fic: misStep (searching for a better title)

part five of the Step Series

which is the sequel to the Barrier Series

by ELISE

rated PG

summary: Charlie goes to the doctor.

I dont own numb3rs.

V.

Larry untucked his hawaiian shirt as he entered Charlie's office. Clutched to his chest with his free hand, were folders of papers. "Charles? Charles, I need some help!"

Larry walked to Charlie's desk, plopping the papers. He began to open them, talking outloud, "I've got quite the inquiry."

After recieving no response, Larry looked up to an empty office. His eyebrows furrowed together and he sighed. Charlie had forgotten yet again about their meeting. Larry walked around the office, dialing Charlie's cell. His friend had apparently turned his phone off, or perhaps never turned it on that morning. Larry roamed around a bit more, looking at the knick-knacks around the office. He picked up the pewter hand that held notes. There was a pecular business card for some surgeon. Larry blinked. Earlier the math professor had lied about a psychology project. He had claimed that he was using prodigy studies and brain surgery as research for a prodigy project. The psychology department, in fact, had no such study. Larry flipped the card in his hands. Usually he would respect Charlie's ever growing need for privacy, but with all the strange behavior and the presence of a surgeon's card, Larry began to worry. Larry picked up Charlie's date book and opened it to today's date. Immediately his face paled and he quickly dialed Don's cell phone.

Charlie nervously wrung his hands, his foot tapping. In normal circumstances, he would have thought the presence of the magazines as he waited for his "doctor" was humorous. Then again, there was no such thing as normal circumstances where he was. He knew what he was doing was illegal. He knew what he was doing was dangerous. He knew that he'd never be the same, and that's what he wanted. A large man came from a door to his left, dressed in torn jeans and sat down beside him. Charlie looked at him, weakly smiled, and then looked down. The man cleared his throat and turned to him, flicking a lighter and lighting a cigarette. "Want one?"

Charlie smiled and shook his head no. He began to focus on his wringing hands again. The man spoke again, "Whatcha hear for?"

Charlie shrugged, "Brain surgery."

The man raised his eyebrows, "You realize how dangerous that is?"

Charlie looked up and nodded. "Yeah, Yeah I do."

The man shrugged, "Your choice. You know you might die."

Charlie blinked a few times, "I'm aware. How about you?"

The man grinned, revealing missing front teeth. "I'm just fixing an old mistake."

Charlie nodded and waited, while the man beside him flicked his lighter a few more times. It was a few minutes more before a woman with dyed red hair came over and led him into a dingy yellow room. She smiled and shut the door. "Hello, I'm Marcy."

Charlie waved and sat down on the cot. He cleared his throat, "I thought it'd be cleaner."

"Oh you'll be fine. Dr. Ruffalo has done this a dozen times."

Charlie nodded, "I'm a little nervous."

"As well you should be, it's normal. Now, before we start the procedure, there are a few things you need to know. First off, you will keep this place and what happens here in absolute confidence. We are a private firm and would like to keep it that way." Marcy coughed a bit and then cleared her throat, continuing, "Secondly, we need the money upfront."

Charlie opened up his back pack, revealing it to be filled with bills. "Just... lets get to it, ok?"

Marcy grinned, flipped through the dollar bills and then called out the door. "Doc" Ruffalo walked in. He seemed to be in his forties, with long tied back black hair and cutting eyes. His fingers were wrapped in bandages and Charlie shut his eyes. Doc had large muscles, and a tight tank top, with torn jeans as well. Charlie physically backed away, gulping. He wasn't feeling very safe anymore. He began to shake slightly. He thought of Alan, and Don, Amita and Larry... He thought of the solarium and the koi pond. He thought of Conrad, a young prodigy from Princeton. He thought of all the people who loved him, and all the good times he had. He thought of the awards, and the consulting. If he had this procedure done, those would all be over. He might die. Doc raised an eyebrow, "Charlie? You look a little nervous. Don't be."

"I... I... I think I'm going to... I'm having second thoughts." Charlie stuttered.

Doc looked at Marcy and smirked, "Doesn't everyone."

"No really," Charlie tried again, "I can't go through with this. I mean, I'll just take the money, and go. No harm, no foul."

Doc turned to Marcy and laughed, "You think you're walking out of that door with a backpack of money that belongs to me."

Charlie's breathing was speeding up, his heart rate matching. "Please," He begged, "You can keep the money."

Marcy was setting up the gas mask and grinned, "Sweetie, we can't have you talking about this place either."

Doc moved towards Charlie, taking the mask from Marcy. "The procedure will go ahead as planned."

Charlie tried to stand, when he realized that two more men had entered the room. "No, please, I'll do anything. Just stop this, stop this please!"

Doc walked forward and indicated to the two men that they should hold Charlie down. Charlie began to scream as Doc placed the mask onto his face. Thick tears rolled down his face as he felt his eyes droop, and the sounds disappearing. His last memory confused him, for he smelled smoke. Perhaps those were hallucinations. He gave a last prayer to God for forgiveness. Soon, he fell into darkness.

Marcy sighed, "He was cute too."

She picked up the razor and began to shave his hair off, preparing for the surgery.

Don shook in anger and fear. He glared at the building, knowing that the basement stairs led to an illegal medical office. He also knew that his arsonist was going to hit here. The profile was that he was a large male, white, obsession with fire, five foot ten. Witnesses said that they saw him by the scene of the crime, flickin his zippo, apparently the flame that started it all. Don's phone rang and he picked up, hearing Larry's voice frantically warning him. Don's face grew serious and his eyes full of worry. He stood up, shutting the phone off and changed the orders, "David. I'm going in."

David looked at him from across the street, "What? That's crazy. Our guy might be burning it right now."

Don looked at the building. He saw a faint stream of smoke. "David, Charlie is in there. I've gotta go in. Call the fire trucks now, get the ambulance now."

Don raced down stairs, feeling the door. It was cold, so he pushed his way in, gun up. Two agents followed behind the experienced agent. Don ran through the first room, "Clear!"

The smoke was getting thicker as he went into the second room, realizing what was on fire. There was a couch and a bunch of magazines on fire. Don took his gun out, radioing in that the arsonist was around. One of the agents pointed, "He's there!"

Don looked up to see their suspect running down a hallway. Don signalled his two agents to follow their man. Don instead started yelling Charlie's name. He opened up a door, to see a man standing above a person, with a scalpal. There was a girl smoking, legs crossed, counting money from, Don noted in horror, Charlie's backpack. Don pointed the gun, "BACK OFF! FBI!"

Marcy looked up and swore, running from the room through a back door. Doc stood his ground, scalpal raised. "YOU SET MY OFFICE ON FIRE!" He yelled, infuriated, "I can smell the smoke! You back up, or I kill this man."

Don walked in, eyes trained on the man. "Put the knife down. It's over. An Arsonist started this fire, and the place is going up, so drop the knife and I can get you out of here."

Doc shook his head, "Never!"

He raised the scalpal and slammed it down, but not before the bullets from Don's gun hit him. Don ran forward, gun still trained on the man standing over his brother. Don looked at his brother, who was thin and weak, his skin pale. His curls had been shaved off. His eyes were shut, and there were deep tear lines down his face. Don gasped for air, mainly due to the fire, as well as in despair. Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder and he turned. There were fire men. Don pointed at the man on the ground and then lift his brother, placing him over his shoulder. The smoke was getting thicker and he began to choke. The fire fighters threw over them a fire resistant blanket and led them out. Once outside, Don took a deep breath. David rushed to him, taking Charlie from his arms, leading the two to the ambulance. Don was shaking, David with a hand on his shoulder. Don began to speak, "He did it. He was there to get an illegal surgery... He was going to kill himself."

David blinked, "Don, Don, it's alright. You saved him. Lets get you some oxygen, and you'll both go to the hospital."

"He was going to have his frontal lobes removed." Don rubbed his face, "I can't believe it... Larry... oh god, I gotta call Alan."

David nodded, squeezing his shoulder and helping the EMT place the oxygen mask on Don's face. Charlie was being attended to, already in the ambulance. David helped the older agent inside, and shut the ambulance doors, patting it as it rushed to the hospital.

They had caught their serial arsonist. They had shut down the illegal hospital, apprehending all employees. Yet, this felt more like a failure than anything else. David had never seen Don lose his cool as he just did. It was also terrifying seeing their Charlie, weak, passed out, bald in Don's arms. David rubbed his face, taking a deep breath. Another agent walked up to David. It was Agent Kerry Ruez. She was Terry's replacement. "Agent Sinclair, Both of them will be fine. An EMT told me that he was just under laughing gas."

David looked at the agent and scoffed, "Charlie went to an illegal hospital to have brain surgery. He is far from being fine."

David stormed to his car, on his way to pick up Alan. Whereas the Eppes boys health would eventually be fine, Charlie's mental health was an entirely different story.