"Where are we?" Charlie asked his student as he was ushered into a large, empty warehouse.

"Used to be a self-storage place a few years ago," Grayson answered as he shut and locked the main door behind them. "Went out of business and no one wanted to buy the building."

Charlie nodded to the padlock the younger man had just locked. "So you decided to squat here?"

"Not really squatting, but it is a nice private place to spend time when I need to get away from it all."

"Like your brother?"

Grayson gave Charlie wry grin. "You never were very good at small talk."

"Even less so when someone I admire and expect a lot from pulls a gun on me." Charlie spotted a small, metal table with two folding chairs nearby and moved to sit in one. "Talk to me."

"It's my brother. He did something really stupid a few years ago-"

"Robbed a bank."

"Right." The younger man sighed. "Contrary to what the police thought, I really wasn't in the car with them. I was at home playing video games." He grew silent and sagged into the other chair. "I still remember sitting there and gaping at Sammy as he burst into the house, bags of money in his hands. He and his friend were panicking because they thought the cops were going to be there any second. I guess they realized, after the fact, that they had been caught on camera. Sammy tossed me the bags and told me to go hide them somewhere where no one would think to look."

"And you did?" Charlie inquired.

"He was my big brother – I trusted him. I bolted out of the house and found a place to stash the money. When I got home the cops had already arrested Sammy and his friend and taken them away. The next time I saw him was a couple of days before his trial. He told me no matter what to keep my mouth shut – that he would take care of everything and make sure they left me alone." Grayson began drumming his fingers on the table as he shook his head. "He told me to keep the money stashed, too. Said when he got out we'd take it and make a life for ourselves somewhere. Only…"

"You're not like him," Charlie finished. "You didn't want to get your hands dirty."

"Yeah, something like that."

"You knew he was going to get out of jail eventually, though. What were you planning on doing then?"

Grayson blushed and stared at the table. "It sounds stupid, especially now."

"Tell me," Charlie encouraged. "Please."

"I was always pretty good in school and math was my best subject. I figured I could get an education, get settled in to a well-paying job and support Sammy when he got out until we could find him a job doing something he enjoyed. Then maybe he wouldn't feel like he needed to rob banks or do any of that other crap he used to do."

"And you'd have had plenty of time to carry out your plan because he got a ten-year sentence."

"Even with time off for good behavior I could have been ready. But now…" He looked up at his professor, his eyes desperate and pleading. "I don't know what to do."

"He needs to finish his sentence if you want that clean start."

Grayson stood up and began pacing. "No! I won't turn him in if that's what you're suggesting. They'll add years for his escape. I can't do that to him."

"You didn't do this to him – he did it to himself when he chose to escape."

"His friend was murdered in prison," the younger man argued. "He was terrified! Wouldn't you have been?"

"Yes, of course. But he still chose to escape." Charlie paused and studied his student. "You're not thinking of helping him are you?"

"I don't know."

"Grayson," Charlie said reasonably. "If you help him – go on the run with him or turn over that money – you'll be throwing your life away. You can't do that."

"He's my brother," the student whispered as he sank back into his chair. He stared at Charlie and asked, "What would you do if your brother was in trouble?" When the professor remained silent, he nodded. "That's what I thought. Besides… there's another reason I was thinking of helping him."

"Which is?"

"He wants me and the money so we can go start a new life. I'm willing to go with him but I don't want to use that money… it just seems so wrong. But he wants it really bad, and while he would never hurt me…"

"He'd hurt someone you cared about," Charlie finished, his voice wavering. "Like me."

"You got it. And I won't let him do that, Professor."

"So you're going to give him the money?"

"It's not that simple."

Charlie frowned and reached out to place his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Keep talking."

"I… I really, really didn't want anything to do with that money. After Sammy went to prison it ate at me night and day, knowing that money was out there and I was the only one who knew about it. It felt so wrong so I… I did something to clear my conscience – to try and pay a penance of sorts for Sammy."

"What did you do?"

"I split it in three and donated it to different charities." He looked up and shrugged. "The money's been gone for years."

"Oh, Grayson," Charlie whispered. "That was a nice gesture on your part. Sammy doesn't understand why you did it?"

"He doesn't believe that I did it at all. He's convinced that I'm refusing to turn it over because I want him living clean. I wrote him so many letters while he was in prison about how I would take care of him when he got out… he's positive that's why I won't turn over the money." Grayson sighed and started drumming his fingers again. "That's why he threatened you – he thought I'd cave into his demands to keep you safe. And I would…"

"Except you can't."

"Right. And I have no idea what to do but that's why I brought you here – Sammy knows where I live, go to school, work… but he doesn't know about this place. I can keep you safe here."

"Safer than the agent watching over me at campus? Safer than my brother?"

"Okay… so maybe I didn't think this all the way through, but I really was trying to watch out for you."

Charlie leaned back in his seat, folded his arms across his chest and gave his student a hard look. "We need to go to my brother with this. He can help."

"I already told you that I'm not sending my brother back to jail. I just need to keep you here until I can convince him that the money's really gone. Once I do that, I'll go with him and you'll be safe."

"Grayson-"

"Save it, Professor. We're not going to see your brother." The two men both jumped as Grayson's cell rang. "Hello," he answered.

Charlie watched the younger man's face change from surprise to frustration to flat-out fear.

"Sammy… no," he whispered. "I already told you – Sammy!" He lowered the phone and frowned at the screen.

"What is it?" Charlie demanded.

"He… he knows I took you."

"And? Does he know where we are?"

"He's not going after you anymore."

Charlie was puzzled by the anguished look on his student's face. "That's good news… right?"

"He… he's still using you to try to get to me, though."

"Grayson, you're not making sense."

The younger man looked at his professor, then slowly turned the phone to where Charlie could see the display.

"Oh my God," Charlie breathed. There on the screen was an image of his brother lying on his side with his hands cuffed behind him, his eyes closed and blood covering the side of his face. "Don…"

"He says if I don't bring him the money tonight, he'll kill him." Grayson took a shaky breath and fixed Charlie with an expectant look. "I don't know what to do."

Charlie shook his head as despair threatened to crush his heart. "I don't know either."

--

Don wasn't sure what woke him first – the pounding throb in his skull or the aching muscles in his shoulders or the sharp bite of metal imprisoning his wrists – but whatever it was, he hurt. He bit back a groan as he dragged his eyes open despite the strong desire he had to let himself drift back to unconsciousness and the blissful ignorance of his discomfort. What happened? The house… Coop and I – Coop! Don struggled to sit up and search his surroundings but the pounding in his head increased, forcing him to lie still to keep from becoming sick. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths as he waited for the pain to subside. Once it had reached a bearable level, Don cracked his eyes open and – without moving his head – let his gaze travel around the part of the room he could see. He was concerned when he realized he seemed to be alone but also relieved to find that wherever he was, his captor had been decent enough not put him in a brightly lit room where he was certain the throbbing in his head would have increased exponentially.

Exponentially? he wondered to himself. Good lord, I'm starting to sound like Charlie. His eyes widened in the dim light of the room as his heart rate sped up. Charlie! Don started to sit up and quickly froze as he remembered his last attempt. Instead he scanned the room again, looking for any sign of his brother, Sammy or Grayson but saw only fuzzy shadows in the dim light. I guess I am alone. Only one way to find out for sure, I suppose…

"Hello?" Don frowned as he heard the rough sound of his voice. I guess I've been out for a while. He coughed weakly and tried to summon moisture into his mouth. "Anyone here? Coop? Charlie?" He grew quiet and strained to hear any sound around him but there was nothing to be heard. He was about to give up when he heard a soft click followed by a faint whoosh of air as a door opened nearby. Judging by the breeze that brushed over his bound form, Don determined someone had entered the room somewhere behind him. "Hello?"

"Shut up," a low voice growled as someone approached him. "If you don't, I'll gag you."

"Sammy?"

"I always knew you Feds were real smart," the voice sneered. "How long did it take you to figure that out?"

"Where's my partner?" Don demanded.

"None of your concern. Now shut up."

The agent would not be dissuaded. "Where is he? What did you do to him?"

Sammy drew closer to Don and crouched beside him as he hissed "Let's just say he's better off than you are."

Not sure whether he should be relived that his friend was okay or worried that he himself might not be much longer, Don frowned. "Why did you take me?"

"You don't need to know that," Sammy said, his voice growing fainter as he walked away from Don.

Desperate to keep his captor nearby and talking so that he might figure a way out of his situation, Don scrambled for words. "Your brother… he didn't bring you the money, did he?"

"He will."

"He'll be aiding and abetting a fugitive when he does. Are you willing to do that to him?"

Loud, angry footsteps rushed back toward Don just before a foot slammed into his lower back. "Don't you ever make a comment like that again. I love my brother. I take care of him!"

"By making him hide your loot for you? If the police had managed to find that money he'd have gone to jail just like you."

"I wouldn't have let that happen."

"But you will now?" Don inquired. "He'll be hunted down just like you."

"Leave him out of this," Sammy angrily hissed. "I only need you alive for a few more hours. You keep making me mad and I promise your death won't be pretty."

A few more hours? Don wondered. His stomach knotted as he started to put the pieces together. No… "Grayson wouldn't bring you the money."

"Sometimes he can be such a choirboy. I keep telling him how well we can live in Mexico but he's so stubborn. He doesn't want to 'live like that'."

"You had to think of a way to convince him." Oh God, no…

"His desire to protect those he cares about is playing into my hands very well. He won't turn in his own brother and-"

"He won't let you hurt someone he cares about. Like his math professor."

"I sure did underestimate Gray this time. I threatened that math geek's life and I'll be damned if Gray didn't swoop in and hide him away from me." Sammy let out a cold laugh. "I think he underestimated me a little, too. Didn't expect me to go after the math geek's brother but here we are."

"I won't help you lure them here," Don growled.

"You already did, Fed. I sent Gray a picture of you on his cell. You look quite the fright, you know? Blood all over the side of your head. Heck, if I didn't know better I might have thought you were dead or close to it." He let out another laugh as he moved away from Don. "I bet your brother almost had a heart attack when he saw you. It'll only be a matter of time now."

No, Don prayed. For God's sake, Charlie, you were right about Grayson and I wasn't. Please use that common sense and don't come here because of me. Even as the thought raced through Don's head, he knew Charlie would come to try to save him… just like he would gladly do if their roles were reversed. "So what's the plan? You kill both of us in front of Grayson and then he willingly goes on the run with you? Sounds pretty thin to me."

"Are you kidding? Gray would never go for that." Sammy walked back to Don's side and crouched down behind him. "That's why he's going to think I took you and your brother to an old van out back, tied you up in there and then called for help once we were a few miles down the road. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Don gasped as Sammy wrenched his head back and shoved a rag in his mouth, quickly wrapping several layers of tape around the agent's head to keep him quiet and then pounding his injured head into the ground. Don moaned against the pain, the noise all but silenced by the rag and layers of tape, as bright spots danced across his darkening vision. Sammy chuckled mirthlessly as he watched the agent fight to stay conscious. "We'll keep that plan our little secret, okay?"

Despite his best efforts to stay awake, the darkness pulled Don under. His last conscious thought was to pray that Charlie never found him.

TBC