Disclaimer: I don't own anything Numb3rs, it's all property of CBS and whatnot, so don't sue.

Chapter 27: To Wash Away Sin and Temptation

The drive to the hotel was made in complete silence, with Mojave, Nighthawk, and Toby all stealing glances at Ghost where he sat in the front passenger seat, dressed in civilian attire, his eyes staring vacantly out the window at the passing Ukrainian scenery. Behind them was a second black SUV carrying Mikaila and her team.

The sun was slowly peaking over Ukraine in a bright new morning,Ghost however,he felt no warmth. His soul was numb to everything other than how filthy he felt as Toby pulled the car into the hotel parking garage where Derek Steele was waiting for them.

Toby and the members of the Big Three unit piled out of the vehicle, followed moments laterby Mikaila and her men.

Steele took one look at his top feild Operative and knew that Ghost was in no mood for explaining. When there eyes met, Steele supressed the urge to shudder at what he saw in Ghost's bottomless, almost black eyes. They were devoid of anything, empty and cold.

Steele wordlessly gave Ghost a small nod and then jerked his head minutely to the side, signaling that he was free to go.

Ghost wordlessly nodded and walked past his commander and disappeared into the shadows towards the hotel elevator.

Mojave and Nighthawk could handle the situation without him. As he walked, Ghost knew Mikaila was watching him as he went.

With a soft chime, the elevatore doors slid open and Ghost numbly stepped inside, the doors sliding back. With a soft jolt, the elevator started it's journey up to the penthouse suite at the top floor. With a weary exhale, Ghost leaned against the elevator wall, letting his head hang limply in defeat, his arms and legs felt like lead, and his body felt unclean, as it actually was.

The ride up was thankfully undisturbed seeing as to how in was 5:00 AM in the morning, most souls still slept at this hour. Ghost new full well the only way he'd get some sleep was if he popped a few sleeping pills. But it was doubtful if even that would work.

With another soft chime, the doorsof the elevator parted and Ghost dragged himself into the deserted hallway. He dug into one of the pockets of the dark-blue sweatshirt he had on and pulled out a roomkey-card, he swiped it through the lock and turned theknob, stepping into the lavish suite, with all the luxeries a person could want.

Ghost let out a disdainful snort.

Luxery, what was it to someone like him?

The only luxery he had any right to was to simply be, seeing as to how he had managed to not die during this mission.

Then, Ghost stopped dead and felt a twinge in his gut. He knew exactly what was happening as he felt and tasted the bile rising up from his stomach into his throat, leaving a sour burn as it went. Ghost ran into the bathroom of his private room within the suite.

He reached the toilet just in time as his stomachbegan to empty itself into the porcelain toilet very rapidly.

Ghost let out a small moan of discomfort as he finished vomiting. With a flush of the toilet, the mess disappeared down the drain.

Wearily, a broken man climbed to his feet and stood before the mirror overlooking the sink.

It was then that Ghost, the top Operativeof the CIA vanished into the recesses of the mind which he shared. Now stood a man with a heart that was slowly shattering to peices for the billionth time.

Charlie sighed as he took in his pale and withdrawn face, if Don or Alan were to see him now, they would have mistaken him for a corpse.

Averting his gaze from his reflection andbegan stripping of his outer garments. He pulled theswearshirt over his head, his muscles aching in protest. Now shirtless, Charlie walked over to the glass shower door, pulling it open as he reached for the faucets for the hot and cold water.

A few moments later, the showerhead erupted in a cascade of steaming hot water. As the shower kept steaming, Charlie continued to strip of his clothing, peeling off the ratty pair of blue jeans and plain white boxers underneath.

Sluggishly, Charlie stepped into the shower letting the hot, soothing water barrage his tired body a moment before he reached for the bar of soap.

He ran the bar over his now saturated flesh, worming up a foamy lather as he washed away the blood and grime. Once he'd rinsed off the suds, he watched in morbid fascination as the now lightly pink hued foam slowly disappeared down the drain. With bleary eyes, Charlie stepped out of the shower and reached out to grab a fluffy white towel, wrapping it around his waist as he grabbed another towel and started drying his wet curls. All this mattered none, he still felt unclean... unhuman.

Charlie dragged his weary body out of the bathroom, he tossed the towel he'd used for his hair over the back of one of the chairs in his bedroom as he made his way over to his black duffle bag and fished out a pair of black sleeping pants. After he'd donned them, he all but stumbled to the bed and sat down on the side of the bed, his back haunched and his head hung.

Charlie glanced at the small, prescription bottle of sleeping pills resting on top of the bedside table.

With a slightly trembling hand, Charlie reached out and picked up the bottle. Slowly, he unscrewed the cap and set about shaking the bottle to get out a single pill. Instead, almost all of the contents of the bottle spilled into his outstretched hand.

For one terrifying moment, Charlie heard the sweet, poisonous voice of temptation in his ear, trying toconvince him that in his hand was the one way to absolute peace.

Death.

The very word echoed through Charlie's mind like an unholy mantra. Charlie stared at the small mound oflittle white pills in his hand.

Was this really the only way out?

Was the only truely free man, a dead one?

These questions, Charlie asked himself miserably.

Then, Charlie's vision went red with fury, shame washed over him at ever thinking he had the right to do something so incredibly stupid, threatening to drown him without mercy.

With his jaw clenched tight, Charlie shot up from the bed where he sat and stormed into the bathroom, the white pills clenched tightly in his fist.

Charlie flung the pills into the serene waters of the toilet and with irritation,watched them disappear as they were flushed down the drain.

With a defeated sigh, the anger quickly left Charlie's being as he stumbled back into the bedroom, his eyes burning and burring up with salty tears as he collapsed onto the crisp white sheets.

Silent sobs wracked Charlie's body as he cucooned himself into the sheets, the exhaustion of all he'd done dragging him into a dreamless sleep.

The nightmares would inevitably find him.