A/N Thank you, Guest and Potato tomato, for your reviews! I appreciate them.

Mistaken Part Two

The Aftermath 2/5

Charlie stared at the yellow police tape in front of him. It closed off the entrance to the steam tunnels on CalSci. A crime scene on his campus, a crime scene where he had been the intended victim, a crime scene that made him shiver. What would have happened if he had drunk the coffee? What if Don hadn't come by just in time to protect him? All the bruises, all the hurt, all of it had been Charlie's fault. His father had made sure to drill into him the difference between responsibility and fault, but still Charlie wished he could tear down the tape and with it all the emotions bound to this place. He knew he wasn't responsible but he still felt guilty. A dark and dirty emotion he wished he could wipe away and replace with clean numbers on a black board, explaining everything.

"Charlie?"

Startled, Charlie jumped back, swirling around. Amita also took a step back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

Taking a deep breath to slow down his racing heart, Charlie took a moment to calm down. "It's all right. I'm just a little jumpy."

"That's understandable."

"Why? Because some students wanted to abduct me?" Charlie joked, but the joke fell flat, failing to elicit a smile on Amita's face.

"Are you really sure you want to talk to the three students?" Amita asked and frowned. While she had supported his desire to understand all facets of what happened, he also could see her opposition to talking to the responsible students.

"Positive." He started to walk away from the entry to the steam tunnels, the police tapes and the memories. "I need to understand what they were thinking. It's counter-intuitive on every level. Ron Silar studied biomechanics and Horatio Cruz worked on his degree in chemistry. Both had grasped the concept of logic, and yet they did something so illogical."

"And Serena Dillons aimed for a master's degrees in political sociology," Amita said, widening her stride to keep up with Charlie. "So, do you want to know this for your cognitive emergence theory or for yourself."

Charlie stopped dead in his tracks, forcing the flow of people to move around him. "There's no difference between the two answers." His theory was his work and everything he learned he would use there even if he mostly just wanted to understand the incomprehensible.

Amita gave him a small grin. "Oh, there could be a difference in whether your interest is of professional or personal nature, but I guess for you there's no difference in both." Amita grabbed his elbow and pulled him off the pavement, so other could pass them without trouble. "All right, let me rephrase my question. On what do you work in your garage currently?"

Shrugging, Charlie looked down on the green grass. "Mostly, I analyze Don's data." After Don had thrown them out of the hospital room, Charlie had just been angry. Too angry to think clearly. But their father had taken the rejection even worse. Charlie had been prepared to accept the guilt as he had been the intended target, but he almost hadn't been able to bear the pain on Alan's face. Only his father's insistence that it was fine and that Don had the right to ask for privacy until the drugs had left his system, had prevented him from storming back into the room and making a scene. A fact, he had been immeasurable thankful for as just a few hours later, Don had called to apologize and to ask for his help. For his help! It had taken another two days until they finally could sit down and put their heads together, trying to figure out how many people had known about the plan and who could've helped. Still, headaches and raising tempers had made their talks difficult and prone to loud voices.

"Thought so," Amita said. "Don has brought new data for you to the house," Amita continued and pulled out a thick file from her bag. "Didn't you tell him that you were going to see Serena Dillons today?"

"Well," Charlie said, noting that the flow of people abated. "He didn't take it well that I wanted to talk to them. So, I thought it would be better to talk to him afterwards." It had sounded reasonably in the privacy of his thoughts, but spoken out loud it seemed childish.

"But he knows?" Amita pulled them both back on the walkway and still managed to stare at him intently.

"I didn't want to tell him at all until afterwards, but he -" Smiling ruefully, Charlie shrugged. "I needed help to make it happen and had asked Megan. But somehow he found out and confronted me with it. But I think most of his anger had been already dumped on Megan."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Amita asked.

"No!" Charlie almost shouted the word. "I mean no," he repeated in a normal voice. It had been a hard fight for Charlie to get the permission to talk to the three students. There had been a lot of red tape and juridical issues but in the end somehow he had been allowed, but only if they would explicitly agree to a meeting. He didn't want to jeopardize it by bringing Amita with him. And maybe, just maybe he wanted to keep her away from danger.

"You still want to protect me," Amita concluded on her own.

"It's bad enough already that Don was mistaken for me. I couldn't take if you're hurt," Charlie said. Amita wouldn't be able to pretend to be as fine as Don did. But maybe this would be easier to bear than Don's attempts to act as if nothing had happened.

"Charlie, you do know that Don is taking this hard, do you?"

Charlie glanced to the parking lot and nodded. He knew it, had seen it. The way Don walked across campus, the way he entered Charlie's office and even drank coffee on campus, it all was supposed to show that he was fine. But Charlie had learned to look deeper, and so had Amita. They both had seen the way he never let go of his coffee and didn't accept anything offered to him, no sugar, no milk, no food. Nothing. Normal people saw just what they were supposed to see - a strong and untouchable FBI agent. But Charlie had seen more. He had seen the furtive glances around, the way Don assured himself that he was wearing a bulletproof vest, the way he never relaxed. Charlie looked up to his girlfriend and found the same knowledge reflected in her eyes.

Don wasn't fine. Not by a long shot.

Before they could continue their conversation, David arrived and waved Charlie over. It was time. If he could just figure out what the Serena and her friends had been thinking, then maybe, just maybe he could understand it; and if he could understand it then he would know what to do.

Megan watched the elevator. Since Larry had called her and reported what had happened between Dr. Mildred Finch and Don, she had been waiting for Don to arrive at the office. He could have driven the distance three times already and still hadn't shown up. David had left to accompany Charlie's visit to Serena Dillons, but Megan was still waiting.

Lowering her head, Megan tried to get her work done, while also trying not to think too much about Don. But the worry in her gut stole her focus. For days Don had run after his idea that there was a conspiracy and not just luck and chance, running straight toward the dangerous pit of desperation. Don was wearing himself down, trying to figure out the why, while Megan had been forced to a front row seat, seeing the crash coming but not knowing how to head it off.

Another ding of the elevator, and Megan raised her head again. Finally, this time the elevator car contained Don. She sighed in relief and looked away as Don left the elevator before he could notice her monitoring. But Don didn't even look up, busy fidgeting with his access card.

"Everything all right?" she asked, as he had reached their cubicle and finally finished clipping the card to his belt.

"What?" Looking up, he seemed to be far away. "Yes, fine. Sorry, I'm late. Colby texted me. Did I miss anything?" He looked shortly to her before his focus returned to his desk, and he started to search for something.

Megan answered with a patient smile. "No, nothing important." She paused, waiting for him to say something. But she should have known that Don would keep his silence. "Larry told me about the run-in with Millie," she finally offered.

Dropping the files in his hands on his desk with a loud bang, Don turned towards her. "Does the whole world know about it?" he snarled loud enough that several agents looked their way. Biting his lips, Don sat down. In a lower voice, he continued, "Who called you?"

Megan frowned. "Larry. I hope you don't actually think about Millie's words. She had no right to approach you, you know that."

"I know," Don snapped back and went back to his searching. "Besides, my dad had already called Robin who also offered to take back everything she had said and getting me every warrant I could possible want if I don't even think about putting in a good word for the girl." Don snorted. "As if anything I could say, would change anything, even if I'd wanted."

Relieved Megan leaned back in her chair. "I'm glad to hear that," she said while thinking, 'Good for Robin." Robin at least knew her priorities, and that priority was protecting Don, even if she had to ignore her professional opinion. A professional opinion Megan shared. Through Larry, Megan knew how strained the last weeks on CalSci had been. And the backslash was just gaining strength and momentum. For a moment, Megan had actually been worried that Don's absence was connected to Millie's proposal. "So, where have you been?"

Out of the corner of his eyes, Don stared at Megan with narrowed eyes.

"Hey!" she said. "I'm just a little worried. It's not like the last days have been easy for you or your family."

For a long moment, Don remained silent and just stared at her, then he answered, "I went to the batting cages. Happy now?"

"If it helped, I'm happy," Megan said with a smile. Going to the betting cages may have not been her preferred option but it was a good choice. "I guess you don't want to talk about Millie?"

This time, Don didn't even bother to turn around, letting his silence and tense shoulder being his answer, still searching something on his desk. Shrugging, Megan went back to her own work. She had just found where she had left off, as she was interrupted. "Megan? Where's the profile on Dillons, Cruz and Silar and their possible connections to a group?"

She sighed and rolled over to Don with her chair. "In their files."

Don frowned. "I asked for a new one."

"Don, the conspiracy you are looking for doesn't exist." Megan leveled her voice to a soothing tone. The faster Don would find a way to deal with what happened and not trying to find answers that didn't exist, the faster he could heal. "It was three students working together, having luck and a plan. Nothing more."

"They needed to have help," Don insisted.

Megan hesitated, rubbing at her forehead before she glanced to him. "Don, did you talk to Bradford, yet?"

Don laughed out loud but there was no humor in his voice and expression. "Is this the answer to everything? I have questions and your answer is a shrink?"

"No."

"Then what?" he growled, rapidly losing his patience, something he often did since returning to desk duty.

With no answer, she had no idea, if Don had been to the mandatory visit yet. Megan had to assume that he either hadn't been there or it hadn't helped him. Either way, as she was the one who could see the big crash Don was headed to, it was her responsibility to act. So, Megan tried again. "Don," she started, "the truth is that there were only three students, who had a plan - grabbing a well-like professor, calling in a press conference, having enough press present and appear out of the blue on campus, presenting their ideas and demands directly to the press, knowing to get at least a week of coverage out of such a stunt. We would have cleared the campus but not the steam tunnels, not in the given time frame. It would have been a nightmare to make the arrest, and they would have gotten their press coverage in a way nothing else would have worked."

Don worked his jaw. Megan could see how he tried to separate words and thoughts from emotions and angry reactions. "They claimed in interrogation," Don said, "that they were protesting for more climate protection. To take it more seriously. Then a classic go famous or die trying doesn't make sense. If this was their plan, the result doesn't fit the aim. There has to be somebody else behind it. Somebody with a different objective, somebody who used them."

"You're right."

"What?"

"You're right," Megan repeated with a straight face. She had learned to debate from scratch. Agreeing with somebody who expected opposition was a well-known trick to take the wind out of someone's sails. "There is somebody else behind it. Or better something. It's an emotion and it's called fear. They fear the climate change. They fear the future."

"Really?" Don snarled. "They fear something that may or may not happen, now or in fifty years? And aren't we working on it?"

Megan tried to hide her sigh. Her aim was to help Don and not to antagonize him. If he could understand the student's emotions than maybe he would be able to categorize the students' actions better and find a way to let go. "Emotions are per se not rational. It doesn't matter if you think the climate change is something to fear or not. The important thing it that they fear it. You should know that."

"Megan," Don growled, trying to stop her. He stood up, apparently hopying to end this discussion.

But Megan was on a run. "Fear is not rational. If a police officer shots all his twenty bullets into a single man, then this isn't rational. Rational thinking would make you stop after five."

"That's not the same!"

"But in a way it is - they fear honest to goodness the climate change. And want to stop it."

"By kidnapping Charlie?" Don stopped to fight down his anger and allowed his face and voice to show his fury.

Megan fought down her passionate stance and settle back down. With more patience, she tried again. "Fear is not rational," Megan repeated. "Don't try to find a logic in their action. They acted out of panic, out of emotions. They haven't sat down to consider the consequences of their actions. Please, Don, as long as you try to understand their actions with your mind you'll always be angry. But if you try to accept that they acted out of fear, ..." Megan left the sentence unfinished, hoping Don would come to his own conclusion. She could just tell him what she saw, but to deal with it, he had to find his own way.

Don also sat down. Slowly, he shook his head. "They knew how to create fear, they knew how to follow a plan. You cannot compare a shooting that's over in a few seconds while you fear for your life with their careful preparations and planning."

Megan eyed Don, her frown deepening. Suddenly, she heard what Don wasn't saying. Don wasn't only stuck on what had happened, but more so on what could have happened if they hadn't mistaken Don for Charlie. She tilted her head and eyed Don. "Would you have called in a press conference, if they had gotten Charlie?"

Don exhaled and leaned back in his chair. Biting on his lower lip, he refused to answer.

"You would have considered it," Megan concluded. "Because fear is a powerful motivator."

Stroking along his chin, Don worked to relax his tense jaw. "I still need the report."

Sighing, Megan pushed her chair away. "You're the boss, even if you actually have no say in that matter. I'll write you one. But it won't say anything else I haven't already told you." She knew why she bothered but that didn't ease the pain of watching Don going down a dark path.

"Yeah, well, thanks anyway."

"Ready?" David asked while he locked his car.

"No," Charlie replied truthfully. "But I need to do this for my own and for Don's sake."

David gave him an unreadable look. "I'm going in with you, all right?" Charlie nodded, knowing that David was coming with him as a protector. Normally, Charlie would reject the notion, but this time, as he looked up the towering building surrounded by locked fences, he appreciated it.

Charlie shivered in the sun as he waited for the gate to open up all the way. It was a natural response to the rattling of the gates and sound of alarms. A visit in a holding facility was nothing for the fainthearted. David calmly introduced them before they were handed a form to fill out. The whole process seemed complicated and obscure, as Charlie just wanted to talk to the woman, the student who had wanted to abduct him. Nothing more.

Finally, Charlie was sitting in a small interrogation room waiting for Serena to be brought to him. Rubbing his sweaty palms together, he again was reassured by the smile on David's lips.

Whatever he had expected, the truth still managed to surprise him. Prison hadn't been kind to Serena Dillons. Nothing had remained of the shyly smiling girl on the photo he had pinned to his black board in his network analysis. Charlie only saw a woman with puffy and red eyes from crying that seemed to vanished between the two burly guards. For a moment, he felt pity, but then he remembered Don in the hospital and all the anger returned with a vengeance.

Serena was the first to break the awkward silence. "I'm so sorry. So sorry, Professor Eppes." She sniffled. "How is your brother?"

"Don, he, he is fine," Charlie answered, keeping his hands pressed against his thighs to prevent himself from balling them into fists.

"I promise, I only agreed to help Horatio and Ron because they had promised that they wouldn't hurt you."

"And would you have agreed if you had known it was my brother?" Charlie shot back.

Serena looked down on, staring at the handcuffs that locked her hands to the belt around her waist. "That's different," she finally offered.

Charlie shook his head. "No, it's not."

Flashing her eyes, Serena's head whip back up. "I wanted to help and save us. Everyday hundreds of people die of hunger because there's a drought. And it will only get worse. We don't have time to play nice anymore, we need results now and everybody who doesn't help ..." She suddenly stopped and glanced to David and the guards in the room.

"Is dispensable?" Charlie filled in the silence, forcing the hurtful words past his lips.

"I'm sorry. Really sorry, I didn't think Ron would get so angry. But as you, I mean your brother refused to drink the drugged water, something just snapped and -" The rest of her words were lost as a crying fit shock her small body.

Helplessly, Charlie glanced to David. It didn't seem fair to feel so conflicted. She had willingly participate in the plan, and no matter how much she believed it, Charlie knew that he wouldn't have suffered a better fate. But despite that, he still was touched by her tears. Fighting the urge to move, Charlie swallowed hard. No touching had been one of the conditions for the visit.

"I haven't said thank you yet for calling for help," he said as she had calmed down a little.

Serena nodded and snuffled. "Ron and Horatio are going to be so angry."

"You won't have to worry about them for a long time." Maybe Charlie wanted to console her, maybe he wanted to make it clear what her sentence would look like, either way the words seemed to stop the flow of tears.

"But what do I do now?" Serena asked and looked at Charlie. Suddenly, Charlie was reminded of the young students from his freshmen classes, eager students wanting to learn and hanging on his every word, not wanting to miss one twist of his tale. They knew he had the solution and were eager to hear it from his lips. Serena stared at him like that, expecting him to have an answer he didn't have.

"What would you have done afterwards, if it had worked?"

She shrugged. "I just wanted to get the message out. We need to do something right now, or we ..." she trailed off. Slowly, an expression of desperation appeared on her face. She bit down hard on her lower lip.

"You didn't have a plan for afterward?"

Slowly, Serena shook her head. Her lips started to tremble again and a new batch of tears streamed down her face.

Charlie stared at her, trapped between empathy as a young life had been thrown away so carelessly and being horrified at the sheer irrationality in all of it. There never had been a real plan, never a big picture, just a small act of desperation that could have costed him his brother.

TBC

A/N Thank you for reading!

A/N 2020-05-12 added a few clarifications. Thank you Iawen Londea!