Charlie Eppes was standing where he usually stood at this time of the afternoon- at the chalkboard in his office, busily scratching chalk across the surface, brows scrunched tight in concentration. Canned music came softly from the headphones hugging his ears, and it was almost enough to block out the sound of knocking coming from the door. Although he discounted the first few beats as nothing more than his own noise, it became apparent that he did indeed have a guest.
Flipping the headphones off and around his ears, Charlie set down the chalk on his desk and hurried over to the door, absently humming the tune of a song beneath his breath, assuming that no one else would bother him during his lunch hour outside of Amita or Larry. However, upon opening the door, about to ask his friends why they bothered knocking for once, he was met with a somewhat familiar face.
Wide eyes stared at him, about level with his own, but brown and filled with something that Charlie identified as fear. Curiosity piqued, Charlie took a moment to think about why he recognized the face, and it came to him readily enough. The skinny, pale, and frightened boy had been part of Larry's advanced study class, a group of only fifteen kids or so, intent on studying the relation between gravity and relativity. Charlie only recognized this boy because he had to fill in for Larry one day while he was out ill, and this boy had captured a certain interest of his. Of course, Larry spoke of him often, the star pupil, youngest mind currently at CalSci, with a bright talent for cosmology.
"Thomas, hey, what's up?" Charlie inquired with a smile, looking the young boy over quickly. Thomas had books clenched in his hands, a white knuckle grip around them, and that brought Charlie's attention to something rapidly, something he knew he shouldn't have overlooked.
Blood was trickling down from a cut above Thomas' eye, and a bright purple bruise was beginning to form a ring around his eye. His lip was also split open, blood streaming down his chin, these fresh wounds marring what Charlie could only remember as a young and innocent face.
"P-professor Eppes" Thomas stuttered, eyes flickering rapidly back and forth, avoiding Charlie's gaze. "I-I didn't mean to bother you, I'll come back later, I didn't mean to bother you" he continued, about to turn on his heel. Although the sight of blood initially spurred Charlie into a form of shock, he couldn't help himself from grabbing Thomas' shoulder, preventing him from turning away.
"Thomas, what happened?" Charlie asked, leaning in closer to examine the extent of the damage, bringing a worried and shaking hand up to Thomas' face, running a thumb up across his eyebrow to wick away the small trickle of blood. Thomas flinched away at first, but quickly turned his expression from fear to embarrassment.
"It… It's nothing, okay? I just have a question about my thesis, and Professor Fleinhardt wasn't in. Do you mind looking over my notes? If it's too much trouble, I can come back another time-"
But Charlie couldn't help but feel sickened at the sight of the blood, the feel of the blood on his thumb, the sight of this young boy marred by violence. With a steady hand on Thomas' shoulder, he led the boy into his office, cutting him off mid argument.
"Listen, we can talk about your thesis later, but what happened? Did you get into a fight?" Charlie continued to question as he led Thomas to a chair, sweeping the papers off of it to provide the young boy a place to sit. Thomas took it warily, and Charlie hunted for the small first aid kit he was required to keep in his office, the one he swore that he wouldn't misplace. Charlie's stomach was already churning at the thought of the older college boys turning against this young genius, a boy that Larry had told him was not a day older than sixteen. Still a bit older than himself at the time of university, but still impressively young.
Thomas squirmed where he sat, books still clutched tightly in his grasp, and Charlie watched out of the corner of his eye as he continued his hunt. The boy ran his tongue over the split lip, and Charlie then decided to abandon the search for the first aid kit. It was more than obvious to his eyes that the boy was uncomfortable, a likely shyness only amplified by his own presence, and the presence of the wounds on his face. With a heavy sigh, Charlie pulled a smile onto his face, sitting down at the chair behind his desk, trying to put the boy's nerves at ease and give him a chance to explain.
"Well" Thomas started, seemingly biting down on his inner cheek, still refusing to meet Charlie's eyes. "It doesn't really matter what happened to me. Some of the older guys from the physics department acted like I had the answers to something I didn't have the answers to, and well, they thought they could beat it out of me, I guess" he trailed off softly, running a hand through the scruffy hair on his head.
Charlie felt nothing other than a pain of regret in his heart that Thomas was going through this, and the burning desire to give this young boy vengeance on his tormentors, but the intellectual portion of his mind was running faster and above the emotional. He knew more than well that Thomas was only a sophomore student, and hadn't begun the work on his thesis.
"Thomas," Charlie prompted softly, putting his hands on the desk, staring at the young student with what he imagined was a knowing eye. Charlie knew that he had never been stellar at dealing with students, especially younger students, on an emotional level. It was ironic, considering that he should be able to relate with them better than anyone else, but his social skills seemed to inhibit his excellence in this one subject. After a moment of silence, which led Thomas to squirm uncomfortably, Charlie continued.
"It isn't your thesis you're working on, is it? I know that you're a bright boy, Thomas, and that makes you a target. Trust me, I know. But I won't stand for people pushing you around like this."
"I'm strong!" Thomas cut in, suddenly looking up, and Charlie was glad to see that the flow of blood had ebbed, although the initial joy was cut back by the fact his one eye was now almost swollen shut. The conviction in the young student's statement filled Charlie with something akin to despair, at this young soul's inability to understand just how much greatness awaited him once he worked his way out of this hellhole called college.
"I wasn't doubting your strength, Thomas. I know that you're strong, stronger than them. But helping them cheat their way through this, taking these beatings, this isn't the way to go. Now, I'll help you with anything that you need, including getting back at these kids."
Thomas didn't reply right away, only looked at Charlie with a look that held fear, but much less of it. Instead, the tight drawn lips indicated that most of the fear was replaced with something that Charlie prayed he identified correctly- hope. In fact, his assurance that this was the actual feeling that Thomas had grew as the seconds passed, and the fear continued to ebb. Suddenly, a thought dawned on Charlie, one that he couldn't help but voice the instant it came to his mind.
"You did come here for help, and not just on their thesis. You thought I could help you out with other things, like those boys, didn't you?" Charlie couldn't help but feel a smile cracking on his face, the thought that he may have figured out what was wrong in such a short period of time. It took a minute, but Thomas nodded shyly, a display that Charlie knew took courage. For a young man to admit weakness, and to admit need, was an act of bravery. Thomas spoke again, and Charlie pretended to ignore, for the sake of Thomas' pride, the cracks in his voice.
"I just didn't think anyone else would understand. I figured that you, if anyone here, would have some ideas for what to do, and I mean, I am interested in the idea for his thesis, I really am, but I know it's wrong to do it. But I think I might have solved a key point of his equation, and I would feel better if you looked over it."
"Thomas, you do understand, if I help you with this, and you have worked on his thesis, I have to report him, and he'll face consequences? That he can't turn this work in as his?"
And that was when, for the first time since Thomas walked into the office, Charlie saw the hints of a smile on his face. Once again, the social intelligence picked up to Charlie's racing mathematic intelligence, and the professor couldn't help but smile as well.
"That's what you wanted, isn't it? You didn't just want help- you wanted justice."
Thomas nodded eagerly, and placed the papers that he had been clutching in his hands so tightly onto Charlie's already cluttered desk, opening the tattered folder and letting loose leaf edge out from the paper barriers. Numbers were already filling Charlie's mind, and he was hungry for knowledge, despite this branch of physics not being his strongest interest. And in that moment, when he looked into Thomas' eyes, he saw that the pain was fading, and a strong love for numbers had taken over his thoughts. And that was all that Charlie needed to assure him that he was doing the right thing.