I'd kill for a bottle of aspirin right now. Don groggily blinked his eyes in a battle of wills to keep them open. He finally managed to convince them to stay at half-mast – a small victory, but anything that gave him confidence was a good thing because nothing else was looking promising. The throbbing in his head had reached astronomical proportions, his hands and arms had long since lost all feeling and he could feel a tickling down the side of his face, telling him that his head wound was still seeping blood. There was also the little matter that Coop could be dead and Charlie might soon join him.

Next time Coop comes to town and asks for my help I think I may have to tell him where to shove it. Don laughed bitterly, the weak sound echoing slightly in his cavernous prison. Like there's going to be a next time at this rate. Tears formed behind his drooping eyelids and Don clenched his eyes shut. To succumb to such thoughts was to give up – and Don Eppes never gave up. At least that's what he started chanting to himself as he struggled to open his eyes again. After a few minutes he let out a despondent groan, his head sagging against the cool concrete floor. No use, he sighed to himself. There's no way for me to escape. Oh God, Charlie, please don't come here. Of course you will, though, so please be careful. Dad will never survive if he loses both of us.

A rustling noise grabbed Don's attention. He painfully craned his neck to peer through the darkness behind him but saw nothing except blurry shadows. Squinting, he held his breath and listened for more sounds, only to be rewarded with silence. Head wound must be getting to me. Maybe if I close my eyes for a little while I'll be able to concentrate when I wake up. Yeah, just for a little bit…

As the injured agent slipped from grogginess into unconsciousness, it mercifully didn't occur to him that he might never wake up again.

--

Charlie couldn't help but glance over his shoulder every few seconds as Grayson confidently led the way into the old, abandoned industrial building. His student might be certain that Sammy wasn't expecting them but Charlie had his doubts. And then there was the matter of the fugitive letting them go with a smile and a wave even with Grayson agreeing to flee with him. Charlie just didn't see that as a probable outcome but he followed his student in the hopes that they would find Don alive. Once that was accomplished Charlie would set about formulating his own plan to get them to safety, whether or not Grayson liked it.

"You gotta stay really quiet now," Grayson whispered as he stopped walking. "I'm pretty sure Sammy isn't with your brother and that I can find him before Sammy finds us, but any noise will get us caught. You got that, Professor?"

Charlie swallowed nervously and nodded. He frowned as he pondered his student's last words. Pretty sure he isn't with him? Thinks he can find Don? Has he been here before? Or in a similar situation? He started to open his mouth but quickly clamped it shut as Grayson shook his head. I guess I'll have to ask him later…. assuming there is a later.

He focused on the younger man's back as Grayson led Charlie deeper and deeper into the building. The professor tried to slow the pounding of his heart and his breathing, certain the sounds had to be loud enough to draw Sammy's attention. He was so wrapped up in his efforts that he almost ran smack into Grayson's back, not realizing the other man had stopped. Grayson looked over his shoulder and nodded, a bitter, sad version of a half-smile on his face. The student cocked his head and Charlie leaned around him, peering into a large, dark, open area. As his eyes became accustomed to the lack of light Charlie's heart froze. There, along the wall no more than ten or twenty feet ahead, lay his brother. He started to rush forward, stopping only when Grayson grabbed his arm.

'Let me check it out,' Grayson mouthed silently. Despite his overwhelming desire to run to Don's side, Charlie saw the wisdom in the younger man's words and reluctantly nodded.

Charlie held his breath as Grayson crept forward, his eyes scanning all around him as searched for any sign of Sammy. He was suddenly struck by how adept Grayson seemed to be at this – entering a building with a great deal of stealth while keeping a handgun readied at his side – and found himself wondering if his student really was the innocent, good kid he had thought he was. Charlie pushed the thought from his mind – he needed to focus on Don right now – as Grayson reached the door across the room and made sure the coast was clear. The student turned toward Charlie and gestured. Charlie was off like a shot, running as fast as possible without making too much noise. It still seemed to take far too long to reach his injured brother's side.

"Don," he called softly as he placed his fingers against his brother's neck. Thank God – a pulse. "Don, can you hear me?" He frowned as the injured man remained unresponsive, lightly stroking his bloody temple as he checked the wound. His fingers brushed over a jagged tear and swollen lump, the action finally eliciting a noise from his brother. "Don," he whispered as loudly as he dared with Sammy's whereabouts unknown. "Open your eyes for me."

"You need to speed things up, Professor."

Charlie looked up at Grayson and shook his head. "He's not waking up." He lifted the handcuff chain off of the hook in the wall and gently lowered Don's arms before rolling him onto his side. "Help me get him out of here."

"No."

Charlie had already eased his brother upright against the wall. Whipping his head around, he asked, "What?"

"You came here for your brother but I came here for mine." Grayson shrugged under Charlie's wounded gaze. "I don't intend to let Sammy hurt you two any more… but I don't intend to leave here without him, either. Which means you'd best get your brother out of here before I move on."

"Grayson-"

"This isn't up for debate," the younger man cut him off. "You have about three minutes before I walk out of here."

"Where do I go?"

Grayson tossed the car keys to him, causing Charlie to wince at the loud jingling noise they made. "Back to the car. You can take him to a hospital."

"And you?"

Grayson gave the professor another sad smile. "Sammy's my ride now." Seeing the determined look in Charlie's eyes, he shook his head. "Go, Professor. I can't promise to keep you safe if Sammy were to walk in right now. Get out of here and take your brother home."

Charlie swallowed nervously as he focused on Don's face, lightly slapping the cheek that wasn't covered in blood. "Don! Come on, bro – you've got to wake up for me." With a frustrated sigh he abandoned the attempt, opting instead to grab him under the arms and haul him to his feet. Charlie marveled at how easy the task seemed – adrenaline, he thought – but soon found himself leaning against the wall with Don sandwiched between his arms as he panted for air. He glanced over his shoulder at Grayson who made no move to help and Charlie found himself, not for the first time, regretting that he'd ever responded to that text message.

"One minute," his student calmly announced.

Charlie studied his brother and tried to figure out the best way for them to proceed. He knew he could never haul Don's dead weight all the way to the car so he took a deep breath and slapped his brother as hard as he could across his uninjured cheek, immensely relieved when the other man's eyelids fluttered to half-mast. "Don!"

The agent mumbled unintelligibly as he struggled to focus on his brother.

"Listen, bro," Charlie whispered as he lightly patted Don's cheek. "I'm going to slide my arm under yours and help you walk, okay? I know it's going to hurt like crazy with your arms cuffed behind you but we have to get out of here right now."

Don made a movement that might have been a nod.

"Good," Charlie praised as he carefully adjusted his grip. "Let's go." He took a step forward and had to hang on tight to keep Don on his feet. "Concentrate, Don." He took another step, prepared for his brother's unsteadiness and quickly countered as Don listed to one side. The more they moved the better Charlie became at anticipating which direction the injured man would likely topple. They reached the doorway through which he and Grayson had entered and he heard his student's quiet voice.

"Bye, Professor. Thanks for all you did for me."

Charlie looked over his shoulder but Grayson was gone, disappeared from the doorway and his life forever.

--

"Come on."

Desperation in the anxious voice pierced the fog of pain clouding Don's mind, pulling him up from the depths of his stupor. I know that voice…

"We have to move, Don."

No, Charlie, he thought as his stomach threatened to revolt against the rough, unpredictable jarring. Moving is bad. Definitely bad.

"You're doing good, bro, but we have to move faster."

Lay off, Charlie. It's not like we're late for school or something.

"Don, please."

He hadn't heard that tone in years, not since the last time Charlie had been terrified of a school bully and sought his big brother's protection. Hate to tell you, Buddy, but I doubt I could fend a fifth grader off of you right now. Maybe if we rest a minute…

"No!" A sharp yank on his bound arms elicited a grunt of pain from Don, leaving him panting for breath and wondering when Charlie had become a sadist. "Oh God, I'm so sorry." A shaky hand awkwardly patted his shoulder – an apology of sorts from the younger man. "It's just… we can't stop now, Don. We have to keep moving."

The agent tried to tell him it was okay – that he forgave him – but he couldn't get enough air in his lungs to vocalize the words.

"Shh," Charlie soothed as he gently tugged Don to get him moving again. "We'll rest as soon as we can."

The injured man nodded – okay, his head lolled forward – and he tried to get his leaden limbs to cooperate with him as his brother picked up the pace. He had no idea why Charlie was so frantic for them to keep moving but he vaguely remembered that something pretty bad had happened to him. If I could just remember what it was…

After a few moments Don could feel a change in the air as it rushed by his face and the previous echoing sounds of their movements faded away. Outside, his sluggish mind deduced. The realization seemed to drive home the fact that it was chilly and wet and he couldn't suppress a sudden shiver.

"I'll get you warmed up soon," Charlie told him. "Not much further now."

Don bit back a moan as his stomach twisted and he knew he wouldn't be able to swallow this wave of sickness down. Even as his brother's muttered 'Damn' echoed in his ears, Don felt himself being lowered to his knees. A gentle arm wrapped around his midsection and a cool hand braced his forehead. Grateful beyond words, he let himself sag into Charlie's strong grip as he emptied the contents of his stomach. He grew weaker and weaker as each spasm wracked his frame, increasing the throbbing in his head until he wished he could pass out to escape the pain.

"Stay with me, Don."

I'm trying, Buddy. A loud roaring sound began to grow around him, drowning out his brother's pleading voice. Without thinking, Don shook his head to clear it and immediately gasped at the sharp stabbing pain that lanced through his skull.

"Don?" Charlie called, his panicked voice sounding a million miles away. "Don, no… stay with me. Don!"

Despite his best efforts to obey his brother's command, the agent slumped in the younger man's grip and let the world around him fade away.

--

Charlie breathed an enormous sigh of relief at the pulse that beat under his fingertips. Just passed out, he thought. Not dead. "Don't scare me like that, Don," he whispered to the unconscious man in his arms.

He looked up and squinted through the rain that was falling heavier by the minute and frowned as he saw how far away the clump of trees that concealed Grayson's car was. I'll never be able to drag Don that far. And I'm not leaving him here to go get the car – not while Sammy may still be on the loose. He silently studied his surroundings and tried to come up with a game plan. Knowing it wouldn't work for long, Charlie decided his only option was to try and drag Don to the car.

Charlie carefully turned his brother onto his back and slid his hands under Don's arms. Offering up a quick prayer that the other men was out of it enough not to feel too much pain, Charlie lifted Don up and began pulling him over the thickening mud. His progress was agonizingly slow and his muscles screamed in protest at dragging his brother's dead weight but Charlie kept at it, deathly afraid that Sammy would emerge from the building at any minute, intent on killing them despite whatever argument Grayson presented. His curly hair became plastered to his head as the rain steadily fell, blinding him to the rock half-buried in the ground next to Don's ankle. As the injured man's heel snagged on it, the sudden jerking motion threw Charlie off-balance and sent him tumbling into the mud. He quickly scrambled to his feet and grabbed hold of Don again before resuming his torturous journey to the hidden vehicle.

At least an inch of rain and a handful of pulled muscles later, Charlie found himself leaning against the car and trying to catch his breath. He held Don propped against his side as he dug into his pocket for the keys… and found nothing.

"No!" he exclaimed in frustration as he clawed at his other pockets only to get the same result. I know Grayson gave them to me and I put them in my pocket. Where in the world…? His face fell as it hit him – the mud. They must have dropped when he fell. He peered through the trees at the path through which they'd come and knew any kind of search would be a lost cause. Besides, now that he had Don back he was reluctant to leave his side even for a second, terrified some new harm might come to him.

Like he's safe just sitting out in the open, in the pouring rain, waiting for someone to find us, Charlie thought angrily. The car would be the first place someone would think to look. I have to find us a place to hide. Charlie scrutinized the area around them before deciding that the clump of trees was his best hope. Gritting his teeth he hauled Don's limp form away from the vehicle and into the relative shelter of the mini-forest. He glanced around until he found the driest section of ground and sat, hugging Don's soaked form against his chest.

Charlie quietly studied his brother's face in the gloom of the evening and hoped the head injury was nowhere near as bad as it looked. He suspected Don's inability to walk very well or stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time meant that it was pretty serious, however. Carefully, Charlie lifted the hem of his wet tee-shirt and wiped at the blood as though that could wipe away the severity of Don's injury, too. Soon all that remained visible was the jagged cut and swollen lump just next to his brother's hairline, but Charlie didn't really feel any better as he realized how pale Don's complexion was. Had he really lost that much blood?

"I'm sorry, Don," Charlie whispered as he held his brother close, leaning over to shield him from the rain. "I should have stayed out of this like you told me to, but… I really thought Grayson was a good kid." He blinked back tears as his brother remained unnaturally still. "He told me he just wanted to help his big brother and all I could think… when you said you were joining the FBI… God, Don… I let my emotions, my memories cloud my judgment." Don suddenly shivered and Charlie drew him closer, vigorously rubbing a hand along his upper arm to generate warmth. "You can't leave me, Don. I screwed up and I'm sorry. I… I got here as fast as I could."

A gunshot shattered the evening air, followed closely by another, and Charlie's heart froze in his chest. "No," he breathed, unconsciously shaking his head. "Grayson…" Had Sammy just shot his own brother? Had he threatened Grayson and caused the younger man to fire back in self-defense? No, I don't think he would ever shoot his big brother. Charlie looked down at Don and frowned. No, because I could never shoot mine, even if it was to save myself. Oh God, that means Sammy must have…

"No," he repeated, his voice echoing in the damp evening air. Quiet! If Sammy did shoot him and is now looking for us… Charlie willed his breathing to slow down and tried to convince himself that it really wasn't as loud as it seemed. He became aware of whispering rustles and soft splashes as the rain fell through the leaves overhead and onto the forest floor around them. Too much noise, he worried. How am I going to be able to hear him if he comes for us?

Something rustled behind him and Charlie whipped his head around to find… nothing. The rain? He didn't think so – this noise had been louder, more defined than raindrops… Hadn't it? He strained to listen as his eyes darted back and forth, but could hear no other sounds. Charlie slowly turned back toward the building and resumed his surveillance. Seconds later he heard yet another noise. Charlie tried desperately to identify the sound and its source. Footsteps in the mud? He couldn't be sure, but it seemed to come from the direction of the car. Again, the professor craned his neck to look – and again there was nothing. You're going to drive yourself crazy, he scolded mentally as he tried to get his heart rate down out of the realm of light speed.

A quiet mumble drew his attention downward and he saw Don's eyelids fluttering. His lax body tensed as he tried to shift in the younger man's arms. "Hush, Don," Charlie whispered, afraid the muttering might draw attention to their hiding spot. "We have to keep quiet." Don stilled and Charlie held his brother even closer. Please stay asleep, Charlie begged soundlessly, torn between wanting Don to recover from his injury and his own fear at being discovered.

The squishing noise came again, sounding much closer than before. Charlie swallowed nervously as he turned his head, immediately freezing at the sight of a pair of boots in the mud before him. No, God no… He kept his gaze fixed on the boots, afraid to identify the wearer.

"Professor."

Charlie closed his eyes, gripping his brother tightly as he fought back tears. He'd never been so relieved to hear Billy Cooper's voice.

TBC