Series:
Numb3rs
Season: 2
Part: 1/1
Rating: K
Disclaimer: Numb3rs and its lovely characters do not belong to me. I just borrow them from time to time.
A/N: I wish to take a minute and THANK CELADON for beta-reading this piece. Celadon, I really appreciate you helping me with my English. I'm also grateful for your suggestions and your support.
Summary: Charlie's actions have repercussions on his working relationship with Don.
R is for Repercussions.
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Alan joined his youngest son at the kitchen table. He sat two cups of tea in front of them before asking: "So, how did it go?"
Charlie sighed. "Well, I'm still in one piece. He didn't chew me up. He didn't even raise his voice once. He was calm, so calm that I found myself wishing that he would start yelling at me – reminding me how stupid I've been. But he didn't."
"Yelling at you never served him in the past," Alan remarked. "You always end up doing whatever you want to do regardless of what your brother tells you. I just wish that he would keep in mind that you can't let go of a bone once you have it. If he did, he would be more careful with the kind of stuff he exposes you to."
"So, you think this is Don's fault, too?" Charlie asked accusingly.
"No. You're a grown man, Charlie. I know you can assume responsibility for your actions," Alan amended. "I just wish Don would keep in mind that you're a university professor and not a trained FBI agent. Who thinks this is Don's fault?"
"Don does, who else? Instead of blaming me for showing up at the crime scene, he's blaming himself. This isn't fair to Don, Dad. I'm the one who screwed up. I'm the one to blame, not Don."
Alan looked away, trying to hide his shame and sadness. Despite the fact that Charlie was getting older, more mature, and less consumed by his mathematical world, they all knew that Alan continued to put a lot of pressure on Don when it came to his responsibilities towards his brother. You're still the oldest, Donnie; the one with more life experience. It's your responsibility to look after your younger brother.
Charlie closed his eyes, his thoughts wandering back to the events of the previous evening and to the two following conversations he had had with his brother – well, if one could call those conversations. Actually, on both counts, Charlie had spoken very little. However, what Don had said and, most of all, his demeanour had told plenty.
The first conversation had taken place at a crime scene where Charlie had shown up unannounced, hoping to share some last minute findings with Don and his team. Charlie had lived to regret his hasty decision. Once there, he had found himself in the mist of the firefight between some gang members and the FBI. Going to the scene had seemed to be the things to do at the time. However, in retrospect, he could now assess how foolish and irresponsible that decision had been. Not only had he put his own life in danger, he had compromised Don and Colby's safety as the two agents had rushed towards him to get him out of harms way.
When things had finally quieted down, Don had walked up to him. Charlie had braced himself for an outburst of anger coming from his older brother, but Don's anger had never surfaced. It had died down along with his adrenaline, leaving him totally drained.
"Are you okay, Buddy?" Don had asked calmly, scanning Charlie for signs of injury with a concerned, critical eye.
"I'm fine. You?" he had replied, suddenly ill at ease under his brother's intense gaze.
"No, I'm not, Charlie," Don had confessed on a solemn tone. "You almost gave me a heat attack."
Charlie had been taken aback by his older sibling's admission for Don rarely did disclose any sign of weakness. It prompted him to look at his brother more closely. What he had seen had worried him – scared him even. In the dim light, Don had seemed to have aged ten years.
"I'm- I'm sorry. I tried to call you but-" he had started to defend himself.
His brother had raised a hand to halt his explanation. "I don't want to hear it, Buddy. Not tonight. David's going to take your statement and you'll be free to go. As for you and me, we're going to talk tomorrow."
On those last words, Don had left him to go handle more pressing matters. Charlie did not see his brother again until that morning. Their following conversation had taken place at the FBI building. Don had invited Charlie to join him in a conference room where he had calmly explained that he could not let Charlie's actions slide without repercussions.
"When I saw him last, yesterday," Charlie began, meeting his father's eyes for a brief second. "Don seemed tired and weary. He looked even worse today." He knew this little piece of information about Don would do nothing to ease Alan's constant worry for his older son, but Charlie could not help himself. He had to share it with his dad – to get it off his chest.
"So, what did Donnie tell you today?" Alan asked.
"That he was not in any position to put an official reprimand in my file, him being my brother and all. He added that he was the one to blame for not reacting more sternly to such actions on my part in the past. That said, he couldn't let this slide anymore. Most of all, he couldn't let this happen again."
"His right, Charlie" Alan agreed. "I take it there are repercussions to your actions."
Charlie gave his father a sideways looks, resenting his last comment. "Well, you'll be happy to know that he isn't going to throw me any bone for a while."
"What constitutes a while?"
"Three months," Charlie told him. "The repercussions are that Don is suspending my consulting contract temporarily. He'll re-evaluate the situation three months from now."
"I see," Alan said soberly. "Three months is a long time. It must have been a very hard decision for your brother. He enjoys working with you."
"And I do, too," Charlie added, looking down into his cup. "I could tell this was affecting him. He didn't say it out loud, but I knew he was disappointed. I really screwed up, Dad, and I fear that Don's going to be the one who will suffer from this the most."
"We're going to be okay, though, right?" Charlie had asked his brother before leaving the conference room.
"I'm sure we will, Buddy. I'm sure we will" Don had answered with a sad smile.
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The End.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little piece. Thanks for reading!
July 2006.
