Disclaimer: Don't own Numb3rs!

A/N: Thanks to the reviewers! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and I hope that I can meet your expectations. Also Jamie's dislike for Don (vice versa) will be explained eventually. Here's the second chapter. Hope you enjoy!

When the Sun Goes Down

"Nice to see you too, Don," Jamie answered while she stared at him straight on. Don recognized those bright and angry flashes in her eyes and he knew that was all he would ever see in his little sister. Frankly, he didn't care. His affection for Jamie had dried out a year ago but it still came a surprise to him that his throat was not scratchy as it usually was when he thought of her.

Yet Jamie stood before him.

"You're not allowed to be in here," he said his voice startling cold. Jamie didn't flinch.

"Yes, I am. I mean, you did agree to an interview with 'Today's News', right?"

Don blinked. Terry and David glanced at each other.

"That was you?"

Jamie crossed her arms.

"Why else do you think I'm here?"

Don stared at her before turning away with an incredulous look on his face. He looked back at her with darkening eyes.

"Well, I thought it might be because Dad called to say Happy Birthday," he said through clenched teeth. Jamie slowly uncrossed her arms and her eyes widened.

"What? He called?" she asked softly. Don scoffed.

"Does it even matter? You'd never call back anyway…I don't have time for this."

He turned on his heels and went back inside the room. Jamie could still see him through the glass windows. Her mind reeled. My birthday? I'm…24. Dad. She blinked the tears away. Show no weakness. It was the only way to succeed in New York and it was the only way to succeed in life. She hitched her handbag onto her shoulder again. She ignored Terry and David's curious stares. Terry stepped towards her.

"Jamie, maybe-"

"Oh hell no, he said he would let someone interview him. Just because I happen to be his sister-"

Terry put a hand on her shoulder.

"Jamie, we've been under a lot of stress today. There's this case and well maybe today isn't a good time for this."

Jamie looked at her closely. She blushed.

"Oh wow, I should have considered that. I'm so sorry. I'm stopping you from doing your work."

Terry smiled at her and playfully punched her arm.

"Jamie, you don't have to apologize. I'm just glad to see you again and we will be seeing each other again soon," Terry said warningly. Then she gave a slight wave and joined Don. David cleared his throat.

"Um sorry for hassling you like that," he said. She grinned although he realized that the grin didn't reach her chocolate eyes.

"No, it's fine. Sorry for bothering you. Um…could I ask you what the case is about?" she asked curiously. David glanced through the windows.

"Um…well. I don't think so. I don't think it's a good idea for you to get into this. I mean, Charlie is already helping Don-"

Jamie put out a hand.

"Wait. Charlie, my brother? The math genius? Don actually lets him help with this kind of stuff?"

David shrugged.

"Yeah, he's been a great help. Look, I really got to go. We have to catch this guy."

Jamie nodded quickly.

"Oh yeah, right. Sorry. It was nice meeting you um…"

David let out his hand and she took it.

"David Sinclair. Bye," he gave her one quick smile and left her alone surrounded by ringing phones and copy machines. Jamie sighed and walked out of the building with her mind reeling. The meeting had not gone quite as she had planned but it wasn't anything unexpected except for that tad bit about Charlie helping Don.

"Wow, there are such things as miracles," she mumbled. The bright light from the sun beamed onto her face. She walked out onto the sidewalk while she fumbled around her handbag in search of her sunglasses. Eventually, she got them out and put them on. Immediately, the world darkened. Just the way she liked it. All secrets safely hidden where no one could stumble upon them.

Jamie jumped when her handbag vibrated against her side. She reached for her cell phone. Great. Fitzgerald. Just what I need.

"This is Eppes."

"Well? Did you talk to him?"

Jamie balanced the phone on her shoulder while she flagged for a taxi. The cab driver slowed down and pulled to a stop on the curb.

"Um. Yeah. I talked to him."

"And…how much did you get?" he asked eagerly. Jamie grunted as she got the door opened. She slid in and shut the door behind her.

"Um…well, not much," she answered. Jamie covered the phone with her hand and leaned forward.

"Sheraton Hotel, please," she whispered. The driver nodded.

"Yes, ma'm."

"Eppes. What do you mean, not much? I thought we went over this already. This story is important! Everyone wants to know what the FBI is up to right now. Especially right now. If TIME gets to it first-"

Jamie sighed.

"I know, I know, 'Today's News' is screwed."

"No. We're screwed. Very very screwed. The company is having enough problems already and this is certainly not going to keep Jackson happy," Fitzgerald growled. Jamie threw her left hand up in the air.

"I'm trying. I'm trying! Plus, I didn't ask to be on this damn story. Far as I know, you guys can all go to hell!" she yelled. The phone snapped shut. Her shoulders started to shake but stilled when she inhaled deeply. The driver looked at her from the rearview mirror.

"Hard day?" he asked kindly. She gave him a wary smile.

"You've no idea."

Charlie grinned as he watched his friend Larry explain science to a student. The student, of course, was absolutely bewildered judging by the rise of his eyebrows. Larry was obvious to the young man's confusion and continued describing in detail the intricacies of modern science. Finally, the student thanked him and hurriedly left. Charlie increased his speed to join his friend.

"So how'd it go?"

Larry sighed and crossed his arms.

"He had no idea what I was talking about, did he?" he asked. Charlie tried very hard not to smile. Hurting a friend's feelings was not on his to-do list.

"Well, maybe. Yeah I think-"

Larry glared at him and Charlie's will cracked. His lips moved into a grin.

"He had no clue but I understood every word you said," he assured the professor at CalSci. Larry rolled his eyes and they walked together out of the college building onto the green campus. Charlie decided that it was sometime in the afternoon since the number of college students was waning.

"I just don't understand. They're supposed to want to learn. I mean, what are they doing here? Or am I doing something wrong?" said Larry more to himself. Charlie stopped him.

"What? Larry no. You're fine. You have a passion for teaching. You want the students to learn everything they can. What can possibly be wrong with that?"

Larry gave him a weak grin and nodded. They strolled down the lane and Charlie welcomed the slight breeze that brushed over him. He felt strange today. Perhaps it was because of his father and Jamie or it was just that he hadn't eaten anything since the muffins in the morning. His stomach growled softly at the thought.

Ring. Ring.

Charlie held out his index finger to Larry and then reached for his phone in his pocket.

"Hello?"

Pause.

"Charlie, it's me."

Charlie raised an eyebrow? Did Don need his help again? What was wrong with his voice?

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Jamie's home."

Charlie stopped in his tracks. Jamie's home. This could mean anything and everything. Alan could be hurt again or maybe she was staying, which he highly doubted. He didn't even have to calculate the probability. It was infinity to none. Charlie hesitated before speaking.

"Are-are you sure?"

"No, Charlie…Of course, I'm sure! She showed up at my office!"

Wrinkled burrowed within his skin making one wave after another on his forehead. Jamie visiting Don was even stranger. However, Don didn't seem too happy with the visit so at least that was normal.

"What? Why?" He heard his brother sigh.

"Wanted to interview me for some article."

Ah. That made more sense. Jamie was only here for business reasons and nothing more. The thought saddened him even though he should have been used to it by now. Charlie put his fist to his forehead.

"I got to go, Charlie."

"Yeah okay, bye." He snapped the phone shut and rubbed his eyes. This day was turning out to be very interesting all right. He hoisted up his shoulder bag so that it could rest more comfortably. Larry looked at him expectantly.

"Well? What was that about?" Larry asked. His colleague just shook his head.

"Nothing."

What was he going to do when he got home? He sure didn't want to tell his father about this in case that Alan would be disappointed again. Charlie felt a jolt of anger towards his little sister. Although he loved her, he couldn't help but wonder what was going on inside her head. Did she hurt Alan on purpose? Jamie didn't bring people down for the fun of it. Every action had a reason.

He and Jamie got on pretty well together when they were younger but he knew that Don and Jamie had a bond that Charlie had once been jealous of. He thought it would never break but it had. Severely. He smiled in remembrance. Jamie loved to read books by Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Faulkner, Twain and much more while Charlie immersed himself in Calculus 3 textbooks. Both of them were geniuses but at the different sides of the spectrum. There was also the fact that Jamie was a less of a geek than Charlie was. Maybe that was what brought Don and Jamie closer together. Before they had the 'fight'.

"Charlie?"

Charlie opened his mouth but words halted when he saw Amita walk past him. Her dark curls flew elegantly around her shoulders and she had her arms were around her books and folders. Charlie frowned. Did she not notice him? They both sped up to catch up with her.

Charlie got a glimpse of her face and he grew immediately worried. Although there were no tears, he could see red, puffy eyes and her breathing was shallow. He gently grabbed her elbow.

"Hey," he said quietly. Amita sniffed and then looked up with a smile plastered on her face.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly. Amita nodded.

He never saw her like this before. Whenever he thought of Amita he thought of intelligence, beauty, exotic, and cheerfulness. Today, she was far from being cheerful.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. I-I-" she stopped to catch her breath. Charlie put his arm around her. Both didn't notice Larry quietly walking away.

"Are you sure? Amita, what's wrong?"

Amita leaned her head on his shoulder and the professor inhaled a whiff of her shampoo. Wow. She just breathed against him for a few seconds before she stepped away.

"I'm okay. I got to go. Bye, Charlie."

And to his utter shock, Amita leaned over and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. Before he could say anything Amita was already on her way. All Charlie could do was gape. His hand worked its way up to his cheek. The tingled from her lips was fading and when he swallowed, Charlie realized that he didn't want it to go away.

Not at all.

The apartment was quiet. Oddly quiet, Don thought. The building seemed ready to burst out of the weak frames and pillars that were barely holding it up. Don and Terry cautiously walked up the stairs. The humid air stuck to Don's face and he inwardly sighed. He hated humidity. He pulled out his wallet when they reached the right door. Terry rang the doorbell.

A man clad in only a towel answered the door.

"Are you here about Angie? Is she okay? Claire hasn't called me and-"

"Why don't we talk about this inside, Mr. Damon. I'm Special Agent Don Eppes. This is Agent Terry Lake."

It seemed that Ray Damon just realized that Terry was present. He blushed and let them inside.

"Um, let me get dressed."

Don nodded and Damon scurried away into his bedroom. Don scanned the room and it was obvious that the man was an aspiring artist. There were bottles of paint, paintbrushes, and pastel everywhere on the kitchen table. Sketch pads were in a huge pile on the countertop. He glanced at the carpet in the living room and discovered that it was stained with coffee. Three easels rested in the corner.

Terry walked closer to the easels and took in the beauty of green fields. The wave of blades of grass and the rolling of the darkening sky overwhelmed her sense. Her eyes moved on to the next easel and she became breathless. It was a charcoal drawing of Angelica Jacobson with every little detail. Each vein, each eyelash, each wrinkle were all drawn so carefully and what might have looked unattractive otherwise seemed endearing. There was no doubt about it. The artist was hopelessly in love with Angelica.

"That's the picture of Angie. I haven't finished it yet," said Damon from behind. Terry jumped slightly and Don gazed at her oddly. Terry brushed her fingers through her hair.

"It's very beautiful."

He gave her a sad smile.

"No. Angie was beautiful."

Don cleared his throat and came towards them.

"I'm sorry but Miss Jacobson-"

"She's gone, isn't she?" he said softly. The partners peeked at each other.

"Yes, how did you know?" Don asked suspiciously. Damon looked out the window. Tears streamed down his face and in the darkening room the tears reflected a feeble ray of sunlight. Terry's heart tightened.

"First of all, you said 'I'm sorry' and that almost always means someone died. And…if you love someone enough, you just know. It's like someone cut off half of your heart," he croaked.

"I'm sorry. Your girlfriend was…strangled to death. We need your help in order to figure out who did this to her," Don said quietly. The pain in the man's form was to hard for the agent to watch. Damon straightened up and his body turned stiff.

"I'll do everything you ask," Damon replied firmly and stared at him straight in the eye. Don nodded.

"Thank you."

Terry took out her small notebook and a black pen. She flipped to a blank page. Damon motioned them to sit on the couch while he took the armchair.

"How long have you known each other?" Don asked.

"Since we were five."

Terry lowered her notebook. Wow.

"Was she acting strange recently? Or was something out of the ordinary?"

The math hesitated and the shook his head. Both agents noted the hesitation.

When was the last time you saw her?"

"Three days ago. The day she went missing."

Don nodded.

"Do you remember what you guys were talking about?" Don asked.

The man fidgeted and clasped his hands together. He closed his eyes and when he opened them Terry saw a fresh well of tears. She knew what they were all to well. Tears of guilt. She made a jot of this mentally in her head knowing that Don would think her crazy if she wrote 'boyfriend. Tears of guilt' in the notebook. The boyfriend was leaving something out and they all knew it. Don decided to use harshness as a tool.

"Look, your girlfriend was viciously murdered. If you have something that we might need, I suggest you tell us now."

Damon sighed and buried his head in his large calloused hands. He paused before speaking.

"She told me she was pregnant and that she was going to get an abortion. That was the last day I ever saw her."

Now they had something.

"Did you support her decision?" Don asked. If he hadn't there could be a motive…Damon nodded.

"We both believed we weren't ready for a baby yet. I told her that I would go along with whatever she wanted…I wanted to go with her but I had to be at an art exhibition that day. She wouldn't let me go. I-I should have gone with her." His voice cracked and he sank to the floor heaving with sobs. Terry kneeled in front of him and rubbed her palm against his back. Don felt a twinge but he quickly cast it out.

Terry soothed him without saying a word. She looked up at him.

"I'm sorry but I need to know one more thing. Do you know where she went to get the abortion?"

Damon raised his head slowly.

"Hamilton Clinic."

Minutes later the agents were back outside beside the car. Don took one last look at the building and he thought of Ray Damon. The man was in pain, a pain he had almost forgotten. Needed to be forgotten. How had he acted after his mother died? His throat clogged.

"I say we look into him," Don said suddenly. Terry turned.

"What?" she said sharply.

"You heard me."

"Don, did you see him? He loved her. Why would he-"

"Or it could all be just an act."

Terry crossed her arms.

"Well, he's a damn good actor."

Don blinked. What was wrong with her? The Terry he saw was usually emotionless and logical. All FBI agents were trained to keep their emotions in check and his partner excelled at that. What was it about this case that made her this way?

"Terry, what is wrong with you?" he asked.

Terry opened the door but stopped before she got in.

"It's nothing. Let's go."

They drove back to the office in silence.

8:07 PM

Felix Gonzales took a sip of his coffee. He flipped through the channels and then glanced at the clock. His wife would be coming soon. Then his stomach dropped with a sickening thud. It had been a month already. A month since that dark and rainy night. If he hadn't put his music on so loud…If only it hadn't been raining…If the boy had been careful…If he had been more careful…

There were so many ifs…

If he hadn't run away…where would he be now?

Behind bars for sure.

Gonzales yawned and his eyes slowly rolled back. Why was he so tired? Coffee was supposed to keep him…

His body slumped onto the couch and the remote control fell to the carpeted floor. A man came out from a closet quietly and if Gonzales had been alive he would see the glistening silver blade of a knife.

David stumbled into his apartment. It was getting harder and harder to stay on his feet. He trudged to his bedroom his feet shuffling across the floor. Without bothering to take off his suit he collapsed on his bed. So soft and inviting. He moaned quietly as he clutched the blanket. He stayed in that position for half an hour before he decided that sleep wasn't going to come to him easily. As always.

So he got up and went into the kitchen. He thought about the Asian woman while brewing the coffee. She had left an imprint on him somehow. Maybe it was because he bumped into her. Maybe it was because she was Don's sister. Why hadn't Don ever mention Jamie? Then he remembered the conversation between them and realized that Don might have had a reason for it.

David poured the coffee into his cup and walked out onto the balcony. He grasped the railing as he looked out into the LA skyline. The lights brightened up the black sky and the smoke from the cars was almost visible. He night air was fresh and clean despite the pollution and he could smell the green grass, which was strange considering there weren't any nearby.

"Leave. Get the hell out of here. I don't need you."

David closed his eyes and tried to block out the wailing screams from his memories. Finally he couldn't take it anymore and he slammed his fist on the railing.

Alan Eppes walked around the countertop with pan of pasta in his hands. Don and Charlie eagerly waited to take a bite but even so Alan knew that the boys were off in their own little worlds. He sighed. He wished his sons didn't have to live with so many secrets and see things that would horrify other humans. However, Don and Charlie knew that it was their duty to use their abilities in order to keep people safe. He set the pan on the table and waited until his sons dished the pasta onto their own plates.

"Okay. What's going on?" he asked. Immediately, the two brothers looked at each other. Seconds turned into minutes and they were still silent. Judging by their body language, Alan could tell that Charlie was ready to spill while Don was silently warning him against it. So he turned to Charlie.

"Charlie?"

"Um well," he stammered. Alan threw his hands up in the air. What was a father to do?

"Will you just tell-"

Buzz.

Alan frowned. Was that the doorbell? Who would be visiting them during dinner? Don stood up to get it but Alan motioned for him to sit down. He went to the front door and opened. His jaw dropped when he saw who was standing there in front of him.

"Jamie?"

Jamie raised her head in order to be at eye-level. She gave him a small smile.

"Hey, Dad."

A/N: So what do you think? Please review! Constructive criticism, please. Thanks for reading!