Thank you all for your patience. Work more or less hijacked me mid-December and I'm just now coming back up for air. It's probably best not to make any predictions, but I really hope to be back on track now.

Bitter Harvest

by Jules

4. Where the heart is not

An army of dead soldiers litters the couch table in front of you and you squint at the light reflecting off the green glass bottles when you move your head just that way. It's quite possible that you had that one beer too many for you to drive home yourself tonight. But it's not like you're planning to leave any time soon, so there should be ample time to deal with that later.

You're still missing crucial parts of the events leading up to this impromptu party, mainly the how's and why's of having both Eppes brothers safely back home right now. When your cell phone rang merely three hours ago, you and David were still deeply covered in the wrap-up paperwork of your latest case, something you both hate but tackle together in mutual agreement ever since Don had disappeared and David was put in charge. It was nothing you actually had to talk about, all you needed to see was David's face when he came back from the AD's office. They never gave him a choice and ultimately, it will be his neck in the noose if something goes wrong under his command, but you take your share of administrative nightmare and responsibility as if it were yours too.

You're in this together, just like you're sitting side by side on this couch right now and while you can't see your own face, you're pretty sure it mirrors David's expression, a mixture of confusion, careful relaxation thanks to the alcohol and general exhaustion. These last few months have been basically hell; you've been dumped into a new situation without warning, saddled with a newbie you have to mentor and bring up to shape and dealing with the fallout of Charlie's conviction and Don's disappearance and the impact all that has on yourself. It has definitely taken its toll on both of you. In the silent moments that are so rare, you congratulate yourself because you seem to be doing a fine job, with clearance rates only slightly lower in those first few weeks after Don's exit and steadily holding their level ever since. You just wish you'd both get a full night of restful sleep once in a while.

Charlie, sitting on the floor in front of the couch with Amita behind him, her hands securely on his shoulders, is yet again launching into his recount of the events, how he got called into the warden's office and was informed about the immediate stay of sentence he was granted due to new information the prosecution had been handed. It's his fourth or fifth time of telling that story but he yet has to lose the air of incredulity surrounding him. You watch Don as he closes his eyes with a tired smile and rests his head on the back of the couch, right beside Robin's head who's fallen asleep with her arms firmly attached around him and suddenly it hits you with a force that makes it hard to breathe.

This here, all of you together sharing a moment of repose, is one of the things that has been missing. David and you here on this couch, Don and Charlie guarded by their respective girlfriends on the other one, Larry in the chair across and Alan rotating between the kitchen and the living room, too wired still to settle anywhere: this is family or what comes closest to it for you. It's not just Don as a boss and Charlie as a valuable advisor and both of them as friends you've been missing, it's a lot more.

The realization, its intensity and how you took it for granted before almost humbles you right now and you attribute the sudden onslaught of emotion mostly to the alcohol, but ultimately it's true. A home away from home. You can't remember how many evenings you've spent here eating dinner or how often the garage became a substitute office during investigations. Riding on that insight almost like an afterthought, you recall the many times Alan has acted like a father figure in giving advice or providing a steady presence and you internally apologize for thinking the older man might have gone over the edge earlier when he called you to invite you over with barely suppressed giddiness in his voice.

But you're sure you can be excused, because even though you've heard Charlie's side of the story multiple times now, the whole of the events still doesn't compute, but you have your theories and none of them are pretty. It's a strange atmosphere in here, with too many questions left unanswered, but no one seems to dare asking them out of fear of destroying the fickle hold on normalcy just achieved. And the only man who could shed some light on the mystery hasn't spoken yet. You look at Don again, noting the deep lines of weariness in his face and you know the details will be grim. But you're ready to hear the plain truth, no matter how painful it will be. As if sensing your eyes on him, Don's lids open and he holds your gaze for a few moments before he blinks and turns his head away.

"I think we need more beer," he mutters and gently extricates himself from Robin's grasp to rise off the couch. He walks over to the kitchen and you grant him three seconds of a head start before you rise too and follow him.

He's crouching in front of the fridge, stacking beer into it from a case beside him and you know the squeak of the swing door has heralded your entry, but he doesn't acknowledge you at all. Leaning against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest, you watch him, his stiff movements and the way he favors his right side and you know he'll have to give in at some point. You deserve to know the truth and you both know it, after all you've been the triple agent in this outfit and you can smell secrecy from a mile away. But Don doesn't budge and so you decide to venture a guess.

"CIA?"

"Don't."

It's just one word, fired out almost before you were finished and it holds something akin to fear and you feel the hairs on your neck rise at the sound of it. Don slams the fridge closed with distinct finality and grabs four bottles from the counter while kicking the empty case under the table. He turns around and faces you and there is a brief moment in which you think it might be worth the standoff, might be worth to hold your ground and force him to trust you and open up about the whole affair, because you know that if it were you in his shoes, you'd want to talk about it.

But this is Don and his eyes are hard and his face nearly rigid safe the soft clenching of his jaw and you wonder if you just imagined that sliver of fear you thought you'd heard. He squeezes past you without another word or look and you recognize the cue and sigh inwardly. Grabbing the remaining bottles, you return to the living room.

"Hey, David? Tell me about the new girl, Betancourt, right?"

Don has deposited the bottles on the table and taken your seat beside David. Your partner throws you a confused look, caused by Don's sudden segue into acting normally and you just shrug helplessly and move yourself over to the dining table.

This is going to be a long and rocky ride, that much is certain.

The next morning finds you slightly overhung, but you expected that. You did drive yourself home after all, against your better judgment, but you reached a point when you had to get away, had to be able to breathe freely and process and try to hold your own demons you believed long since buried at bay. Now you're on your way into work, stuck in sluggish commuter traffic, and when the newscaster on the radio announces breaking news in a minute, you already know what will come and reach over to raise the volume. But there's nothing in the 90 seconds report you didn't know already after last night and you turn the radio off.

Stepping off the elevator at the bureau half an hour later, you do a double take. Don is back, sitting at his desk as if nothing has happened at all, as if these last three months were a bad dream and for a moment you almost wish they were. Nikki throws you a curious and glance full of questions from where she's sitting behind a pile of files and David is nowhere to be seen, so you proceed past Don's desk to your own with nothing but a terse greeting. He looks at you like he wants to say something, but then just shakes his head.

An eerie almost-silence settles over the office as everyone is busying themselves with work, but you feel the furtive glances thrown into Don's direction as if it were you everyone's staring at. And in a way, they are. Then the elevator dings and you hear a small gasp. As you look up, you see Liz standing there rooted in her spot and inwardly, you wince because you forgot to call her and David probably forgot too and judged by her startled expression this must come as a hell of a shock to her. She steps forward and her soft exclamation of Don's name bounces off the cubicle walls as the whole office has fallen silent once again.

Don's eyes meet hers and a tired smile flashes over his features for the tiniest of moments before the mask is yet again firmly in place. He rises off his chair and meets her one-armed hug with apparent little enthusiasm and turns out of it almost instantly to face the rest of the team.

"Meet me in the conference room in 15 minutes, okay?"

With that, he leaves and once he's out of sight, the noise level inside the office nearly explodes as everyone seems to be rushing over to you and starts pelting you with questions you can't answer either. Liz looks at you with so much confusion that you already fear her reaction once she finds out that you forgot to inform her last night and just hope she'll give you a chance to make it up to her. But for the moment, she's busy trying to fill in Nikki and you're tackling everyone else's concerns. David's arrival a couple of minutes later is a pure blessing and together, you finally manage to send everyone back to their respective desks. With a sigh, you look at your partner and that one look gives you all the answers.

"He's been reinstated?"

"Yep." David sinks into the chair beside you with a groan and props his head onto his fist. "Wright did commend me for my outstanding work though."

You simply shake your head. It really doesn't seem fair, but from your own experience, you know how the bureau works. With another deep sigh, you look at your watch and throw David a glance. "You ready for the big confession?"

"No," he answers with his eyes closed.

"Yeah." You nod your head and reach out a hand for David to grasp and pull him out of his chair. "Me neither."

You're the last to enter the conference room and you take the two remaining seats in the back. Don walks in a minute later and closes the door behind him. He steps up to the front of the room and faces the group and if it were up to you to venture a guess, you'd say he's more nervous now than he was on his first day at this job.

"Okay," he says after a moment, "we're all trained agents, so I don't think we need to beat around the bush. Yes, I was part of an covert operation. No, I can't talk about it yet. Yes, I will, at some point in the future."

He swallows and walks a few steps to the window before turning around again with an unreadable expression. "I'm sorry I had to keep you all out of the loop, but it was part of the plan," he says softly. "If anyone has any problems working with me on this team in the future because of it, now's the time to speak up."

But the room stays blissfully quiet and something akin to relief seems to loosen Don's posture. He clears his throat and leans back against the table behind him. "Thank you. Any questions?"

"What about your brother?" Penny Castillo asks and you can't help but grin because you always suspected she might have a crush on your resident math genius and the slight blush that has crept into her cheeks is more of a proof of that assumption than you ever hoped to get.

"Charlie's out of prison, but that's all I can say right now. Anything else?"

"Yes." Liz' voice is almost painfully laden with worry as she speak up. "Are you alright?"

It's the pivotal question no one dared to ask yet and Don's smile is all but fake as he looks first at her and then at the room at large. "Yeah, I'm okay. Now, can we please go back to work?"

This puts an effective end to the little informational round and Don is the first to leave the room. Slowly, people rise and follow him, their silent chatter trailing away as they get back to their desks. But neither you or David move until everyone's gone.

"Oh my," you say after a while.

"Couldn't have put it better myself," David replies and the tiredness in his voice matches the complete exhaustion you feel.

You turn your head and look at your partner, knowing that this is definitely not the end to this. Not by a long shot.

TBC