A/N: After returning home and spending time in quiet contemplation, I reread the epilogue for this story – and the accompanying reviews – and I had to agree. It did not fit. I revised the chapter, lengthened it, and made a vow never again to write while on a train.

Epilogue:

"So how did you manage to convince him?" Don Eppes asked his father and brother.

Alan chuckled. "Your brother can be very stubborn."

Ducking his head, Charlie grinned sheepishly. "I wasn't really, you know. I just stated my opinion."

"Yeah, well your 'opinion' very nearly got you thrown out of Doctor Hildebrand's office," Alan countered. "You raised your 'opinion' more than once."

Don grinned. "I've noticed his stubborn streak occasionally myself from time to time." He shifted position on the bed and hissed. Seeing his father reach for him, he shook his head. "I'm okay," he said.

Charlie looked at him with concern. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes, Charlie, I'm sure."

Alan leaned closer to Don and said conspiratorially, "Your brother is feeling the weight of a guilty conscience, I believe." At Don's puzzled expression, he explained, "Doctor Hildebrand said taking you off the sedatives might do you more harm than good." He looked at his youngest son. "And then of course there's the additional drawback of being awake enough to feel pain."

Charlie glanced at his brother before replying. "I was right, though. He is doing better."

"Yes, I am." Don frowned. "But I don't understand – how did you figure that I would?"

Shrugging, Charlie replied, "I don't have any empirical data to back it up…"

"He had a gut feeling," Alan cut in. Don raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

Charlie dropped into a nearby chair and folded his arms in a gesture of disgust. "I was right, though," he pouted.

Just at that moment, the door opened slowly. "Knock, knock," Megan's voice drifted through the gap. "There's a bunch of FBI agents out here."

"Hey, guys!" Don called, grinning. "Come on in!"

Megan entered the room, closely followed by Colby and David. Cheerful greetings were exchanged, along with enquiries to Don's health. The pleasantries were brought to an abrupt halt, however, when Don suddenly asked, "What happened to McKesson and Travers?"

David replied, "Travers is in jail, and McKesson is here."

"Here?" Don asked. He attempted to sit up, but his father's restraining hand on his shoulder kept him in place. "Why is he here?"

Colby answered, "That Cramer guy really belted him one, Don. I think they said his skull was cracked."

"Good," Charlie muttered. He looked up quickly, but no one reprimanded his callous attitude. He sat up a little straighter. "I hope he recovers, so he can get what's coming to him," he added.

Don said quietly, "Me too, buddy."

"IAD's after you, Don," Colby changed the subject abruptly. "What's that about?"

Shaking his head, Don replied, "Something about shooting at agents. I don't remember doing that, though."

"You did," David answered. At Don's surprised look, he hastily added, "You were shooting at McKesson's backup, remember?" Don nodded. "Well, some of our guys were right behind them."

"I would never…" Don began, but Megan cut him off. "You couldn't have seen them, Don. They were coming in right behind McKesson's goon squad."

Don's eyes opened wide in shock. "I didn't… Did I hit anyone?" he asked softly. She shook her head. "Are you sure?" he pressed. "That guy from IAD told me we lost four people. I know about Verona and… the one Travers shot." He closed his eyes briefly at the memory. "Who else was there?" he asked.

Alan regarded his son sadly. This was the part of the job he always wanted to shield Don from – the mental anguish. He watched as his eldest quickly shoved aside his emotions and opened his eyes, waiting for a response. It came from Colby. "We lost two outside when the shooting started. They kind of got the drop on us."

David shook his head. "It was a bad scene all around." He quickly recounted their side of the evening's events. "We nailed just about all of McKesson's people."

"Who were they?" Charlie asked. "They weren't agents, were they?"

Colby replied, "Nah. Just a bunch of goofballs McKesson and Travers rounded up to do their dirty work." To Don, he added, "We got all of them – well, what was left of them."

Alan used the pause in the conversation to ask his own question. "So they bought the story about Don's reputation being questionable, and they bought that Don wanted to get out of his own department for a while," he paused. "So what made them suspect something was up?"

"Me." Don shifted his position again and grunted slightly. "I guess I'm not that great at playing a 'dirty cop'. McKesson didn't buy it a hundred percent, and then when David came to see me…" He shrugged, looking at his friend. "I guess I should've told you off, or something."

The handsome agent grinned. "I'm just as glad you didn't. They might've gotten the idea you didn't want me around anymore." The smile faded slightly as he took in Don's appearance. "You sure you're feeling alright?" he asked.

"I'm okay," came the strained reply. "Just… sore."

"We should get going," Megan announced. "Let Don get some rest." She leaned over and patted Don's hand. "You just relax and get better, okay?" Don nodded. The other two agents added their well wishes and the three of them departed.

In the ensuing silence, Don said, "You know, Charlie, I oughta kick your butt."

It was Charlie's turn to look shocked. "What for?" he asked.

"I can answer that," Alan replied. "For sticking your nose in when you were expressly told not to." He shook his finger at his youngest son. "You weren't supposed to get involved."

"How could I not get involved?" Charlie protested. "You wanted me to just sit back and not do anything when Don needed help?" He slumped in his chair again, shaking his head. "I'm sorry," he said firmly. "I just can't do that."

"Yeah, well," Don sighed. "I'm kind of glad you did. I was wishing I'd let the others in on what was going on. I hate to think what would've happened if they hadn't shown up." He regarded his brother with a penetrating glare. "But you put yourself in a lot of danger, you know. If they had found out you were in on it…" he trailed off menacingly.

"They didn't," Charlie quickly replied. "They didn't, and David, Colby and Megan were there with the other agents to help, and David called in the police, and…"

"Enough already!" Alan cut him off. "You were right, and we were wrong, okay?"

Charlie grinned. "And I was right about Don, too," he added smugly. "He's getting better, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is." Doctor Hildebrand said from the doorway. He entered the room, picked up Don's chart and examined it. "It looks like you're healing well, Agent Eppes." Setting it back down, he smiled. "No surgery for you. I was afraid there might have been complications."

"Peripheral damage, then?" Charlie asked.

Doctor Hildebrand nodded. "I was afraid it might have been central." He looked at Don appraisingly. "It's a good thing you're in such good shape, Agent Eppes." He paused thoughtfully. "Usually the kidneys are fairly well shielded by muscle, but a blow like that would cause some pretty serious damage anyway. The vest you wore may have stopped the bullet, but your muscles provided a considerable amount of protection as well." Shaking his head, he added, "I don't know whether you're just lucky, or…"

"Very," Alan cut in.

Turning to Charlie, Hildebrand asked, "I don't suppose your doctorate is in medicine, is it?"

Shaking his head, Charlie answered. "Nope. Mathematics."

"That's too bad," the doctor replied. He addressed his next comment to Don. "Your brother seems to have a gift for diagnosis."

"No," Don smiled. "He just gets these gut feelings."