Child of my Heart: Charlie made a promise to a friend. And when your heart is talking, it's hard to say no.

Authors: Alice I plus dHALL equals 2headsRbetter

Disclaimer: We hold no rights to any of the CBS characters but we do own and reserve intellectual rights to all original characters.

Watch: Episode Five - Prime Suspect from Season One.

Read: 'Friendship isn't Charity' by Alice I (A companion piece which was inspired by the plot bunny that has since grown into this epic tale.)

Spoilers: Mainly 'Prime Suspect". Anything is possible - all the way up to the most current episode of season three.

In the spirit of friendship we, the undersigned writers, have decided to collaborate on an extensive, unencumbered project that will include many companion pieces to further elaborate on this tale.
That said, we would like to present chapter one of Child of My Heart.
Enjoy! And please let us know what you think of our first joint project!

Thanks for reading,
Alice I and dHALL

Chapter One: Rip Van Winkle

As the first rays of the dawn began to crest over the horizon, a feeling of excitement battled with the bone crushing exhaustion that had pervaded every fiber of Special Agent Don Eppes' body for the last few days.

When Colby Granger led the extraction team to get him out of South America, the first thing he had said when they were safely in a helicopter was, "You look like crap, Don"

And Don had to agree. He did indeed look like crap. His worn clothing hung loosely on a not quite emaciated frame. It was clear that the agent had lost at least fifteen pounds that he couldn't afford to lose. His hair was long and hung around his face in limp tangles. The full bushy beard and moustache that covered his tanned face also showed signs of neglect and he had deep circles under his dark brown eyes that looked almost permanent.

When he arrived back at FBI headquarters in Los Angeles, he had endured a thorough debriefing that had lasted almost thirty-six hours. He had been able to clean up a little then, and Colby had brought some clean clothes for him to change into. But the dark jeans hung loosely around his hips and the plain white t-shirt did nothing to hide his thin frame but instead left him looking like a cleanly dressed transient. Walking out of the FBI offices he vowed silently to himself that he would never take on an assignment like this again. He had told Assistant Director Merrick the same thing only moments ago and he had meant every word.

When Don had agreed to go undercover to gather evidence on the head of the Valdario Columbian drug cartel, he had no idea how much of an emotional impact being cut off from his family for an extended period of time would have on him, both mentally and emotionally. He had spent years seeing his family only occasionally when he studied on the east coast and again when he worked in New Mexico and in fugitive recovery. But all that changed when he came home to be with his mother and support his family during her final months. After only a few weeks out of contact, Don quickly became aware of how much he had grown to depend on his father and brother. They had become his support system, and not being able to see them or talk to them; not knowing what events were transpiring in their everyday lives, made his time in Colombia so much longer and more arduous.

Just as he knew they would, when Don told his family about this assignment both Charlie and Alan went off the deep end. Alan was suspicious that this was a prelude to going back to fugitive recovery. But Charlie held his own concerns about his brother's motivation in accepting such an assignment.

"I thought we were okay, Don. We've been working well together, so why this desire to go away? Why are you accepting this assignment? Why not some other agent?"

The look of hurt in Charlie's eyes nearly convinced Don that he should change his mind about going. But he knew in his heart that there was no way he could pass on this assignment.

"Charlie, we are okay, better than okay. This isn't about you, Buddy, I promise."

"Then what is it, Don? Why do you have to do this?"

"Katrina Escobar."

That one name had said it all for Charlie. Katrina Escobar was a young Mexican American woman who had grown tired of what the influx of crime and drugs was doing to her family, her friends and her neighborhood. The drug trade had claimed the lives of her mother as well as three of her four brothers and she wasn't going to lose what was left of her family to it as well.

She approached the FBI and offered up her services as an informant on the drug traffic in the south Oakland area. Katrina was well known in the neighborhood and the locals trusted her. Through some very subtle digging she had found out that Juan Valdario was going to be in Los Angeles to oversee the set up of a new Tems lab. Tems was the street name for Temgesic, or Buprenorphine which was the newest opioid to hit the street. Juan was the son of the Valdario cartel kingpin, Miguel Valdario. And just as Katrina was willing to go to any lengths to save her baby brother's future, the FBI was prepared to do much the same to make sure this man didn't have one. They wanted to take down the Valdario cartel and they wanted it in a bad way.

Working with Katrina's knowledge of the community and using Charlie's advanced game theory equations, they were able to find the location of the newly set up lab. The FBI then conducted one of the most pivotal raids in recent history for the war on drugs in the LA area. Despite surveillance and careful preparations, they still underestimated the strength of the cartel's resistance. There was an unexpected shootout between the cartel members and the LAPD, FBI and DEA agents conducting the raid and things quickly went from bad to worse.

Katrina had insisted on being present for the raid, but she was safely behind the line of fire in a SWAT van. Charlie too had somehow managed to convince Don that he might be needed for some last minute calculations, so he was in the FBI tactical unit monitoring the situation. As the shootout continued, several cartel members slipped past the line of agents and LAPD officers. From her vantage point Katrina saw that they were headed straight for the tactile van that Charlie was in. SWAT backup had already left the van and Katrina had no way to contact the FBI unit. She had seen several agents leave the van after the shootout had begun and knew Charlie was alone and unarmed. Acting without thought to her own safety, she jumped out and rushed toward the other van, hoping to warn Charlie of the approaching gunmen or get the attention of the nearby agents.

Her shouts alerted the SWAT team that was closest to the perimeter of the firefight, but it also alerted the hostiles to her presence. A gunfight ensued and Katrina was caught in the middle of it. As the agent in charge, Don was immediately alerted to the situation unfolding at the location of the tactical van. Thinking of Charlie, Don came tearing back. He had insisted both civilians wear Kevlar vests, but for Katrina it had done little good. The young woman had taken two bullets in the neck and she ended up dying in Don's arms with Charlie looking on in shocked disbelief.

As the memory of that day played through his mind again, Don knew Charlie had understood why he needed to take on this assignment. Katrina had been willing to protect him at any cost, just as she would have her own brother. And the cost had been her life.

The Valdario cartel was the root cause of Katrina's death and Don had a 'hands on' opportunity to avenge her murder. If they could bring down Miguel Valdario it would give her sacrifice the meaning that it needed to provide some closure. Not just for them, but for Katrina's brother as well and Don felt like he owed the boy that much.

"I have to do this, Charlie."

"I understand. I don't like it, but I do understand it. I guess this means it would be too dangerous for you to call us once in a while to check in?"

"Yeah, Charlie it would be."

"How dangerous is this?"

"You don't want to know."

"Don?"

"I'll be working on Valdario's estate, Charlie. But my cover is solid."

"How will you get out when your job is done?"

"That's already been taken care of. I have a time limit on this. I have to get what I can before Valdario comes to LA for his daughter's wedding. Look, Buddy, don't worry about me. I have it all under control."

That conversation with his brother echoed hollowly in Don's head as he pulled out of the FBI parking lot and headed toward Pasadena. He had it under control until he found out how Valdario treated his 'estate staff'. Don had essentially been used as slave labor during his time on Valdario's estate. He was mistreated, underfed and worked to exhaustion. The fact that he was also a gringo got him worse treatment than the other workers there, but he had gotten the evidence that they needed. It had been the biggest challenge that he had yet faced as an FBI agent, but he had succeeded.

It was over now and what he needed was to be home……..wrapped in the warm embrace of his family. He needed to hear Charlie's staccato tapping on the chalkboard in the garage. He needed to smell his father's roast beef slow cooking in the oven. He needed to fall into his old bed upstairs in the home of his childhood.

'What I really need is a bath, a shave and a hair cut!'

With a wry chuckle, he pulled into the driveway of the old craftsman house. He could feel the stress and fatigue begin to slip from his body as if a cool, clear rain was washing the past three and a half months away.

Looking at himself in the rearview mirror, Don knew his appearance would no doubt shock his family. Even the full beard didn't really hide how gaunt he had become. Being able to wash up during his debriefing was one thing but he hadn't had the opportunity to shower and wash his hair, which was probably longer than Charlie's at the moment.

The thought amplified how much he had truly missed seeing his brother. He missed teasing him about getting a hair cut. Looking in the mirror one more time, Don realized how much the deep tan that he had acquired during his time in Columbia seemed to magnify the ever present dark circles that shrouded his brown eyes in shadows.

'Colby was wrong. I don't look like crap; I look like something out of a medieval nightmare.'

The fact that he had hardly slept in the last two days didn't do much for his overall look either. He was thinking that he really should go home, clean-up and shave first. But then he remembered his apartment had been sublet and his belongings put into storage almost four months ago.

He got out of the car and walked up the driveway past the hydrangea bushes and was delighted to see that Charlie's car was parked there. Unsure how close it was to the end of the semester, Don wasn't sure until that moment whether or not his brother would even be home. The realization that what he wanted more than anything else was to see Charlie hit him like a bulldozer and he quickly made his way back up the driveway to the front of the house.

He had thought briefly of going in through the kitchen door but decided that the front door was a better idea. The way he looked, he could easily have been mistaken for a prowler and the last thing he wanted was to frighten his family. It took Don a moment to find the key and fit it into the lock. He wanted to be quiet in case someone was sleeping and a small part of him wanted to surprise them.

He opened the door and stepped quietly into the living room, but he was instantly alerted to the fact that something was off. It wasn't so much that something was wrong….just very much out of place. He nearly stepped back out of the door to make sure he had the right house but as he looked around he recognized some of the furniture. He knew that he was in his family home but it was like he had been transported back in time to his early childhood.

The early morning sun shown in through the semi-sheer draperies covering the front bay window casting soft beams of diffused light across the hardwood floors, which were littered with toys.

A bottle of milk or formula…or something was sitting on the dining room table.

A playpen was set up on the far side of the living room near the fireplace.

Don took a tentative step further into the house and stepped on something soft.

He bent down and picked up a stuffed……something. As Don looked at it he couldn't quite figure out what it was supposed to be. It looked a little like a short necked giraffe or maybe an antler-less moose that had two legs and two arms. Each of its limbs were different colors and textures. The left upper limb crinkled like cellophane paper, while the right upper limb had a soft felt-like quality. The lower limbs were bumpy on the left and silky on the right. It was the oddest toy Don had ever seen.

A soft murmur brought the agent's attention to the couch in front of the bay window where he saw his brother, Charlie, sound asleep with a baby lying face down on his chest; a lock of the young man's curly hair tangled around the fingers of a tiny fist.

Don stared at this scene before him, uncomprehending just what it was he was seeing. He found himself mesmerized as he watched the rise and fall of Charlie's chest with each breath. Looking more closely he could see that he wasn't the only one who had dark circles under his eyes.

Even in his sleep his younger brother looked utterly exhausted. But somehow he seemed perfectly natural in this position; an arm wrapped loosely around the slumbering baby. The child suddenly jerked in its sleep and whimpered. Charlie tightened his hold and gently began to pat the child's back in his sleep. This calmed the infant and they both slept on peacefully.

'What in the world is going on? I was only gone for three months right? I mean you can't have a baby…'

Don's thoughts were interrupted by sounds coming from the kitchen. His father must be in there making coffee.

That is, unless he really had pulled some sort of Rip Van Winkle.

What if there was a wife to go with that baby and she was in that kitchen making a family breakfast. Feeling slightly disoriented, Don wondered when he was going to hear Rod Serling announce that he had stepped into the Twilight Zone.

Moving quietly so as not to wake the unlikely pair on the couch, Don moved over to the door leading from the dining room into the kitchen. He hesitated just as he was about to push through the swinging door that would lead him to the source of the sounds. Did he really want to go in there? What would he find on the other side of that door? Gathering his nerve, Don slowly pushed open the door and quietly stepped into the kitchen.

Alan Eppes stood at the sink with his back to the door putting dishes from the previous evening into the dishwasher. Don felt more grounded seeing his father performing such a normal task. After seeing Charlie with a baby, he needed to see something as ordinary and mundane as his father doing the dishes.

Alan caught sight of someone standing behind him out of the corner of his eye and turned around expecting to see his youngest son. When he was greeted with the sight of a tall thin scruffy man with long grimy hair and a dark tanned face covered with an unkempt beard and moustache his eyes opened wide in fear.

"Hey, Dad."

Alan stood frozen for a moment staring into the eyes of the intruder standing in his kitchen and realized that he was seeing his oldest son.

"Oh my God! Donnie!"

Alan moved more quickly than Don would have thought possible for a man in his seventies. He encompassed him in a huge bear hug, only pulling back after Don made sounds like he was suffocating. He held his son's face between his hands as he spoke in rapid-fire questions.

"Oh, God, Donnie you're here; you're home! Are you all right? Is it over? Is the case done? Can you stay? Of course you can stay you have no apartment to go to. Are you sure you're all right? Are you hungry? Good Lord, look how thin you are."

"Dad, Dad I'm fine, it's over, and I'm home for a long time. It will be at least six weeks before I go back to work."

"Oh… oh I see."

Alan finally backed off a little and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table for Don to sit down.

"Here let me get you a cup of coffee. Can I make you some breakfast?"

"Thanks, Dad. But coffee will be fine."

Alan got a cup from the cupboard and poured coffee for his son. He pulled creamer out of the refrigerator and brought the sugar bowl over to the table.

"It's so good to have you home. So much time has passed…"

For a moment, Don felt like sinking into the chair, enjoying a nice cup of coffee with his father and pretending that the past three months had never happened. But the odd looking plaything in his hand remained to be explained, not to mention the startling small addition to the household that went with it.

Lifting his eyes to look at his father, Don sat the plush animal next to the sugar bowl on the table and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, Dad. A lot of time has passed."

A smile drew up the corners of Alan's mouth as he watched Don's baffled expression. But he didn't respond right away. Instead Alan sighed deeply and sat down at the table. Picking up the toy, Alan turned it over in his hand. He seemed to be contemplating the mysteries of the universe and Don suddenly felt like he was going to need more than one cup of coffee to get through this explanation.

Don took a seat across from his father at the table and reached for his coffee mug.

"Dad? Unless I was injured out there and I'm having some kind of fever induced hallucination... or..."

He reached across the table and plucked the toy out of his father's hand.

"What the hell is this thing, and who is that sleeping on Charlie's chest out on the sofa?"

Alan smiled at him. But it was a tired smile.

"It's a sensory baby toy, Donnie, and the baby's name is Adam."

Don suddenly noticed the dark circles under his father's eyes and he realized that whatever events had resulted in the new 'daycare' decor that adorned the living room, it wasn't going to be a happy story. As Alan took a sip of his coffee, Don leaned forward in his chair.

"I have only been gone three months... right?"

"Well, son."

Alan paused dramatically and shrugged his shoulders.

"A lot can happen in three months."

Don looked at the odd little toy that he still held in his hands and raised an eyebrow as if to confirm his father's last statement.

"Yeah, uh, is there something you want to tell me?"

Realizing what a shock it must have been for Don to see the house looking the way it did; not to mention seeing a baby sleeping peacefully with his brother, Alan cleared his throat and nodded at his oldest son.

"A lot has happened while you were away."

………………………………

TBC