Disclaimer: My only purpose in this world is to provide enjoyment to the drooling fans of the CBS television show "numb3rs". As soon as they start airing seven-hour episodes, and doing some serious character development, I will kindly return the boys.

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How Did This Happen? Chapter 14

Although Charlie had not had classes on Fridays that semester, he was headed for campus this Friday, anyway. It was his tradition to offer additional office hours just before finals, and his students knew it. Before he left the aparment, he had called the hospital and asked to speak with Don. His nurse had informed him that Don was sleeping, had passed a restless night, but was doing well, overall.

Students were waiting in the hall for him before 8:00 a.m. At 10:00, ushering one group out and seeing another in line, he had taken ten minutes for himself. He gently closed his office door – something he did so rarely that students always respected the gesture – sat behind his desk and found his cell phone. He managed to get ahold of his father. Alan would probably tell him more than the nurse had.

"Good morning, son!" Alan sounded chipper enough, and had obviously figured out that call display feature.

"Hi, Dad. How's Don this morning?"

Charlie heard a grunt in the background. "We're just loading him up in the car right now, Charlie. He's been released."

Charlie smiled in relief, then frowned. "Who's helping you? Somebody who works for the hospital?"

"No, no." Alan was starting to sound distracted. "Colby and David came by, just in time. They're going to help me get him settled at home,"

Charlie tapped his fingers on his desk. "I would have come, Dad."

"Oh, I know, son. But finals are only a week away, I know how busy you must be!"

Charlie forced himself to take a few seconds. Being busy with finals had never kept him from being part of the family before. He tried to shove aside his hurt feelings. "Well, can I at least come over, later?"

"Colby, have you got that?"

Charlie tried again, a little louder. "Dad!"

"Hm? What? I'm sorry, Charlie, it's a bit hectic right now."

"I asked if I could come over, later."

"Charlie, it's still your house. You can come over whenever you want to. I'm not sure Don will be awake."

Surely he was going to be allowed to see Don, today! "Ever? All day?"

"Well, Charlie, he's still pretty sick. Dizzy, and throwing up. I was afraid they might not let him go, but the doctor says this is normal with a concussion. I have a lot of medication to give him, including something stronger they're finally letting him take for the pain. Getting him home will be a big strain – he'll be exhausted."

Charlie tried to sit quietly and take it like a man, but moisture pressed at the back of his eyes, and he actually sniffed. Alan must have heard him. He spoke more gently. "Tell you what, Charlie. Why don't you and Colleen come over tomorrow – about mid-morning. You know I like to do the marketing on Saturday mornings. You can stay with him while I do that – I won't feel so rushed, if you're here. I'll leave something nice you can all have for lunch."

Tomorrow. Charlie was having an increasingly difficult time believing that there would be a tomorrow. "Can I talk to him now?" He hated the way his voice sounded. Petulant, whiny, needy, weak, begging. Why couldn't he have sounded this way when Robert Tompkins had called him?

"Of course." There was a scratching sound. "Just a minute." Alan's voice, muffled. "David is just fastening his seat belt…thank you, boys!"

More scratching. "'Lo…"

Charlie heard the slur of Don's voice and smiled happily. "Hi, Donnie! How are you, today?"

"Don' geddid. Daz goin to work wid us."

Oh, boy. Don was stoned. "No he's not, bro, you're going home for a few days. It's okay."

"ARLIE!" Don yelled loud enough to make Charlie jump.

"Don?", he asked, apprehensively.

"Thad hurd," Don finished in a confused tone. "Why'd ya do dat?"

"Um…sorry…" Sounded like Dad was right about Don taking the rest of the day off.

"Okee. Dokeee. Arlie, wherzmy shock? Da bloooo un."

Charlie wasn't surprised to hear his father's voice again. "I'm sorry, Charlie, I want to get him home before he's down for the count."

Charlie sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, sounds like you should. Call me if you need something, okay?" Charlie considered slamming himself over the head with the phone until either his head or the phone broke.

There was a few seconds of silence, then the voice Charlie remembered from before everything changed , was there. The father he had before NSA, and Colleen, and the last two weeks. The daddy who always understood him – or at least tried to. "Little One. Don't work so hard. Take care of yourself. You're all right?"

And Charlie remembered that it was harder, when Dad was Dad. He choked back a sob. "Fine. See you in the morning."

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Almost four hours later, when he finally staggered away from his office and stumbled into the faculty lounge, in search of food and water, Charlie decided that he should have gone with the cell-phone-over-the-head bit.

He pushed the door of the lounge open, and slammed it into Amita, who had been just about to come out.

He stared at her in shock. "Oh, no. Amita…Dr. Rajmujan, I'm so sorry. Are you all right?"

She held his eyes for a moment and then glanced down at her wet blouse. "I'm fine," she answered. "It's only water. It will dry."

Charlie noticed then that she was holding a half-full bottle of water. The other half seemed to be on her left breast. He tried not to notice the protruding nipple, tried not to think about what that had felt like in his hand. He looked quickly away. "Please, I'd be happy to replace the blouse…" I'd be happy to rip it off you right now, he thought, and felt himself redden.

She may have noticed, because she suddenly crossed her arms over her chest. "I spoke with Megan, this morning. Some of Larry's students want to send him a message, and I called to ask how to go about that. Anyway, she told me about Don. I'm very sorry. I'm glad he wasn't more seriously injured."

Charlie nodded blindly, still looking somewhere over her right shoulder, and swallowed. "Dad took him home this morning. He's staying at the house."

She stiffened. "Such a happy little group you must be."

He lowered his eyes to hers again, momentarily confused. When he figured it out, he reddened, again. "Oh. Oh, no…Colleen and I aren't there, right now." He decided to leave it at that. He wanted this conversation to be over, before he either threw up, told Amita everything, or kissed her.

She shifted uncomfortably. "I should get back to my office." She looked pointedly at him, and he realized he was still blocking the doorway.

He stepped hurriedly inside. As he turned slightly sideways to avoid touching her, he saw a group of students passing in the hall. They were staring, and snickering. Charlie began to smolder. Amita had done nothing to deserve that. No wonder she wanted off campus. He hung his head a little and contemplated the floor. "I'm really sorry," he whispered.

"Yes," she breathed, as she hurried past. "You are."

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Millions of miles away, Larry orbited the earth and absently twisted his ear. Most of his fellow astronauts were sleeping, and he should have been, as well. He was not on duty.

When he had been earthbound, he had spent countless hours dreaming of moments like this. Experiences that – quite literally – defied gravity. Yet, now that he was living out his dearest fantasy, he found himself thinking on the things of earth.

He thought often of Megan. His only regret in everything was the timing of this opportunity. He had allowed his world to become too small, and she had reminded him how much was out there, just waiting to be known.

He missed his students, but was not sorry to be missing finals. He had spent too many years rotating on the same axis. He would be a better teacher, upon his return.

His hand lowered a little to tug at his earlobe, and he thought of Charlie. He felt an unwelcome uneasiness, as he thought of his friend. He found himself hoping, very hard, that Charlie was well.

He remembered, suddenly, a sentimental suggestion that Megan had made before he left. He had laughed at the absurdity, and had never actually done it. But now, thinking of Charlie, he found himself heading for the observation room.

He wanted to locate just the right star…and make a wish.