A/N: Thanks again for sticking with me and for the feedback..

Once again, a huge thank you to starfishyeti!

The stalker

by elessar73

*** 14. chapter: Reactions ***

Don stepped out of the building and convoked his team. Soon all four agents stood in a semicircle in front of the warehouse, with their backs towards the entrance. None of them wanted to be facing the crime scene. Remembering the horrible crime was bad enough.

The SAC felt the indisposition of his team clearly. He had a hard time processing the crime himself. But they were a group of well-trained agents, drilled to handle such situations and to keep their personal issues to themselves.

"Okay what have we got so far?" Don broke the spell of the silence and looked at his team.

"Nothing," Megan's voice was low but her distress was clearly noticeable. "Again, no witnesses, no identification. We hope that forensics and the M.E. can come up with something." She ran a hand through her blond hair. "All we got is a short description of the victim - admittedly there isn't much left to describe." Megan glanced at her boss seeing how his body tensed. She knew what he was thinking- again curly hairs; that had to mean something. And Megan was willing to agree with him, at least partly. She couldn´t see the connection to Charlie nor could she deny it, but she had developed an odd feeling too. She felt Don's inquiring eyes on her, startling her out of the thoughts. She sighed and returned to the report. "I'll run the data through the missing people record. Maybe we´ll get lucky."

"Sounds good," Don answered in a clipped tone. "Anything else?"

David had listened very carefully to Megan. He had noticed Megan's hesitation when it came to the victim and its condition. He had noticed Don's reaction too- and was unsure if he should share his observations. At last the FBI agent in him took the lead over his feelings. "I think the homicides are related."

Don stared at David. His mouth dropped open. "What?" Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Megan nod.

"The MO of the killing itself is different, but the characterization of the torture is similar and the victims looked alike."

"Yeah, I have to agree with David," Megan confirmed David's assumption and cut him short at the same time. " The cuts and bruises in the face speak of a lot of rage. The perpetrator has no command of themself. They have to hit and cut till the pressure diminishes." Megan's hands were clenched into fists and a wave of rage swept through her own body when she described the act. "Once calmed down, they´re cool enough to remove all evidence. I guess we´re facing a cold-blooded serial killer." Megan shuddered.

"Great," Don muttered sarcastically. 'And somehow Charlie is a part of it all.' He added in silence.

"Who had found him?" Don returned to the FBI routine. They had no time to waste;that he was sure of.

" A janitor." It was the first time Colby added something to the conversation. The agent peered at his notebook. "A man called George Stringer."

Don frowned. "What's he doing here on a Sunday evening? It's a little unusual, isn't it?"

"Stringer had declared that his employer," Colby checked his note again, " Emerson property-management had called him yesterday to go check the building because there´s an unexpected house inspection on Monday." The agent closed his notebook.

"Is it confirmed ?" Don wanted to know.

Colby shook his head. "No. I can't get a hold of the landlord. I'll check it out first thing tomorrow."

"Good. Anything else?" Don looked in expectation from one to another. He stared in belied faces. The sound of approaching steps made Don turn around.

" Hey Dr. Greenberg, you done?"

The M.E. stepped intuitive closer to the group when two morticians wheeled a body- bag out of the warehouse. Colby noticed his unfocused gaze. He tapped him on the shoulder knowing exactly what the man was thinking.

"You okay?"

Dr. Greenberg startled a little. "Huh? Oh yes, I'm okay." The M.E. composed himself and started his report. "From the first look, I can say that the victim has been dead for approximately fifteen hours." He checked his watch. "Time of death, Sunday morning around 4.00. I´ll have a more detailed report tomorrow." He turned to walk away. "Ah, and he died of blood loss." He waved the agents good-bye and left the scene.

The FBI agents stood stunned until Don finally made a decision.

"Okay guys, we're finished here for today. Let's go. I want you in the office at 7.00. Fresh and ready to kick doors open. I'll not accept any further delays."

All agreed and finally headed for home.

Don drove away alone from the crime scene. He was all confused about the case and the possibility of a serial killer threatening his city and- even scarier- his brother. He called the house to tell his family that he wouldn't be showing up again because of a new case - it wasn't at all a lie. Alan answered the phone and assured him that Charlie was doing fine and was already fast asleep - getting a good night´s sleep before his first day back at CalSci. Don sighed, 'No way I can keep Charlie from doing what he wants.'

The whole night Don fought with his inner demons - pictures of Charlie mixed up with crime scene photos and images of the victims rumbled through his mind. At around 5.30 he got up. Sleep wasn't an option anymore; his personel nightmare simply wouldn't leave him alone.

He arrived at the Craftsman one hour later. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air. A smile played around corners of Don's mouth. Some things never changed. The noises coming out of the kitchen confirmed Don's assumption that his Dad was already up and preparing breakfast.

"Good morning Dad," Don called as he stepped into the kitchen clapping the old man's shoulder. Alan turned on his heels looking surprised at his son.

"Is it a new habit of yours to turn up so early?"

Don looked dumbfounded at his father."I-I-I´m sorry," He stammered. " I just wanted to check on Charlie."

Alan stiffled a grin at his son´s apparent shock. "Relax Donnie. I'm just kidding. I'm always glad to have you around."

Don let out his breath. He approached the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee. Sitting down at the kitchen table he asked in a casual tone. " Where's Charlie?" He glanced at the newspaper lying on the edge of the table-, afraid to read the headline. But of course there was no word about a brutal serial killer. Since Megan had suggested that missing attention would cause the killer to become more inattative the FBI authority had decided to keep the case sealed. Don wasn't sure about that theory - both victims were found by accident so maybe the killer wasn't looking for attention. But Don didn't argue. Since they had no concrete clue he would grab at every straw to catch the killer.

"Hey Donnie." Charlie's greeting made him nearly jump out of his chair. Consumed by his thoughts Don hadn't noticed Charlie's appearance.

"Oh hey, good morning Charlie." Don quickly brought himself under control. "How are you doing?" He checked his brother from head to toe and had to admit that his brother looked well. The young man's face was back to his normal colour. The bruises were barely visible and even the cuts seemed to have magically disappeared. Charlie was dressed in his favorite T-shirt, a light blue shirt showing the sign of pi on the chest and jeans. Though he still moved stiffly and due to the dressing around his back Charlie kept his upper body extremley straight . That was the most disturbing sign of his injuries. Charlie couldn´t care less about his carriage and liked to slump over his books and papers. Don stifled a grin. Alan appreciated this side effect of Charlie's injury for sure - not that their Dad wanted Charlie to get hurt. But Don could clearly hear Alan's voice admonishing Charlie to sit up straight.

Feeling his brother´s eyes on him Charlie frowned a little. "What? Is something wrong? Are my flies open or what?"

" No, no everything's just fine," Don calmed his brother down. "So how are you?"

"I'm fine." Charlie sat down on his chair. He winced a little. The smallest careless movement still caused a throbbing pain in his shoulders. Don recognized it, but had no time to react upon it as Alan stepped closer to offer Charlie a cup of coffee.

"So you really are going back to work today?"

Charlie felt the piercing eyes of his brother and shifted uncomfortably on his seat. "Actually no real work, no classes, just a little paperwork. Dad´s giving me a ride to CalSci and then fetching me for my appointment with Dr. Lewis."

"Dr. Lewis? Why?" Don asked concerned.

Charlie sighed. "Nothing serious Don just a routine check on the collar bone. I´m fine, really."

Don nodded. "If you say so Buddy."

Charlie's eyes grew wide in surprise. He hadn't expected that Don would let him off the hook so easily. Following an inner feeling the younger brother asked, "So how's your case going Bro?"

Don's head shot up and watched Charlie with wild eyes. The last thing Don wanted was to talk about the case. Since he had managed to avoid the confrontation during the weekend, a short morning visit couldn't trap him. His gaze glanced nervously through the room searching for a way out.

"Don?" Charlie's voice forced him to answer.

"Fine. We just seem to be stuck in a one-way-street," Don said the words without thinking and immediately recognized his mistake. He could slap himself as his words would only encourage Charlie.

Charlie cleared his throat. "Maybe I can help. I can find the pattern, remember the algorithm I used during the poisener case?"

"Not another word Charlie!" Don nearly yelled at his brother.

Charlie's mouth dropped open in surprise."What?" The younger man swallowed hard.

Don looked up into dark brown eyes displaying disappointment and disbelief. He felt guilty, but he had no choice.

"I don't want you on the case. No way."

"But why?" Charlie was pleading for an explanation.

But Don had no intention of answering. He rose from his seat and left the house without another word. Charlie stared at his brother´s back. His vision got a little blurry. His mind was reeling when suddenly the shreds of Don´s latest behavior built a complete picture. ´Don was more than overprotecting. Don was staying by his side. Don didn't want him to leave the house. Don didn't want him to work for the FBI. Don had a protection detail on him.' That was impossible. Did he really believe he was in danger? The walls of Charlie's vow he had built around the memories of his accident and its implication broke down. Charlie shook his head in disbelief. 'Impossible!'

Alan had witnessed the whole scene from behind the kitchen counter. Don had left so quickly that he had no time to calm the situation down. He longed for an explanation from his elder son but right now he had to take care of Charlie. He peered at his son and saw the bewildered look on his face. Tears brimmed up in the dark eyes and his hands were trembling while he gripping his cup of coffee tightly. Concern stabbed his fatherly chest.

"Are you all right Kiddo?" Alan knelt down in front of Charlie and grabbed both of his son's hands.

"No," Charlie whispered. "What was that about Dad? Why can't I help Don?" Charlie hoped that his dad would have an explanation other than the one he had figured out. Alan caressed his son´s hands.

"I have no idea Charlie," Alan swallowed hard. Though he had a pretty good idea about Don's motivation he wouldn't reveal it. He had to talk with Don first to get things straight. He focused back on Charlie. His son sat stiffly on the chair. His dark eyes shimmered with tears while his jaw was set tight. Alan knew that look very well. His stubborn genius son wouldn't give up so easily and he had no idea what to do about it. If Don was right and Charlie's life was at stake Don was right to protect him. On the other hand, who but Charlie could find the hidden pattern? Alan sighed. There must be an answer. There was always an answer.

TBC