Charlie's POV

I was pushed to the ground. Before I could get myself up, someone pulled my arms behind my back painfully. I felt my wrist being tied together and I cried out in pain when the ropes burned into my skin.

I was dragged to my feet, then brought to a chair where I was forced to sit. It wasn't until then that I saw who my attacker was.

Carl Waits was working on me, making sure I wouldn't be able to escape. I tugged and pulled, knowing that if I didn't break away, Don and Dad would be next.

"Nope. There's no escape for you this time, Eppes. Big brother won't save you."

I felt panic rise in me. I had to warn them, but if I screamed, they'd come running to me. I couldn't do that. I had to get away on my own. I had to escape!

Before I could do anything to stop it, Jake came in, hauling Don and Dad. Their faces were covered by black pillow cases. Their arms were tied behind their backs.

"Dad! Don!" I screamed when I saw them, frantically hoping they'd be able to get away.

"Charlie? Is that you?" Dad asked.

Carl came over then and punched Dad in the stomach. I winced in pain at the sight as Dad doubled over.

"Hey! Don't you hurt him!" Don demanded, though he was in no position to make demands.

While Dad was down, they untied his hands, only to tie them in a different position. His wrists were tied together above his head and then nailed to the wall. I was thankful that they hadn't nailed his hands into the wall and just the rope.

Don was next. They did a similar thing to him, only aiming lower.

"Stop it!" I ordered when Don dropped to his knees.

"Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet, Eppes," Carl said as he briefly turned back to me.

They did the same thing to Don, tying his hands together and nailing them to the wall above his head. There was no escaping that.

Once the two were secured by also tying their legs together and nailing them to the lower wall, their pillow cases were taken off. Both looked around frantically, then their eyes rested on me.

"Charlie, are you okay?" Dad asked immediately. I shook my head no. I knew what was coming next and I couldn't face it.

"Did he hurt you?" Don demanded, sounding angry, but at Carl and Jake, not me.

I shook my head no, the tears already forming. It was going to come. I knew it.

"What do you want from us?" Don demanded when Carl came in front of him.

"I don't want anything from you. I'm just getting the payback, treating your brother with a little show."

Don looked around Carl to me.

"What does he mean, Buddy?" He asked.

I couldn't meet his gaze. This was all my fault. I should have protected them better. I should have done something! I should have made them leave the country, taken them on a trip. Don was going to die, maybe Dad, too and it was all my fault.

Within a few minutes, the torturing began. Carl took out a whip and began to hit Don over and over again. I screamed for him to stop, but every time I did, it encouraged him more.

Dad was crying as he fought to turn his gaze away. I couldn't stand this sight. This wasn't supposed to happen. They were both behind bars. How could this happen?

Don's screams ceased and I dared to look up. Don was panting heavily, straining against the pain. His shirt was ripped and beneath the tears I could see blood. He looked up and our eyes held for the briefest second. I felt too guilty to hold his gaze. This was all my fault, after all.

Carl came around to me and stood behind my chair. He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "Now comes the fun part."

I felt a chill run down my spine. What was next?

"I'd just like to take the time now to explain why we're all here," Carl said, addressing us all like this was a meeting.

Dad tore his gaze from Don and looked over at Carl.

"We all have the professor over here to thank. He set this up, you see. So, be sure to thank him for your miseries."

Carl and Jake left the room then and Dad and Don turned to me after they watched the two leave.

"What is he talking about?" There was an uncertainty in Dad's voice, like he didn't want to believe it, but part of him did.

"He's lying! I didn't set this up. He's been bothering me for weeks now! He threatened to do this when he first kidnapped me." I paused, searching their faces for some sign of belief.

"You believe me... don't you?"

Don looked away, but Dad held my gaze.

"I believe you, Charlie."

I looked at Don and he finally looked at me.

"Don?"

"Sure. I believe you." I wasn't so sure with him.

"Are... are you okay?" I asked Don after breathing a sigh of relief.

He nodded, but I saw blood on his shirt and each breath sounded struggled.

Carl came back in then.

"Well, it's good to know you believed him."

The three of us watched him as he came closer to Don. I saw the shiny object in his hands and I began to shake.

"Too bad that's not the truth. You see, Charlie told me how much he hates having an older brother, how he can't stand it. Always hogging your father's attention, never truly appreciating his brilliance. It's understandable, but this? There must be some real issues between you two. But, I won't ask questions. I'm here for one purpose."

"And what's that?" Don asked after looking at me briefly.

Carl smiled. "To kill you."

Don looked at me. I shook my head no, trying to convey the message that Carl was lying. But I saw it. He believed Carl.

"Say bye-bye to Big Brother, Professor," Carl said as he stood in front of Don.

"No! Please! Leave him alone! Hurt me instead! Just don't touch him!" Dad pleaded.

"Stop!" I screamed as the first stabbing commenced. Don screamed in such pain that I felt it as my own. Tears streamed down my face. This can't be happening.

Then another stabbing. Don screamed out again, but it was hoarse. He was losing blood fast. Another one. This time a sob came from his mouth.

"Stop it! You're going to kill him! Stop!" Dad demanded as he continued to cry.

"Oh, no, I can't stop. Not now. He's almost gone."

Don looked up, his body hanging limply still. His eyes met mine and I saw the sorrow, the fear, the anger. But there was no love. And that was the hardest truth to face.

With one last stabbing, Don was gone. Dad cried out with sadness, screaming Don's name.

"Well, my work here is done. It was nice doing business with you, Professor," Carl said. He came over to me and untied me. I rushed over to Dad, taking out the nail with the left-behind hammer.

Dad collapsed to the floor and then rushed to Don's side.

"My son!" He screamed, taking Don's face between his hands. Dad hugged Don's lifeless body to him and cried.

I could do nothing except stand by and watch. When he turned and looked at me, I knew he believed Carl too.

Alan's POV

Don and I sat up late that night, drinking coffee. Charlie had stayed in bed all day, never even getting up to eat anything. I was worried about him, but I had a feeling that it was just a 24-hour virus.

We had talked about how worried we were about Charlie. I was surprised when Don confessed something to me.

"You know, Mom asked me to look after Charlie before she died," Don had said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I feel like I've let her down, though." His voice sounded sad, troubled.

"No. No, Don. You could never disappoint your mother or me. She was always so proud of you."

After a slight pause, I confessed something myself.

"You want to know a secret? She asked me to look after both of you."

Don smiled at me.

"I don't think she asked Charlie. Do you?" Don said after a minute.

"No. He wasn't around enough," I said sadly, still regretting the time Charlie missed with his mother.

I was brought back to the present when Don leaned back in his chair beside me at the kitchen table. He tilted it on its back legs, something I would have admonished him over when he was younger. I couldn't say much now, though I was sure he'd still obey.

I stood and stretched.

"I better get to bed. You should, too, you know."

Don shrugged. "I'll head up soon."

"Okay. Good night, Son."

"Night, Pop."

I went up the stairs, deciding to check on Charlie. When I opened the door to his room, I found him tossing and turning, saying "Dad" and "Don" over and over again. It sounded like a plea for help.

I turned and rushed down the stairs. Don stood when he saw me coming, sensing trouble.

"It's Charlie. He's having a nightmare or something. He's calling for us."

Don followed me at a run as we went up the stairs. When we got to Charlie's side, Charlie was screaming our names, tears running down his face.

"Wake up, Charlie. It's just a bad dream. Wake up," I said as I shook him. I felt his forehead, a fever was still there, though he had cooled.

"Come on, kiddo. Wake up," I said a little louder as I shook him harder than last time. It did the trick. He shot up in bed, nearly head-butting me on the way up.

Charlie searched the room, looking around. When his eyes reached Don, he lunged toward his older brother.

Charlie clung to Don so helplessly that I began to worry. Don hugged his brother back. He looked over Charlie's head at me and we shared a worried glance. Neither of us understood what was going on, what was causing the problem.

"I'm sorry, Don. I'm so sorry," Charlie said in a broken voice that was muffled by how his mouth was pressed against Don's shirt.

"Sh. It's okay. I'm all right."

Charlie tightened his grip, something I didn't realize was possible. I saw Don's worried look, could see he was thinking hard about what was going on.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry," Charlie said so sadly. What was he sorry for?

"It's okay, Buddy. I'm all right. You didn't do anything wrong," Don tried to reassure Charlie.

Charlie sobbed brokenly. I didn't know what to say. I just sat back and watched as Charlie refused to let go of Don. Though he looked a little uncomfortable, I knew Don wouldn't let go until Charlie was ready.

After five minutes had passed and Charlie's hold never loosened, I intervened.

"Come on, Charlie. Let go." I tried prying his hands loose but it wasn't working well.

"It's okay, Dad," Don said, but I knew he couldn't sit like that all night.

"Sh. Calm down, Charlie. Donnie is okay. He's fine. Just let go." The soothing words seemed to register and Charlie's hold loosened ever so slightly. Don was able to free himself from his brother's grasp.

"What was that all about?" I asked Charlie as he lay back on his bed, staring up at Don.

"I'm sorry," He said quietly, staring into Don's concerned eyes.

"For what, Buddy?"

"For getting you hurt."

Don and I looked at each other. Don shrugged, letting me know he had no idea. I wondered if it was just the fever, or maybe the nightmare.

"Don is not hurt, Charlie. He's fine. He's right here. It was just a bad dream."

I swiped at the sweaty curls that refused to move out of his face. Stubborn curls on a stubborn boy.

"Just go back to sleep, kiddo."

Charlie nodded, but still wouldn't stop staring at Don. Don just stared back.

"Come on, now. You need your rest or you'll never get better."

Charlie turned on his side, making it look like he was getting more comfortable to sleep, but his eyes remained open.

I sighed. He wasn't going to sleep any time soon.

"Dad, why don't I stay with him until he falls asleep? You go on to bed. I'll sit with him," Don suggested.

"All right. But if you need me, all you have to do is call."

"We know. 'Night, Dad."

"Good night, boys."

I went down the hall and in to my room. I had a feeling Don wanted to be alone with Charlie for a while. I hoped he could get more out of him than I could.

Don's POV

I watched Dad as he walked out of the room. When he shut the door quietly behind him, I turned back to Charlie and was surprised to find tears running down his face again.

"What's the matter, Buddy?" I asked.

"I don't want you to die," He whispered, reaching out and grabbing my right hand.

"I'm not going to die, Buddy. I'm right here."

"I didn't mean to make you get hurt." I could tell it was still the fever talking, though I figured his nightmare had part to do with it too. Charlie didn't come out and say stuff like that. It was one of the things that made us so alike.

"Charlie, I'm fine. I promise."

"No, no. I got you hurt, killed. I didn't mean to, Donnie. I'm so sorry." The tears flooded harder now.

I got up and off the bed and sat down on the floor so that my face was level with Charlie's.

"I'm okay, Charlie. Look at me. I'm here. I'm alive."

When he still looked doubtful, I took the hand that was clutching my own and placed it on my chest over my heart.

"See? My heart's still beating. I'm still breathing. I'm right here, Charlie. I'm not going anywhere." I fought to reassure him.

"You're okay?"

"Yes, Buddy. I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

He sighed, burrowing into his bed a little more.

"Get some sleep, Buddy. You're going to have to get better soon."

"I love you, Don."

I smiled at him. He seemed so innocent.

"I know. I love you, too."

When Charlie finally closed his eyes, I stood and went down the hall to my old room. I lay there, thinking about Charlie and what he was talking about. Before I fell asleep, I came to the conclusion that there was still something he wasn't telling me.