Author:DreamBrother

Disclaimer:Numb3rs isn't mine.

Author's Note:Hey guys, thanks for the reviews and input (Susan, I took the Charlie bit from episodes like Hot Shot, Harvest, Money for Nothing, where he just meets up with Don and Don starts talking when asked, but thanks for your suggestions, it means a lot that you're willing to help me out with the technicalities.). I'll try my best to channel my inner-Grissom. Live and learn, right?

Can you imagine, I was listening to some of the songs of Les Misérables while writing this? Don and Charlie and Jean Valjean…Hmm. Dreamed up this chapter (literally) but couldn't type it down after because I was going into London that day. Brother #2 can be awesome when he wants to be, it turns out. If I've messed up on procedure etc, then… Oops :)

Reference made to Assassin.


Guarding the Guardians

(Part III)

Interlude

Charlie quietly opened the front door to the house and tiptoed inside, doing his best to close and lock the door behind him noiselessly. It was late and he didn't want to wake his father. With finals to be graded and the murderer of two federal agents to help find on top of that, Charlie was a busy, busy man and had been so for the last few days. Turning around, he began to creep his way towards the stairs, mentally trying to remember which stair was it exactly that creaked and was responsible for his parents catching Don trying to sneak out of the house for a party late one night during their senior year in high school. He had barely taken a few steps when a voice called out of the dark to him:

"And where do you think you're going? And coming from?"

Charlie whirled around, shock clearly etched onto his face to see his big brother sitting on the sofa, legs put up onto the coffee table, exhaustion lining his features yet he wasn't in a sleeping position.

"Don! Didn't see you there," commented Charlie.

"Clearly. You haven't answered my question," said Don, watching his brother. His words may have been meant to be light but his flat tone dispelled any humorous intent.

"Well, since I own the house, and I'm not a minor any longer, out without his parent's permission, I do not have to answer you," argued Charlie.

"You're in luck. I'm too tired to get my Sherlock Holmes cap on and use the powers of deduction to figure out where you were," replied Don.

"One would assume that if you're tired, you make an effort to sleep, not to sit in the dark and wait for your little brother to come home," commented Charlie, "Wait, you weren't waiting up for me, were you?"

"Do I look like a parent to you?" asked Don, allowing himself a small smile at the thought of him turning into Alan, complete with the white hair and the hands on hips.

"For Dad's sake, if only," replied Charlie, "Finally decided to take a break from the office?"

"Colby, Megan and David decided for me. They ganged up on me, threatened dire consequences and added that Jim, one of the surveillance guys, would contact them if I tried to sneak back in before 7 am," informed Don, turning his head and staring straight ahead, into the darkness. Looking at what? Charlie had no clue.

"Uh huh… So you're going to resist by not sleeping?" asked Charlie.

"No, I just don't feel like sleeping, you know?" replied Don.

"Erm… No, I don't. It's pretty simple math to me, I feel tired, I sleep. Something you could do with," advised Charlie, coming over to sit in the leather chair next to the sofa. Noticing the black jacket his brother still wore, he asked, "What's with the suit? You usually go for casual during a case."

"Funeral," came the clipped reply.

"Oh," Charlie paused, then tried for cautious, "No new leads on who the killer is?"

"You'd know if I knew. And your math hasn't been able to come up with anything definitive, so a strike out in that area as well," said Don. "The surveillance footage only caught the agents as they were walking and got shot, nothing of the shooter. Either he's very good or very lucky. Colby and David are looking into how somebody could have found a blind spot in the surveillance."

"Maybe the guy's reflection was caught on the cars or mirrors and windows. I could try to run some photo enhancement on that but I can't promise any results," offered Charlie.

"It's ok Charlie; anything we try now is going to be a long shot. Unless we get a tip or something, or the guys kills again and slips up, our chances of finding him aren't looking too good right now," said Don. "Hell, even knowing the motive would be good. Collins's wife and Harper's parents and eventually, his kid, would really like to know why their husband, son and father are dead, even if they don't know who did it."

"I think I can understand that. In the long run, it doesn't really matter who pulled the trigger, your loved one still isn't going to come back," added Charlie quietly. This was territory Charlie was not very familiar with, and to be honest, he didn't want to be. As he'd told Gabriel Ruiz a year ago, he didn't think about Don's work at the FBI and the constant danger he was in, very much. But here it was, shoved into his face, that people like Don could get shot for being who they were whilst just walking towards, or away from, their car.

"I guess… but it'd be really nice if we could put the bastard behind bars, or on death row, as well," said Don.

"From an investigator point-of-view, yes. But after the killer has been sentenced to life imprisonment, or given the needle, there'd be nothing left to distract ourselves with and have no choice but to think of the result of the killer's actions," philosophized Charlie.

Don glanced at his brother, taking in his expression, and asked dryly, "Not speaking from experience, are we?"

"No, of course not, don't be an idiot," said Charlie. But maybe from the potential to experience something like that one day, thought Charlie.

"Shouldn't you be in bed by now? Don't you have classes to teach in the morning?" asked Don, remembering where his brother had been headed before he had stopped him, artfully hiding his true intent of wanting to spend some time with his brother behind the façade of a disapproving parent-act, a little peace in his otherwise stressful day. No matter how many times he saw it, crying widows and grieving parents were never easy to witness. Having to offer your condolences to them was another ball-game entirely, especially when you knew the deceased well and had worked with them for a long time, arguing with Boston native Red Sox fan Collins somewhere along the line and trying to out-bluff Harper during a game of poker. Add in the fact that the weight was on your shoulders to try and find the murderer, before he killed again or disappeared forever…

"Shouldn't you be in your bed? Don't you have murderers to catch in the morning?" retorted Charlie. "Come on bro, you're doing nothing for yourself just sitting here in the dark when you could be resting."

"You sure can be bossy late at night," grumbled Don as he stood up and stretched, easing the stiffness in his joints. Don was just about to follow his brother towards the stairs when the sound of his cell phone ringing filled the air.

I could really begin to hate that sound, thought both brothers.

"Eppes," said Don, answering the phone quickly. "Where? Ok, be there in 15."

Hanging up the phone, Don looked at his brother and shrugged apologetically, "Looks like sleep will have to wait. An ATF agent's been found murdered. See you around, buddy."

Charlie stood rooted in his place as he watched his brother exit and leave.

Another agent…, thought Charlie worriedly.

TBC


Now this is more my territory. Hope you liked. But another agent bites the dust. The plot thickens (like soup?). One question, for somebody who knows, can you identify that the gun is the same one from the bullet casings it leaves behind at different places?

Man, I love 'Work Song' and 'Look Down' from Les Miserables. John Owen-Jones is one excellent singer.

Harry Potter coming out soon -drum roll-, bet you'd rather read that. But before then, review, s'il vous plait?