A/N: Well I'm moved to B.C. but right now I'm visiting family. My Auntie's gone to the dentist and my cousin's busy at the moment so I decided to end your wait and write this for you. I hope you like it. Sorry for the wait, but anyway here you go!
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Chapter Seven: No One Was Supposed To Die
Alan paced around his living room waiting for any information on his son. He'd finally gotten the money he'd needed and it lay in a duffel bag on the hardwood floor. It had been too long since the phone call from Don and hadn't heard from his elder son since. He remembered the phone call from David only an hour or two after from hearing from Don.
"Mr. Eppes?" The African American agent asked quietly through the phone.
"David? What's going on? Donnie didn't get hurt did he?" He questioned, immediately worried for his son. He couldn't stand losing even one of them, let alone both.
"No, but 'they' got Amita, Don's trying to track her and Charlie down now. He hasn't stopped to eat or rest, I'm afraid he might work himself to the ground. I'm not trying to worry you Alan, but maybe you can talk him into at least eating something," David explained quickly and then waited for Alan's reply.
With a long sigh the older man ran his hand through his hair and spoke, "I'll try, but Don's stubborn, just like his mother. I got the money together though it wasn't easy."
"That's good, these guys have always given the victim back after the ransom is paid," David told him, "If they contact you for a drop-off call us immediately, no matter what. 'Kay?"
"Okay David. Send Don my way if you see him too. Bye," Alan said tiredly.
"Bye," and then there was dial tone.
The doorbell interrupted Alan's memory and he answered it to find a man holding a small rectangular package. A package that was getting to look all too familiar, a video tape, "Delivery for an Alan Eppes?"
"That's me," he answered quietly and signed for it. Carrying it inside he carefully opened it and slipped the tape into the VCR. He watched in silent horror as Charlie was beaten and shot, tears drifting unnoticed down his aged cheeks. His little boy was so close to death, he looked so pale on the video, so still. He barely heard the kidnappers' demands for the drop off, he actually had to rewind and play the ending again just to hear the man's words.
"Eleven tonight, 163 Herald Avenue, bring the money and I'll give you your son. Don't tell anyone, not Don, not the FBI, come alone or you'll never find the professor. He'll just die a slow and painful death... See you at eleven," the man told him before aiming a kick at Charlie's torso and then the tape went black.
"Oh god," he whispered to himself sadly before he checked his watch and saw it was ten-thirty at night. It a flurry of activity he threw on his jacket, grabbed the duffel bag and ran to his car. He knew he must've been driving twenty miles an hour over the speed limit but he didn't care. His boy was in pain, and every second he wasted was another moment in which Charlie could die.
It seemed as if hours passed until he reached his destination - an abandoned house with a dark sedan in the driveway. He paused before parking and jumping out, trying desperately to pull himself together. With a deep breath, he faced the sedan and watched as three men got out. One was holding a monster of a handgun, and another was completely supporting the third.
"Ah Mr. Eppes, nice of you to join us," the man with the gun spoke airily and grinned underneath his ski mask, "Do you have my money?"
Alan held up the duffel bag silently and asked," What about Charlie? Is he okay?"
The man pointed to his partner and the limp man and answered, "'Okay' wouldn't really describe him at the moment, but 'alive' - yes. Slide the money over and we'll leave you and you son alone and that's a promise."
Swallowing the lump in his throat he slid the duffel bag towards the man and watched as he dug through it and made sure it was real and all there. Without another word, he signaled to the other man who took a step forward and the third man's feet dragged behind.
"Oh god, Charlie!" Alan cried out as he ran up to the men and took his son in his arms. Charlie moaned and Alan carefully sat down and let his son rest on him, unable to hold up his dead weight for long.
"Well it was nice doing business with you," the man told him and pointed the gun at the two men, "Now its time to say goodbye, but look at it this way, at least you'll die together.
"You bastard, you said you'd leave us alone," Alan cursed through his clenched teeth.
"And I will... I'll leave your bodies alone once you're dead," he smiled as he pulled the trigger.
"No!" Alan heard the voice through tightly closed eyes and a loud bang. Opening his eyes a peek, he saw the man's partner holding the gun and standing over the dead body.
"Why?" He asked in a shocked voice - he'd been expecting to die.
"No one was supposed to die," he said quietly and tossed Alan a cell phone before jumping into the sedan and driving away.
Still holding his near-dead son, Alan quickly dialed 911. After hanging up the only thing he could think of doing was rocking Charlie in his arms and crying.
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"Don, I swear I'm fine. Look… I don't need a doctor. Please. You look like you need a doctor more than I do. When was the last time you ate?" Amita asked as she lay in the hospital bed. The doctors had even told her that apart from a few bruises she was fine.
"This isn't about me, Amita," he told her sternly and then sighed. "You're right, I should eat something. I'll be back in a little bit."
"No you don't!" Amita told him firmly. "You're going to eat, then you're going to take a nap and after that you're going to find Charlie."
"Yes Ma'am," Don tried for a joke and got a small wisp of a smile that lasted only a second, but was a smile nonetheless. He got up and left quietly. Just as he got to the parking lot he saw an ambulance, sirens blazing rush in.
He didn't see who was on the stretcher - just the older man who got out after. It was his father and he was covered head to toe with blood.
"DAD!" He practically yelled as he ran up to his Alan and enclosed him in a bear hug. "Was that Charlie? Did you find him, or pay the ransom? Dad… what happened?" He'd just noticed the tears that stained his father's face.
"That was Charlie, Donnie, but he's in bad shape, real bad shape. He looked so pale Donnie. My baby boy - he looked dead!" Alan cried and Don could not imagine what his father was going through. Charlie was his brother and he loved him, but he knew it couldn't compare to nearly losing a child.
"Dad, you need to get cleaned up, you're covered in blood... none of it's yours is it? Are you okay?" He asked. Nothing would've shocked him at this point.
"No... Donnie, I can't leave Charlie," Alan told him and tried to go into the hospital.
"Dad… listen: they won't let you see him yet anyway. It'll only take a short while, we both need to eat and shower. Charlie wouldn't want us stay at the hospital like this." Don pleaded with his dad until he finally relented.
"Take me home then. But only an hour Donnie - we're only going to be gone for an hour," Alan said. He felt as if he was letting Charlie down by not being there, but he also knew his older son was right.
"Only an hour Dad," Don assured him and wondered what crime he committed in a past life to deserve what had happened to his family in the last couple days.
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A/N: Well there's chapter seven, it may have been a little short, but I'm not actually at home right now and it would be rude to stay on my Aunt's computer all day. You guys understand right? Well anyways please review and I don't mind criticism as long as it's constructive. Flames will be ignored.
