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No warnings and no spoilers.

Summary: Don Eppes thinks about what makes a person strong

Strength

Nothing is so strong as gentleness. Nothing is so gentle as strength.

Francis De Sales

When it came right down to it, Don Eppes knew he was always the strong one.

A childhood of being in his younger brother's shadow had taught him to be independent, resolute, and fearless.

When his mother died, he was his family's rock, their emotional support through their grief.

But, his strength didn't just lie in his ability to offer comfort, or handle necessary arrangements, or even lending a strong shoulder to cry on.

At work, his team members relied on his moral strength. When he was confident of his convictions, he became an unmovable force.

Where his brother Charlie out shined nearly everyone in the known universe with the strength of his mathematic abilities, Don's physical aptitude helped him earn accolades, both in sports and on the job.

Even as early as high school baseball, Don enjoyed the rush and heady feeling of pushing himself beyond his last mark.

He excelled in the 14 weeks of FBI training at Quantico. Endurance tests, one and a half mile runs and obstacle courses tested his body and he became stronger, loving the feel of honest sweat on his brow.

Even now, as Senior Agent in the LA office, he worked out in the gym three times a week. The rare weekend off would find him engaged in a friendly game of hoops, or hockey or hiking. His body was in the best physical shape it had ever been in. He was ready, at any given time or day, to chase a suspect through crowded streets, or run up a flight of stairs, holding a weapon at arms length in front of him, the muscles in his forearms flexing with the effort.

But, today, Don's strength came from a different source; an unknown variable, as Charlie would say.

He felt invincible, indomitable.

He stood, once again, in a hospital room with his family. He looked at his father, and was not surprised to see the tears in his eyes. Charlie had finally stopped his pacing and had calmed down enough to return Don's gaze, his large eyes saying what he found difficult to put into words.

And, as always, Don drew strength from them - his family - his loved ones.

He looked at the woman in the bed. Her face was flushed, the color in her cheeks taking the place of makeup. Her auburn hair was still damp with sweat and a few stray tendrils were sticking to her forehead. Her eyes were bright and she smiled at him. As he looked at her, he marveled at her strength, her tenacious spirit and felt weak in her presence.

He took the tiny sleeping bundle from her, all 6lbs 3oz of it and as he lifted his newborn daughter and gently kissed her forehead, he knew he had never felt stronger in his life.

The end