Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs. I'm just borrowing the characters. I promise to put them back. Even Charlie. ;) This is purely fictional.
Many thanks to my awesome beta, Antoinette.
Special thanks also to elysium1996 for being an ever-willing sounding board
Alan Eppes sat with his wife Margaret, six year old Donnie, and eighteen month old Charlie. Patiently they waited for the counselor.
They were at the Early Intervention Group. Charlie's pediatrician had referred them, since the doctor felt that Charlie might be speech delayed. Margaret didn't like it. She was adamant that there was nothing wrong with her Charlie. Just the same, she decided to follow the doctor's advice. Second opinions never hurt.
"Eppes."
Margaret got up and took Charlie by the hand. Alan took Donnie, and the Eppes family followed the counselor to her office.
The counselor offered toys to Charlie and Donnie, then smiled at Margaret and Alan.
"I'm glad Charlie's pediatrician recommended us to you. We have a team of doctors who would like to observe him, and do a few tests to see exactly where he's at." She smiled pleasantly.
"What kind of tests?" Margaret asked suspiciously.
"Oh, mostly observation while he is given different toys, asked questions... just to see how he responds. We'd like to do this next week, if that's possible," the counselor flipped through her calendar.
Margaret looked at Alan. He shrugged and nodded.
"That's fine." Margaret said, and scheduled the appointment.
The following week...
Charlie sat at a small wooden table. A doctor held Charlie's file in his hands. The doctor flipped through it. "I see his hearing tested as normal," he commented.
He looked down at Charlie, and sat down on a swivel stool. He smiled down at the little boy.
"Hi Charlie." the doctor smiled pleasantly.
Charlie eyed him suspiciously.
"Charlie, can you say 'hi'?"
Charlie continued to stare at the doctor with huge brown eyes, but said nothing.
"Charlie doesn't talk yet." Margaret explained.
"He should be able to say at least fifteen words by now," the doctor said matter-of-factly.
"Well, he doesn't." Alan was getting irritated. "But he is very smart."
The doctor didn't answer, but put down several pictures in front of Charlie, of children doing various activities. "Charlie, who is drinking?" he asked, indicating the pictures. "Just point to who is drinking."
Charlie glanced at the pictures, and then looked over at Margaret, and whimpered.
"Charlie, who is running?" the doctor tried again, indicating the pictures.
Charlie stared at the doctor. His bottom lip quivered.
The doctor continued to ask Charlie questions until the little boy was in tears, and back in Margaret's lap.
The doctor left the room. Margaret and Alan were glad he was gone.
The next specialist came in. She looked over the growing file on Charlie. She gave him a huge smile. "Hi Charlie. I'm Alex. Come sit here with me, Honey. Will you come see something really cool with me?" She patted the small chair next to her and smiled at him. She had a box in her lap. She rattled it, hoping to entice him.
Charlie watched her for a moment, then climbed down from his mother's lap. He cautiously approached Alex.
Reaching into her box, she pulled out several flashcards, and lined them up on the table.
"Charlie, where is the circle?"
Charlie brightened, sat down in the little chair next to Alex, and pointed to the circle.
Alex grinned. "Very good! Where is the square?"
Charlie grinned at her, and pointed again.
"Let's do a hard one. Where is the octagon?"
Charlie pointed.
Alex was surprised, but didn't let on. "Where's the trapezoid?"
Charlie pointed again. His eyes sparkled.
Alex grinned at Margaret and Alan. "Wow, he is really smart. You must be working with him a lot."
The Eppes stared at their little son in amazement. "Uh, no, we didn't teach him that," Alan said slowly.
"Oh. Sesame Street then?" Alex asked.
"Actually, Charlie is bored by Sesame Street." Margaret admitted.
Alex looked surprised. "You're kidding! Well, surely he's getting this from somewhere!"
Margaret shook her head. "I have no idea where."
Several other doctors came in to observe Charlie. They even asked Margaret and Alan questions about their home life.
One doctor brought in a large bag, and poured out several teddy bears in various sizes. Charlie grinned, and began lining up the bears, from smallest to largest.
The doctor watched Charlie lining up the bears, and he clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he looked up at Alan. "Lining up these bears in order is an inappropriate behavior. He may be mildly autistic."
"Impossible." Alan told him angrily. "Watch this."
Alan called his tiny boy. "Come here, Charlie." Charlie looked up at his daddy, with bright eyes. "Come here, Sweetheart."
Charlie toddled quickly over to Alan, and reached up. Alan scooped him up into his arms, and cuddled him. "An autistic child wouldn't do this," Alan said to the doctor icily.
Charlie, hearing his father using a tone he wasn't used to hearing, looked over at the doctor warily, as he pressed himself against Alan's chest.
The doctor left.
The counselor reappeared. "We think Charlie would benefit from speech and cognitive therapy."
"He is only eighteen months old." Margaret said. "Most babies only say a few words at this age."
"Mrs. Eppes, Charlie doesn't say anything. We need to work on beginning sounds. Early Intervention can send a therapist to your home three times a week, for 30 minutes each session. We also feel that cognitive therapy would be beneficial, as well. We can have Alex come out three times a week. She can teach him ways to communicate until he learns to talk."
Alan and Margaret looked at each other. "Is all this really necessary?" Alan asked. "He's so little! No baby can really communicate at this age!"
"Mr. Eppes, I understand what you're saying, but at this rate Charlie will only get further behind in his speech."
"He can't be too behind," Alan retorted. "He sure as hell could identify a trapezoid!"