Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. Last chapter of this two-shot, hope you enjoy it.

"Told you it would fit."

Aaron shot him a decidedly exasperated glare, but given that Sean's futon was now safely wedged into the U-Haul next to his desk with some space left over for his boxes, Sean didn't really care.

"Break for lunch?" he suggested.

Aaron's glare relaxed into a faint smile. "Sure."

Sean had cooked off the chicken breasts in the freezer and used up them and the last of the vegetables making sandwiches last night—chicken sandwiches were reasonably easy to transport in a cooler, raw chicken not so much—and he dug two out of the fridge and passed one over to Aaron.

"So you'll be driving up tomorrow?" Aaron asked, leaning against the counter.

"That's the plan. Depending on when I get in, I may just crash on the couch overnight, but Mike said he'd help me unload the big stuff from the U-Haul the next morning as long as I supply the beer."

Aaron nodded, swallowing a chunk of his sandwich. "Make sure you call me when you get there."

"Yes, Mother." Aaron raised an eyebrow, and Sean grinned in return. Aaron wouldn't be Aaron if he didn't say things like that, but that didn't mean that Sean was going to just let it pass. Although he was a little surprised that Aaron had managed to refrain from asking for Mike's full name and number. Sean was more than old enough to find suitable roommates for himself, but that didn't mean that Aaron always respected that fact.

"And this restaurant that you're going to be working at, it's close to your apartment?"

"Just a subway ride away." Sean pulled a card off the fridge and passed it over. "Here. Since if I didn't give it to you, you'd just have your tech-type friends at the FBI track it down anyway. The address of the apartment is on the back."

That got a flicker of a smile, and Aaron didn't even look marginally embarrassed as he took the card, checked the name, and then tucked it into his pocket. "I told you, a brother worries."

"I know. But now that you know where I am, if you're ever in New York, you'd better stop by."

"I will."

Aaron finished off his sandwich at about the same time that Sean finished his, and Sean mentally debated whether to bring up the pictures now or wait until they'd loaded his boxes. If he brought it up now, things could get awkward, but he was pretty sure that Aaron wouldn't just walk out and leave him to do the rest of the packing on his own. If he waited, he could enjoy a little more of the easy camaraderie with his brother, but Aaron might take off as soon as he brought the subject up since there would be no more work to keep him here.

"Sean? What is it?" Aaron asked.

And there was the downside to having a big brother who was a profiler. Sean shook his head. No sense in backing out now, and he turned to pull the shoebox down out of the kitchen cabinet. "Before I forget, these are actually yours."

Aaron took it from him when he held it out, although his frown didn't fade.

"It's some pictures I found in Mom's stuff," Sean said before he could ask. "From when you were little." If he'd been expecting to see something in Aaron's expression, he'd have been disappointed, but Sean knew his brother. Getting a reaction would have been more of a surprise. "I was kind of hoping to find a Halloween picture of you in a chicken costume or something, given what Mom did to me the year that those hot dog kids were popular," he continued. "No chickens, though." He paused and then pressed on. "What there were were a lot of bruises. And clothes that hide bruises. And I kind of doubt that you tripped and fell down the stairs once a week."

Aaron's jaw tightened. It wasn't much, but Sean suddenly wished that he hadn't eaten that sandwich.

"Aaron, did Dad—"

"It was a long time ago, Sean," Aaron interrupted before he could finish the question. "Thanks for the pictures, but it's not worth worrying about anymore."

It wasn't even a denial, and never mind that Sean had never actually finished the question. "Was anything Mom told me about him the truth?"

"Let it go," Aaron ordered. "Dad was a great lawyer, and he did a lot of good for the city."

Sean ignored him. He wasn't eight years old and splashing in mud puddles anymore, and he certainly didn't give a damn about his father's illustrious career. "You said it yourself, Aaron, not fifteen minutes ago. A brother worries. That doesn't change just because you're older than me."

Aaron's jaw tightened even further and he clearly didn't intend to respond, but Sean kept going anyway.

"I started thinking about it after I saw those pictures, and I know what Mom told me about him—what you told me about him—but all I can remember for myself is things breaking. And of you making me promise never to stay at home with him if you weren't there. That's not normal, and I don't have to be some kind of expert FBI profiler to know it."

Aaron's jaw had to be starting to ache, but he kept his eyes focused on the window over Sean's shoulder.

"He hurt you, didn't he?" Sean didn't know why he was so determined to make Aaron say it, but the combination of anger and hurt that he'd felt upon realizing that he'd been lied to was suddenly ten times as strong, and Aaron wasn't the only stubborn one in the family. "Didn't he?"

"Seanie, he's been gone for twenty years," Aaron finally said. "It doesn't matter."

That was a nickname that hadn't been used since Sean was about six, except for that one time when he'd ended up in the hospital at eleven after a nasty bike accident, and he closed his eyes. "It matters to me. Why would you and Mom tell me all these nice things about him if he hurt you?"

"You know what Mom was like," Aaron said.

"And you?"

He looked away. "What good would it have done? Especially if I was calling Mom a liar at the same time?" He shook his head. "You were just a little kid."

It was the reason that Sean had more than half expected, and he felt some of his anger drain away. Aaron was Aaron, and there was no point in expecting anything else from him. He still felt a little betrayed—he could understand their reasoning for a little kid, but they damn well should have told him the truth when he'd grown old enough to hear it—but…. "Why, Aaron?"

Aaron frowned, and Sean shook his head quickly.

"No, I mean, why would he do that?" Sean had taken a couple psych courses as part of his general education requirement, but somehow they'd never quite covered something like this.

"I can't explain it, Sean. There are different reasons that abuse happens, and I can list them out for you if you like although I'd rather not, but I can't tell you which one was his. It…." He sighed. "It just was."

"It was pretty bad, wasn't it? Did he hurt her too?"

That got a quick head-shake, although it seemed to be more dismissal than denial. As much as Sean would have preferred the denial. "I'm okay, Sean," Aaron said. "Leave it there."

"You're something, anyway," Sean muttered. The words had slipped out without conscious thought, an echo of the response that Aaron used to give him whenever he'd insisted on something particularly ridiculous as a kid, and Aaron clearly caught it too because despite the situation, his lips twitched slightly.

"Come on. We've still got boxes to load. I'll go toss these in my trunk, and then we'll figure out where to start."

Sean wanted to object, but…well, the fact was that what had happened had ended twenty years ago. And he had his answer now, as much as he wished that he'd been wrong. Forcing Aaron to discuss it further—or trying, anyway—probably wasn't going to yield anything more. "Will you promise me something?" he asked before Aaron could walk away with the box of pictures.

"What?" Aaron asked.

"Don't say any more nice things about him, okay? Just don't. Not if he hurt you."

Aaron's eyes locked on his for a moment, and then he nodded slightly. "Yeah. I can do that." An arm hooked around Sean's shoulders, tightening slightly as he pulled him out of the kitchen. "Let's finish getting that truck packed, and you can come down and join Hayley and Jack and I for dinner, all right?"

Sean leaned into his brother's grip for a moment, his own arm wrapping around Aaron's back quickly, and then he nodded. "Yeah. That'd be good."