What if?

Part 2

By: Montez

Authors note: Oh God, I hope Fraidycat doesn't hate me forever, I forgot to give her a HUGE THANK YOU for again being my wonderful Beta on this story. Please forgive me J Hope you all are enjoying my alternate scene from 'Breaking Point' Thanks for reading.

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The ambulance ride was blessedly uneventful. Don sat staring at his little brother's pale face under the oxygen mask and the unnatural stillness of his body. He half-listened to the messages relayed back and forth between the medic and the hospital. Don had subconsciously worked his hand into Charlie's, squeezing it ever-so-gently, just to see if Charlie would return the pressure. He didn't.

Don's mind replayed the phone call; the noises of what he now knew to be the truck ramming the back of Charlie's car, Charlie's whispered plea, the sound of the gunshot. A terrible guilt started to descend in Don's soul, the guilt of his brother needing him and not being able to reach him in time. Don was jarred from his thoughts by the jolting stop of the ambulance and the unwelcome feeling of Charlie's hand slipping from his as the stretcher was pulled from the back. Don had to jog to keep up with it as it was rushed through the emergency entrance.

Don followed until it passed through a second set of doors, where he was stopped by a nurse who gently laid her hand on his arm, "Sir, you can't come back here. We'll take good care of him. Someone will be out to talk to you soon." She gave him her practiced, reassuring smile.

"That's my brother!" Don protested, his eyes pleading with the nurse.

Again she tried to reassure him. "We'll take care of him. What's your brother's name?"

"Charlie. Charlie Eppes." Don looked longingly down the hall, through the door the nurse held ajar.

"Does Charlie have any allergies?"

"No…no." Don met her eyes again.

She motioned toward the waiting room. "If you'll just take a seat." With that she turned and went through the doors.

Don watched as the doors closed slowly, and a terrifying thought filled his mind, ' could that have been the last time I ever see my little brother alive?' As the two-inch thick faux-wood doors clicked shut Don took a step toward them, placing his hand flat against the surface. The overwhelming guilt of how he had talked to and treated his brother the last day-and-a-half, since the interview, weighed on his shoulders like a boulder.

Delores approached the young man standing at the trauma room doors. She was one of the senior citizen volunteers, drawn by the sadness his posture conveyed; the way he hung his head with his hand flat against the door. She recognized that posture instantly; it spoke of a family member feeling he had been forever separated from his loved one. She approached cautiously, gently touching Don's arm. "Honey, you really should come sit down. We don't want you blocking the doors." The soft comforting voice drew Don's attention. The desperation she saw in his eyes made a memory of her own flash in her mind.

"My brother," Don whispered as he allowed Delores to lead him to a row of chairs. Immediately he fell heavily onto one.

She looked at him as he put his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "Your little brother?" Delores asked quietly.

Don slowly nodded his head, his voice just above a whisper. "I let him down." Don opened his eyes revealing unshed tears.

"I'm sure that's not true," Delores replied as she patted his arm, taking a seat next to him. "Is there someone I can call for you, to come wait with you?"

Don shook his head as he spoke, "My team's getting my dad."

"Your team?" Don's lack of uniform made the comment somewhat puzzling.

As Don leaned forward he mumbled, "FBI." She nodded knowingly. She had seen enough law enforcement personnel in her time working at the hospital to know they instinctively took care of their own. As the young man placed his elbows on his knees, leaning his head down, his posture reminded her of a day nearly 20 years earlier, when she had walked into an emergency room to find her eldest son sitting in a similar position.

The day was forever burned into her mind; it was the day she had lost her baby boy. He had only been seventeen years old. Her son, Eric, had been in an automobile accident and her eldest son, Michael, was one of the first-responding firefighters on the scene. Once his crew realized who was in the vehicle, a couple of them had to hold Michael back while they had cut Eric out. Michael rode with his little brother to the hospital and the way the young man next to her was sitting was the same way her eldest was sitting when a couple of his crew had brought her to the hospital.

Pulling herself from her memory, Delores prayed for the young man next to her, hoping that his brother would be okay. No family should have to go through what hers had all those years ago. She further hoped that the guilt she saw in the young man's expression wouldn't be carried for the years her eldest had carried his. It had been that experience, and the kindness of a hospital volunteer who took care of her family during that time, that convinced her to turn her horrible loss into a positive by helping others in their desperate time. This is how she came to sitting next to Don Eppes, occasionally giving him a reassuring pat on the arm, as they quietly waited for word on his brother.

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David pulled Don's SUV into the drive of the Craftsman home to which he and the rest of Don's team had always been warmly welcomed. He was still struggling with how he was going to tell Alan what he needed to say. Alan's car was in the driveway, but the house was dark. David glanced at his watch, noting that it was nearly 10:30pm. "I hope he's still awake, I hate to wake him with this," David commented as Colby and he exited the truck and Colby rounded the front to join David. They both unconsciously straightened their suit coats as they approached the door.

Alan had been sitting in his favorite chair under the soft glow of the nearby reading lamp, working on his favorite cross-word puzzle book when he heard the familiar sound of his eldest son's vehicle pull into the driveway. Not giving it much thought, as he soon expected Don to come walking through the door, until he heard two doors slam closed. Alan had know Charlie had left earlier, he thought headed toward Don's office, but now thinking maybe he had gone to CalSci to work, as he had done the previous night.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knocking at the door. Confused, Alan, carrying his puzzle book with him, made his way to the door wondering why Donnie would be knocking.

David knocked, worried that maybe Alan was already in bed until he heard the shuffling behind the door and the sound of the dead-bolt being unlatched. The door opened and Alan saw two unexpected figures, "David? Colby?" Confusion crossed his face as the first tentacles of fear passed through his soul.

David responded first, "May we come in?"

"Oh yes, where are my manners, please." Alan stepped back and gestured for them to enter. "I could have sworn it was Donnie's truck I heard pull in. Could I get you both something to drink? If you're looking for Charlie he left a while ago." Alan turned slightly, taking a step toward the kitchen. He rattled on nervously, trying to fill the silence words instead of the unrelenting fear that threatened to overtake him.

"Mr. Eppes." Colby's gentle tone stopped Alan in his tracks. Still not wanting to let the younger men talk for fear of what they might be there to say. Alan, smiling nervously, correcting Colby.

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's 'Alan', Colby!"

"Mr. Eppes." This time it was David who addressed him. Alan allowed himself to hear the strain in their voices and the tense posture in which they each held themselves finally registered.

"David?" Alan could already feel the lead settling in his stomach as he spoke David's name. This was turning into one of those visits he had long-feared since the day Donnie had joined the FBI.

"There's been an accident…" David started. Both agents noticed that Alan had lost a shade of color, as his puzzle book and pen slipped from his hand, bouncing on the floor.

"Oh God, Donnie? Is Donnie okay?" Alan's shaking hands clasped in front of him.

"Mr. Eppes," David was trying to stay professional, to help control his own emotions of the situation, "Don's fine. It's Charlie, he was in a car accident. Don went with him to the hospital, he asked us to come take you to them."

David and Colby watched as relief flashed in Alan's eyes upon hearing Don was safe, only to be quickly replaced by disbelief when it finally registered in his mind that his other son was not. "Charlie? He's alright isn't he?"

"He was still unconscious when he left in the ambulance. Please Mr. Eppes, Alan, we should go." David tried to modulate his voice to convey urgency without adding to the worry already on Alan's face.

"Yes…" Alan seemed to become distracted, "I need to get my keys…" He patted his pockets, "My jacket." Alan's words stumbled as he reached for his glasses, still sitting on the bridge of his nose. He placed them on the table, turning to retrieve the needed items. David and Colby exchanged nervous glances; this wasn't the Alan they knew. This nervous, frightened man before them was nothing like the confident, sometimes imposing figure Alan could portray.

Within minutes the three men left the house. Colby pulled the door shut, making sure it was locked, then climbed into the SUV behind David as Alan took the passenger seat. It was silent for a few minutes as David backed from the driveway, but as they turned onto the main road David flipped on the lights and sirens of the vehicle. This startled Alan who quickly looked at David and Colby. "David?" Alan knew that David would not have done this unless Charlie was very seriously injured.

It was Colby's voice from the back that caused Alan to turn as far as the seatbelt would allow. "Alan," The use of his name, now, was not lost on Alan, and his blood ran cold in his veins. "We also have reason to believe Charlie may have been shot as well." In that moment Colby was thankful they hadn't told Alan this while they were all still standing in the house. Even in the darkened vehicle he could see the rest of the color drain form Alan's features, and he raised a shaking hand to his mouth.

"Shot?" Alan slowly turned back around and sat, staring out the front window, trying to process that his non-FBI son was not only hurt in an automobile accident but possibly shot as well.

David glanced at Colby in the rearview mirror and pressed a little harder on the gas peddle.

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Delores had stayed next to Don as his position hadn't changed, he was still leaning forward staring at the floor. It had been nearly 30 minutes since Charlie had been brought in and Don still had no word on his brother's condition. Don seemed oblivious to Delores's presence next to him, but from her own experience she knew on some level she was helping the young man next to her. She had been watching the entryway and as Alan, flanked by David and Colby, rushed in, the look of desperation on his face, told her this must be the father of the young man next to her, as well as the injured man being treated behind the trauma room doors. She stood, approaching Alan before he reached the desk.

"Mr. Eppes?" Alan turned, really beginning to hate his name, and was met by an elderly woman in a pink volunteers smock. He seemed to tower over the small woman, yet stood in gentle submission at the tone of sympathy and compassion in her voice. "I have one of your boys over here with me." She motioned toward Don's slumped figure; looking at the floor as he was, he had not noticed that his father had arrived. Alan rushed past her to reach his eldest.

Delores looked at the younger men who had followed the older one in and introduced herself, "I'm Delores Smith, a volunteer here. You must be 'the team'?" She gestured toward Don.

"Yes ma'm," David answered. "I'm Special Agent David Sinclair and this is Special Agent Colby Granger. Has there been any word on Charlie?"

Delores sadly shook her head, "I'm afraid not." She looked toward Don again, who seemed to have just realized his father was in front of him. The three watched as Don looked up into his father's face. Even from a distance, David and Colby were somewhat shocked at Don's appearance. It wasn't that they didn't think he'd be upset, but the look of total despair and fear on his face was nothing they had ever seen on his face before. They watched as he stood and Alan pulled him into an embrace. Delores's small voice broke their silence. "I've been sitting with him since he got here, I just felt he needed someone with him." She gave the agents a knowing smile.

"Thank you for that," David smiled thankfully as they slowly started toward the waiting room.

"I'll just leave him to you, now." She touched both agent's arms. "He hurting; you take care of him." Her tone was grandmotherly as they both nodded. "Good, boys. Now, if you need anything you have them call me." With that Delores turned and headed for the door leading to the nurse's station.

David and Colby silently slipped into the waiting room, which was surprisingly empty, taking seats the next row over from Don and Alan. They wanted to stay close to offer support, but also to find out how their friend was. Watching, the two agents saw Alan leaning over, no doubt trying to offer Don comforting words. They suspected, however, from their experience with Don, that the total feeling of guilt Don was carrying at not being able to protect his brother was overriding anything his father was saying.

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Alan arrived in the ER desperate to see both of his sons. A volunteer had approached and directed him to Donnie. As soon as he had seen him, he rushed past her. Normally he wouldn't have just walked away, but he needed to see his son. As he neared the waiting room his heart skipped a beat as he observed Don's slumped form sitting there. Alan could feel tears in his own eyes; fearing the worst he cautiously approached his eldest son.

"Donnie?" Alan stopped in front of his son, calling his name, but Don didn't look up. Alan gently reached for Don's shoulder while again calling his name, "Donnie?" This time Don's head moved as he raised his face to meet his father's. The expression in Don's eyes nearly took Alan's breath.

"Dad?" The anguish in the way Don said that one word nearly broke Alan's heart; it made him nearly afraid to ask.

"Donnie…Is Charlie?" Alan didn't finish as Don slowly stood, just barely shaking his head.

"I don't know, they haven't…" Don's voice broke as Alan watched a tear slip out of his normally hard-as-nails son's eyes. Alan just stepped closer, pulling his son into a tight embrace, knowing instantly just how bad this son was hurting when he felt the embrace returned with nearly the same strength.

The comforting father kicked in as he felt Don shudder in his arms. "It's alright Donnie, I'm sure Charlie will be fine." Alan whispered the words not only to try and comfort Donnie, but himself as well. As they separated and sat Alan caught a glimpse of David and Colby sitting down a row over. Alan was instantly grateful his son worked with such wonderful, caring people. Alan again tried to reassure Don, but he couldn't get through the mask of guilt that showed on his son's face. It was another 45 minutes before a doctor finally emerged through those faux-wood doors.

"Family of Charlie Eppes?"