"Charlie?"

The young man heard the concern in his brother's voice, but chose to keep working on his backbreaking task.

"Charlie? What doing?"

Charlie let out a silent sigh. Just leave me alone, he prayed. Please, I need to deal with this on my own. A hand on his forearm stilled his movements and he dragged his gaze up to Don's face.

"Charlie? What wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered. "Just thought I'd clean up a little."

Don eyed the backyard in the dim light coming from the back stoop. "Middle of night." He knelt beside the younger man and leaned against him. "Okay?"

Charlie let out a huge sigh. "No, not really."

"Not your fault," Don told him. "Didn't know."

Charlie wryly grinned at his older brother. "Right. It's not my fault. They never made any threats prior to attacking you, so I had no way to know."

"See?"

"Then why do I feel like it's my fault?" Charlie asked sharply as he returned to scrubbing the blood stain on the steps.

Don stilled his movements and gently took the scouring pad from Charlie's hand. "Because you… you." Don grabbed his elbow and led him to the bench in the yard. The two men sat on the bench, leaning back and gazing up at the stars in the night sky.

"I know it's not my fault," Charlie whispered. "But it still hurts – deep inside – that I'm the reason they attacked you."

"I know," Don spoke carefully. "How I feel… you work on case."

"Really? But I've never been hurt."

"No, glad. Russian case." Don took a shaky breath and slowly exhaled. "Found guys come to house… you, Dad maybe hurt… Scared bad."

"Scared?" Charlie asked. "You?"

"Right." Don studied the lawn and stifled a yawn. "You and Dad are… my… life. Can't lose you."

"That's how I feel, too." Charlie nodded at the stain on the steps. "I thought if I could just get rid of it… You know."

"Yeah," Don agreed. "Tomorrow early. I help." He gave Charlie a warm smile. "Together, right?"

"Always," Charlie smiled back. "Thanks, Don."

"Anytime, Charlie." Don draped an arm around his little brother's shoulders and gave him a gentle squeeze. "Charlie?"

"What?"

"I am… proud… of you. Never stop… doing… what you do."

Charlie was touched by the concentrated effort his brother put into speaking, making sure to get the words out right. "That means a lot to me, Don," he whispered, tightly embracing the older man. "Thanks."

--

Two and a half weeks later Don was back at work, sitting at his desk and glaring at a pile of case files. "I hate paperwork," he grumbled to himself.

"Yeah, I know," Megan said as she appeared by his side, startling him so badly that he almost knocked the whole stack off his desk.

"Geez, Reeves," he groused. "Sneak up on a guy, why don't you?"

"Sorry," she laughed, without a trace of regret in her voice.

"I am still your boss, you know. A little respect?"

"Of course," she nodded and grew sincere. "Just look on the bright side – only two weeks of desk work, and then you can get cleared for field duty again."

"Two weeks," Don sighed. "That's two weeks too long."

"I know you're frustrated, Don," she told him. "But you had some pretty severe injuries to come back from, and you don't want to rush back into the field and relapse. You've got to be-"

"Patient," he cut her off as he rolled his eyes. "If I had a nickel for every time I heard that word…" He shook his head as he noticed the report in her hand. "Oh no, did I…?"

"Two places," she told him as she opened the folder and placed it on his desk. "The third suspect remained in the get away card," she read aloud.

"Car," Don groaned. "I knew that."

"I know," Megan assured him as she patted his shoulder. "And, 'The first suspect detained local police after they identified his vehicle as the one described in the BOLO.' I think you meant-"

"Was detained by," Don corrected. "You know, just when I think I've kicked this thing's-"

"Hey boss!" Colby called out as he and David approached the desk, their arms full of food. "Lunch break."

"I'm starved," Don grinned as he rose and followed them toward the break room. Just as he was about to enter after them, Megan stopped him with a hand on his forearm. He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.

"You have kicked it's butt," she quietly assured him. "There are going to be some minor, lingering effects for a while, but you are back to being the Don Eppes you were before the attack. Don't ever think that you're not, okay?"

Seeing the sincerity in her eyes, he slowly smiled and nodded gratefully. "I needed to hear that, Megan. Thanks."

"Anytime, Don." A twinkle appeared in her eye and she nodded to the two agents in the break room. "Do me a favor in return?"

"Anything."

"Next time you're out on leave or vacation," she began, her grin growing wider. "I get your desk."

--

Don swallowed nervously as he stood on Charlie's front porch. Tonight's the night, he thought to himself. If I can make it through this, then I know I'm one hundred percent better. He took a deep breath and opened the door, a pleasant aroma wafting through the house to greet him. "Dad? Charlie?"

"Dining room!" Charlie called out.

Don followed the sound of his brother's voice and smiled as he found a bounty of snack foods laid out on one end of the table. "Whoa, Dad," he whistled. "That's a feast."

"I anticipate a long night," Alan sighed with amusement in his eyes. "I know how you two can be."

"Us?" Charlie asked in the most angelic tone he could muster. "I'm sure Don and I have no idea what you're talking about, father dearest."

"Right," Alan rolled his eyes. "I'll go get it."

Don eyed Charlie silently as their father left them alone. Charlie stared back with a cocky grin on his face. "You ready, bro?"

"Better believe it," Don growled back.

"When I see it," the younger man countered.

"Knock it off, you two," Alan playfully scolded as he reappeared with a long, thin box in his hands. "Take your positions."

Don and Charlie sat across from each other as Alan took the seat at the head of the dining table.

"I'm showing no mercy, Don," Charlie warned.

"Neither am I," he retorted.

Alan chuckled and cleared his throat. "Okay, ground rules. No yelling, name calling, or trash talking – got it?" His sons both nodded. "We'll play three rounds and best two wins."

"Right," Charlie agreed.

"Loser buys dinner for the next two nights," Don added.

"Okay, now that we all understand, let's get started." He placed the box on the table, opened it and removed the contents. "Oh, I almost forgot the most important part." Their father stood up, walked to the bookshelves and removed a large, heavy book. He returned to the table and sat back down, placing it in front of his youngest son.

The professor nervously eyed the book and licked his lips. "Is that…" he trailed off as Don started laughing.

"Yes, Charlie," Alan chuckled. "It's a reliable dictionary."

The End