Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Numb3rs or the characters therein. All characters and places are fictional, and should not be associated with any person or place- real or imagined.

Author's note: Complaint I'm too choppy. Think I agree. Changed my method some. Hope it's better. :) At the risk of receiving a hundred writing criticisms, I am going to admit that I actually do pay attention when I receive a critique. That is one reason why I rewrote Chapter 7, why I changed Melinda from a psychologist to a psychiatrist, and made David and Megan's reactions less emotional at the end of the'Red Baron". Until it was recently pointed out, I had not realized how choppy all those - symbols were making my writing, and I may go back and do some repairs on my previous chapters later. So far, I have found all of my critiques to be very constructive and I truly thank you for them. On another note, I am on spring break, so I am spending all my time writing and want to post as many chapters as I can this week. Feel free to send me a polite slow down if you see that my writing is suffering. : )

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It was less than a half-hour before Alan was supposed to call Dr. Wang, when Charlie came flying into the house, the front door left open behind him.

"Dad! Dad!"

He ran up the stairs to check his father's bedroom, then raced through the other upstairs rooms before running back down the stairs and heading to the kitchen. When he did not find Alan, he walked slowly back to the entryway, lost in his thoughts as he shut the front door.

"Are you looking for me, Charlie?"

His attention drawn to the living room, Charlie realized his father was sitting calmly in his recliner. "Look," he exclaimed, waving a DVD in front of his father. Turning on their television, he put the disc in their machine and pressed play on the remote control. Alan leaned forward as he saw a newscast begin to unfold: there was a crowd of people surrounding a low, white building with tall glass doors and windows in front. The camera angle changed as it floated over the shoulder of the speaking newswoman and zoomed in behind her, focusing inside as suited-men escorted a group of people out through the entrance.

"There- there! In the back." Charlie pointed to the upper left-hand corner of the screen, pressing pause on the remote that he was continually fidgeting with in his hand. Getting out of his seat, Alan put on his reading glasses and walked to the television, his eyes fixed on the area just above the spot where the tip of Charlie's finger rested. He abruptly jerked back, whipping off his glasses.

"It's Don!" he blurted.

"I know. One of my students brought this to task force headquarters today. And that's Megan standing next to him. They must have found him sometime yesterday; for some inexplicable reason, they haven't been able to notify us yet." Charlie paced back and forth across the hardwood floor, his thoughts swimming laps around the inside of his skull.

"Sit down, Charlie. I've got something to tell you." Recognizing the seriousness of his father's tone, Charlie plopped onto the couch, the remote control continuing to be twirled in his left hand. "Colby came by sometime after midnight. I tried to get a hold of you, but you never turn your damn cell phone on."

Pulling his phone from his jacket, Charlie confirmed that his father was right- damn thing wasn't turned on; it wasn't even charged. "So, where is he? When can we see him? Was that a hospital he was at?"

Out of habit, Alan put up a hand to slow his son down. When he had Charlie's full attention, he took a deep breath and began to explain everything that he had been told, purposely omitting several of the details concerning Don's behavior. He was afraid of how Charlie would react to hearing his brother was behaving submissively and fearfully toward a seemingly harmless woman, as his youngest son's view of his brother was of a strong and commanding man. Better to wait until he heard from Dr. Wang, as it wasn't important just then.

When his father told him where Don had been found, Charlie interrupted him, "Alta Sierra? I was there just last week. I took a student of mine to see his grandfather." Tossing the remote on the couch, Charlie started chewing his left index finger, resting his head in the palm of his right hand. "Jimmy, it must have been Jimmy who recognized Don. His grandfather came and got him a couple days ago. He hasn't been back to task force headquarters since and I've been told that he's called off from all his classes this week."

"I guess it's possible, but I don't know because Megan never told me the name of the person who sighted him. She just said it was a neighbor who saw Don walking around the doctor's property."

Charlie's head jerked up out of his hand.

"Doctor? You don't mean Dr. Thompson? Don wasn't found there, was he?"

Alan studied his son, responding, "How did you know about Thompson, Charlie? Do you know the woman?"

Jumping off the couch and beginning to pace, Charlie started work on tearing the flesh from his ring finger. "Bob, Jimmy's grandfather, said the woman had a son that had just gotten out of an institute. He referred to her son as 'special', but I know he meant slow, Dad. He also described Dr. Thompson's son as being terrified of her, and he said that she was evil." Charlie ran his fingers through his hair over and over again, his whole body busy with agitation. "If that was Don, w-what did she do to him; he has a high-average I.Q. and would never be described as special. And what would make him afraid of her? She's just one middle-aged woman while Don's strong, and he carries a gun, and h-has defense training..." A look of horror mingled with guilt suddenly took over Charlie's features. "I saw him Dad. When I left Bob's, I drove by Thompson's house and took a l-look at it; I was curious about what Bob had said. It must have been D-don who I saw standing in the window, but I c-couldn't see his face. H-how come I didn't recognize him, my own brother..."

Alan stood up and strongly gripped his youngest son's arms, forcing him to slow his flustered movements. "Look at me, Charlie," Alan demanded, waiting until his son's eyes met his own. "There is no possible way for you to have known Don was in that house, no way at all. And if Jimmy was the one who recognized Don, you have to remember that if you hadn't given him a ride to see his grandfather, your brother would never have been found. That's what's important, not these illogical questions of 'why didn't I'." Rubbing Charlie's arms, he continued, "As for what that psychiatrist might have done to Don, if we rely on our imaginations, we'll be able to think up a million horrible scenarios. Let's keep our speculations in check, and wait until Megan is able to tell us more. It might not be as bad as you think. Now, it's time for me to call Dr. Wang, and we'll see what he has to say about the whole situation."

Nodding his head, Charlie sat down, listening to his father's end of the conversation as his leg bounced up and down, a stream of numbers repeating the same disturbed movement in his head.

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After he had escorted Megan out in the early hours of the morning, Dr. Wang went back to his office to thoroughly read the three printed pages that Donny had handed him. The first page was a schedule, listing hourly times on the left hand of the paper with corresponding activities on the right. Things like: 7:00- wakes up, uses bathroom, has three bottles; 8:00- takes a bath, gets dressed; 9:00- watches cartoons until lunch; and so on, so forth. The second page listed the details that affected the successful completion of the activities listed on page one: He drinks flavored adult supplements- prefers strawberry, his favorite flavor. He wears jeans and t-shirts, and is never without his belt- he needs help getting dressed and undoing his clothes, but not in actually using the bathroom. He loves to take a bath- he takes one daily, with bubbles and hot water... The last page was simply a list of items that, according to Dr. Thompson, Donny would need in order to be happy, including name brands of personal items and clothing, as well as specific types of toys; she had even included the names of stores at which the items could be purchased.

After scanning and printing the last page, Dr. Wang called in his staff of gofers, handing them each a copy. When his lead man looked over the list, his only question was, "What time?" as he and his partners were used to obtaining odd items at all hours of the day and night. Dr. Wang stated seven a.m., but preferably six-thirty if possible. With a 'no problem', the men set off to their tasks, returning to the institution at a remarkable six-fifteen, which allowed Donny's nursing staff time to set up his bath and recreation rooms while he slept; his new bedding they folded and kept at the nurses' station until he was awake and out of bed.

At seven o'clock, Wang began a two-hour vigil watching Donny from the comfort of his office. His computer was connected to every camera in the institution; with a push of the button he could see into every single room within the building, except the lockers and bathrooms designated for the staff. The bathrooms of the patients, however, were not off limits to him; it was a necessary precaution against suicides, and was clearly stated in all admitting papers. He watched as his new patient, who was clad in t-shirt and boxers, scooted out of his bed, looked wildly around the room and thrusted his right thumb into his mouth. Noticing the bathroom through its open door, he used the facility, and then partially opened its door, peeking around the edge, probably to see if anyone had entered the room while the door was shut. He then sat on the end of his bed, pulling a large plastic zip-locked bag from under his shirt, where it had stayed in place from the combined pressure of his left arm and the waistband at the top of his boxers. Opening it, he pulled out a flattened bundle of fur.

Ah- so there's Buddy, Wang thought, writing notes in an old-fashioned manner within the pages of a leather ledger. He noted the way Donny clung to the rabbit while he readjusted himself under the blankets of his bed, hiding the toy underneath so it could not be seen by curious eyes, his thumb still stuck within the wet thickness of his mouth. Debra, one of his day nurses, came in at that moment, smiling sweetly while she used the fingers of her right hand to toy with the long, black hair that fell angelically about her young neck and shoulders, a small cooler bag hanging from her left arm.Wang had specifically placed her with Donny because she had a similar appearance to Dr. Thompson; Wang had met the latter on several occasions during the course of his career, as they had tended to run in the same professional circles.

When first hearing of Dr. Thompson's involvement from Megan, Wang had wondered why the psychiatrist would choose to kidnap the man he was watching. He knew that at one time she was highly regarded- considered at the top of her field. Whatever the reason for her digression from respectability, Wang decided that he would follow the dictates of her listed routine; Donny was showing signs of anxiety disorder and, in order to keep its symptoms under control, his doctor felt that he needed the structured schedule that he had become accustomed to- at least until he received thorough physical and clinical evaluations.

Still, even though he appeared fearful and anxious of his new surroundings and the staff, Dr. Wang had seen that Donny eventually did whatever he was told. The only time he had observed any real opposition from his patient was when he had insisted that Agent Reeves not escort him to his room. Wang suspected that this, along with the handing over of the printed notes, had been a directive from Dr. Thompson; even though Donny was no longer in her presence, he continued to be obedient to her. Which was probably why he obeyed every direction the nursing staff had given him from the moment he had been placed in his room, for he had obviously been taught well to submit to females.

Wang continued to write down notes as Debra stood next to Donny's bed, her patient shivering and crying in response to her closeness, pulling his blankets over his head to hide. Debra pulled three bottles from the bag on her arm and pressed the air from each one, then she gently pulled the blankets back down over Donny's head, managing to get him to drink through soft coaxing words and a compliment of 'what a handsome rabbit Buddy is'. Using the same soothing technique, she was able to persuade him to let her give him his bath. Wang could not keep from rolling his eyes when the pretty nurse casually remarked, "Oh, you're not entirely a little boy, now are you" when she helped her patient out of his clothes and into the tub; the doctor recorded that the nurse's observation had garnered no verbal or physical response from Donny. The kind of innocence for her double entendre that one might expect from a child, he thought. The doctor was better-satisfied with his nurse's behavior when he noticed that she averted her eyes when drying Donny off after the bath, her way of reestablishing her professional detachment.

Once Donny had been dressed, Dr. Wang switched the computer's view from the bedroom to the recreation room. It was this view that he was continuing to watch when his phone range. He picked it up with a crisp introduction of "Dr. Wang."

"My name is Alan Eppes. I believe you have my son, Donny, at your institution?"

"Ah, Mr. Eppes," he replied, tilting back his chair, "I can neither confirm nor deny that your son is currently listed as one of our patients; I am not misguided, however, in my own belief that you already have the answer to that question?"

"Yes, I talked to Agent Reeves early this morning. Besides, my younger son brought me a recording of a newscast that was filmed outside your institution. I can clearly see Donny standing inside with Megan, a nurse, and a doctor- whom I suppose would be you."

"Hmmm, yes, no reason in denying it was me. That little incident was beyond my control and regrettable, very regrettable. I do not like my patients to be disturbed by clowns and circuses and the parades they bring. However, if you watched the entire broadcast, you must have seen that I have my own little methods of putting a stop to any unsolicited show."

"They are very effective methods from what I observed."

"Well, then, let's get down to business, Mr. Eppes. I can not violate the privacy rights of any of my clients. However, I can give you a suggestion that is general in nature and could easily apply to any number of patients."

"I'm listening."

"When an adult individual becomes incapacitated mentally, his next of kin can petition to become his conservator; once appointed, that conservator can then make medical and financial decisions for the incapacitated individual- gain access to him and all his records. The person petitioning for conservatorship would need a good attorney; I happen to know an exceptional one with whom I have worked in the past."

Taking the name of the attorney, Alan thanked the doctor for the legal advice and for taking good care of Donny.

While he talked, Dr. Wang watched as Donny sat on the floor of his recreation room, his legs stretched out before him and with his back against the only seating in the room, a large, overstuffed couch. Besides the television and DVD player that he was watching, the only other furniture in the room was a newly acquired blue toy box that was filled to the specifications of Dr. Thompson once again. Donny was sucking his thumb and cuddling Buddy, occasionally dropping his head to whisper in the rabbit's right ear, the whole time pulling and stretching the left one.

When at last he put down the receiver of the phone, Dr. Wang again wondered about the purpose behind the behavior of his former colleague. Once, you were considered the best in your field- no one could touch you, he thought, is this broken man I see before me the result of a personal experiment to prove just that. Stepping away from his desk, Dr. Wang checked off a series of physiological and psychological evaluations on a chart – ones that he wanted performed on Donny. As he went to personally see to his patient, he privately promised Dr. Thompson, Well, I am now the best in my field- and I'm going to repair all of the damage that you've caused.

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"Bet he's expensive."

"Does it really matter, Charlie. I want your brother back and we've already spent so much."

The Eppes men were sitting in the small reception area of Harvey Johnson's office. Every bit of decoration around them spoke of refined taste, from the authentic classical paintings on the wall, to the imported oriental rugs and the Indiana limestone that comprised two walls, to the soft leather of the chairs upon which they sat. It also spoke the language of expense, lots of expense.

Alan had been surprised to get an appointment that day; he had only to mention Wang's name and the receptionist told him to come in at two o'clock. He and Charlie had gotten some sleep before driving to the downtown office of Johnson.

The receptionist looked up from her typing promptly at two, inviting the men into Johnson's office, where they scrutinized the attorney.

Harvey Johnson was somewhere between the ages of thirty-five and fifty-five, his appearance shifting up and down the scale according to the dictates of the jury; he could seem younger and hipper to a jury that responded to a more youthful approach, or he could take on the worn mannerisms of the experienced sage, if that was what the twelve people in the box expected of him. In any case, he was a tall man- well over six feet- and had brown hair speckled with gray, blue eyes with the perfect touch of wrinkles at the corners, and a broad, inviting smile that greeted Alan and Charlie when he stood up to confidently shake their hands and exchange introductions. A deep, measured voice came from between his tight lips as he asked them to sit down.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen."

"Thank you for squeezing us in, Mr. Johnson. We are in a hurry to conduct our business."

"Of course, most of my clients usually are. Now, am I to assume that you want to petition to become conservator of a loved one?"

"Yes. I see you have already talked to Dr. Wang."

"No, I haven't. The cases that Wang tends to send me are those involving conservatorship. It is an area in which I excel."

"Oh, I see. Well, what do we need to do, and how long will it take?"

"Normally, the procedure would be long and drawn out. We would first petition the court; they would assign a court investigator to investigate whether the individual actually needs a conservator; then we would have to write letters to the individual and other family members so they would have knowledge of the petition; the court might then order physical and psychological evaluations to be performed on the individual, as well as interview the potential conservatee; and, then finally, a court date would be set up to review the information gathered by the court investigator, as well as the evaluations and the testimony of the individual's family and friends. If the court determined a conservator was necessary to the well-being of the individual, then you would be appointed."

Alan and Charlie sat back in their chairs. This was going to take too long- they couldn't wait for all this legal procedure to be finished before they saw Don. It had already been over two months.

Sensing their exasperation, Johnson revealed his trump card, explaining cockily, "Or I can put in a petition for an emergency conservatorship. It is only temporary, but it will fulfill your needs. No letters of notification, no long court investigation, and no waiting months for a hearing. All we'd need would be a statement from Dr. Wang that some life and death medical decision needs to be made and your son is too incapacitated to make it. At the most, we are talking a week."

Johnson beamed proudly at Alan and Charlie. They looked at each other, Alan turning with a frown to the attorney.

"But what if there is no life and death medical decision. To all appearances, my son seems to be in good shape..."

"Don't worry, Mr. Eppes, I will take care of everything. That is why you are going to pay me all my expensive but well-deserved fees."

The attorney cordially handed Alan a detailed list of his fees along with the required court costs. After looking it over, he and Charlie agreed to the expenses with the stipulation that it would take no more than a week for Alan to become conservator. Johnson handed him a gold-rimmed pen and contract, which Alan dutifully signed as his attorney assured them that their demand would be met. When he was finished, Alan wrote a check out to Johnson, who deftly slipped it into the top drawer of his desk, then stood up to walk the Eppes to his door. "Very well, gentlemen, I would like to wish you good day. By a week from today, Mr. Eppes, I guarantee you will both be conservator of and have gained access to your son."

While they waited for the elevator to arrive, Charlie turned to Alan and sadly complained, "I don't think Johnson understands that another week is going to feel like eternity with Don so close but out of reach..."

Alan could only nod his head in agreement.