A/N – I'm sorry for the delay with this chapter. My beta left me and I'm working with someone new so there's a lot of work to catch up on. There's also quite a bit going on in RL. I'll pick up the pace soon.

Hope is a good thing... and no good thing ever dies

1010011

Don was watching TV when he heard a knock on the door. He walked to the front door quickly, hoping the noise hadn't disturbed his father upstairs.

"Megan," Don greeting his guest. Seeing the look on her face, he abandoned the idea of small talk. "What's going on?"

"Do you recognize this handwriting?" she asked him, handing him a folded piece of paper.

Don stared at the words without seeing them. He knew the handwriting. He'd known it his whole life. He'd been staring at it on the boards in the garage. He'd seen it in his homework in high school. He knew it very well and he had missed seeing it everywhere.

He looked up at Megan, questions written all over his face.

"I got it in the mail today." She smiled wildly at her friend. "With a return address."

"You mean…" Don wasn't sure if he wanted to finish that sentence. After almost three weeks, hope was a luxury he wouldn't allow himself.

"I'll book us a flight. You talk to Alan."

With a broad smile slowly spreading across his face, Don did a double take. "Flight?"

"He's in San Francisco," Megan said, pulling out her cell phone. "I'll call David and Colby."

"Thank you."

Don climbed the stairs two at a time. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to think. His mind was reeling with the possibility of finding his little brother in just a few hours. 'Just hold on, Buddy. I'm coming to get you.' Don smiled to himself. It was finally happening.

Walking quietly, Don entered his father's room before the older man had noticed he was there. Alan had obviously been crying and he looked exhausted. He was sitting back on the bed, going through a photo album.

"Hi, Dad." Don stood next to the bed, waiting for his father to acknowledge him.

Alan sniffed slightly. "Don."

"That was Megan at the door." Don shifted nervously. "Dad…" He waited for his father to look at him. "We got a lead on Charlie."

1010100

Alan didn't know how to deal with what had happened to his youngest son during the last 19 days. How does a father deal with not knowing where his son is, how he was doing or if he was even still alive? His mind had been conjuring terrible scenarios he didn't want to believe.

In the beginning, he had tried to be there for Don. To be the father he knew his son had needed, but as more and more time passed it was becoming harder for him.

He took time to himself every once in a while. A time to talk to Margaret, a time to look at photos, a time to miss his family. The problem was that as the days grew into weeks, those moments away became longer, and before he knew it, he had neglected everything else. He had become increasingly uncomfortable just being around the house, and spent his time in either his or Charlie's room.

He wasn't prepared for his oldest son to come through the door and tell him that this hellish existence might be over soon. So when Don spoke he just stared at him, disbelieving.

"I'm going to catch the next flight to San Francisco. You shouldn't be alone here. Who should I call?" Don talked with an enthusiasm Alan hadn't seen in far too long.

Alan took a second to catch up on what Don was telling him. "Don't worry about me. Go bring your brother back."

Don smiled and turned away only to be stopped by his father. "Donnie, how good is this lead?"

Don looked down at the letter in his hand and smiled at the familiar writing. "It's pretty good."

Alan smiled. He hadn't smiled in a long time. "Good luck!"

1010101

Don was pacing. David, Megan and Colby were watching him wear a hole in the carpet.

"Sit down, man." Colby tried to get Don to stop for the third time.

"What's taking so long?" Their flight was delayed and Don's stress levels were going up, as he walked back and forth in the middle of the airport.

"You have to calm down," David said, hoping Don wasn't noticing his leg twitching with nervousness. They were all nervous about getting their friend back.

"I'll be fine."

Megan, who knew that Don was probably right and that his adrenalin would keep him going, objected in order to keep her friend from driving them all crazy, "No you won't. You'll run yourself into the ground. Sit down."

Don sighed and sat down heavily, hitting his back against the chair. Still needing a way to release his energy he started playing with his pen.

1010110

November 16th

Sarah Wilcox had just returned from taking her kids to school when the doorbell rang. She opened the door and was confronted with four people; none of which looked very friendly.

"Sarah Wilcox?" one of the men asked.

"Yes."

"My name is Don Eppes, I'm with the FBI. We need to ask you a few questions."

Surprised to find FBI agents on her doorstep, Sarah only nodded.

"Have you ever seen this man?" Agent Eppes took out a picture from his jacket pocket and showed it to her.

Stunned to see her friend, she replied, "Yeah, that's Charlie Mann. He lives next door." Looking at their serious expressions, she asked carefully, "Why? Is he in trouble?"

"No. Not at all," the female agent replied. "He's been missing for the last three weeks."

"Missing?" Sarah asked, bewildered. "You must be mistaken. He's living with his brother, John. They just moved." She decided to stop talking as all four agents shifted uncomfortably, three of them glancing at agent Eppes. There seemed to be something they didn't want to tell her.

Ignoring her answer, the light haired man asked, "Which house?"

"The one on the right, but I doubt anyone would answer. John's at work and Charlie doesn't like company much." All four agents looked at her strangely. Sarah waited for someone to tell her what was going on.

The FBI agents pulled out their weapons and approached the neighbor's house.

1010111

"Any idea why he chose the name Mann?" Colby asked.

"It was my mother's maiden name," Don answered stiffly, uncomfortable with the fact.

"Megan and Colby - take the top floor, David, take the basement. I'll take the ground floor. Ready?" Once Don saw all his agents nodding he ordered, "Execute."

Don entered the house with a great feeling of trepidation. He wasn't bothered by the physical threat. He knew he could handle anything John would do, though the neighbor had said that he wasn't home. He was afraid of being too late, of not finding Charlie, of failing once again. The kitchen was empty, and as he moved into the living room, he was expecting to see his brother as he had seen him in his dreams – coved with blood, looking at him accusingly through dead eyes. Don had to shake the thought of his dreams out of his mind before he could continue.

The living room was empty and the TV seemed to have been shattered by something. The agent wasn't sure he wanted to know what had happened and hoped that Charlie wasn't there to see it. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. He kept expecting someone to call out that they'd found Charlie. But the call didn't come and time seemed to stand still.

1011000

David entered the house, finding the basement to his immediate right. He climbed down the stairs carefully, his gun pointed to the floor. He tried to tell himself it was just another day at the office in an attempt to keep himself composed. Reaching the door at the bottom of the stairs, he examined the lock. He could only find one reason why someone would lock a door this way and took it as a good sign. He said a silent prayer that the letter Megan had gotten was legit and that Charlie was okay, while he broke the lock with the butt of his gun.

The agent opened the door, scanning the room with his eyes and weapon. David froze when he got to the left side of the room. There, next to a short cot, lay the small form of Professor Charles Eppes.

Realizing who he was pointing his gun at; he holstered it in a hurry. He took a few steps into the room in haste and knelt down, his fingers instinctively going for the neck. He breathed out in relief when he found a pulse, and his attention was immediately drawn to the collar and the chain attached to it.

The FBI agent punched the bed next to him, feeling like he needed to hit something – preferably a man named John. He was disgusted to find Charlie on a leash and hoped he'd be able to get it off of him before Don saw it.

"Down here," he called to his team. Seeing how tightly Charlie was curled into himself, David turned him on his back gently, trying to asses his injuries. The veteran agent found himself blinking back tears after seeing how bruised and battered his friend was.

Much to David's surprise, Charlie opened his eyes and looked at him.

1011001

Charlie felt hands over him. They were touching him, moving him, checking for injuries. Assuming John came back for one of his crazy episodes, Charlie chose to keep his eyes closed. His whole face throbbed and he preferred to move as little as possible. When he let him self think about it, everything hurt, and the mathematician chose to concentrate on his dreams.

But the tender hands over him, turning him around, didn't feel like John. He was always commanding, either with anger, or by picking Charlie up when he took care of him. He was never tender.

Opening his eyes slowly, Charlie was surprised to see David. 'Is this a dream?' he thought to himself. He knew he should be able to tell the difference between dreams and reality, but everything hurt so badly his mind clouded. He didn't think his body could ache this badly, but then again, his dreams never had any pain in them.

"David?" he croaked. He was surprised at how weak his voice sounded, and for a second he wasn't sure David even heard him.

Leaning in, David answered, his voice choked. "It's me. It's okay now. We'll take care of you."

"Over?" the mathematician whispered again, not believing what he was hearing. "Home?"

"Yeah." David moved a few strands of hair from Charlie's face. "Home."

1011010

"Clear," Don called out from the ground floor. Listening for his teammates voices, Don heard David call, "Down here."

He froze for a moment before taking the stairs to the basement in long leaps.

The agent stood rooted in his place. There he was, his little brother, thin, bruised and tortured, lying on the cold floor. 'What did he do to you?' Don wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to find John and beat him to death. He wanted to call Alan. He wanted to take Charlie into his arms and never let go. He wanted to do a lot of things, but instead found himself unable to move.

"Don?" it was Charlie's pleading voice and confused expression that finally got Don moving and he quickly sat on the floor next to his brother.

"Hi, Buddy," he said softly. "It's good to see you."

Charlie smiled, or at least attempted to smile as much as his injuries would allow him to. "You too."

Don leaned in and ran his hand over his brother on the forehead and hair. "We got your letter."

Charlie lifted his right hand to touch his brother's face. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm… happy. I've missed you. So did Dad." Don was openly crying now, seeing how concerned Charlie was for him even in his condition.

"He okay?" Charlie swallowed hard, closing his eyes for a second.

Wanting to find out about an ambulance, Don looked around and first noticed that David wasn't in the room anymore. He knew his team would take care of it. "He's fine."

"Donnie…" Charlie paused for a second before making his next request silently. "Water?"

As if jarred from a dream, Don first realized that Charlie must have been on the floor for a while. He practically ran to the bathroom and back, holding a glass of water. "Slowly," he cautioned while raising his brother's head slightly, and held the glass for him.

Putting his hand near his brother's neck, it was the first time he noticed the collar and chain as it clinked. He had to turn away from his brother to compose himself so Charlie wouldn't see his anger and disgust.

"What?" Charlie asked worriedly once he finished his drink.

Don lowered his brother's head on a pillow he grabbed from the bed, using this distraction to avert his gaze from Charlie.

"It's nothing." Don forced himself to turn back and look at his brother. He heard David coming back down the stairs and wiped his tears away quickly. He was thankful to find David holding something to cut the chain from Charlie's neck and smiled at his friend.

Don moved Charlie's hair so David could cut the lock and then removed it, throwing it away from them.

Both agents looked horrified at the ugly bruise on Charlie's neck, realizing that he'd had that on him for a long time.

"Thank you," Charlie whispered; his voice breaking. "Was annoying." He licked his lips.

"What's the ETA on the ambulance?" Don asked the younger agent.

"There's been some accident. It might take a while." David answered, obviously upset by the situation.

"We're not waiting." David nodded at Don's order. "Charlie." Don made sure he had his brother's attention. He was yet to see Charlie move and his stillness unnerved Don. "I'm gonna pick you up. I'll go slowly, okay?"

"Kay." Charlie closed his eyes, looking too tired to keep them open. Don drew his brother to him gently, picking him up and stopping every time Charlie even flinched. Cradling the young Eppes lovingly, Don started up the stairs.

1011011