Title: Blood Relatives
Author: Roth
Rating: T
Spoilers: I don't do spoilers
Disclaimer: I don't own Numb3rs and neither do you. We don't have a problem so please don't sue.
Summary: There is a serial murderer on the loose with a history with the FBI, but what is his agenda?
Note: I hope you enjoy the chapter. I don't know when the next one will be up. I have finals coming up. It may be quick it may be slow. It'll be a surprise for all including me. I hope you enjoy. BYES!
Blood Relatives
Chapter Twenty-One
"Near death scenes are my favorite...except for when they involve me." Sarah and Reed
He was not going down like this; Kade had promised that to himself when he started this years ago. He was not going to quit until they were all dead, and as he lay on the floor bleeding profusely from the stab wound in his chest feeling pain every time him took a breath, he knew what he had to do.
The gun he had dropped when the damn professor had thrown that paperweight had skidded across the floor and landed close to where he was now. In fact, he could feel the cool metal of the gun with his fingertips. As carefully and as quickly as he could, Kade grabbed the gun and brought it around to point directly at the professor.
Kade heard a new voice shout as he pulled the trigger, and smiled when he heard a scream of pain from the professor. He felt white hot pain flare up his back, but that didn't bother him now. He was finished, and everyone knew it. Kade slipped into the darkness with a smile on his lips.
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"This could not be happening," was all Don could think as he pulled out his gun and fired once. Kade's body slumped to the ground as a bloodstain bloomed across his back; the gun lay just an inch away from his outstretched hand.
Don quickly dropped to his knees beside Charlie reaching out the bloodstain that was spreading across the upper right part of Charlie's chest. "Oh my God," murmured Don, looking around the office for anything he could use to staunch the blood flow. He saw a rag, that looked like Charlie used for cleaning the chalkboard, lying on Charlie's desk and grabbed it. Don pressed it against Charlie's chest and winced involuntarily when Charlie cried out in pain and started to fight against him. "It's me, Buddy!" said Don, feeling helplessness start to seep into his system. "It's Donnie." He reached out and placed his hand on Charlie's shoulder to help hold him still.
"Charlie?!" Don heard Terri shout from behind him.
Don looked back over his shoulder. "Call an ambulance!" he shouted as he turned back toward his brother.
"Paramedics are already on their way with the back-up," said Terri, kneeling down next to Don. There was a shrinking feeling in her stomach as she stared at the blood slowly seeping across Charlie's chest and pooling beneath him.
"It's not slowly down," cried Don, dejectedly, watching as the pool of blood pooled beneath their knees.
Terri furrowed her brow in frustration. "Maybe there is an exit wound. Lean him forward a little bit."
Don could almost feel every ounce of pain Charlie was as they leaned him away from the desk, and Don wanted to stop and let his brother rest even if that was the stupidest thing in the world he could do.
"N-no-no," muttered Charlie, attempting weakly to push their hands away. Don took hold of his brother's hand as gently as he could while Terri looked at his back.; Don could see, from where he was kneeling, the bullet hole in his brother's desk.
"Oh God," murmured Don quietly. He didn't notice his brother's eyes shoot up toward him when he said that.
"Is there another rag?" asked Terri desperately as she pressed her bare hand against the exit wound on Charlie's back in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.
Don frantically looked around the room for anything Terri could use, but his search came up empty. Now, Don was scared to death.; before, he had been panicked, worried but still in control. However, Charlie was now bleeding from two bullet wounds, and Don couldn't do a damn thing about it but pray that the paramedics got there soon.
Don hung his head down as he fought back the tears that were pooling behind his eyes. While he was looking down, Don could see the puddle of blood was still slowly but surely growing; Terri's hand wasn't doing much to stop the wound on Charlie's back. "Please, God," Don thought praying for the first time in what felt like years. "Please don't let my brother die."
Don was so lost in his silent prays that he didn't really hear his brother say his name. It wasn't until the third time that Don looked up.
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Charlie's chest was on fire as well as his back, and no matter what he did to try and stop them, Don and Terri wouldn't leave him alone. All he wanted to do was sleep, and neither of them seemed to want to let him do that.
Suddenly, in his pain filled mind, everything seemed to fall into place. The reality of the situation finally hit home, and fear took a tight grip on his heart. "I'm going die." Charlie noticed for the first time that Don wasn't looking at him anymore.
Charlie reached up and grabbed Don's hand and weakly tried to get out his brother's name. "D-Don?" his brother didn't look up. "D-D-Don? D-Don?!"
His brother looked up, and Charlie was shocked to see tears threatening to slip down his brother's face; his voice shook as he spoke. "Hol-hold on, Buddy. Paramedics are going to be here any second."
Charlie shook his head and struggled to continue. "D-Don, I-"
"Don't talk, Buddy," ordered Don. "You just need to hold on, Charlie, for a little while more."
Charlie ignored him and continued to try and speak. "Don, I'm-I'm sorry. Tell-tell D-Dad I'm s-sorry."
"No, Buddy. Hang on. You're going to be fine."
Charlie closed his eyes for a moment as tears began to slip out the corner of his eyes; he felt terrible for having to do this to Don, but right now, Charlie was positive he wasn't going to be around to do it later. Charlie winced as he felt Terri readjusted her hand on his back; what scared him, however, was how much duller than it had been before. He could faintly hear a commotion in the room, but most of his attention was focused on his brother.
"Do-on?"
"Buddy, just hang on, the paramedics are here."
"Tell-ell Dad I-I love him." Charlie watched as a few tears escaped from Don's eyes. Charlie winced again as Don and Terri laid him back onto the floor; Don however had grasped his hand tightly as the paramedics went to work. "I-I lo-love you." That must have been the last straw for Don because suddenly a flood of tears went down his face.
As the world melted into blackness, Charlie thought he heard Don say, "I love you too, Charlie..." But Charlie wasn't sure if he had imagined it.
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"I love you too, Charlie. You just need to hold on a little bit longer." Don's heart sank when he saw his brother's eyes slip shut and the weak grip on his hand go limp. "Charlie? Charlie?!" Don wished he could have leaned over and forced his brother to wake up, but now the paramedics were pushing him away from his brother, and Terri's gentle hand on his shoulder was drawing him a good five feet away from his brother.
"Let them do there job, Don," Terri said quietly into his ear; he swore he heard he voice waver a bit. "You've done all you can for him."
Don nodded solemnly and wiped the back on his hand beneath his eyes; he didn't realize he smeared blood across his cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, Don could see two paramedics working on Kade; he couldn't believe it. Paramedics were actually trying to save the life of the bastard who had tried to kill his baby brother. If he had been the only one in the room, Don was pretty sure he would have shot Kade several more times.
Terri's comforting grip brought him back to reality again. "Don, they're getting ready to go."
Don looked away from Kade, although he was comforted to hear the paramedics declare Kade dead, and saw the paramedics raising the gurney holding his brother. Charlie's blood-soaked t-shirt was gone, and his chest was wrapped in layers of pressure bandages and an oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth. It took all of Don's energy not for him to pass out then and there.
"Can I come with?" Don asked one of the paramedics before he could even think; he followed the paramedics out of Charlie's office.
"Don't you have to deal with that guy back there?" asked one of the paramedics.
Don wasn't looking at the paramedics; his attention was wholly on the pale face of his brother. "Back up is going to deal with it," said Don as detached as could be.
The paramedic looked over Don's head at Terri. "This is his brother," she said quietly.
"You can ride along," said the paramedic, "but you cannot get in our way."
Don nodded as the gurney burst through the doors of Charlie's building.
"I'll stay here and deal with back up. Then, I'll go and get your dad."
"Oh, God. My dad." Don turned around for a moment, but Terri pushed him forward.
"I'll explain it to him. Now go!"
Don climbed into the back of the ambulance after Charlie was loaded up, and the paramedics closed the doors. Terri was left alone in the parking lot; back up was already inside.
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Now matter how many times Alan paced across the living room, it wasn't going to do any good. He still couldn't believe that Donnie had just hung up on him like that leaving him with no idea what was going on. He tried calling Don's cellphone several times, but the phone was either busy or no one answered. "Please let them be okay," Alan thought aloud. "Please just let them be okay."
He lifted the phone in his hand again to try and get a hold of Don, but a loud knocking on the door ripped his thoughts away from the phone. Almost sprinting from the living to the front door, Alan threw open the door hoping to see one or both of his sons standing in front of him. He was instead greeted by a rain-soaked Terri at the door.
"Where's Donnie?" were the first words out of Alan's mouth.
"Alan," started Terri, not knowing what to say. How was she supposed to tell this man that one of his sons was on the way to the hospital with a gunshot wound. "Alan, there's no easy way to say this-"
"Are Donnie and Charlie okay?" Alan demanded, cutting her off.
"Don's fine, physically anyway."
"And Charlie?"
"Charlie and Don are on the way to the hospital right now. Alan, Charlie got shot." Terri knew the second her words hit home. Alan's already pale face went ashen and he gripped the doorframe tightly. He noticed for the first time the large amount of blood on Terri's hands. "Are you okay Alan?"
"What hospital?" demanded Alan, closing the door behind him.
"Los Angeles Community Hospital," replied Terri, following Alan off the porch as he rushed over to the car.
"Take me there." Terri nodded and ran through the rain to the driver's side of the car.
As they both climbed into the vehicle, they were thinking the exact same thing: if one brother was lost tonight, both brothers would be gone.
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Don felt as if the world was moving in slow motion, and he wished so badly he could push fast-forward to speed these paramedics up. The two bustled around his brother checking his blood pressure, his pulse, and the bandages on his back and chest, and all of these things seemed pointless to Don.
He sat on the side with his hands clasped together tightly silently saying over and over in his end. "Please don't die, Buddy. Please don't die." It wasn't until he heard the heart monitor connected to his brother flat-line, and a paramedic shout, "We're losing him!" that Don stopped the mantra.
"Buddy?" murmured Don quietly. "Buddy?" He tried to stand up and go over to his brother, but the paramedic pushed him back onto his seat.
"Stay back, sir,"said the paramedic forcefully.
Don could only watch in horror as the paramedics tried to bring his brother back with the defibrillator and pray for the hundredth time in the last hour. "Please come back, please come back, please come back." Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized he knew exactly what Aaron felt those eight months ago.
Over his mantra, Don heard the most beautiful sound in the world; a beep from the heart monitor. The second was even more beautiful, and the third sounded like a choir of angels. "Thank you," murmured Don over and over. "Thank you." He stared his brother's face hoping the heart beats would last.
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The sounds of stressed out families and crying children fell on the deaf ears of Alan as he and Don sat in the ER waiting room. Alan hated hospitals more than hated any other place in the world. He would rather spend a week in a DMV than an hour in the hospital for two reasons. One, hospitals meant bad news, and two, hospitals meant death. Beside him, Don was hunched over in his chair with Terri sitting on the arm of the chair gently rubbing his back.
"I'm sorry, Dad," Don said for the fifth time since Alan and Terri had arrived at the hospital; Alan didn't envy the twenty minutes Don had to sit in the waiting room by himself.
"Donnie, this is not your fault," Alan replied again. "You did everything you could."
Don sighed; he hated that reply. If he had done everything he could, then Charlie wouldn't be in the emergency room. Don shook his head fighting back the urge to cry. He was already breaking down, he didn't need to cry again, too. "I was standing right there, Dad. I-I was standing right in the doorway to Charlie's office. I could see Kade, I could see Charlie, and I didn't do anything. I sh-should have got my gun out faster, I-I should have realized what Kade was up to, I should have ma-made Charlie stay home some how. I know there has to be something I could have done."
Alan put his arms around Don's shoulders and pulled his son in a loose embrace. "This was not you fault, Donnie," Alan murmured quietly into Don's ear. "What would have happened if you didn't show up to CalSci when you did?"
Don shrugged his shoulders, his ultimate sign of defeat. "He would have died," muttered Don.
Alan turned to Terri, and she nodded sadly. "You saved Charlie's life, Don," said Alan. Terri began to rub Don's back again."
"Not if he dies here," mumbled Don dejectedly.
Alan gritted his teeth, and his tone turned almost menacing. "That won't happen, Donnie. That won't happen."
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Alan wasn't sure how long he sat in the chair with Don leaning against him while Terri kept a comforting hand on his son's shoulders, but he did know it was long enough for his arm to fall asleep. As carefully as he could, Alan shifted Don's weight a bit to give his arm a chance to wake up, but the shift was enough for Don to sit up all the way and lean back in his own chair.
"Are you okay?" asked Alan, putting his hand on his son's shoulder.
"I'll be okay when I know Charlie is," was all Don said back.
Alan opened his mouth to reply but closed it when an older looking man in a white lab coat came walking over to them.
"Are you here for a Mr. Charles Eppes?" asked the doctor, taking in their appearance carefully. Alan knew the blood on both Terri and Don probably threw the man off.
"Yeah," replied Alan, nodding his head numerous times. "Yes, I'm his father and this is my son Don."
The doctor turned to Terri. "You are, ma'am?"
Before Terri could reply, Alan answered for her. "His sister."
The doctor shrugged his shoulders and then continued speaking. "I'm Doctor Jack Skelling. I've been handling your son's case since he was brought in, and I've got to say your son is a very lucky man." Alan let out a huge sigh of relief, and he felt Don relax in the chair next to him. "Don't get me wrong," said the doctor, "he's not out of the woods yet. His body has had some terrible trauma. The bullet managed to pass straight through with doing any major damage."
"But," started Don, "in the ambulance, he-he stopped..."
"I know," said Dr. Skelling. "His heart couldn't take pumping such a little amount of blood. We've given him several blood transfusions, and he was in surgery to repair the damage the bullet did do. Right now, he's in the recovery room. Afterwards, we're moving him to a room in the ICU for the next twenty-four hours. If everything goes okay and there's no more complications, we'll move him to a normal room for the rest of his stay. In my personal opinion, I see no reason why your son won't make a complete recovery."
"Thank God," muttered Alan; Don was unusually quiet. "Can we see him?"
"Only one person is allowed in the recovery room," said Dr. Skelling. "Once you decide who's going, I can take you up there."
"You go," Don said quietly to his father. "You should go."
Alan's brow creased in confusion, and he stared at his son. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," said Don, standing up slowly. "I need to go get some air. You should go see him."
"Alright," said Alan. He stood up also and pulled his son into a hug. "I'll be back soon."
After the doctor and Alan had walked away, Terri turned toward Don. "Are you alright?"
Don took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face. He nodded slowly, and Terri was pretty sure she could hear him laughing. "Don?" she said quietly, placing her hand on his shoulder. It was good timing because at that moment the laughter turned to tears, and Don's legs suddenly gave out nearly knocking Terri down. She struggled to get Don into a chair and told the hospital staff to step back when they all rushed over.
"He's gonna make it," muttered Don over and over. "He's gonna make it."
Terri put her arms around Don's shoulders and held him as his last emotional barrier broke Don and the entire day hit him full force.
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Alan's breath lodged in his throat when he saw his youngest son's prone form in the hospital bed. It took him a moment to get his bearings back, and he was barely aware of Dr. Skelling saying he'd let them have some privacy. Alan walked over to the side of Charlie's bed and picked up his son's hand careful to avoid the IV. If a person just took a brief glance at him, Charlie looked okay. It wasn't until he got close to the bed that Alan realized that Charlie was deathly pale, and he knew that beneath those blankets, Charlie's torso was most like wrapped in bandages.
"Oh, Charlie," murmured Alan, using his free hand to run his fingers through Charlie's hair. "I always though you had the safe job. I worry about your brother; I never thought I'd have to worry about you."
Alan wiped beneath his eyes as he began to cry; earlier he had to be strung for Don, but now there was no one there to be strong for. "Charlie, I know you can't hear, but you and your brother can't do these types of things to me. I can't lose either one of you; I can't. Charlie, that'll kill me."
Alan ran his hand through Charlie's hair again and sat down in a chair that was sitting close to the bed. This had been the longest night of his entire life.
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Sorry for the shortness of this chapter I hope you enjoy. Please review.