Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour.
Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's
relativity

1001011

Sarah Wilcox and her husband Peter arrived at their neighbor's house at noon. She had told Peter about the two brothers that lived there and they were both expecting the quiet afternoon in adult company. The older brother – John – greeted them at the door while the younger one – Charlie – sat quietly in his wheelchair at the farther end of the living room. He seemed to be deep in thought, so while her husband talked to John she stepped closer to Charlie, hesitating.

"Hello," Sarah said softly, afraid of startling the young man.

Charlie looked up at her, visibly taking a second to recognize his environment. "Hi," he said quietly. "I'm Charlie." He put out his hand to shake hers.

Sarah took several steps closer to Charlie and shook his hand. "I'm Sarah; it's nice to meet you." She smiled and sat across the couch from him. He seemed like a very sweet man and she took an instant liking to him.

"Nice to meet you." Charlie shifted in his chair so he would face Sarah fully, wincing in the process.

"Your brother told me about the accident. I didn't know you're still in pain." Sarah hesitated, not knowing how sensitive this issue was.

"A little. John helps." Charlie said casually. "He's very protective of me."

Sarah smiled. Her kids were always fighting and she would be happy to see them protect each other in this fashion. "He seems like a great guy and he really cares about you."

Charlie smiled broadly, causing Sarah to feel a little like the shy girl she used to be, staring at the cutest guy in class. "Yeah, I know. But sometimes he makes things worse."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked, confused.

"Sometimes he wants to protect me so much, he doesn't let me face things I probably should face," Charlie said thoughtfully, but with good humor. "He's protecting me a bit too much."

"Like what?" Reconsidering her question, Sarah added, "I'm sorry if it's too personal."

"It's okay." Charlie put his hand over hers for a second. "I don't have any secrets." He licked his lips before speaking again. "The accident. It was someone else's fault. She's a young mother, her kids were fighting in the back seat and she didn't notice me." He paused, looking at the kitchen where his brother was still talking with Peter. "After it happened, she asked to talk to me, to apologize. John thinks it would be too hard, and maybe he's right, but I think I need to try."

Sarah took Charlie's good hand in hers. "He loves you."

"I know." Charlie shook his head and smiled. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this."

"People say I'm a good listener." Sarah smiled again. She felt sorry for the young man. Charlie seemed like a great guy who was obviously in pain. The bruises on his face and neck made it hard for her to concentrate on his serene expression. She had a hard time thinking of him as happy considering his physical condition. And she wanted to help him in any way she could. "I'm happy to lend an ear."

"I hate doing things behind his back, but I think I might have to, eventually."

"Have you considered writing her a letter? That way you can say your peace," Sarah suggested, enjoying the light in the man's eyes.

"I can't exactly go to the post office." Charlie indicated the chair.

"I'll tell you what – you write it, I'll mail it."

1001100

'Oh my god,' Charlie thought. 'Could this actually work?' He didn't have the time to contemplate the answer to his question since Sarah was still sitting right in front of him. He figured that if he had told her that he'd been kidnapped, she wouldn't have believed him and John would've made him pay the price. He reasoned that if he told her something she thought she already knew, like the accident, he might be able to get something out of the situation - like her mailing a letter for him.

"That would be wonderful, and I'm sure she would appreciate it too." He paused for a second, leveling his tone. "But John can't know." Charlie wasn't the best of liars, but being a teacher meant that sometimes he had to put on a happy face. He had to stand in front of people and talk to them like their test scores were the most important thing in the world, no matter what was happening in his own life. He had perfected the art of pretending when his mother had gotten ill. Still, lying was a challenge. As long as Sarah didn't come out and ask him if he'd been kidnapped, he would be able to tell her a story. Pretending he had an over protective big brother wasn't such a stretch and Charlie knew he had to give it a try. He was never one to quit on a problem.

"I won't tell him. I promise."

Both Sarah and Charlie smiled happily, each for their own reasons. Now all he had to do was write a letter. "Thank you," He whispered to Sarah just before the four of them sat together for lunch.

1001101

Charlie grabbed his notebook and scribbled something fast in order to get it to Sarah in time. He would have to make it vague enough so Sarah wouldn't think it strange and clear enough for his friends to understand. 'Please make it work,' Charlie prayed, thankful that his writing hand was still okay. 'I really need this to work.'

1001110

November 11th

Sarah looked at the note in her hands. This letter would mean a lot to several people, yet she wasn't sure she wanted to send it. What Charlie had told her made a lot of sense, and she understood both he and the driver needed closure.

It bothered her that his brother was against it. John seemed to love Charlie so much, and she was sure he had his reasons for not wanting Charlie to talk with this woman. The last thing she wanted was to hurt either of them.

Peter thought she should take her time and sleep on it, and she decided to take his advice.

1001111

November 12th

"Don," Charlie called to his brother as he entered his cubicle.

Don turned to face his brother. "Hi, Charlie."

"I'm waiting for you. Where are you? Why aren't you coming?" Charlie leaned against the table.

"I'm looking for you, I swear." Don stood up, moving closer to his brother.

"It hurts." Charlie's voice croaked. "I'm scared," he whispered as if he was telling a secret. "What if he changes his mind and kills me?"

"He won't. I won't let him." Don positioned himself so he dominated Charlie's line of vision.

"You can't stop him." Charlie's head tilted to one side unconsciously and his eyes welled up with tears. "Nobody can."

Don put his hands on his brother's shoulders, having the intent to calm him down. Instead, he found himself stunned into silence as Charlie began to cry tears of blood.

"It's over, isn't it?" the younger man asked quietly. "I'm his now."

"Charlie!" Don woke up breathing heavily. He took a moment to orient himself. He had fallen asleep on the living room couch since he didn't get much sleep at night. Lately, Charlie sounded more and more desperate, but this dream was the first time Charlie had completely given up. Looking around the room, he froze upon seeing Megan standing over him.

"I think you should take some time off," Megan said softly but forcibly.

"I can't-"

"I don't want to hear it," Megan cut him off. "You can't function like this, and I won't let you."

Don stood up, feeling uncomfortable with Megan standing over him like that. "I can't give up on him."

"You won't. We'll bring files here if we have to and we'll keep at it. But right now, you need to deal with what happened. You need to be Charlie's brother, not an FBI agent. Let us take care of the investigation." Megan wasn't sure she was getting through. "Making yourself sick isn't helping him." Thinking for a second more, she added, "or your father."

"What are you doing here, anyway?" He turned away from her.

She smiled. "I came to check on you."

"You don't have to-"

"Yes, I do," Megan interrupted again. It probably wasn't the best move to constantly disagree and interrupt her boss. "Look at me," she ordered, and after a moment he did as he was told. "You're here. Your father is here. You're both in pain and you're falling apart. Go miss your brother. Help your father. That's your job." She took a step closer to her friend. "You know we'll do ours."

"I have to do something." Don was trying to stay angry. The anger was the only thing that was keeping him from crying.

"I don't think Alan is doing as well as he wants you to believe. Take care of him. That's something."

Megan's words had struck a chord and Don took a moment to consider them. Alan wasn't a young man, and wandering around the house at nights could not be good for his health. "Okay," he surrendered, knowing all Megan had to do was talk to Merrick, which she would do, and he'd be forced to take some time off. "But keep me posted."

"I will." Megan nodded, making a promise they both needed to hear.

She obviously knew she was twisting his arm, but she didn't care. Her friend's health was more important to her and she knew he'd eventually thank her for making him take a break. He looked like he was about to fall down, and the speed in which he surrendered only confirmed what she already believed.

"Go talk to him."

1010000

Don stood at the entrance to Charlie's room. His father was sitting in the middle of the room, looking paler and more jaded than Don had ever seen him before. Between his own nightmares and the crazy hours he'd been working in order to find his brother, Don had neglected to realize just how badly his father was doing.

"Dad," Don tried to get his father's attention, unsuccessfully. Sitting next to him on the bed, Don tried again. "Dad."

"When he was five, he had bad dreams and insisted I'd sleep with him. I spent hours in this room, talking to him, trying to get him to go back to sleep." Alan kept staring straight ahead. The only sign he knew his son had joined him in the room was the fact that he was speaking.

"I remember. Even I spent a night or two in here." Don tried to get his father to smile, but Alan couldn't smile.

"He was such a sweet boy."

"Dad." Don waited until his father looked at him. "You can't do this to yourself."

"I don't know how to do anything else." Alan took in a deep breath. "I just do what I can."

"You don't look good. You have to start sleeping more and eating more. We both do." The Eppes men looked at each other, giving the other whatever comfort they could.

"I'm just not hungry," Alan replied. He seemed to fade away with every passing day. "You think he's eating?"

Don sighed. He really didn't want to answer that question. Even in his dreams, Charlie seemed to be thinner than he remembered him. "I don't know what to think," Don admitted. "Do you dream about him?"

"Yes."

"Good dreams?" Don saw a shadow of a smile cross his father's face as he remembered the good times.

"Yeah." Alan nodded. "Just all of us, here, the way it's supposed to be."

"For that to ever happen again, you have to stay healthy. Please come and eat something." Don watched his father as he seemed to contemplate his words.

Alan nodded, not moving from his place on the bed. "Give me a minute."

Don nodded quietly, knowing his father didn't even see him.

1010001

November 14th

"Charlie!" The mathematician heard his brother call him from somewhere inside the house, the sound reaching him in the basement.

"I'm down here!" he called back, hoping Don would find his way through the locked door.

Don's voice seemed to echo around the room. "I'm coming!"

Charlie could hear the effort to open the door from the other side and knew that any second this whole nightmare would be over.

The door opened slowly and he could see someone walking in. But it wasn't Don.

Charlie was surprised to find John standing over him, dressed in an FBI assault team uniform, chewing gum. "Are you okay?" John spoke with his brother's voice.

"Charlie?"

Charlie opened his eyes, startled, and looked around the room. He found John standing over him, much like in the dream - only he was wearing normal clothes. The look on his face was unmistakably anger, increasing Charlie's anxiety level.

"What's wrong?" the young man asked, but got no reply. "John?" Charlie knew he sounded scared.

"Why do you keep doing that?" John asked, obviously not expecting a reply. "You keep making me do this."

"Do wh-" Charlie didn't get to finish the sentence as John grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. Not being able to stand, Charlie hung from John's grip. After a moment in which he held the young man, he unceremoniously dropped him to the floor, only to have his head bounce off the bed frame with a terrible thud.

Charlie's vision was spinning. Not being able to tell up from down, he lay where he landed, waiting for his mind to clear. He wasn't ready for the first kick and never saw it coming. But once he'd been hit he knew more was to follow. He curled into a ball, trying to protect his more vital organs, but wasn't fast enough. Charlie was hit until he couldn't tell where the pain was coming from. He just lay there waiting for it to stop.

1010010

November 15th

Megan stepped into her apartment, dropping the keys and mail on the table. It had been a long day of paperwork and every part of her body seemed to ache. Taking a glass of water from the kitchen, Megan picked up her mail and entered the living room, switching on the lights, which were on the way.

Sitting on the living room couch, Megan started to sift through her mail. She came across a name she had never seen before and opened the letter curiously.

Megan,

I know it's been a while since you heard from me. I hope this letter finds you well. They told me you wanted to talk to me after the accident; I hope you understand why John stopped that from happening.

I asked my neighbor – Sarah Wilcox - to mail this letter for me. I live right next to her with my brother, John. You can contact me through her. Please tell everyone I'm doing okay,

Yours,

Charlie

Megan stared at the letter for several minutes, rereading it over and over, a decision forming in her mind. Grabbing her keys, she left the apartment.

1010011