Brothers

By Childhood Aspirations

Disclaimer: I do not own Numb3rs. You shouldn't look so disappointed...


Why?

Why do I feel this overwhelming urge to shield you from the world, from the world I function in?

We're so different, you and I, yet alike in the passion that drives us. Yours is for numbers, and mine is for…justice, I guess, for lack of a more casual term.

You see? Different. We're very different.

I doubt anyone thinks much on it, but sometimes I wonder how we came from the same blood, the same body, cherished in thought by the same man and woman. It defies the laws of…of, well, of something.

Those sorts of laws are you field of work, not mine. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a law that applied to this. And if anyone would know if it, you would.

So why?

You're an adult. It may have taken me a long time to realize it, but you are. You can hold your own in a room full of geniuses, because you're one too. You can leave me with my mouth hanging open because I have no idea what you just said, and by all appearances, it makes perfect sense to you. You stun my team with what you bring to the table for every case.

You've endeared yourself to all of us, but I don't think any of them feel it quite the same way I do.

It's that thick feeling somewhere in the back of my mind, the corner of my brain devoted to thinking about you when I'm trying to concentrate on something else. It's times like those when I wonder if it's a normal day at CalSci, if you had lunch with Amita and Larry, if one of your students exceeded the normal bounds of intelligence and astounded you as much as you astound me.

You can't have any idea how frustrating that can be.

But I digress.

I feel the need to repeat myself again. Why?

Why, Charlie?

Why do I always feel this way? Why do I feel the need to protect you from everything?

I guess if I were really devoted to doing that, I would quit my work as an FBI agent. Either that or I'd have to pack you and Dad off to some city where no one would try to kidnap you simply because you're related to me.

I don't think you fully comprehend how dangerous it is to be near me. It feels strange to say that about you of all people, but I am anyway. You don't understand.

You get irritated when this need of mine manifests itself in what must come across to you as overbearing.

I certainly can't help it, and you can't really ask me to.

You know, I think I can answer my own question now.

Why?

Because you're my brother. That's why. You're my little brother, no matter how old you get, what you do with the rest of your life, how much you might offend me one day, or anything like that. It's a fact of life, one that I've gotten used to.

I can't change this, Charlie. I can't change who I am anymore than you can change who you are. It would be ridiculous, like us switching places: me picking up your chalk and you picking up my gun…

Yeah, ridiculous.

Anyway, the next time you get frustrated because I don't want you to help out, try to understand why that is. The truth might aggravate you even more than your previous ignorance, but I can't help that either.

Why?

Because younger brothers need protection, no matter what they say to the contrary.

Especially you, because you're my little brother.