Authors Notes:

-This is my first attempt to post a fanfic story…please be gentle. )

-I am Canadian so while I try to thoroughly research anything I think may differ from country to country, there still may be errors. Please feel free to let me know if you find anything.

-I am not a Mathematician, nor do I play one on TV. I try my best to get the techy stuff right but please feel free to offer any corrections or comments.

-I do know where this tale is headed. I know who is responsible for the crimes and why said individual/individuals did it. That said, I'm a nit pick and I constantly revamp as I go along. I will always advise you of any rewrites. Generally they are just wording revisions, not plot related.

-I have comma issues. I know this and I'm in rehab. All chapters have been read and reread for spelling, punctuation and flow but please feel free to speak up if you see anything out of the ordinary. I don't currently have a beta (would love one though...)so it's just my tired eyes doing the editing.

-I do my darnedest to avoid ooc but as I am not Cheryl Heuton, Nick Falacci or any of the other fine writers related to "Numb3rs", I can only base my decisions on my observations of past episodes and how things fit into my story. Please forgive any discrepancies.

-Feel free to contact me privately at anytime. )

I hope you enjoy.

Josephene

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"Gifted"

Chapter 1

Don Eppes turned off the car and unbuckled his seatbelt making no move to get out of the vehicle. All the lights in the Eppes family home were off but fear of waking his brother and father wasn't what kept him in the car. Normally, he would have waited at least until the sun came up to go over and enlist Charlie's help on one of his FBI cases but this time was different. It wasn't that he had any intention of rousing his younger brother yet, he just needed to be somewhere that he felt safe and centered.

Safe. That was a funny thought when he really thought about it. He hadn't felt truly safe in a very long time. He didn't lie awake at night worrying that doom was eminent, he just didn't feel that blissfully unaware feeling that most people took for granted. Felt that feeling that took over as soon as you entered your home and locked the door behind you, safe in the knowledge that the boogieman and all things that go bump in the night were on the OTHER side. He hadn't felt that way since he joined the FBI and he really didn't think going to his family's house to catch a few hours of sleep on the couch would change that but it certainly couldn't hurt. If nothing else he would be reminded that his family was safe and that he was loved.

The new case he was working on was affecting him in ways that no other had and now he was about to pull his brother into his own personal hell and it tore him up inside. The practical side of him said, "This is the best way to catch this sick bastard." but his heart said, "Don't subject someone like Charlie to this nightmare. No, check that, don't subject anyone."

Don sighed and opened the car door.

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"Charlie! Where are you?"

"Charlie!"

"I'm here Don. Why can't you see me?"

"Charlie! Buddy, answer me!"

"Don! Help me, it's getting so dark."

"Oh god. No! Charlie, nooooo!"

"Don!"

Charlie lashed out ferociously at the darkness that threatened him, his heart pounding and breathing shallow and frantic. He felt like he was dying. And then he heard a voice. A voice that spoke of reason and security, of jealously and love- his brother's voice.

"Charlie, easy now." Don struggled to hold on to his brothers arms and calm him.

"Don?"

Don's heart ached at the fear and uncertainty in his sibling's voice. He sounded all the world like the 10 year old child who had woken up night after night for months with nightmares about bullies instead of the 30 year old university professor he was.

"Ya buddy, I'm here." Don let go of one of Charlie's arms and brushed the dark curls off his forehead so he could see his eyes. "It was just a dream."

"A dream?" Charlie asked, a flicker of hope in his soft voice.

"Just a dream pal. It's over now. Wanna tell me what it was?" Don asked gently.

Charlie's still unfocused eyes looked through Don.

"I was lost and you couldn't see me. It was so dark, you couldn't find me." His voice broke, his eyes filling with tears.

"Look at me Charlie." Don said firmly, holding his chin and forcing his brother to look him in the eye. "I will always find you buddy, ALWAYS."

Charlie's eyes focused a bit and asked, "What are you doing here in the middle of the night?"

"Just dropped by to catch a couple of z's. Your place was closer than mine. That ok?"

"'Course." Charlie yawned. "This is your house too." The fear and lost look had left Charlie's eyes but he still trembled under his brother's hand.

"Scootch." Don commanded.

A ghost of a smile played across Charlie's face and as he complied with Don's request, shifting over to the far side of the bed and curling up on his side.

Don stretched out on the other side of the bed his hand resting against his younger brother's arm, offering Charlie security as he had so often as a 15 year old helping to chase away his younger brothers boogiemen.

"Don't tell Dad?" Charlie said, as he had so many times before.

"'Course not buddy." Came the familiar reply.

Charlie's eyes fluttered shut and Don lay there, watching his brother's chest rise and fall. In a few minutes Charlie was asleep. Don knew sleep would be a long time in coming for him.

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He slid the key into the lock and pushed open the door, quickly slipping across the threshold. The house was quiet and he felt some of the tension in his shoulders and neck ease. Even though he had his own apartment, this still felt the most like home. After throwing his briefcase on the couch, he crossed over to the fridge to grab a beer he knew was kept there just for him. That's when he heard it.

"Don!"

His gun was out before even realizing that he had pulled it. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as he flung open the kitchen door, sprinted across the room and up the stairs taking two at a time.

He threw open his brothers door and quickly assessed what he was seeing. No threat detected, no open window, just his brother violently trashing about in his bed.

He tried to grab his brother's arm and was rewarded with an elbow to the collarbone.

"Ouch!" Don jerked awake rubbing his arm where he had just struck it on the nightstand.

He looked next to him and saw that his shouting hadn't woken Charlie. Looking at his brother he could see, even in sleep how tired Charlie looked.

"What's going on with you buddy?" Don whispered.

Don tried closing his eyes but was immediately assaulted with images from his current case. A case he wanted, no, desperately needed Charlie's help on. He just didn't know how his brother would deal with it, hell he wasn't sure how he was going to continue to deal with it.

Charlie didn't belong in his world; a world of violence and pain. Yet he kept dragging him into it even though he felt increasingly guilty about doing so. Time after time, Charlie proved to be an invaluable tool and member of the team but he wasn't a hardened FBI agent, he was a genius mathematician who had grown up sheltered and protected. He honestly believed that the white hats would always win and he would always find the answer to the equation. He just couldn't seem to grasp the fact that sometimes people did terrible things simply because they wanted to and there was nothing anyone could do to stop them. At least not before many people were made to suffer and die. Some times even children, beautiful, gifted, innocent children who had their whole lives ahead of them. A whole life time to impact and create wonderful change in the world. Sometimes, even they died.

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Alan Eppes grimaced at the tightness in his shoulder as he reached for the cream in the back of the fridge. "Over did it again." He thought ruefully, making a mental note to mention to his youngest offspring that this was HIS house now so maybe Charlie should be the one to weed the garden.

Charlie. The night before came rushing back. He was ripped from slumber at the sound of his son's cries, followed quickly by the pounding of someone running up the stairs. Alan's pulse had sped up as he quietly approached his door and peered out in time to see Don rush to Charlie's bedside. Even though he worried about what was wrong, he knew Donnie could handle it and would call him if he was needed. While Don's job and Charlie's constant involvement cost him many a nights' sleep he was also so proud of his boys. Of the men they had become and more importantly, of the friends they had become.

"We did good Margaret." Alan said fondly to the picture of his wife who died prematurely from cancer.

Alan set the cream and sugar on the table and started upstairs to wake the boys for breakfast. He paused at Charlie's door and looked in on his sons sleeping. It was a rare thing now to be able to watch them sleep, something he had always taken great pleasure in when they were children. Don's forehead was creased in worry even in slumber, with one hand resting on his brother's arm. Charlie usually looked like a peaceful child when he slept but this morning he looked troubled and exhausted. Alan turned and went back downstairs, deciding to yell up for the men so as to spare them any embarrassment at having their slumber party discovered.

"Boys! Breakfast is on the table come and get it."

Less than four minutes later Don appeared at the kitchen table, alert if not rested.

"Charlie is still sleeping. I didn't want to wake him."

"Didn't want to or couldn't?" Alan grinned, well aware of the difficulty Charlie had facing each day.

Don laughed halfheartedly, reaching for the coffee.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you my son, but what brings you by? I know you've been insanely busy lately and I can't see you just deciding to drop by for a visit." Alan inquired carefully.

"I wish it was just a visit dad." Don said bitterly.

"It's about the case your working on? You've come to ask Charlie for help?"

"That was my original intention but now I'm not so sure."

"Why Donnie? Is it that bad?" Alan asked.

"Ya. It's that bad." He said simply.

"Now, you know I don't like your brother being put in harms way but he's tougher that you give him credit for. Besides…"

"It's his decision to make." Charlie stood at the bottom of the staircase.

"Look Charlie, you don't know what you'd be getting into."

"Do you need my help?"

"Well yes but…"

"Well then, how bout you tell me about the case and what I can do."

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After breakfast, mugs of steaming coffee in hand, the Eppes men gathered in the living room to discuss Don's case.

"I'm warning you now, this is a bad as it gets."

Charlie and Alan exchanged uneasy looks.

"Four weeks ago seven year old Jennifer Brice went missing from her home in the middle of the night. There were no signs of forced entry, no signs of a struggle and no ransom note." Don pulled a picture of a sweet looking girl with long cinnamon colored curls and placed it on the coffee table.

"One week later, eleven year old Mark Curtis disappeared from his home, sometime in the night, same MO." He placed another picture on the table next to the first. A young boy with dark mahogany skin grinned cheekily back at them.

"One week after that, Darika Daya age thirteen. Five days later Rachael Lee age six. Then five days ago Samuel Ponting age twelve." Don dropped three more children's photos on the table, his hands slightly trembling.

"That's five missing children in four weeks Don. You think they are connected?" Charlie asked

"Wouldn't you?" Don snapped.

Charlie's brow creased but he ignored his brother's retort. "Ok, so all the same MO. What else do they have in common?"

Don didn't answer for a minute and then taking a deep breath and looking deliberately away from Charlie said, "They were all gifted."

"Gifted?" Alan said "In what way?"

"IQ's off the chart, they all excel at academics and the arts. In all they are extraordinary kids." Was all Don said but the unspoken, 'Like you were Charlie.' hung in the air between them.

Charlie looked startled but said, "Ok I'll need all the data you have available and I'll get to work coming up with a…"

"Two days ago we found Mark Curtis..." Don interrupted and then stopped, closing his eyes seeing the scene again played out behind his eyelids.

"He was dead?" Alan asked gently.

Don nodded opening his eyes. "Ya. We found his body in the park; he had been beaten to death."

"Oh Donnie." Alan shook his head sadly.

"I've never seen anything like it. Almost every bone in his body was broken. Who could do that to such a tiny little boy…" Don's voice trailed off.

Charlie looked worriedly at his older brother. He had never heard him like this before when talking about a case. He was always tightly in control, the only emotion ever evident was anger but now he just sounded sad and lost.

"Donnie, if all these children have been disappearing, why haven't we heard anything about it on the news?"

"Because Jennifer Brice is the daughter of Senator Amanda Brice. At first we thought it was a political kidnapping so of course it was all kept hush hush."

"But what about the others?" Charlie asked. "I would think it would take more than a couple of missing kids for you to connect these cases. How many kids go missing each year? There must be something you're not telling me."

"There is Charlie. And it's the reason I'm not sure I want you on this case."

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