Disclaimer: I don't own Numb3rs and am not trying to claim ownership in any way. I like to entertain myself by making my favorite characters do whatever I please in my own little world.
(A/N: I meant to have this up yesterday but wouldn't work. Evil computer...)
It was almost ten o'clock in the evening when Alan Eppes decided to head off to bed. He'd been waiting up for his youngest son to arrive home. Charlie was tricky to understand. He said he'd be home right after school, but he still wasn't home and probably forgot what he said anyway. He was the perfect definition for the absent-minded professor.
Alan quietly clicked off the television set and stood up in his gray T-shirt and sweatpants. He wandered into the kitchen and put his half-empty glass of water in the sink. He'd do the dishes tomorrow morning.
So many things were on his mind.
His sons had gotten into another one of their meaningless fights a few days ago and hadn't spoken to each other since. Don didn't come home to dinner and Charlie was angry constantly. You seriously couldn't get more than three sentences out of your mouth before he stormed off.
His son's fights always made Alan a little bit nervous. Charlie took everything Don uttered to heart and he would do anything his big brother said, but Don never seemed to realize that.
He was one of the only people who was actually able to actually hurt Charlie.
Don got frustrated with Charlie recurrently and often was the one who started the feuds; he didn't know how to deal with Charlie. Alan didn't either but at least he didn't go around picking fights with him.
He sighed quietly and started to climb the stairs to his bedroom when he heard the doorbell ring. He sighed quietly and ran his fingers through his graying hair as he wandered back down the steps to answer the door.
"How many sets of keys do I have to make Charlie before he stops losing them?" he muttered quietly to himself.
He opened the door preparing to see his youngest son's apologetic face, but the man that stood on the porch was definitely not his Charlie. A man wearing a police uniform was standing nervously in the porch light fiddling with his hands.
He appeared to be a little older than Charlie and had dark tanned skin with hazel eyes. His hair was short and close to his scalp. He was looking at his shoes but looked up immediately when the door opened.
Alan was a little startled. What was a police officer doing on his doorstep?
"Hello?"
"Are you Alan Eppes?" the man asked. His voice seemed a little timid, as if he had to say something he didn't want to.
"Yes," Alan responded a little confused.
"Mr. Eppes, I'm Officer Mark Breckenridge of the LA police department." He paused for a second. "Can I come in?"
"Oh, sure," Alan said escorting Mark into his house. He motioned to the couch. "Please sit down. Would you like something to drink?"
"No I'm fine, thank you."
Alan sat down in his recliner and peered at the man in his living room.
"Mr. Eppes," Mark started his eyes darkening slightly. "I'm sorry to inform you that your son, Charles Eppes, was involved in a motor vehicle accident at 9:45 evening,"
Alan felt his entire body tense. Had he heard right?
"That can't be right," Alan said shaking his head. "My son doesn't have his license. He rode his bike today and was coming home on it."
"I'm sorry sir, but he was hit by a car while on his bike."
Alan stared in disbelief for a few moments then rubbed his face with his hands and held them there.
"Is he alright?" Alan asked looking up with damp eyes.
"I'm not sure," Officer Breckenridge said quietly. "The last I saw of him was when the medics managed to get him stable and loaded him into an ambulance."
"Oh god…" he muttered as what he was being told set in. "Oh god…" he lowered his head and sat staring.
"Sir?" the man tried getting his attention once again.
"Charlie was always careful on his bike…always," Alan said keeping his face hidden. "How could this have happened?"
Mark seemed to hesitate when Alan looked him in the eye.
"The person responsible was suspected to be driving under the influence of alcohol…"
"So you're telling me that my son," Alan's voice broke and his eyes blazed, but when he continued his voice was full of renewed vigor. "was hit because of a man's stupidity! Because of a man's drunkenness! Do you know who did this?"
This time Mark couldn't even hold his gaze.
"No sir…it was a hit and run accident…"
Alan closed his eyes tightly and tried to hide his silent tears.
"What hospital is he at? I have to see him…"
"Would you like me to drive you?" the officer asked with compassion in his voice. His eyes were sad yet kind.
"I can drive myself," Alan said forcefully, standing and wobbling as his knees felt like giving way.
First his wife…now maybe his son?
"I'd really like to bring you there. You don't seem up to driving yourself. Please it's the least I can do."
"Alright," Alan agreed not feeling like arguing.
He needed to see his son. He needed to know if he was going to be okay.
Mark got up and helped Alan out the door and to the passenger seat of his car. Alan took out his cell phone and dialed Don.
Don had to know even though Alan didn't feel like telling his son that Charlie could be dead.
Don would hate himself forever if Charlie died before he could tell him how much he loved him…
Agent Don Eppes was still at his office. He didn't know why he hadn't left yet. He finished his latest case and should be home. Terry and David left hours ago but he was still sitting there in his office, leaning back in his chair, and staring at the blank wall in front of him.
Something didn't feel right to him. Something felt wrong but he didn't know what. It couldn't be anything on the case because he went over it several times and found that had caught the right guy.
He just had a bad feeling.
He always had these bad feelings when he fought with Charlie. He always felt guilty afterwards because he always said things he knew Charlie didn't deserve to hear.
Alan usually was the one to make them resolve their arguments because they were both too stubborn to admit when they were wrong.
Don sighed, stood up and grabbed his coat. He was being silly. If he felt so bad about yelling at Charlie why didn't he go apologize sooner?
He had to tell his little brother how sorry he was.
Once he got into his car he dialed his home phone number only to get the answering machine.
That was weird. Why wasn't anyone home?
He decided to dismiss the thought and kept on driving toward his brother's home. He had to go the long way because part of the street was blocked off because an accident happened early in the evening. Don could hear the sirens from outside his office building because the hazard occurred so close to it.
Don kept the radio off. He needed the silence. There were so many things on his mind.
What was he going to say to Charlie when he saw him? Would Charlie once again tell him it wasn't his entire fault? Would Charlie understand? Would they end up fighting again like they always did?
His cell phone started ringing and if he hadn't put it on the dashboard he wouldn't have heard it. He flipped it open with his usual greeting.
"Eppes."
"Donnie, it's dad," he father said from the other line.
"Hey Dad, I just tried the house but no one was there. Where are you? Where's Charlie? I have to talk to him."
"I'm on my way to the hospital." That's when Don noticed that his father's voice seemed troubled and wavered slightly. Don's body tensed up.
"What? Are you alright?" Don exclaimed, now worried.
"I'm fine Don but…" he heard his father's voice crack slightly and his heart started pounding in his chest.
What was going on? Who was in the hospital?
"Dad, where's Charlie?" Don asked quietly fearing his answer.
"He's at the hospital," his father's voice said heavily. "He was in a car accident."
Don could barely swerve out of the way of the nearing van he had unconsciously drove in front of. The driver of the vehicle beeped loudly but Don didn't hear it.
How could Charlie be in a car accident? He didn't have his license.
"He was hit while on his bike," his father continued.
"Is he alright?" Don managed to ask after several minutes of him trying to form the words.
"I don't know. Don…"
He felt sick, but tried to keep his voice steady. He had to be brave...for his father...
"I'll be there as soon as I can," Don said as his father wavered. "Which hospital is it?"
Once his father told him, he drove out in the middle of oncoming traffic and changed directions then sped of to see his brother. He completely ignored the people's horns and swears through their open car windows.
He had to see Charlie.
The way his father put it….it didn't sound so good for his little genius of a brother.
"I'm on my way," he said hanging up the phone.
He had to see his brother.
He had to know how bad he was hurt.
He had to tell him how sorry he was.
He had to show him that he cared.
He had to let him know he loved him.
He had to…
A/N: Yes I decided to make this a serial (mostly because of all the reviews I got!). I felt like I couldn't leave it by itself. I decided to explore to see where it would lead so I will go on until I am satisfied with it.
Thank you so much reviewers! I actually think that this fic got the most reviews on the first chapter of anything I've ever written. THANK YOU SO MUCH! You guys make me smile : -)
Please review for more. I really take into account what my reviewers say (as you can see from the first chapter). Thankies!
TheDudeLordOfFantasy a.k.a. Kathleen