Disclaimer: I don't own the Eppes family or any other character from Numb3rs.

A/N: this fic idea has been on my mind for awhile now and I've been itching to type it out ever since I found my medical encyclopedias. This disease just interests me so…

Tuesday 6:25pm

It wasn't like Don didn't like working with his brother, but it made him feel worthless at times when Charlie could always provide the right answer and he was the clueless one. Don liked it better when the numbers didn't always come into play and he was the smart one and Charlie was left staring blankly.

Thoughts of how his brother could beat him constantly at poker and chess swirled through his mind, but then twisting back against that gale were thoughts of his little brother being clueless when Amita looked at him and not always being able to adjust to the world of lying people.

His naive little brother didn't deserve to be so wrapped up in things other than those that would help him find a wife, and give Alan the grandchildren he'd been waiting for since they both graduated from college.

So while thoughts of his younger brother were swirling through his head he drove onward through the dark LA streets to his childhood home; eager to make sure that his foreboding suspicions, that arrived to him during the day, were nothing more than an over active imagination.

His headlights shown through the darkness and landed on his brother's garage. He put the car in park and turned to key. The walkway was lightly lit with the porch lamp and he kept his head down against the wind that threatened to lower his spiky hair.

He opened the door knowing that he was never needed to knock there. The warmth of the craftsman home hit him full blast warming his wind-chilled face and limbs. He could hear his father busy in the kitchen. Pots were clanging and something smelled deliciously like Alan's pot roast and freshly mashed potatoes.

He took off his coat and hung it on the hook, then walked into the kitchen to find that his surmise was true. Pot roast, potatoes, and green beans were on the menu for that night.

"Hey, Pop," he said cheerfully upon entering.

"Oh, Don," Alan said, turning from where he stood at the stove mashing the potatoes. "Charlie told me you'd be stopping by for supper. You're a little early though."

"Charlie said he'd go over some equations with me. Is he upstairs?"

"Should be," Alan said returning to the potatoes and adding a bit of butter into the mixture. "I haven't seen him since he came home today. He looked a little out of it, but you know your brother. When he's working on something that's all he focuses on."

"Yea…" Don said quietly thinking back to when he'd been with him earlier today. "Well, I'm going to head up there and see if he's got anything for me."

"Don't take too long Donnie, dinners going to be ready in ten."

"Alright, Dad," Don said heading out of the warm room and up the dimly lit stairs.

So his father noticed Charlie's unfocussed behavior as well. If he hadn't been around his brother for as long as he had he might've just shaken off his spacey-ness, but this time seemed different to him. He didn't seem to have the preoccupied personality that he'd become so accustomed to, now it just seemed like his brother was blurred and unfocused.

As he approached his door he knocked slightly not really expecting an answer. He usually never got one, and wasn't sure why he kept going through the same ritual of knocking only to be left unanswered.

He opened the door quietly and stepped inside. The main light in the room was off but the window shades were open, casting red and gold colors into his brothers unorganized room. He saw his brother's form bent over his desk with his head resting on top of an open notebook and a pile of papers.

Charlie's right arm was under his head and his left arm was limply covering his face, which was looking away from the sun. His eyes were closed and his breathing deep and harsh.

"Charlie," Don said quietly walking to where his brother was seated at his desk. "Charlie?" Don said louder getting worried at the lack of any response.

He put a hand to his forehead and found a high fever radiating against his cool hand. That got Charlie to stir slightly.

Don knelt next his brother's chair and looked at his eyes as they opened slightly.

"Don?" Charlie croaked. His damp eyes shone dimly of pain and fever.

"Hey, buddy."

It looked like he wanted to raise his head to look at his older brother but let out a small weak groan as he found it painful.

"Shut the blinds… light hurts…" he mumbled quietly as his eyes clenched shut.

Don quickly got up and shut the blinds leaving the room only lit by where the sun got through the cracks. He returned to his brother's side to see his eyes barely open once more.

The pain as more evident now…

"Charlie, tell me what's wrong," Don demanded gently.

"It's ok… not too bad… in the dark…"

Don almost expected an answer like that. Charlie had never been good at letting others know when things hurt. He was always the quiet one in school who never acted like the words struck deep enough to chisel away at his soul.

"No, Charlie, you're not ok. You need to tell me what's wrong, and you need to tell me now…"

Don thought he knew what was wrong with him and if he was right he needed to be taken to the hospital immediately. He'd only seen one case of it while he was away at college. One of his fellow students died because his treatment came too late. He couldn't let that be Charlie…

A/N: I have up to chapter 5 written but I really wanna finish NATP before I get all of it out so… I just wanted to throw out the 1st chapt of this to see what people think so send me reviews. I wanna get some feed-back on this!

Thankies!

TheDudeLordOfFantasy a.k.a. Kathleen