A/N - I am so sorry, guys! I know it's been forever, but a lot has been going on in my life and I haven't been able to update. I did keep writing and I finished the fic – only to lose the notebook. Yeah… I actually lost all of it.

I'm rewriting now. I went over everything you wrote and it really made me want to sit down and finish this story – so I made a decision. As many of you pointed out, everything that happened so far in the story would leave a huge psychological impact and would take a while to deal with. I'm not going to run away from dealing with that or from dealing with the story I originally sat down to write (which was a little different from this one). I will close this one soon and most of the aftermath would be dealt with in a sequel instead of one very long and complicated story. I'm already working on it – I promise. Enjoy your reading!

PS: Someone asked about "Discoveries" – I fully intend to go back to that story as soon as I'm finished with this one.

I find I'm so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in
my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel... a
free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is
uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my
friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has
been in my dreams. I hope...

1011011

Charlie closed his eyes tightly against the harsh sunlight as Don took him outside. He knew there were other people around, but wasn't able to concentrate on their voices enough to figure out who they were and what they were saying. Don sounded tense, and Charlie hoped nothing was wrong. He couldn't handle anything going wrong. John should be at work like every other day and it would be a while before he returned to the house.

His ribs ached. Charlie tried to shift a bit in Don's arms only to be stopped by a sharp pain in his abdomen. He groaned involuntary into his brother's chest and was surprised to feel that Don stopped moving. "I'm okay," he whispered, never opening his eyes. After another moment passed, the movement continued and he was lowered into the backseat of a car. He'd missed the warmth of the morning sun and felt its absence once in the shade of the car. But now he could open his eyes and look up at Don, who was sitting in the backseat with him, allowing the younger man to lean back on him.

The mathematician gave his brother a short half smile before closing his eyes again. His head was spinning and the car driving down the streets of San Francisco made him queasy. He felt Don's comforting hand on his, and he relished the gentle contact. He wanted to return it but found he was too tired to do so. He hoped his brother knew how he felt.

1011100

Don sat in the hospital's waiting room. Around him sat three worried FBI agents. He had carried Charlie to the car, where he had drifted in and out of consciousness, scaring the hell out of his brother. The nurse had taken one look at the young man and called for the doctor.

Now they were waiting for news, leaving the act of catching John to the local FBI division.

Don startled his friends by getting up abruptly because he had barely moved in the hours since they'd taken Charlie away.

"Where are you going?" Colby asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

"Call my Dad." He stepped away from the group and opened his cell phone, dialing the familiar number. He was so distressed by Charlie's appearance that he'd forgotten to call his father.

"Don?" Alan answered the phone.

"Hi Dad," Don replied wearily, his lack of sleep catching up to him. "We found him." It was what he had wanted to say for the last three weeks. He couldn't believe how relieved he felt to finally be able to say it.

1011101

Alan sat down abruptly, startling Larry. Getting up from his seat, the professor went to the other man's side thinking something very bad had happened. Megan had called to ask him to keep his friend's father company while he was waiting for news.

"How is he?" Alan asked, confirming for Larry that Charlie had been found. The physicist smiled broadly as he listened to the one-sided conversation.

"How bad?" Larry's smile faltered as Alan paled. "I'll be on the next flight." Alan announced before he hung up.

"What?" Larry asked when Alan stood and began pacing restlessly.

"Charlie's in the hospital. In San Francisco." Alan could barely phrase complete sentences in his rush. "I'm getting on a plane."

"Hospital?" Larry asked, worried. "Will he be okay?"

Alan didn't look his companion in the eye. "Don doesn't know anything yet. He said it didn't look good."

Larry held Alan's arms and moved the frantic man back into his chair.

1011110

Alan had answered the phone on its second ring, as he had answered all the previous phone calls. He had begun to think that the news he'd been breathlessly waiting for would never come.

He had practically fallen when Don gave him the news, his mind racing a million miles per second.

'Could this be real? Is the nightmare over? Is he okay? Will he be okay? Will everything go back to normal?'

All he wanted was to put his arms around his youngest son and feel him again. Feel his heartbeats, smell his hair, hold his gentle hand in his own, watch his chest rise and fall rhythmically as he slept. He had always loved watching his kids sleep when they were younger.

He was afraid to ask how Charlie was doing. Don sounded rattled by what he had found and Don was rarely rattled. While a part of him didn't want to hear the answer to that question, the parent in him needed to know. Don had said that he didn't know how bad it was, but Alan could hear what Don wasn't saying in his voice. He knew that Charlie had lived through a horrific experience and that it wasn't going to be easy for any of them.

'Please be okay, Charlie. Please, God.'

"Get him some of his things," Larry said calmly, penetrating Alan's thoughts. "I'll book the flight."

Alan stood up almost mechanically but as the realization that he was going to see his boy filled his whole being he picked up speed and suddenly had a nearly frenetic energy in his step. "Thank you," Alan replied, already half way to the stairs.

1011111

Charlie opened his eyes slowly only to close them again when he was faced with a blinding light. He tried to figure out where he was and it took him a moment to remember Don and David. Once he did, the rhythmic beeping he could hear in the background made sense. They had taken him to a hospital, which he knew was probably a good idea. Feeling someone touching his right hand, he opened his eyes again and found his brother leaning over the bed. It made him feel uncomfortable and he couldn't understand why.

"Hey," Don said, his smile broadening. "How are you feeling?"

Charlie took a moment to consider Don's question. His head was pounding, his arm felt as broken as ever, his legs didn't feel like they would work very well and his chest was on fire.

But he was finally free.

"Fine," he mouthed, surprised to discover that his voice was non-existent.

"The doctor said you might have a problem with that. She said she'd come and tell us everything soon. Dad's on his way." Don rubbed his thumb over the back of Charlie's hand, careful with the IV.

Charlie wanted to talk to his brother - to thank him for helping him - but found that he lacked the energy to even nod. He allowed his eyes to drift close and was asleep in seconds.

1100000

Don watched his brother sleep. The nurse had let him into the room, only telling him that Charlie's voice would be weak.

They had taken Charlie's shirt off, and dressed several open wounds on his chest, belly and back. When Don first entered the room he was surprised at how gaunt his brother looked and how bruised his body was. Someone had covered Charlie up since, but Don knew that it was a picture that would burn itself into his memory.

He'd been sitting there for a while, just staring at his brother and holding his hand. He was surprised to see how weak Charlie had been when he had woken up and kept staring at him long after he had fallen back to sleep. "I missed you, Buddy. Good to have you back," he whispered to his little brother. "Now you just have to be okay."

"Ahem." Megan cleared her throat from the doorway. "The doctor needs to talk to us about Charlie's condition."

Don nodded, knowing that the FBI agents working the case would get a detailed medical report.

Megan entered the room followed by David, Colby and Charlie's doctor – Elizabeth McCoy, none of them walking far into the room.

"How is he?" Don asked from his seat next to the bed.

"He has a serious concussion; four ribs and his left arm are broken. We had to operate and reset his arm and fix some internal damage in his abdomen."

Don swallowed hard, knowing full well how painful those injuries were.

"We had to intubate him for the surgery and between that and whatever put the pressure on his larynx, his throat is a bit swollen and he'll have problems with his voice. It'll come back in a few days."

Don bit his lip as he remembered the chain around Charlie's neck when they had first found him. He tried to keep his anger in check as much as he could around Charlie, but that specific mental image kept bringing his emotions to the surface.

"Due to the extensive beating his CPK level was grossly elevated."

Megan stepped forward. "CPK?"

"Yes that is Creatine Phosphokinase. It is an enzyme that is released into the blood when there has been muscle tissue breakdown to the extent that we see here. We need to push IV fluids to try and flush his system out. The fact that he is also dehydrated has exacerbated the situation making his own blood toxic to his system. His BUN is also elevated because of the damage to his kidneys again due to the blunt force trauma. The CT examinations show the damage to both kidneys, the broken ribs, other minor organ damage throughout his abdomen and the swelling associated with his concussion."

Don felt his head reeling with this dreadful catalog of serious injuries. John had nearly beaten his brother to death, and for what? What was he trying to accomplish? Don was pulled out of his thoughts as the doctor continued with her explanation.

"His knees were hurt pretty badly; he won't be able to walk for a while. There was some ligament damage as well as muscle atrophy, which will cause him to have some mobility problems. We'll see how he heals." Don squeezed Charlie's hand gently, trying to give the sleeping man some comfort. It sounded like there was a long and hard road ahead of him.

"There are numerous lacerations on his back." Each time the doctor continued Don felt more and more desperate. "Some of them are infected and we're treating him with antibiotics. We're also giving him nutrition supplements through the NG tube since he's been starved for the last few weeks. I found some scars – cuts that healed and what I imagine were ropes that cut through his wrists. The rest are bruises. Much of his body looks the way his face does." The doctor took a deep breath and shook her head in disbelief. Don had to agree with her. How could anyone do this to another human being, let alone the sweet man he knew?

"He has a lot of healing to do and we'll have to keep him around for a while, but he'll be okay, and that's what matters."

Don looked at the doctor, thankful that she was finally done and had eventually delivered good news.

"Do you know who did this to him?" the doctor asked, looking away from Don and over to the other agents present.

"No, why…?" David inquired.

"There were some marks… the ropes and some bruises that look like hand and boot prints." Don looked at Charlie's serene face, wanting desperately to pick Charlie up and lay him next to himself, to feel his warm, breathing body against his own. Knowing full well that he couldn't move his little brother, he turned his attention back to the doctor, catching her mid-sentence. "-catch this guy."

"We will," Megan replied with a steely look in her eyes then smiled her goodbye as the doctor excused herself.

Don kept looking at Charlie, trying to see beyond the bruises and the NG tube that was now feeding him through his nose. "What happened to you?" Don's voice broke, tears rising in his eyes.

1100001

November 17th

"Hey." David walked over to Megan in the hospital waiting room. "Here," he said, handing her a cup of coffee.

She turned dark eyes toward her fellow agent. The level of anger that she was feeling was clear in her face and she didn't try to hide it. "Thank you."

David stared straight ahead. "He'll be all right."

"He's not alright and he's been through hell." Megan sipped her coffee. "And it's not over."

"There's something else?"

"We found him chained on a leash on a basement floor, which I think had blood stains on it." Megan stated bluntly. "You saw the cuts on his thighs. We just don't know what happened." Megan didn't want to even imagine what the last three weeks had been like for her young friend.

"Yeah." David kept staring ahead thinking about Charlie's broken, disbelieving voice when he had first found him. "I know what you mean."

"How's Don doing?" Megan asked in a softer tone.

"He's in shock. God knows what he'll do when he comes out of it." He looked at Megan, who seemed to come to a decision.

"Then we don't leave him alone too much."

"I'll make you a deal." David looked behind Megan for a second. "I'll tell Colby about this and you talk to Alan." He said, indicating the older Eppes walking their way.

1100010

Beeping. Something was beeping in his ear. And it was hard to breathe. Sore. Pain. John was always causing pain.

John.

Charlie opened his eyes, looking around the room for John, ready to handle another one of his episodes. Instead, he found Don sitting next to his bed, talking to him.

"It's okay. Everything's okay now." Don was running his hand over Charlie's curly hair, trying to sooth him. "You with me?"

Don smiled like he had in all of Charlie's dreams, each time Charlie woke up to John's angry face. "John," Charlie mouthed, wondering if he was still in the basement and Don was just another dream.

"He's not here. You're safe now, Charlie." Don ran his finger over Charlie's good hand, which he'd been holding for a while.

Charlie wasn't ready for that touch. Whenever he'd been touched, it'd been awkward and uncomfortable. The mathematician pulled his hand away, shaking his head, "No."

Everything spiraled out of control, as a blind panic seemed to take over Charlie.

Don's voice became increasingly alarmed, but Charlie wasn't listening. He wanted to go home; he wanted to get away from John.

1100011

Don tried to hold Charlie down. The young man was starting to trash around in bed and looking around the room. He did his best to talk slowly and calmly to penetrate Charlie's frantic state, knowing that he sounded worried. "Please, Charlie, calm down. You're going to hurt yourself."

Charlie's lips kept moving, but with no voice coming out Don couldn't understand what his brother was trying to say. He kept trying to hold Charlie still so he wouldn't aggravate his broken bones. Charlie himself seemed oblivious to his injuries.

It wasn't long before the mathematician's elevated vitals notified the nurses who came running into the room. They had quickly escorted Don out. Standing outside the room, Don did his best to peek inside and see what was happening. He could see one of the nurses injecting something into Charlie's IV, which calmed him down. It wasn't long before he was asleep again.

Once he saw his brother was all right, Don made a beeline for the bathroom. He let himself sink to the floor, leaning hard against the cold, off-white wall. He started thinking about what the doctor had told him; about how thin Charlie had gotten in three weeks; about how broken his body was; about how scared he had gotten; about the fact that it took Don three weeks to find his brother.

Everything coalesced in his torn and ragged emotions as he hung his head and cried.

He cried for Charlie's painfor his fear and terror. He cried because he had missed his brother, and because he was so relieved to get him back. He cried because he was so happy to see Charlie and so angry to find him half unconscious on the floor. He cried for his own fear and helplessness. He cried until there were no more tears. Until his head pounded and his eyes burned. He cried like he hadn't cried since he was a small child, afraid of monsters in the closet. He cried because as an adult he knew that there really were monsters; monsters that can tear your world apart.

1100100