Disclaimer: I obviously do not own NUMB3RS or anything related to it.
The rumbles of engines and the far-off screeches of sirens rattled the silence of David's apartment. He pulled the bed sheets up to his chin and rolled over yet again. His body had long been ready for sleep, worn out from a tough day's work, but his mind was racing. As hard as he tried, he could not banish the thought of Colby from his head long enough to catch a brief moment of rest. When Colby had revealed himself as a spy, when he had been in jail, David had spent hours trying to understand what had happened. He had eventually begun to accept that he had been used and betrayed, and that everything that he and Colby had between them had meant nothing.
But now, though, now that Colby was back and working for their team again, now that he had proven that he was working as a triple agent, David could no longer understand. He wracked his brain trying to find a reason for it all, unsure whether to try to forgive Colby or to blame him.
Colby may not be a traitor to the country, David thought, but that doesn't mean he's not still a traitor to me. What happened to everything we had? Weren't we supposed to have trusted each other, to have loved each other? What happened to that?
These thoughts bounced around David's head, plaguing him with wakefulness, until slivers of sunlight began to sneak through the slats in the blinds. He kicked aside the tangle of sheets that had wrapped itself around his body as he tossed and turned in the night, and dragged himself to his feet. Robotically, he showered, shaved, dressed, and drove down to the office. He rehearsed in his head everything he wanted to say to Colby, just as he had done every day since his partner had returned to the team.
"How's it going David?" Don asked when David had taken his place at his desk. "You doing all right?"
"I guess," he replied, shrugging.
"All right," said Don. "Just let me know if anything's wrong or if you need anything, okay?"
"Yeah, sure. No problem."
David busied himself with work on one of the day's cases, trying to ward off thoughts of Colby. Just as he was beginning to become wrapped up in his work, he heard the approach of footsteps behind him. There was only one person to whom they could belong.
"Hey, David," came Colby's voice, apprehensively.
Out of the corner of his eye, David could see his partner standing nervously by his shoulder. He merely grunted a response and tried to make himself look busy with the case. Obviously aware of David's attempt to ignore him, Colby resigned to his desk to do his own work. Not a word was said between the two of them. As David attempted to concentrate on his case work, he thought he could sense Colby's gaze on his back. He wrestled with the urge to turn around, to say something. He could not bring himself to do it. Every time he managed to muster up the courage, the words vanished from his mind. He had spent hours and days working through what he would say to his onetime partner and lover. But now he could not call up the words. He was not even sure he wanted to.
