A/N: Dopey me, forgot the disclaimer, so here it is.

Disclaimer: I don't own Numbers... And you can't prove I own it coppers! Okay that made no sense. But I still don't own Numbers, or anyone affiliated with it.

Ch. 2

Kindred?

The pounding of the rain was a continuous, irreverent thudding above Charlie's head. It was the only other sound beyond his hollow, unsteady breathing and the more muffled thump of his rapidly pounding heart. Occasional flashes of lightening filled the rectangular windows many unreachable feet up the wall, filling the chamber with brief snatches of light and sight. It looked to be some sort of storage room, like a warehouse, but smaller. Pipes snaked all over the ceiling in perpendicular paths, bending at right angles without ever touching to vanish into the walls. The box Charlie huddled shivering against was one of many in various sizes all gathered on the side of the chamber Charlie was at. They were all showing – and smelling of – signs of rot. This place, whatever it was, probably hadn't been used for years, which was nothing uncommon for a big city. Buildings, especially on the outskirts, were abandoned all the time to eventually be demolished or rebuilt.

Thunder rumbled from far away. Charlie could not say how long the man had been gone. It felt like forever, but forever was not a true measurement of time. It was just an expression, a kind of hallucination born from fear, and so was not an answer. Charlie wanted a concrete answer, but could not read his watch even when the lightning flashed.

Was the man getting help? He must be getting help. Why else leave in a storm like this. He was probably trying to call for help on Charlie's phone, but needed to be where the signal came in clearer. It was the only logical explanation, and the more Charlie thought on it, clinging to it tenaciously like a drowning man to a life raft, the more logical it became until he absolutely believed it.

His pounding heart decreased into a steadier rhythm. Content in the idea of someone going to get help, Charlie focused his thoughts on the pain in his back. No amount of posture adjustments would ease it, but knew that when his dad had a bad back he usually went to lay down.

Charlie unwound himself from huddling with movements made slow by cold-stiff muscles. He pushed scattered papers out of his way, then carefully stretched out on the cold, gritty floor, gingerly rolling onto his back. The same instant his back touched the floor, he immediately rolled onto his chest with a hissing intake of breath and a wince of pain. After the throb abated, he found the position to be alleviating to a small degree. It scared him the thought of what might have happened to his back, of the unknown damage that could have occurred. Yes, he was walking and moving now, but he had heard stories from Don about people with injuries that start out as benign but manifest as severe just because they moved wrong or did not catch what was the greater threat soon enough.

Charlie's soaked clothes, which were freezing the rest of him, eventually served a purpose as they helped to numb the pain in his back some.

Then Charlie heard a thump, and the torturous grind of metal. Lights flared on and Charlie blinked rapidly against the brightness. Then he heard cheery whistling coupled with the thud of boot falls. The man stopped directly in front of Charlie. Charlie rolled his eyes nervously up toward the mans face. He was staring down at the young professor in deep perplexity like a child that had stumbled on something it had never seen before.

" What are you doing?" The man asked.

Charlie cleared his throat, and could feel his heart return to its rapidity. " Um... M-My back hurts. I was – I was just..."

" Get up," the man said, sounding slightly frustrated.

Charlie rolled onto his side and slowly pushed himself back up to sit against the box. He grimaced with the agony of it, planting his hands flat on either side to brace himself against it. The man moved to crouch before him, looking him up and down with mild interest as though eying a piece of merchandise.

" What's your name, kid?" he asked, still scrutinizing.

The more the man studied him, the more Charlie wished he could shrink out of existence. " Charlie." Charlie winced slightly. Had that been a wise thing to do? Charlie didn't know this man, or what kind of person he was. Don used to always say – never give your name away to just anyone."

" Charlie What?"

Charlie opened his mouth, only to clamp it shut. The man's gaze shot up suddenly, locking onto Charlie's eyes. And within that gaze, Charlie thought he saw a flash of anger like the flicker of a fire. The man then snapped his fingers continuously in front of Charlie's face.

" Hey, Chuck. Chu-uck. You in there, you awake? Snap out of it chuck, I'm askin' you a question. What, don't like questions? Wake up kid..."

" Eppes!" Charlie blurted just to get the man to stop. The man smirked, dropping his hand.

" Eppes? Chuck Eppes. good. That wasn't so hard was it? Here, to be fair I'll give you my name. Leon. That good? Cause that's all you're gonna get." Leon then began looking around at Charlie's scattered papers, books, notebooks, and laptop. " It's not a good thing to know the rest of my name." He then picked up several of the papers to gather them in a neat stack. " You into math Chuck?" He began flipping through the papers gradually, pausing on several and giving them a perusal of fascination. He then grinned, nodding as though in approval.

" Heavy stuff, Chuck. You do these yourself?"

Charlie nodded, so uncertain that he did not know whether to be afraid or intrigued by the man's interest.

" I can tell." He held up one of the papers, the one with Don's needed equation scrawled all over it, worked and reworked. " Nice, pretty conclusion you got here, Chuck. What'd you use it for?"

" You understand it?" Charlie asked hopefully. Only Larry and Amita ever understood the equations; the symbols and numbers that brought him to the needed answers. Only they could see how it all worked out, and where those answers came from. But even for them it took time for it to all register.

Leon's smile faded, and he lowered his arm holding the paper. " Yeah, I understand it. What, you think I'm an idiot? I'm a freakin' prodigy, man. This stuff is like two plus two to my brain, Chuck."

Charlie cringed at both the man's harsh tone and his constant use of the nickname Chuck. Charlie hated being called Chuck.

" Now what's it for!"

Charlie swallowed against the cold lump forming in his throat, and tried to hold himself back from shrinking away.

" I-it's to determine locations, based on a set of variables used to find patterns. I-it's being used to find something... But it's not ready," he added to change the subject before Leon asked anymore questions.

Leon flipped the paper around to stare at the equation. " Not ready?"

" Yeah. It's not perfect. It needs to be coupled with a pattern based on times..."

" You find this something Chuck?"

" Please don't call me Chuck. I..."

Leon stood abruptly, towering over Charlie with eyes blazing in fury. " Can it! I'll call you whatever the crap I want! Did you find the place or not, Chuck?"

Charlie nodded numbly. What was going on?

" Then what the hell is your problem!" Leon crouched to grab a book, then stood, hurling it hard at Charlie. Charlie turned, covering his head with his arms so that the book glanced off his ribs. But before Charlie even had time to register the pain of it, Leon grabbed him by the shoulder of his sweater, forcing him to look back around and pinning him against the crate. Leon held the paper right in Charlie's face.

" Look at it. The child of your brain and it's not good enough? It finds a pattern, it finds a place, and you say it's not perfect? Even though it did as you asked?"

Charlie sucked in a fearful breath. " Th-the timing was – was off..."

" Screw the timing you little worm! You wanted it to find a place, it found a place. You've got your coordinates. Why isn't it good enough! Why is nothing good enough! You've got brains, and that isn't good enough. You a prodigy Chuck, like me? huh? You a kindred? Me and you, we get this stuff. But you gotta respect it, Chuck. You gotta give it the time of day, let it do it's job. 'Cause if you don't, then you don't deserve what you got..."

The man was rambling, talking faster and faster about brains, respect, and learning when to stop and when to keep going. None of it made any sense to Charlie as the words tumbled over eachother into near-incoherent babble; and the more Leon ranted the more Charlie's brain became addled by increasing terror. The man's eyes burned with both anger and passion, interchanging from one to the other without rhythm or even reason, as though fighting for dominance. And all Charlie could think clearly through his terror haze was: I'm going to die.

" It's fine, get over it!" Leon practically screamed. He then jerked his hand free from gripping Charlie. Leon stood, crumpling the paper in his fist. He threw it at Charlie, then delivered a vicious kick to Charlie's chest.

" Little ingrate," Leon snarled as Charlie curled into himself, hugging his chest where pain radiated out from his breastbone to his shoulders and collar bones. Charlie's lungs refused to recapture lost breath until the pain subsided into a throb, then he sucked it in raggedly.

Leon shook his head in disgust, then stomped off, cursing under his breath.

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What did I do wrong?

Charlie sat with his back flat against the crate, hands spread on the concrete floor, and knees drawn up. Each breath was a carefully calculated intake and exhale that kept the sound of it practically non-existent, and the rise and fall of his chest as methodical as a cautious footstep. It was as though Leon were a tiger, and one unchecked move would have him all over Charlie before he could blink.

Why is he so mad? If he knows, then he should see. Why doesn't he see?

But then again Leon did not know the full situation. The equation was not just about finding a place, but also about catching the bad guys. Perhaps if Charlie could explain it in such terms... But it was a classified case. Charlie could explain nothing.

Where was help? Why am I still here? What's going on?

Charlie wanted desperately to ask. But more than that he wanted to leave. He felt sick with apprehension and his body ached fiercely from muscles pulled taut enough to snap. Then there was his back, one more pain on the ever growing mountain.

Charlie heard the crunch of footsteps, but was already tense as any human could get, shivering both with cold and terror. His heart felt as though it were trying to crawl into his throat, and even his lungs seemed to be trembling as each breath quavered.

Leon appeared suddenly from around to crate to crouch like a high-strung cat before Charlie. " Hey Chuck."

Charlie flinched in alarm and his heart lurched in one painful beat as though trying to pummel itself. Leon placed his hand on Charlie's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

" Listen, man. Sorry about the little outburst. Didn't mean a thing, honest. I mean, it's nothing against you. It's just... It really boils me when people aren't satisfied, you know?" Leon grabbed the wad of paper, then gently began unfolding it as though handling something extremely delicate. Once unraveled, he set it on the floor and slowly passed his hands over it, smoothing it out as best he could. " You do good work kid," he said as he looked the numbers and symbols over. " Love math. I may not seem the type, but there's just something about it." Leon smiled wistfully. " It makes everything so freakin' predictable, you know? Of course you know. You're like me. We're kindreds, me an' you. We get this crap, and we know how to use it."

Leon's head suddenly snapped up, pulling Charlie into his unfathomable gaze and holding him there. He held up the paper and tilted his head to one side, sucking in a sharp breath.

" Why can't you be happy with it, huh, Chuck?"

Charlie saw it again, the flicker of anger within the blankness. Charlie's chest tightened and moisture blurred his vision.

" What's the matter Chuck?" Leon asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Then he rose to his feet, tapping Charlie's foot with his own booted one. A hot tear rolled lazily down Charlie's face, continuing over his jaw and down his neck.

" Why're you cryin' kid? Come on, man, lighten up."

Another tear fell. Charlie wanted it to stop but it wouldn't, not with the terror that kept building and building, pressing in on Charlie like a smothering blanket until he couldn't even swallow.

" Come on, stop crying. Stop it. You don't need to get upset. Come on..." Leon stepped closer. " I said stop it! Stop it! Stop crying now you pathetic little wuss!"

Charlie shrank, covering his head in expectation of having something thrown at him. " I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me, I'm trying..." But now Charlie was now sobbing uncontrollably.

Suddenly, Charlie was grabbed by his shirt front and thrown onto the floor chest first. Once Charlie was sprawled, Leon stepped around him, then delivered a nasty, swift, vicious kick to his ribs. The pain of it was far worse than when the book had struck him, worse than the pain in his back. Charlie curled into himself, hugging his side and trying to force the snatched air back into his lungs.

" There, much better." Leon said, pacing back and forth beside Charlie like an agitated cougar. " I hate crying," he said in pure disgust. " Crap, man, grow a freakin' spine! You know you haven't even once tried to take me down? What's you're problem, huh? Not even gonna try to fight?"

Charlie moved his head to look up at his captor. Leon stared down at Charlie, every line of his hardened face oozing loathing and malice. A lump of ice settled in the pit of Charlie's stomach. With one arm still hugging his side, he used the other to carefully push himself back away from the man towering like a stalking beast over him.

" W-Why am I here?" Charlie asked without thinking, speaking his confusion out loud. " Where am I?"

Leon's expression went unreadable, then a smile slowly crept onto his face. He crouched, Taking Charlie by the collar on either side of his neck. He then lifted Charlie back into sitting against the wall, and slapped him on the shoulder.

" You're kind of like a mouse, you know that, brother? A small, timid, weak little mouse of a man. I know it sounds harsh but... come on. It's about freakin' time you asked me these questions. A braver man would have asked them the moment he started getting hauled into a weird place."

Charlie blinked in confusion. " I thought you were trying to help. I thought you were calling for help."

" No, I just stepped out to clean up a few things. Listen, Chuck, I'll level with you. I didn't drag your scrawny butt all the way in here out of the kindness of my heart. Now, I like you, despite the fact you're such a coward. We're both on the same level here, both great thinkers. But I've got a little problem, and your just the right guy to help me with it. You're small, you're easily intimidated, you're young. Everything I need if worse comes to worse. Because if it does come down to it, and things for me go bad, you're going to be my ticket out. I need you as my shield, Chuck. My space in between."

Charlie knew he shouldn't ask, but found he couldn't help it. " Between... What?"

Leon smirked an incredulous smile, throwing up his hands as though Charlie should have already known the answer. " Me an' the cops."

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A/N: Okay, sorry for the shortness of this one. I was going to keep going with it, but found the above statement to be an excellent chapter end. I need to plan the next chapter out carefully. Strange things are about to occur. Very strange indeed. And what of Don? Is he looking for Charlie? Is the team all over this? Those questions will be answered in time. All I can say is... you'll see. (Though not necessarily in the next chapter.)