his breathing that was now coming in ragged gasps.

Alan was at a complete loss as to what to say or do at this point. Even though Charlie hadn't shared what the dream was, based on the hysterical words that he had uttered as he pulled out of the nightmare, Alan strongly suspected that it was about Don. The case that his sons were working on scared him to death. It seemed that every time he turned around another FBI agent had been murdered.

Alan did not know the particulars of the case. Both Don and Charlie had mutually decided to keep the gruesome details classified from him. Don had been angry when he found Charlie looking at the crime scene photographs. Charlie had reacted just as Don had expected he would, and barely made it to the bathroom in the hall outside Don's office before vomiting. It had taken him nearly thirty minutes to calm down and weakly apologize to his brother for his poking around in the files when Don had asked him not to.

Alan brushed one hand across his son's sweaty forehead to move the hair out of his eyes, but also to inconspicuously check for a fever. "What was the dream? Maybe if you talk about it, it will help."

Charlie gave him an apprehensive look. The last thing that Charlie could bring himself to do was to relive the horror he had just envisioned. He was still fighting to calm himself and Alan felt ready to either call for an ambulance for the apparent asthma attack Charlie was having, or at the very least call Don, just to reassure his youngest son that his older brother was indeed alright. "Charlie, it was a dream, a nightmare, but it's over now."

"I know. I... it's just that it felt so real." Charlie said, in as controlled a voice as he could manage. He shook himself mentally. 'This is ridiculous. Don is fine. Nothing happened to him and I'm acting like an idiot.' Charlie got up shakily and headed for the door.

"Charlie?" Alan stood and put a hand on Charlie's arm. He was still trembling. "Are you all right? Where are you going?"

Charlie stopped, but he didn't turn around. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to stop the tears, and he didn't want to upset his father even further. "I'm all right, Dad. Like you said, it was just a bad dream. I'm gonna take a shower."

That was actually not a bad idea, Alan thought. Charlie was drenched with sweat and that could be partially what was causing his son to keep trembling. "I'll get some clean pajamas and put them on the vanity for you."

Charlie nodded and quickly moved to the bathroom, but made sure to keep his back turned toward the door fiddling with the shower curtain when his father entered. As soon as Alan had put the clean clothes on the sink then left, Charlie stepped over to close and lock the door. After turning on the shower he just sat down on the edge of the tub clutching his middle, trying to make his body stop shaking. He couldn't figure out what was happening to him. His heart was racing and his breathing was coming in short almost painful wheezes. "Stop this!" he hissed, in a low voice. "You're being ridiculous. Don is fine!" He forced his hands away from his stomach, then stood up and looked at himself critically in the mirror. "I'm not so sure about you, however," he muttered to his reflection.

Charlie pulled his damp pajamas off his body and dropped them into the laundry basket by the door with a grunt of disgust, then stepped into the tub and stuck his head under the flow of the shower. After a while the heat and massaging effects of the water helped to soothe his twitching muscles and the steam began to ease his labored breathing. Once he was breathing normally again and his chest had loosened up he got out, toweled himself off and got dressed in the dry pajamas finding that he did feel much better.

As Charlie emerged from the steam filled bathroom, toweling his hair, he jerked a bit, startled to see his father coming up the stairs. "I made some hot chocolate. Come on down and have a cup."

"Dad, you're still up?" Charlie knew that he had been in the shower for a long time because the hot water had started to turn lukewarm by the time he had finished.

Alan smiled and said, "Of course. Come on now, before the chocolate gets cold." He turned and went down the stairs with Charlie following a few steps behind him.

The two men sat down at the kitchen table and Charlie wrapped his hands around a steaming mug. He looked at his father and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry I woke you, Dad. I..." Charlie shook his head and realized that he was actually embarrassed by his childish behavior. "I feel like a kid. I mean, I'm kind of old for night terrors." Charlie smirked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Alan took a moment before he spoke, but rather than match Charlie's attempt to keep things light, he spoke with a somber look and a serious tone. "First of all, Charlie, I am not upset about being wakened. I am your father and no matter how old you get, you will always be my child. That's the way it is with parents and their children. Secondly, that was no ordinary nightmare. Charlie, I was thinking about calling an ambulance. You may not be aware of this, son, but you were not at all well. You were having so much trouble breathing that I considered going up to the attic to try and find that old nebulizer."

Charlie frowned and looked at his father. He had all but forgotten that as a young child he had had severe asthma.

"I could see your pulse in the veins in your neck." Alan continued undeterred by his son's frown. "You were thumping along at well over 100 beats per minute. You were dead pale and clammy and I honestly thought for a moment that you were going to pass out."

Charlie just sat there looking at his father, stunned. He knew that his pulse had gone up very high, but he hadn't realized how obvious what was happening to him had been. After his shower he had calmed down and was not as concerned about the over-reaction he had had to the dream; but now he starting feeling a creeping sensation inch up his spine. Was there actually something wrong with him? Charlie could see that his father was serious, and was still concerned even though Charlie felt almost normal again, which in itself disturbed him more than anything else. He decided that honesty was the best policy in this instance.

"Dad, I don't know why I reacted the way I did. The dream was…" He shuddered, thinking about it. "I was at Cal Sci playing chess with Larry. David showed up to tell me that…"

Charlie's face paled slightly as he felt himself being pulled back to the memory of the nightmare. He didn't want to tell his father about his dream; he didn't even want to think about it himself. They had both nursed their worst fears since some maniac had started brutally killing federal agents a few weeks ago.

"…to tell you that your brother had been killed." Alan finished for him.

Charlie just nodded. "I guess I'm more worried about Don than I thought. It's been difficult going to two funerals in the space of one week. I just can't help thinking that it could have been Don lying in one of those caskets."

Alan reached across the table and took hold of Charlie's hand. "I worry about him too. I have pictured the same thing in the darkest hours of the night. To tell you the truth, this is the most I have ever hated his job. All we can do is to be there for each other."

Charlie still didn't know why he had had such a strong physical reaction to his fears, though. The fact that he had experienced an all but hysterical asthma attack troubled him more than he wanted to admit. Charlie had only been three or four years old when he was plagued with asthma so he didn't have very clear memories of that time in his life, but he did remember the horrible feeling of not being able to breathe. That remembered sensation frightened him on a primal level that made his skin crawl and he instinctively took a deep breath just to make sure he could.

Alan watched as the emotions played across Charlie's expressive eyes. He recognized the fear that once tore his heart open when his young child fought for breath as a small child. He gave Charlie's hand a squeeze to draw his attention and said, "I know that you help Donnie on a lot of his cases, Charlie, but I think that maybe you should stay away from this one."

Charlie froze and looked directly into his father's face. He saw the concern reflected in his father's wise and caring eyes and his instinct was to do what his father asked. There was a stronger urgency pushing him, however, and he knew that he had to help his brother and the bureau solve this case. "Dad, you just said that we have to be there for each other. With my help, they can catch this guy; hopefully before he kills someone else. Don't you see, dad, if there was ever a case that I have to help with, it's this one!"