Series: Numb3rs
Season: 2
Part: 6/7
Rating: K+

Disclaimer: Numb3rs and its lovely characters don't belong to me. They do to CBS. Unknown OC belongs to me. We all know the drill…

A/N: I would like to thank CELADON for helping me proof this story. Sometimes I wonder how I manage to make so many mistakes even after re-reading the text a few times. THANK YOU for all your help Celadon! Thank you all of you for reading and reviewing.

Don't Stay Away From Home For Too Long

Chapter 6: Hold on to your part of the deal

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Waiting.

There was nothing worse in Charlie's opinion. Yet, it seemed that waiting was all he could do; wait for the proper authorities to investigate his findings, wait on lab results, wait for his brother to get better – or worse, wait to know more. Charlie hated waiting for information to come to him. The researcher that he was always preferred to pro-actively collect the data he needed to make adequate conclusions about the hypotheses he was formulating. However, at this point in time, the data collection was out of his hands and he could do nothing more than wait.

The first forty-eight hours following Don's hospitalization had been hectic and somewhat of a blur by now. Charlie had divided his time between the hospital, the FBI office, and his house – where he had forced himself to get a few hours of sleep. After all, it was part of the deal he had made with his brother. If he expected Don to fight the virus that had invaded his body, he had to hold up his part of the deal too and take care of himself.

Charlie had also made a point of being there for his dad; providing a shoulder to lean on, insisting that he sleep in his own bed, and rounding up the support system so his father would not be alone while his youngest son was working.

Charlie was grateful to all the people who had answered his call for help and continued to be there as the days went by. Donna – the caterer whom his father dated from time to time – had provided some comfort food. Stan and Art – Alan's best friends – and their respective wives had passed some time with him both at home and at the hospital. Larry, Amita, Terry, Megan, David and Colby had also been there faithfully. Even his Aunt Irene had called everyday.

With the help of Don's team in L.A, Terry Lake, Corporal Pierre-André Leblanc from the RCPM, Dr. Andrea Smith from the CDC, and Dr. Marc Robinson form Health Canada, Charlie had first gone over the relevant details of Don and Véronique Dupuis's case files – mapping possible contaminated sites. The victims' symptoms and the strain of the virus – the one carried by the deer mouse in North America – had led the team to conclude that Don and Véronique had been infected sometimes after their return from Europe, where they had worked for almost three week. Hence, they had focussed on all the cases notes going as far back as 26 days.

Don's friends and colleagues had been very careful not to expose Charlie to any disturbing pictures and other sensitive information; all of them being aware of Don's wish to protect his little brother from upsetting material. Despite the fact that Charlie was getting used to seeing some of that gruesome stuff his brother's team was dealing with on a regular basis, he had been glad to be sheltered from it this time. He knew there was only so much heartache he could handle at one time. Besides, his job had been to determine where the victims might have been contaminated by mice's dropping, urine, and saliva. Therefore, there had been no need for him to read all the case notes and to see the troubling photographs.

Charlie had actually been rather proud of himself for having no desire to know each and every sordid detail. His need to gather all the data in order to understand every potential dynamic of a problem had too often gotten him in trouble in past. This time, only focusing on the big picture had proven to be a very good way to take care of himself throughout this ordeal. It was another way to be faithful to the promise he had made to his brother.

Through the study of the case notes, Charlie had been able to identify and rank-order six potential locations where Don and Véronique, along with the other victims, had been most likely to be infected – a number that was actually quite alarming. However, what was even more troubling was the increasing number of victims. They were now counting nine of them, among which five had died already. The dead count listed: the original victim in New York, one of his co-workers – a man from New Jersey, the dead woman found in Montreal, and two other young women – whose bodies had also been unceremoniously discarded in field in Toronto. Among the remaining four figured: Don, Véronique, and two crime scene technicians from Montreal – a man and a woman – who had assisted Don and Véronique on various occasions. It appeared that all the victims had been related to the sex-trade, from one side of the law or the other, and that more victims were likely to be found.

On the fifth day following the onset of Don's illness, Charlie decided to go back to Cal Sci and give one of his lectures. Going back to his regular work had been a welcome distraction and had proved to be a good source of stress relief. Upon his return to his office, he had found a message from Terry on his voicemail. He had called her back immediately.

"Hey, Charlie," Terry greeted him from her office in Washington – to which she had returned the day before. "Thanks for returning my call. We finally have some good news. Pierre-André and his team have found the contamination source."

"That's fantastic!" he replied happily. "Was it the container?"

"Yes it was," she confirmed. "The container Don and Véronique had flagged at the pier in Montreal was indeed contaminated with the virus. The lab confirmed it earlier this morning. The container had been used to illegally transport the women across the border. It had left the train station in New York, made a stop in Toronto, and then continued to Montreal. Based on the information provided by one of the latest victims before she was put on the ventilator, we were able to make five arrests last night: two in New York and three in Montreal; and that's just the beginning. We were also able to rescue eight women who had been abducted in Eastern Europe."

"Those are great news, Terry. Congratulations!"

"Well, congratulate yourself as well, Charlie. You did a wonderful job, especially under the circumstances." She paused and took deep breath before asking. "How's Don?"

"I wish the news about Don was just as great, but- he's not doing so well, Terry."

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"The word about you being here got around. You're receiving get-well wishes from all over the world: Canada, England, France, Italy, Bulgaria, Australia, Taiwan, and here in the US, of course," Charlie eagerly told his brother.

Don was looking up at him with tired half-opened eyes. Yet, he was remarkably alert in that instant.

"I know now that you've been traveling a lot ever since you joined the Internal Anti-Sex-Trade Task Force, especially in the last few months, but I never thought it was that much. You made a lot of friends during that time. Of that I'm not surprised, though. You've always been a popular guy. That was making me so jealous back in high school, you know. I still am from time to time. I wish I could be as easy going as you are."

Don made a vague gesture to the right which Charlie immediately recognized. He took a pad of paper and a pen and supported it while Don awkwardly wrote: ST WSH I GNIUS 2.

"Sometimes you wish you were a genius, too? No you don't," his brother retorted.

To that, Don wrote back: 2 KP UP W/ U.

"You're keeping up with me just fine," Charlie assured him as he took the pad and the pen away. As pleasant as it was to have his brother actually communicate with him despite his illness, the drugs that were pushed into his systems, the ventilator, and the other equipment tagged to his body, they had to keep it short. The small effort was taking a lot of energy out of Don.

Charlie hovered over his brother again, bringing a hand to the top of Don's head. He had previously determined that it was the safest place where he could touch him – one of the only places where no tubing or wires of any sort could be found. "Actually, you are keeping up with everything just fine. I'm so proud of you," Charlie told him lovingly.

Don blinked once. He was doubtful, Charlie concluded.

"It's all the truth and nothing but, my dear brother," he continued on a pleasant tone. "I know it doesn't feel that way, but you're doing great. I can understand if you're having doubts, tough. I've been having my share too." Charlie drew in a breath. "Just like on the other day- maybe I shouldn't tell you this? You can take it, right?"

His brother simply stared back.

"Well, your doctor told us that they would stop the ventilator for less than a minute to rebalance your oxygenation level – which had dropped to 88. I totally freaked out. I almost passed out. After that I was so angry. I wished I could have been mad at you for not holding on to your part of our agreement, but I couldn't- I couldn't because you have. You've been fighting this with a vengeance." Charlie swallowed. "You have to keep going, okay? You keep on fighting back and I'll keep taking good care of myself and Dad – staying out of the garage and all."

Don blinked twice. Charlie knew his brother was approving.

"Talking about Dad... He would have my head if he knew that I was telling you all this stuff and keeping you from your sleep. I know you're tired and fighting to stay awake for me, now. So close your eyes and go back to sleep. I'll be right here if you need me."

Without hesitation, Don closed his eyes again. Charlie remained standing, stroking his brother's hair for a few more minutes. Only when he was sure his brother was in deep a sleep did he allow his sadness and fatigue to cloud his features.

Tears rolled down his cheeks.

It was true that Don was fighting back. Dr. Ma was often commenting on it and on how much he was impressed by his patient's determination. However, by now, Don was so weak and exhausted that additional parts of his body were being seriously strained. In fact, his kidneys were threatening to fail at any time. It was actually a miracle that Don could wake up from time to time and be able to follow a conversation for a few minutes.

"Just keep on fighting, Don," Charlie whispered. "It's all I am asking."

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With new information to add to his team's most recent investigation, Colby purposefully made his way back to his desk. They had been called into a kidnapping case the night before. The eight-year-old boy of an engineering consulting firm had been taken away, right in front of his mother as she was pulling into the family home's driveway in Pasadena. Despite their fatigue and worry for Don, David, Megan, and Colby dived into the investigation head on. All of them knew that the quicker the child was found, the better were his chances.

As he neared the area where his team worked, Colby slowed his pace. He almost came to a full stop as he spotted Megan and David subdued demeanours. David was quietly talking on the phone, while Megan was standing behind him with her arms protectively wrapped around her chest. She was looking totally lost.

"Megan?" Colby asked softly. "Is everything all right?"

She met his gaze. Tears were welling at the rim of her eyes.

Colby felt his heart skip a bit as unwelcome conclusions half formed in his mind. No, this could not mean…? This could not be it…? Wordlessly; he watched David put the phone back in its cradle. The African-American agent turned around and looked up at them with grief written all over his face.

"Is Don- Don's okay, right?" Colby ventured, not sure how to voice his question.

"For now," David answered him solemnly.

Colby stared back at them. He knew his colleagues would be sad if the young boy they were looking for was to die before they could find him. However, they would not be so shaken. Their professional detachment and experience would help them deal with the sadness associated with such an eventuality.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Is Don getting worse? Is Véronique?"

Megan brought a hand to her face in an effort to block the stream of tears that was now coming down her cheeks. David shook his head with dismay. He took a deep breath.

"Véronique died less than an hour ago," he informed him. "Kidney failure."

"Oh God," was all Colby could say as he leaned on the desk behind him.

Silence fell between the three of them for a few minutes as they allowed themselves to grieve and remember.

"I hope it doesn't mean that Don-" David's words melted in mid sentence.

"He's been one step behind her all along," Megan pointed out with a cracking voice.

"Oh, no. I'm not going to believe that," Colby told them. "My bet's still on Don to pull through this. We have to believe that he will. Positive thinking, remember? That's what we agreed upon. I don't want to see either of you giving up on him because Don is not giving up. He's still fighting."

"Colby's right," David said, pulling himself together.

"I know," Megan told them. "I'm just- I'm scared. I don't want to loose him, too."

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TBC

A/N: How was that? I hope you didn't see too many mistakes. Thanks for reading!

June 2006.