A/N: I really can't believe that no one has thought of this before! I forget EVERY time I watch the movie that they aren't brothers. I mean, really, Abby even words her "you're that family with the conspiracy theory" line as if she's talking to both of them. It's hard for me to remember that Riley's just…Riley.

P.S. - Please don't kill Patrick. He has his reasons. He just hasn't chosen to share them with his sons.

Binding
Chapter 2: Family II

Ben settled into his over stuffed couch with a contented sigh. There were some perks to only being able to shop at second hand stores that, in Ben's opinion, out-weighed all the negatives. Like the fact that all his furniture had already been broken in and worn in all the right ways by a butt that was not his own. Never did he have to deal with pushy sales men who would convince you that the comfortable couch on the show floor would be what you got, only to find out the one brought to your house was no where near as squishy. He could just sink into his couch the first time without having to go through that awkward still-factory-starched phase.

Having now relished in his simple comforts for the appropriate length of time, the treasure hunter reached lazily over for his pizza box—fresh from the fridge—and the remote that was sitting next to it on his second-hand coffee table.

It was a cold and stormy Friday night, with finals for the fall semester still three glorious weeks away. He had all weekend to complete the homework necessary to obtain his second degree, and right now left over pizza and whatever TV movie he could find sounded much more appealing—no matter what his little brother believed Ben DID watch things besides The History Channel.

Just as Ben turned on the TV and started surfing for something that looked vaguely interesting, there was a sharp rapping on his front door. He put down his remote down and looked across the room in confusion. He wasn't expecting anyone. Most of his college friends had other plans for the evening, and those that didn't always called before dropping in on him.

There was a second knock, this one louder than before. Ben decided that any sales person crazy enough to be out in this weather deserved to at least be acknowledged, and stood to make his way just close enough to the door to be faintly heard by whomever was standing on the other side. "Who is it?"

"Ben?" Ben froze, hearing the voice he would recognize anywhere. "Open up! It's me!"

"Riley?" Now the treasure hunter began to move quickly, pushing his blue arm chair out of his way so he could reach the front door faster.

His little brother was standing on the other side, dripping wet and shivering. He was most inappropriately dressed for the pouring rain and freezing temperatures, wearing only a ragged pair of jeans, tennis shoes, a Star Wars tee-shirt, and a backpack slung over one shoulder.

Ben opened his mouth to say…something…but Riley beat him to it. "Ben, I don't know whether I believe the treasure is real or not, but I believe in you and that's enough for me."

The older man frowned in confusion, having no idea what kind of opening speech that was. It was certainly uncharacteristic of Riley, who would normally have some smart-aleck comment about Ben leaving his guests standing out in the cold. He stored it away for later and instead reached out, grabbing Riley by the wrist and dragging the shivering young man inside, "get in here before you catch your death."

"I'm sorry for not c-calling first. Th-this was k-kind of l-last minute," the eighteen-year-old managed to get out through his chattering teeth, looking with mild interest at the puddle he was already dripping all over his older brother's carpet.

"You don't have to call to drop in on me, baby brother." Ben fully expected the usual protest from Riley about how Ben couldn't keep calling him that since he wasn't a baby any longer. All he got was a weak sort of half smile and more shivering.

Ben took the backpack from his younger brother and gave him a firm shove towards the bathroom. "Go get in the shower, squirt."

"But I've already had my shower today," Riley complained, though he moved in the indicated direction with little hesitation. "Really, Ben, how much cleaner do you need me to be?"

He chose not to comment on that, knowing that Riley knew he was intended to try and warm up with a hot shower, and if you fed him with attention he would be unable to resist making more comments. Instead, he left to go dig out some clothes and blankets for his brother, trusting that Riley would know where to go. This wasn't the first time his brother had come to visit him in this apartment. It was just the first time he'd suddenly appeared without at least a day's warning.

He dumped the backpack onto his bed and opened it quickly to see if Riley had brought any clothes with him. It turned out he had, but they were useless as the two pairs of clothes were just as soaked as the pack they'd been in. The only thing dry was Riley's laptop, which he'd had the foresight to put in one the waterproof bags he'd created just to put his treasured computer in.

Nothing in there gave him any clue as to why Riley was there, or what he was going to do with him, so Ben simply scooped the clothes up and tossed them in the dryer acrossed the hall before wandering back into his room and looking through his own clothes.

He flipped on the heater and pulled out a pair of pajama pants that Ben was a bit too tall for and a long sleeved shirt. The shirt wouldn't fit Riley quite right, but it would do for now. He put those on the heater—along with a pair of socks—to try and warm them up by the time Riley was done with his shower. He then took the laptop out of the bag and set it on the desk. He flipped it open, to check for water damage just in case, and frowned at the envelope he saw tucked between the screen and the keyboard.

It was one of the letters he's sent to his younger brother. He picked it up and inspected the postage stamp, confirming that it was the most recent one.

It was half-amusing, as Riley always teased him about writing snail mail letters instead of sending an e-mail, and half-confusing for the same reason. Some how, he was sure of it, this letter had something to do with Riley's sudden appearance on his doorstep at eleven o' clock at night.

Ben picked up the letter and the clothes, moving towards where he could still hear the water running. He poked his head in, feeling his skin start to prune the moment in came in contact with the steam. "You dethawed yet?"

"Nearly," came the response. Riley's tone was impossible to read, but at least his teeth weren't chattering any more.

"Take as long as you need. I've got some clothes set out on the counter here for you."

"Thanks."

Ben laid the clothes on the counter just as he said he would, and made a retreat towards the kitchen with the letter still in his hand. Once there he set about putting the pot on to boil for some hot chocolate. Riley would want coffee, but Ben tried to discourage that habit in his still growing brother. Riley was small enough with the extra caffeine stunting his growth.

He hopped onto the counter and pulled the letter out of the envelope, justifying to himself that it wasn't snooping since he was the one that had written it. He was just refreshing his memory was all.

A quick reading told him that there wasn't anything special about this letter in particular. It was fairly standard, discussing his week, his new theory that Charlotte may not be a person but an object of some sort, and the standard invitation for Riley to join in his search when ever he wanted now that he was old enough.

He never expected Riley to really take him up on the offer. His little brother had an opinion on the Templar Treasure that was a kind of middle ground between Ben's and their father's. Riley believed that there may have in deed been a treasure, but its size and importance had been greatly exaggerated in rumors to distract the British from the war, and it had since been spent by the US Government. He though Ben's search was futile and teased him about it constantly. As much as it bothered him sometimes, Riley's approach was certainly preferable to their father's open hostility to any and all things treasure related.

Ben frowned, remembering what Riley had said. I don't know whether I believe the treasure is real or not, but I believe in you and that's enough for me. Not only had Riley, not Ben, been the one to bring the treasure up, but his younger brother had also stated that it was possible he believed in it. Everything he'd learned about his brother the last sixteen years told him that this just wasn't right. Riley was not the kind of person to rush into something without having made up his mind about it one way or the other, and even less the kind of person to change his mind once he had reached a conclusion.

There was a piece to this puzzle missing. Probably the most important piece. Something had to have given Riley a push to come and join him in his treasure hunt…as that's what he intended to do if Ben was reading into what he'd said correctly.

He tore his eyes away from the letter when he heard the teenage stumbling down the hall. Riley looked better after his shower, with some color having returned to his face, and he was currently rolling up the sleeves on the shirt so they wouldn't be hanging over his fingers. "I'm pretty sure you'll be out of hot water for the next year."

"We'll just have to bathe the old fashioned way then," Ben smiled, pulling down two mugs from the cupboard and placing them on the counter.

"Everything with you is old fashioned," Riley muttered, flopping down on the couch and grabbing the remote from where Ben had dropped it. "Including your channels, from the look of it."

Ben rolled his eyes, scooping the cocoa into the mugs and adding the down boiling water before joining his brother on the couch. "It's not my fault that my basic cable doesn't meet your picky technological tastes."

His little brother took the mug offered him without even a breath of complaint, a sure sign that things were not right because he ALWAYS complained, and took a long sip.

Ben raised an eyebrow in surprise, putting his mug on the table. "We need to talk, Riley."

"Can't it wait until tomorrow," the teenager muttered down to his mug, swirling it idly back and forth.

"Sorry, kiddo," Ben reached over and took the mug from him, setting it on the table next to his own, "but I don't think it can."

"If you don't want me here, I can leave." Riley still wasn't looking at him, something Ben found more than a little unsettling.

"You know that's not what I was saying. I just want to know why, that's all. You probably picked the worst night ever for traveling. You'll catch pneumonia again running around in weather like this."

Riley gave a one armed shrug in response, curling up on himself slightly. Ben went over to the hall closet, retrieving his heaviest extra blanket and dropping it on the teen. Riley smiled at him gratefully as Ben settled down for a long conversation, putting his feet up on the coffee table. "Let's start from the beginning. How did you get here?"

"Took a bus, and let me tell you, it's a long and incredibly boring ride. My laptop battery even died on me halfway here. It was awful and unfair."

"You walked from the bus station?" He chose not to address that Riley had ridden all the way down to MIT from Philadelphia in the middle of the night. He could lecture him about how stupid that was later. "I could have come to pick you up. Why didn't you call me?"

Riley simply shrugged again, pulling his blanket tighter around him as if it could protect him somehow. Making himself as small as possible when he was sure he was going to get in trouble was an old habit of his, and Ben braced himself mentally for whatever Riley had to tell him. "First off, I didn't think your truck would make it all that way."

Ben scowled, giving his brother a playful shove. His clunker of a truck that he'd had since high school was just one more item on the long list of things Riley loved to tease him about. "And?"

"And…well…I didn't have any money to call with. I didn't exactly have a chance to grab much before I left."

"How'd you get the bus fare?" The under-lying question being 'why did you take the bus at all', which Ben was certain he made clear by the tone of his voice.

Riley, though he was certain his brother had gotten it, chose to ignore it. "Some lady gave it to me, once I assured her that I wasn't running away from somewhere. I've got her address, somewhere, so I can send the fare back."

This wasn't getting them anywhere, and only making Ben feel more sick to his stomach. It was time for different tactics. Namely, giving Riley no other options. "Riley, what happened? If you wanted to come why didn't Dad come with you? Or at least give you a ride?"

Riley's gaze dropped to the floor as he pulled the blanket over his head like a hood. "I really don't feel like talking about it."

"Riley…"

With a very put upon sigh, the teenager rolled his eyes up to meet his older brother's. "I…Dad and I had a fight. About…stuff."

"Me." Ben supplied, swallowing the sick feeling that was rising up his throat. He'd always tried not to get Riley in the middle of the arguments at home, but his father seemed to think that since Riley was part of the family he had to be part of all of it.

"Yeah," the teenager winced, as if realizing that might not have been the gentlest way to put that. "Kind of. He said you were throwing away all your potential and you…can we talk about this later? Please, Ben?"

One look at the exhaustion in those blue eyes, and Ben felt his resolve to get this talked about melt away. If he didn't want to talk about it now, he didn't have to, but they would eventually—the older Gates promised himself that much.

Riley relaxed only a little at his brother's nod, and took a steadying breath before speaking again. "Ben, can I ask you something?"

"Sure thing, Riley."

"Can I move in with you?"

The elder man froze, his fists suddenly clenching on his lap. Maybe he shouldn't have allowed a deferment so soon. "This isn't just a visit, is it?"

Brown bangs fell down into Riley's eyes as he shook his head. "I had to make a choice. He said if I walked out that door, it wouldn't…wouldn't be open for me to come back…"

Ben unclenched his fists and wrapped his brother in a tight hug, pretending not to notice that sudden dampness on his shoulder wasn't all from Riley's still dripping hair. "Of course you can."