A/N: Here's another chapter…sorry for the long wait…more therapy for yet another bad day/week!

Don woke in agony. He couldn't breath. Am I dead? Nope, not that lucky I guess. If any one had asked him what hurt he wouldn't have been able to say, not only did everything hurt, but the pain was so bad he couldn't speak. He tried to move, nothing happened. He tried to think. Where am I? Every time he had a thought it slipped away before he knew what the thought was. He felt surreal, he wondered whether he was dreaming or awake. Was he even real? He tried to open his eyes, they were glued together. Time seems unreal, as if it didn't exist. He felt like he was floating, but it wasn't a happy floating, he felt as if he were floating in a vat of acid and knives whilst being clubbed to death. When would it all end? When would he just die already and let the pain end? He felt like he was forgetting something, but he wasn't sure what. It was the only thought he could hold on to, that he was forgetting something. But what? His mind wouldn't grasp what he was forgetting. The pain never ebbed, but his other senses began to work again. I'm lying down. Why am I lying down? Don lay there for a while, how long he would never know, when he realized that he was laying on his side, on top of his arm. He felt tired, but he had to get off his arm. Slowly he worked up the strength to move. With a tremendous effort, Don rolled onto his back, laying sprawled eagle, shockwaves of pain radiating, and the world went black.

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When Charlie came around, he couldn't help but wish he were dead. The images burned into his memory. The sound of the bat crashing down on his brother's ribs, the sickening sight of the bat splitting in two, splinters raining across his brother's unconscious face, and the sound of his brother's unconscious, blood-curdling scream. He counted his heart beats thudding in his throat, he calculated the number of heart beat an average human beats in one minute, he felt like crying when he counted the sixtieth minute of heart beats, by three hours he did cry, silently to himself, counting the tears as they fell. The numbers came to him with ease, they came faster with each minute, he ran dozens of equations in his head all at once, never getting his answers, simply moving on to a new equation when he was done with the last. Time escaped him, he forgot how long it had been, he didn't care, and yet he did. The only thought he could maintain that wasn't a number, was his wish to die. If he were dead they wouldn't need him to cooperate, and they wouldn't need Don, for anything. He wanted it all to end, he wanted to join his mother…and his brother, for surely he would be there soon too, if not there already. He let all thought disappear. There were no words, in mind or voice. The walls were numbers, the chains were numbers, the door was numbers, his every tear was a number, and his bleeding heart was a number, everything was numbers.

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Escort walked towards the agent's cell. It was time for another visit, he had to get the math professor to cooperate, but he was stronger than they had anticipated. His superiors were pressuring him. He was told to turn up the heat and not to worry, the agent didn't need to survive, only the professor…so that was exactly what he would do. He entered the cell. The agent was in a state of semi-consciousness, his eyes rolling around the room, unfocused. His head tossed slightly and he looked as if he were trying to move. He couldn't help but admire that even after all of this he'd been capable of removing the blindfold and some how toss it half way across the room. He didn't bother to replace it; the agent wouldn't be a liability, even if he lived through this. He probably couldn't even see shadows at this point he was so messed up. He leisurely brought the agents raw wrists above his head and crossed one on top of the other. The agent grunted and gasped at the simplest movements rasping for every breath. Escort scowled. The professor was going to have to break soon; it didn't look like the agent would survive this next round. He tied a rope around his hands feeding the excess length through a pulley. He pulled hard on the rope, lifting the agent's dead weight into the air until he was just high enough that if he stretched onto his tippy-toes he could touch the floor. But he didn't do that, he didn't even try; he simply hung their gasping for breath. His lips gained a slight blue tinge, and his hands were already near purple. Escort stayed just long enough to be sure the agent wasn't suffocating before heading to get the professor.

He was surprised at what he saw when he enter the professor's cell. Charlie was sitting as close to the far corner of the room knees up to his chin, chin on his knees, arms wrapped around his legs, rocking back and forth, staring unblinkingly, and muttered numbers so fast that Escort couldn't tell which numbers were which. Charlie was on the precipice of sanity, this next visit would either push him over the cliffs of insanity or he would break and be cooperative. Escort felt the irresistible itch to see which it would be.

"Professor" Charlie continued to mutter.

"Charles" No response, Escort sighed undoing Charlie's restraints, lifting him to his feet and giving him a rough shake. Charlie didn't even falter in his numerical trance. He gritted his teeth before bashing his fist into Charlie's left eye. Charlie dropped like a stone. Escort kicked him in the ribs just as the professor would start to get up. After a while Charlie stopped getting up, he gave up. Escort brought him into Don's cell tying him to the chair. He was nearly in tears just seeing the sight of his now twisted and deformed brother, all beaten and bruised.

"Will you help us now Charlie?" Charlie slowly shook his head, not really looking sure of his answer, staring unblinking at his brother. Abruptly Escort swung his arm in an outward arc, a knife appearing out of no where. Charlie could literally hear the grate of the metal knife against bone, like nails on a chalk board. He couldn't stop the rush of bile when the knife exited Don's side creating a completely new wound. The stab look more like it came from an ax than a knife. Charlie's little world melted away, he never heard the question asked of him next, he was speechless, stunned, he saw pinpoints, both of which were consumed by Don, and that was all he saw as wound after wound was inflicted. He shuddered as he watched Don's blood drip slowly down Escort's hands.

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Megan sat at the table staring into the bottle neck of her beer. She had originally come to stay with Alan during this trying time, but now he wasn't there, he'd gone to the store with Larry. Why? Because it had to be done, and because she was worried he would literally go insane if he stayed in the home he'd raised both his sons in, both whom were now missing, without a trace. So she sat here, with Amita, drowning her sorrows in a bottle of beer. Amita shared a spot at the table, staring into her bottle, near the breaking point. She'd come because she couldn't do nothing, so she helped comfort Alan, but Megan could see she wouldn't be able to maintain control for much longer. She watched Amita, her lip would tremble at times and then settle again, the tears held at bay for just a while longer. Megan practically jumped when Amita broke the silence.

"We're not going to find him are we? Charlie's gone forever."

"Amita…we will find them." Megan didn't sound as confidant as she had hoped.

"But it's nearly been two weeks since he disappeared, and now Don is gone, both without any clues left behind…you can't find them without any leads." Megan felt like crying right then and there, she knew that Amita was right, but she hadn't let herself believe the facts. So she bluffed.

"We. Will. Find. Them. No matter what the numbers or statistics, or even facts say, we will find them."

"I…I just…I just don't know what I would do without Charlie." At that moment Amita broke into tears and ran for refuge in the bathroom. Megan let her be, taking a long drink from her beer. It didn't solve anything, but it made the ache go away…for a short time. Now more than ever she was determined to find Don and Charlie. It was time to bring them home. So when the home phone rang, Megan answered.

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Charlie watched his brother hang from the rope, he was unconscious, not breathing. Charlie couldn't see him breathing. Escort continued to stab and slice. Then when his brother had stopped breathing he stood there, and did nothing. Charlie couldn't stop the tears from shedding.

"PLEASE! HELP HIM, HE'LL DIE! YOU'RE KILLING HIM!" Charlie screamed at Escort, pleading for his life. Escort sliced clean through the rope dropping Don like a stone.

"No Charlie, you're killing him. It only takes one simple word. But if you say no, or don't say anything, than that's fine with me, I'll just watch your brother die. Or better yet…" Escort pulled out a hand gun and shot Don in the knee, before Charlie could respond he shot again. Don's shoulder exploded. Escort took aim.

"STOP IT! PLEASE STOP!" Another shot, this one in the abdomen. Escort lowered the gun, striding to Charlie.

"I can make it stop Charlie. I have a syringe of Epinephrine with me. I can revive him, keep him alive. I you agree to cooperate, I can send him home. All you have to do is say yes, Charlie, just say yes." Charlie nodded wearily, tears streaming down his face.

"What was that Charlie? I couldn't hear you."

"YES! Yes, I'll cooperate." Escort kneeled next to Don's body, filling a syringe and stabbing it into his chest. He pulled a tarp off of a machine on the cart next to him, attached a few wires to Don. The screeching flat line started instantly. Don's body arched off the ground with electricity, crashing back down only to be brought back up again and again, and again, and again, and again. It all ended with the joyous beep and the faint sound of a barely drawn breath. Charlie ran to his brother when Escort un-cuffed him. He put a trembling hand on his forehead. It was like touching fire. Don moaned weakly. His eyes traveled slowly, unfocused, searching for something. It tore his heart into billions of little pieces never to be found, he could see it in his eyes; his brother was confused, in unbearable pain, and afraid.

"Don, Don, I'm right here. Can you stay with me? Come on Don, I'm right here."

"rlee…where…"

"Shhh…it's okay Don, I'm right here, it's gonna be okay, just stay with me"

"hurts…tired…sleep"

"No Don, I need you to stay awake okay, just stay with me a little longer…I'm going to get you home."

"home…see Mom 'n Dad" Charlie bit back the tears…he wouldn't cry, not in front of Don…not like this.

"Yeah Don, home" Don slipped into unconsciousness again. Charlie supposed it was a mercy; there was no pain in the darkness. Escort tugged at his arm to leave.

"I'm not leaving him until we drop him off."

"Fine, don't cause any trouble; I'll be back when the cars are ready." Charlie never heard Escort leave, or bolt the door; his world was centered on his brother. He wanted to hold him in his arms, but he knew that would cause him more pain. Charlie lay beside Don…holding his brother's hand.

A/N: There it is. If you feel like crying…go ahead…that's how I feel right now. Oh and please review. Oh, I have a quick question…I'm not making Charlie look weak in this am I…I read a review for someone else's story and the reviewer complained about how people always make Charlie weak…I actually wrote this to show how strong Charlie can be…Am I succeeding? Let me know!