Numb3rs
LoveHateTragedyMore
Summary: After his younger brother Charlie is taken hostage by a strange old drunk man, Don works round the clock to find someone named Terry who can help get his brother back in one piece.
Disclaimers: I do not own numb3rs.
AN: I know, I know. I'm still working on the other one, but right now I'm at a writer's block. This one is just something to work on in between the other one. I hope that everyone likes this one though...please leave reviews. Thanks!
A Night Alone
It was quiet. It was also nighttime, though it was not yet as dark as it could get-especially with all the lamps on and the lights in the rooms on. Charlie felt as though the full moon outside barely had any significance whatsoever, even though it seemed to shine outside on the yard and everything else, making the shadows disappear.
He had the house to himself. Don was working late with his team on a case, and his dad was out of town, but bound to come home soon tonight. Everybody else was working, or going to bed. Larry had called and said that he was staying at the campus working on something with Amita's help.
He had decided to watch TV, and was just sitting down and getting ready to watch, when the door opened. He had left it unlocked for his father, should he get home before he went to bed.
"Dad?" Charlie called. "I'm in the living room." There was a few seconds of silence, where he realized that he hadn't even heard the car pulling up. There was only the sound of the door opening, and then Charlie felt a bit of confusion when he heard an old man bellow-
"TERRY!" Charlie shot up quicker than he thought possible, and began to head towards the kitchen, but the old man bet him into the room before he could escape. "WHERE'S MY TERRY!"
"I don't know." Charlie answered, trying to keep calm. With a start, he realized that the old man must be drunk. Great. Just what he needed. And then that was when he saw it-the gun. A .22 caliber pistol was firmly in the old man's grip, and it didn't seem to be leaving him anytime soon. The old man also had a brown paper bag that looked like it was holding an open container of something in it-beer? Charlie's heart pounded as he watched the old man come slowly towards him.
"YOU! You look like that Jacob!" The old man yelled. Charlie heard the tone of anger and bitterness in the man's voice, and backed up a step further, trying to put distance between him and the old man, as well as trying to escape towards the kitchen.
"Sir, I'm not-my name's Dr. Charlie Epps. I work at a college. I think you got the wrong house." Charlie tried to explain, as the old man continuously walked towards him, waving the gun around, pointing it towards him. The old man looked around, and seemed to realize where he was for the first time.
"Huh. Must be drunker than I thought." He snorted. "Shit." Then, his eyes narrowed. "You still look like 'em though."
"I swear to you that I am not Jacob." Charlie said nervously. He wondered who Jacob was, and if he really did look like him-or the old man was just plain drunk. "What's your name?"
"Nathan." The old man answered, still glaring at him. "Sit. Have a drink with me."
"Uh...actually, I was wanting to call my-"
"Cops?" Nathan demanded, now pointing the gun directly at him.
"No." Charlie felt a twinge of guilt as he lied. "My brother."
"Oh. Still out then. You're the only one here?" Nathan asked, curiousity in his eyes. He lowered the gun back down to the floor, but it was still somewhat lifted, and gripped tightly.
"For now." Charlie muttered as he headed towards the kitchen. He had a really bad feeling that the longer the old man stayed, the more trouble there was going to be. He went into the kitchen, still facing the old man as he didn't want to be shot in the back in case he changed his mind, and managed to make it into the kitchen without any incident.
Hurrying to the phone, he snatched it off it's hook, and quickly dialed Don's number. His cell phone was exactly where he'd left it in case someone called-in the living room. The phone rang once before it picked up.
"Charlie, I'm-" Charlie quickly cut through Don's exasperated voice.
"Don. I need some help." He hisssed the words into the phone, hoping that the old man wouldn't come in and start yelling.
"Charlie? What is it? What's wrong?" Don demanded as he heard the note of anxiety in his younger brother's voice.
"There's an old man-" Charlie was abruptly cut off by the old man yelling in the living room again.
"TERRY! Get out of here!" Nathan shouted loudly. "I've got someone here who I might kill if you don't come out of your hiding spot.
"Charlie? Who was that?" Don demanded. Charlie could only manage a breathe of air, before the kitchen door swung open, and Nathan came storming in, waving the gun in the air.
"You're talking to the cops, ain't you boy? I know you are, don't deny it." Nathan snarled. He took a swig of the item in the brown bag. Charlie caught the sent and grimaced. Whiskey.
"No. I'm talking to my brother." He lied.
"Hah!" Nathan snorted. "Your brother could be a cop!" He narrowed his eyes at Charlie, and seemed to think of something. "Give me that." He ordered, geustering at the phone.
"What? No-" Charlie yelped as the gun smacked into his head, and he was thrust aside into the counter.
"Now listen-bring me Terry, my daughter, and I might not hurt your brother. After all, I could mistake him for Jacob, and shoot him anyway like I have planned ahead of time." There was a brief silence.
"Good." Nathan said in a satisfied tone. "We'll wait here, have a few drinks, while you bring me my daughter. You have three hours. What, three aren't enough? Well, they should be. Work with three, and you'll have your brother back so long as you can get me my daughter back. And he'll be unarmed...well, exept for the bruise I just delt him. No worries...just a brief hit on the head for not doing as I asked." Nathan's eyes narrowed, and then he swiftly hung up the phone. Charlie was heading towards the other door that led towards the backyard, stopping only when Nathan turned and held the gun on him.
"Don't go anywhere...Mr. Epps." He ordered. "You and I are going to have a few drinks, and you're going to look pretty for your brother so that when he arrives he can see that I held true to my promise." Charlie swallowed, and said,
"I don't drink whiskey."
"Young man like you, you should drink every now and then. A few drinks aren't going to kill you. This gun here might, if you disobey me however." Nathan said menacingly. Charlie hesitated, and started to walk towards the living room. "Excellent." And with a small smile, Nathan continued to urge Charlie forward with the gun into the living room. And all Charlie could think was...please hurry, Don. Please.