Disclaimer: I do not own 'nor claim to own the rights to Numb3rs or any of it's characters. The following story is written for entertainment purposes only.
"If I'd Only Known"
By Lorrie Ellis
3 Disagreements
Mob connections
2 bullets
1 Father's anguish and retribution
Chapter 4 - If I'd Only Known . . . I Wouldn't Argued with You
David took a deep breath before stepping into Amita's empty classroom. "Ms. Ramajuan."
"Yes." Amita answered without turning around.
David cleared his throat causing Amita to turn around. "Oh, I'm sorry. Agent Sinclair, right?"
David smiled. "That's right. Am I interrupting?" He asked.
"No, I was just finishing up here, and it's Amita." She smiled. "Is there something I can do for you?"
David smiled a somewhat grim looking smile. "Amita, there's no easy way to say this. Don was shot this morning and . . . things don't look so good right now. I need to find the right way to tell Charlie. Alan is with Megan at the hospital and . . ."
"Then why are we standing around here?" Charlie's broken voice rescinded from the back of the room. He cleared his throat, choking back the flood of threatening tears. "I need to be with my family." He said firmly.
David nodded and patted Charlie's back as they started out of the office.
"Charlie, would you mind if I came along too?" Amita asked.
Charlie cracked a slight lop-sided smile. "I was hoping you would."
As they walked down the hall, Charlie spoke up. "David, how bad is it?"
"Megan called me when they arrived at the hospital. I don't the specifics, but she said his condition was serious, but stable. They've taken him into surgery."
"What happened?" Charlie asked.
David shook his head as he opened the car door. "Don and your dad were at your dad's office downtown. Alan was there, but we don't know what he saw, in anything."
Charlie's heart sank. Dad was there. Dad saw Don get shot. He closed his eyes once in the front seat, trying to stay calm. "David, why was Don with dad at his office this morning?"
Again David shook his head. "I don't know, Charlie. That's a question for your dad."
As they started towards the hospital, Charlie shook his head and let out a slight mutter of regret.
"What's that, Charlie?" David asked.
"Oh, I was just thinking about Don." He paused. "We were arguing this morning before we each left for work."
"What about?" Amita asked.
"A case we're working on." Charlie's eyes grew large. "That must be it. Dad must have figured out, but how? How could he have known?"
"Whoa Charlie, you're getting ahead of me. What are you talking about?" David asked.
"The gang-mob connection theory I'm working on. I created an algorithm a couple of days ago that broke down the information on the gang leaders and gave us the approximate locations, actually addresses, of where they were holding up. Dad mentioned one of the addresses yesterday, something about some renovations project he and Stan were bidding on." Charlie explained.
"That could explain why they were at the office." David said softly as they pulled into the parking lot. "Hey Charlie, don't mention any of this to your dad right now, OK? He has enough to deal with worrying about Don."
Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I know."
Amita wrapped her arm around Charlie's waist for support as they entered the hospital with David right behind them.
Charlie felt his head swimming and his legs weakening. Numbers, just process the numbers, he thought as he looked down the hallway and saw the numbers posted on an extended piece of plastic above each door, his brain began randomly process the numbers in sequence, finding square roots, noting primes, evens, odds, anything to keep his mind off of the fact that he was once again in a hospital, unable to do anything to help ease the pain of someone he loved.
"Charlie." Amita said softly as they turned the corner into the waiting area.
Alan lifted his head as he heard someone enter the room. "Charlie." He said softly as he rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around his youngest son.
Charlie could feel his father's body shaking as he held to him. He wanted so badly just to run, run out of the hospital, back to his safe world of numbers, even P vs. NP, anything to keep him from seeing his father like this . . . again. But, he knew that there was no one else there to pick up the pieces this time.
Charlie's mind drifted. When Margaret had been diagnosed with terminal cancer, it was Don who had been the strong shoulder to lean on. It was Don who had picked up the pieces and held the family together. It was Don who had given their father the will to go on after burying his wife and it was Don who had finally pulled him from the numbers and back into the real world. He knew that this time, it had to be him.
Charlie resigned himself then and there to be strong, no matter what happened, to be strong for his father and for Don.
"Dad." He said quietly, glancing up to Amita for reassurance. "Let's sit down."
Alan's eyes had been closed. Shamefully, he had been waiting for Charlie to lose it. He had even rehearsed, in his mind, what he would say to console him and now here was Charlie, sounding calm and collected, providing direction for him.
He sat down, as Charlie kept his arm around his shoulder. "What do we know?" He asked calmly.
Tears welled up in Alan's eyes again as the horrific images of the shooting flooded his mind. "He was . . . shot . . . twice." Alan's eyes grew large. "There was so much blood, Charlie." He grabbed at Charlie's arm.
Megan watched the scene unfold and quickly joined them. "Alan, do you want me to fill Charlie in?" She asked gently.
Alan nodded, as his eyes closed. He rubbed his hands down his face and wiped the tears away for what seemed like the hundredth time. How could he tell Charlie that it was his fault that Don had been shot? If only he hadn't opened that damn notebook this morning, none of this would have happened. Why couldn't he have left well enough alone? Why did he tell Don that a few of the addresses matched ones that he and Stan were bidding on and why did he keep the files from his son, knowing that all he planned to do was help? Why had he been so stubborn this morning?
"Alan?" Megan shook him slightly. "Are you still with us?"
Alan drew in a ragged breath and nodded. "I need some air." He said quietly. Megan nodded towards David, who quietly followed Alan outside.
Once Alan left the room, Charlie dropped into the nearest chair. Amita took the seat next to him. "I don't know how long I can keep this up?" He said.
Megan nodded, knowingly. "Charlie, he's your brother. You have every right to . . ."
"To what, Megan? To cry? I can't do that in front of dad, he needs my support more than ever, right now. Maybe to calculate the numbers? I can't do that either, I would be in my 'own little world', as Don would say." Tears were streaming down his face. "To run? I'd like nothing better, but . . . I'm sorry, I know I need to be strong and supportive, but that's Don's role, not mine, and . . ." Amita pulled him into a hug.
Megan sat beside him and placed her hand on his knee. "Charlie, those are the same things I would like to do . . . well, maybe not calculate the numbers." She smiled slightly. "You're right though, your dad needs our support now more than ever."
Charlie tried to regain his composure, realizing that he still didn't really know what was going on with Don. "Megan, tell me what happened."
She studied his face and collected her thoughts before speaking. "It was a drive-by. Don was hit twice in the chest. One bullet went through his left lung; the other was stopped by his shoulder blade. The doctor said she suspected a lot of bleeders, but wouldn't know for certain until they got him into surgery." Her eyes pulled away from Charlie's face.
"But he's going to be OK, right?" Charlie asked.
Megan looked him in the eye again. "Charlie, Don wasn't wearing a vest. They lost him in the ambulance. They were able to resuscitate him once they got him here, but . . . the doctor wasn't . . ."
"Wasn't what?"
Megan sighed. "She wasn't very hopeful, Charlie."
Megan's words hit him like a ton of bricks. He could lose him, he could lose his brother. "Oh God, Don!" He thought. "If I had only known, I would never had argued with you this morning. I would have told you that I love you, or, at the very least, to be careful and have a good day. This can't be the end, Donnie. I need you, we need you. You can't leave us."
TBC
