I want to give a shout out to luvnum3ers, whose question in her last review alerted me to the fact that I'd left a giant hole in the last chapter. I'd thought of it, but never written it in. So thank you. And thanks continue to Charmed Mummy for her beta work. The Numb3rs episode "Hot Shot" was written by Barry Schnidel and "Hallelujah" was written by Leonard Cohen. The version quoted here was recorded by Rufus Wainwright. The second section takes place shortly after "Blackout."
Chapter 32
Four days later
Charlie woke with a start. His hand flew to his cheek, hoping to hold on to his mother's touch. A dream? Of course it was a dream. But it seemed so real. She was right here … He closed his eyes again and breathed deeply, imagining (or maybe not) the faint scent of Windsong perfume under the chalk dust.
As he went into the house, he heard a faint rustling in the dining room, and he peeked through the swinging door to see his brother making notes on a tablet. It made Charlie smile to himself; Don claimed he couldn't wait to get back to his apartment, yet less than 24 hours later, there he was, sitting at the dining room table, surrounded by papers.
Don looked up as Charlie placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. I didn't know you were here."
"I guess I must have dozed off back there."
"You got the good life, huh?" Don grinned.
For a moment, Charlie couldn't speak. He tried to smile back, mostly to reassure both himself and his brother that everything was fine and back to normal.
When Daniel had called the week before, Charlie had been awake, pouring over equations in the garage. As soon as he heard the news, the numbers pulled at him with such intensity that it took him twenty minutes to go inside, wake Alan, and leave the promised message for Robin Brooks. The integers were screaming when he and Alan had arrived at UCLA. Don, by that time, was half-awake and semi-coherent but the incident had badly shaken Charlie. If he hadn't made that deal with Lydia …
He squeezed Don's shoulder, a hug. "You're going to be okay, right?"
"Yeah, I think so."
Charlie looked like he was going to cry.
"What?" Don asked, worried.
"I … I just … I don't want you to think you're alone," Charlie said hoarsely. He sat down next to his brother. "It seems like you've always been left to take care of yourself. And in some ways, to take care of Lydia too. Maybe that's why you are the way you are."
"How's that?" Don asked, a little apprehensively.
"You know. Never allowed to be afraid."
He sighed. "Charlie, didn't you listen to what I told you after that thing in the office? I get afraid all the time. It's just not obvious because I've got a lot of people counting on me."
Lydia came in through the back door. When she had seen Don's SUV in the driveway, she'd gone to the garage first, and, finding it empty, wandered into the house.
She heard voices and started to push open the door when Charlie's soft, serious voice stopped her.
"I just want you to know this is your home, here with me and Dad. You and Lyddie, you belong here, with us, even if you don't live here. You always will."
Lydia's breath caughtFor so long, she'd been so sure that the damage she'd done to her family was irreparable. But she'd been wrong. Alan had forgiven her instantly. She and Don were close again, and she and Charlie were coming to a new understanding.
It wasn't like the past had never happened -- it was better than that. They knew each other, all the flaws and the mistakes and the regrets, and they loved each other anyway. An unconscious prayer ran through Lydia's head. Thank you, God. Thank you that I'm not drinking anymore. Thank you for my family.
Don and Charlie were interrupted by Alan's coming down the hall. "What are you boys up to?" he asked, then looked toward the door, catching Lydia's eye. "Why are you lurking over there?"
Don and Charlie both turned to look at her as she came fully into the room and shrugged. "The boys were having a moment. I didn't want to interrupt."
"A moment, huh?" Don chuckled at Charlie. "That what this is? You worried we don't come around enough?"
This time, Charlie was able to fully grin back. If it had been a moment, it was lost, but it didn't matter. They'd become adept at filling in the blanks.
"What brings you here?" Don asked Lydia.
"I came to check up on you," she answered. She pointed to the bottle of beer sitting in front of him. "That's probably a bad idea after all that morphine you had floating around inside you."
Part of Don thought he should tell his sister not to fuss at him. Most of him, however, was consoled by her presence. Reliving the overdose and the shooting was making him more uncomfortable than he wanted to admit.
Alan came over to the table. "What have you got there?"
"It's just my statement for the shooting."
"You got a problem about it?"
"I did shoot a man," Don said quietly. He glanced at Lydia, who smiled reassuringly at him. Both of them were thinking of the night in San Francisco when she played him to sleep, chasing away the nightmares. He suddenly remembered what she said to him: You don't have to be so brave all the time, you know.
Don wondered, not for the first time, if she might be right, just as his father said, "Yeah, because you didn't have a choice."
"You always have a choice," Don corrected him.
"Well, then the trick is to learn how to live with the ones you make."
Don looked back down at his papers. "That would be the trick," he agreed softly.
Lydia hugged him from behind. "Your choice has been to save lives," she said. "To prevent crime, to make the world safer – living with that choice doesn't seem like a hard trick."
She rubbed his shoulders as Alan scooted Charlie from his chair. "Want me to take a look? Your old man still has a few good ideas left."
"Yeah, all right."
"You know, I can calculate bullet trajectories based on the layout of the house," Charlie offered.
Don tipped his head back to look at Lydia, a small smile on his face. "What about you?"
She snorted. "Nothing about this, though I can spell-check for Charlie. And I can make dinner, since I'm sure you guys have only planned for take out and I don't have to be anywhere until my meeting at 7:30."
"Or you could play for us," Charlie suggested. He made the request almost every time he saw his sister, trying to make up for the years when there had been no music.
"You have seen through my ulterior motive," Lydia said solemnly. "I was hoping to borrow the piano."
The men passed papers back and forth as the music filled the room. "Lyddie, that's pretty, what is it?" Don asked.
"Nothing, really, just something I've been fooling around with," she answered. "I found a couple of bars in one of Mom's old notebooks. Daniel and I have been trying to turn it into a song."
"I like that boy," Alan said. "He seems like a good fit for you. Maybe the two of you should --"
"Dad!" Charlie and Don protested almost in unison.
"No, it's all right," Lydia said. She looked over her shoulder at her father. "I love Daniel. And he loves me. We'll see what happens. That's all there is to tell right now."
Alan nodded. "Well, then." He glowered at his sons. "See? That's all the answer I was looking for. So perhaps when I ask about Robin or Amita --"
"Okay, hey, I've been meaning to tell you guys," Don interrupted hastily, avoiding Alan's gaze. "Speaking of Mom? I dreamed about her."
Don's eyes were scanning the pad of paper in front of him and he missed the looks of shock on his family's faces.
"You … when?" Charlie managed.
"In the hospital." Don poked his brother. "Must have been that dream you told me about. Except she didn't make me pancakes."
He'd expected them to chuckle, but they were all staring at him with something like horror. "What? What's wrong?"
"In the hospital?" Lydia echoed faintly. "You didn't see a bright light or anything, did you?"
"Wha … no, no, nothing like that." Don felt his face flush. "Actually, we talked about morphine. And why …" His voice trailed off and then he cleared his throat and looked over at his sister. "And why the drinking was so appealing to you."
Lydia looked at Charlie. "You dreamed about her? Because I did too, the night Donny got hurt. She said I needed to let Don lean on me."
"She told me I had a question for her," Charlie said. He didn't want to elaborate; it seemed private, between him and Margaret.
"Do you think she came back?" Lydia asked in a shocked whisper. "I mean, the three of us dreamed of her in what? Like a week or something?" She waited for someone to contradict her but no one did.
"It was nice to see her," Charlie murmured.
Yes, Alan thought, it certainly was.
Lydia, flustered, turned back to the piano keys and started playing the first thing that fell from her fingers, which turned out to be "Hallelujah." A moment or two later, Don abandoned his paperwork entirely to listen.
…Maybe I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah …
… Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
"Geez, Lydia, do you even listen to the words you sing?" Don asked.
"Of course I do." She played the chorus through again. "This song has always reminded me of you."
"Of me?" Don wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted.
"Since we were kids."
"What do you mean, since you were kids?" Charlie asked. "Isn't that from 'Shrek'?"
"It's a Leonard Cohen song," Lydia said with some disgust. "He's been around since the '60s."
"That's my girl," Alan smiled.
May 2007
Don's SUV meandered down a quiet street in Arcadia.Lydia was scanning the house numbers. "There," she pointed, and Don pulled into the driveway.
The siblings had been talking about finding a two-family house, thinking they might buy one and each live in one apartment. At first, it was just idle talk, but somehow, now, it seemed they were actually looking.
This duplex had identical sides – each had three bedrooms and two bathrooms on two levels and the property had a good-sized yard. The neighborhood was quiet. It was a little expensive but it was by far the most promising.
"I like it," Lydia said as they got back into the car. "Maybe we should have Charlie run some algorithm on crime in the neighborhood and resale value."
Don laughed. "He'd have us living in the back of his house, by the koi."
"I suppose so."
"It's more than we talked about spending," Lydia said.
"I already told you, I'll swing the down payment," Don said patiently. "It'll be nice to use some of that money I've saved."
"Yeah, all those years of mooching meals off Dad and Charlie," Lydia smiled.
"You know, if we want to make an offer on this, there are some things we should figure out," Don said. "Rules and all that."
"You don't get to be in charge because you're the oldest," Lydia said.
"Sure I do." Don negated his point by sticking his tongue out at her.
Lydia snorted. "But yeah, you're right, we should talk about guidelines, I guess."
"No bad boyfriends," Don teased.
"Excuse me? I have a very good boyfriend." Lydia buckled her seat belt and shifted so she was facing her brother. "But he may end up living there at some point. Are you okay with that?"
"Yeah, sure." Don pulled out of the driveway, lifting his hand at the realtor. "Your turn."
"No cheap women."
A cloud crossed Don's face. "Yeah, you probably don't have to worry about women, period."
"No way, big brother, you're a catch," Lydia ribbed him. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm starting to think I don't have a long-term relationship in me," Don said. He was almost whispering, half-hoping she wouldn't hear him.
"Come on," Lydia protested. "I know it didn't work out with Robin, but you were serious with Kim. And there's no one now? Not even a beginning, maybe?"
Don thought of Robin. He'd been sincerely willing to try with her, but as he'd told Alan and Charlie, it takes two, and she didn't want to be one of them. Maybe it could have been serious, but he hadn't had the chance to find out. Now, he and Liz Warner were together and … having sex. That was about the extent of it.
"There's a girl to sleep with," Don said finally. "I don't know if it's much else."
"That's because you started backward," Lydia said. "Sex – that can be just sex. You know how many guys I slept with?"
"No and I don't wan --"
"Daniel and I dated almost a year before we made love." Lydia went on as if Don hadn't spoken. "Making love is totally different."
Don's face was scarlet. Lydia burst out laughing. "God, Donny, you can chase down murderers and pedophiles and have bullets flying at you, and it's no big thing, but your little sister says the word 'sex' and you go all to pieces."
"I'm not all to pieces –"
"And it's your turn. No bad boyfriends, no cheap women …"
He cleared his throat, grateful to change the subject. "No Barry Manilow through the walls. I don't care how well he plays the piano."
"Ha. Fine. No baseball memorabilia in any common hallways."
"I'll mow the lawn and take care of the yard if you cook for me sometimes," Don proposed.
"That's a deal."
"So are we making an offer?"
"Wow. Yeah, I think so." Lydia took a deep breath. "This is probably the most adult thing I've ever done. That's kind of a big deal."
"It's a good investment," Don said.
"It's more than that."
"Yeah," he answered companionably, "it is."
"Hey." Lydia pulled a CD out of her bag. "Do you want to hear the latest track?"
"You know I do."
For her birthday in April, Charlie and Don had found a recording studio and pitched in for a package. The gift certificate they'd given Lydia entitled her to a seven-song CD, with 100 copies.
Don smiled as his sister's voice, singing "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters," came through the speakers. "Are they all covers?"
"No. Three covers, three originals."
"That's only six."
"I think I'm saving the last track for 'Amazing Grace.' A cappella, for Mom. And I told Daniel I'd be the feature at his coffeehouse sometime at the end of this month. I'm hoping we'll be done by then – we're calling it a CD release party."
"You let me know when and I'll be there," Don promised.
Lydia settled back against the seat, tapping time on the arm rest. "I know you will," she said, hoping her tone would convey the depth of her gratitude. In moments like these, she couldn't understand how she'd been so stupid to stay away from her family for so long.
A/N: I always felt badly that Don was the only one who didn't dream of his mother, so I took my fan fiction poetic license and changed that. Also, I should warn you that I don't like Liz, so her role in the next chapter will be a slight departure from canon.
We're almost done – the next chapter is the last. Thanks for reading!