I honestly can't remember if I replied to people's reviews this time but I'm pretty sure I didn't, so thanks to all of you who reviewed! Here is part 8.

There are some pieces of dialogue in this chapter taken directly from the season 2 episode "Rampage" (although I'm only like 75% sure that's what episode it's from).

As always, thanks for reading, enjoy this chapter, and please leave some feedback!

Chapter 8

6:14 a.m.

Peeking down from the stairway, Alan let out a quiet sigh. The entire Brooks family, sans Robin, was asleep in the living room. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that his hosting skills probably weren't what they usually were. He'd forgotten to offer them blankets to sleep with, or even maybe one of the two unused beds upstairs. It simply hadn't occurred to him four hours ago when he'd noticed Robin's sister asleep on the sofa and her parents slouched side by side on the couch.

It wasn't like him, he knew, to slouch off on being cordial to houseguests. He'd simply been too exhausted and shell-shocked the previous night to really think about such things. And then, somewhere around 3 am, Robin had forced him to go try and get some sleep. He'd complied, but had lain in bed for over an hour before sleep finally took hold. Then he'd woken up around five, and hadn't been able to fall asleep again. So now, he wandered back downstairs to find Robin's parents and sister asleep, and Robin nowhere to be found. Wherever she was, Alan figured, she probably needed some time alone.

Stifling a yawn, Alan found his way into the kitchen. Almost immediately he noticed that all the coffee mugs they'd used the night before had been cleaned and put away. In fact, the whole kitchen looked cleaner than it had three hours ago.

He cast a glance out the window and found Robin on the bench in the backyard by the koi pond, asleep. She looked so uncomfortable, but like him, she had to be incredibly exhausted after an endless night of worry and fear.

Time to put on yet another pot of coffee. He'd almost lost track of just how many pots he'd made in the last twelve hours or however long it was that they'd been at the house. If Don were here, he'd be making fun of his father for being even more of a caffeine addict than he was.

Of course, if Don were here, there'd be no need for Alan's excessive coffee drinking. Alan still couldn't fathom how things could have gone so horribly wrong. Of course, by now he knew that some madman had kidnapped his son, looking for revenge. A lump formed in Alan's throat. He didn't even know whether or not his oldest boy was still alive. What if he wasn't? What if Don was lying dead at the bottom of a cliff somewhere, his body mangled from a fall from the top?

Oh, come on. There was no way to know that was the case. Don could also be very much alive, missing home and trying to figure out how to make it out of his situation. Alan decided he'd rather think about that possibility. Oh, how he'd smother and hover over his son when he came home. He'd cook his boy pancakes for breakfast, a rib-eye steak for dinner. Don would of course complain about the incessant attention he'd receive, insisting he was okay and that he could take care of himself, and Alan of course planned to not listen.

The coffeepot sputtered and spat, signaling a completed brew. He carelessly poured two cups, spilling some in the process. Quickly, he wiped it up before adding sweetener to his own cup and cream to the other.

He left one cup on the counter while he went to open the back door, then returned to take both mugs outside with him. Slowly, so as not to spill, he crossed the backyard and sat down on the edge of the bench Robin was awkwardly curled up on.

Alan reached out to gently shake the woman's shoulder. "Robin," he whispered.

"Don?" Robin whispered back, her eyes still closed. Alan's heart broke at the word. Her eyes opened.

"No," Alan breathed. "Just me. You look incredibly uncomfortable there, so I thought I'd wake you up and see if you wanted some coffee before you became permanently stuck in that position."

Robin laughed quietly as she sat up. "Good call. This is already less than comfortable. How about you? Did you sleep?"

Alan scoffed. "Hardly. Sleeping seems to be a lost cause, hence the coffee." He handed her a mug, which she accepted with a small smile.

"Any word?" she asked. Her tone was hopeful but skeptical.

He shook his head. "I haven't heard from anyone since before I went to bed. I hope it means they're all just too busy making progress and that they'll call us later."

"Maybe," she agreed half-heartedly.

"He could still be okay," he said. "I know it doesn't seem likely, but he still could be fine. We can't let go of that possibility. We have to hold onto it tight, or we'll never make it through this."

She looked at him knowingly. "I know. I just can't stand this not knowing one way or the other, you know?"

He nodded slowly. He knew exactly what she meant. The uncertainty had long ago settled in his gut like a lead ball. He'd never been so anxious in his life.

Alan watched Robin sip her coffee, noticing the way her hand shook with nerves.

"Maybe if we don't hear anything by 7 o'clock we'll call Charlie," he suggested. "I'm sure they're not sharing every single detail with us, just the really important stuff. And I don't know about you, but I want to know everything. So we'll just call and tell them we can't sit here not hearing anything anymore."

Robin smiled. "That's sounds like a really good plan, Alan."

6:53 a.m.

"I really can't take you looking at your watch anymore."

"Sorry, sorry."

Don smiled at the memory. Megan Reeves had been one of few who weren't afraid to call him out on his frequent watch-checking nervous habit. He'd been doing it a lot the past few hours—there wasn't much else to do while he sat in a dark basement, tied to a pole.

It was too bad Megan had long ago planned a trip overseas for this weekend and therefore hadn't been able to make it to the wedding, Don thought. But then again, he hadn't even been able to make it to the wedding, so he was one to talk.

But although they had sporadically been in touch and Don had heard a lot about Megan through Larry, it would have been nice to see her. She'd always been a good friend to him.

As it was, he still had a lot of good friends at his wedding, mostly from his old team. He wondered what they were doing now. Were they all working to look for him? Surely they would be. How much did they know? How close were they to finding him?

And how was his family? They were probably worried sick. Was Charlie helping? Don hoped so. As long as Charlie didn't lose it, Don figured his little brother would be useful in this situation. How likely was it that Charlie had the ability to think clearly right now? Don had seen his brother almost literally drown in a sea of numbers, most recently when Amita had been kidnapped. But maybe Charlie could do it. Maybe Charlie would figure out where he was.

He could only hope. Using normal investigative techniques, it wasn't all that likely that the FBI would find him in time. But Don had confidence in his brother. Charlie always seemed to have a mathematical formula for everything. If anyone could find Don, it would be Charlie.

At long last, the basement door squeaked open. All thought faded from Don's mind as he quickly snapped into focus. This could be his chance.

Through the light filtering in from outside the door, Don could just make out Shore's smug expression.

"Agent Eppes," Shore greeted with a sarcastically pleasant tone. "I hope you slept well last night. I know I sure did. I don't often stay in cabins; I much prefer camping outside in a tent when I come up to this area. But that bed upstairs was surprisingly comfortable. I'm so glad a buddy of mine from high school happens to own this cabin and is letting me stay here for awhile. It's so perfectly suited to my needs."

Needs, huh? Like holding a federal agent prisoner?

"What exactly do you intend to do with me, Shore?" Don asked. "Are you just going to make me sit here until you decide if you want to kill me or not?"

Shore laughed a hearty laugh. "Of course not! First of all, I've already decided to kill you. But I've been waiting to do this for such a long time. I just want to take it slow and enjoy it, you know, like a big piece of chocolate cake. You wouldn't want to eat a large, rich slice of chocolate cake too fast, would you? No, you'd get a stomachache. Instead, you want to savor the cake."

That was certainly a new one. Don was pretty sure of all the death threats he'd ever received, that his demise had never been compared to a dessert before.

"Okay," Don mumbled. "So, what, you plan to torture me first? Believe me; you're not all that creative."

Shore laughed again. "Well, that's all right. I'm not exactly going for creativity here. My only goal here is to avenge my brother's death, Agent Eppes. I don't care if my methods have been used before."

"Look, you said it yourself before," Don started. "You said that your brother had made a few mistakes. You said you didn't agree with all of his decisions. What about this? Isn't this just as bad as what he did?"

"This is different." Shore's tone had turned cold. "This is much different, Agent Eppes. I have a good justification here. You have a younger brother. How would you feel if someone gunned him down just because he made a few bad choices in life?"

Don's stomach twisted even just thinking about that, but he forced the awful feeling aside. "Yeah, I do have a brother. Imagine what this will do to him. You know how it feels, right? Imagine the pain my brother will have to go through if you kill me. Do you really want to do that to another brother?"

Just like that, Shore's face twisted back into a look of strange amusement. "You're right. Of course you're right, Agent Eppes. Silly me, what was I thinking? Of course I have to let you go now. I'll even give you a lift home and we'll just go our separate ways and that will be that!" Shore let out a short, sardonic laugh. "Did you actually think that was going to work?"

Don simply glared. "No, I really didn't. I just want you think about what you're doing here."

"Good point," Shore said, smiling condescendingly down at him. "Now that I'm thinking about it harder, I realize something important. If I wanted to get true revenge here, perhaps I should have just taken that brother of yours, so that you could feel what I have to feel."

Don's blood ran cold. He knew Shore wasn't being entirely serious, and was just trying to get a rise out of Don, but still. Obviously the man had contemplated taking that other route to get to him at some point. Obviously Shore had considered taking Charlie before. Shore had proven right away, in the parking lot of Don's apartment building, that he knew all about Don's family. Don had been extremely lucky that his captor had decided only to take him.

Shore must have read Don's thoughts clearly. "Don't worry, Agent Eppes. I didn't see a need to involve anyone in this directly other than you. Your family is safe, especially if you don't do anything stupid."

There was sincerity in Shore's eyes that Don believed in. Hopefully his faith wasn't misguided. Hopefully. He was staking his family's lives on it.

"So," Don said as casually as he could. There had been an awkward enough long silence that he figured it was now or never. "How's a guy supposed to relieve himself down here?"

Shore smiled with that same weird, amused look yet again. Don waited for his response, unsure of how to interpret the other man's facial expression.

"Well, I suppose I can't have you relieving yourself down here. That buddy of mine who owns this place? He doesn't know about all the fun we're having here, and it's probably best if it stays that way. So I can't be having you stink up the place. I best show you the toilet."

"Gee, thanks," Don replied sarcastically as Shore unlocked the handcuffs behind him. He held back a groan, as the sudden shift in position caused his arm muscles to protest.

"Stand up," Shore ordered. Don somehow noticed through the darkness that Shore's gun had made a sudden appearance, now awfully close to his face. Don stood up, his head spinning a little. This was what he'd been waiting for. Shore recuffed his hands behind his back.

Slowly, Shore led Don back up the rickety old stairs to the main level of the cabin. In the early morning light, Don could see that it was mostly one room. The bathroom was tucked away in a corner next to the kitchen area. There were two doors to the outside; one in the kitchen and one directly across from it.

Shore opened the door to the bathroom, which Don was slightly dismayed to find had no windows. His captor stood there expectantly waiting for Don to enter.

Don raised his eyebrows. "Uh, you're not expecting me to take care of business with my hands behind my back, are you?"

Shore chuckled. "My apologies, Agent Eppes." Don was getting a little tired of Shore's sarcastic, fake politeness. But he was uncuffed, and Shore followed him into the bathroom, gun trained on the back of Don's neck.

Don stopped, turning to look at Shore again. "I can't at least have some privacy?"

Shore regarded him carefully. "Well, I didn't really want to watch you, and there aren't any windows in here, so I suppose I can wait right outside the door. I'll have the gun pointed at the door, so you better not try anything. Let me know first before you try to come back out. If you surprise me, I'll of course have to shoot you."

With that, the door shut and Don was alone in the small bathroom, exactly where he wanted to be.

TBC