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

Author's note: Yes, more angst on the longest Monday in history. No, I am not trying to drag this out- just trying to detail because it's the way the story has been going. I will be having a few more lighthearted brother episodes coming up. Then, yes, more angst. By now, ya gotta at least have an idea where I'm heading. And yeah, I'm going there.

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While the Eppes men were busy at the institute Monday afternoon, Dr. Melinda Thompson parked her little white car in their neighbor's driveway, put a large purse over her arm, and casually made her way to the back door of their home. She had been pleasantly surprised to see that there was no bodyguard staking out the place across the street. Smugly, she opened kitchen door and walked right in. In this day and age, who doesn't lock their doors? She shook her head, the lack of security a new affirmation that neither her son's daddy nor his brother was appropriately equipped to care for her son. Glancing about, she opened the refrigerator and cabinet doors, noting the lack of supplements and wondering what they planned to feed her son. Lucky I brought him a few more bottles. Just thinking about holding her son and feeding him made her heart ache, and she had to lean against the counter, her hand pressed to her breast. Soon, Donny, soon.

Knowing that their appointments would be all day- that detective sure got a lot of information from the nurse at the institute- she meandered throughout the house. She smiled when she saw the stack of cartoons next to the television, as well as the train she had personally picked out and listed for her son, all set up on the coffee table. It was obvious to her that they continued to help him maintain a semblance of the routine she had taught him. Looking at the walls, she was pleased to see that there were no pictures of his other mother hanging in the few picture frames scattered about. It's only appropriate, 'cause in another week, I'll be his only mommy.

Melinda walked upstairs, looking into each room as she passed. She easily found her son's room, as it was decorated as she had dictated in the directions she had slipped into his jeans. Hmmmm- they went with the baseball motif today. Deciding to come back to do a more thorough search of the room, she looked into the other bedrooms. She thought it curious that the bedspreads were stiff and there were pockets of dust floating in the air, as if the rooms were not being regularly utilized. Melinda picked up the edge of a bed skirt and looked underneath, judging the space to be large enough for her to hide in. Dropping the lace back to the floor, she sauntered back to her son's room. Immediately, her eyes were drawn to the closet. Now, why would the dresser be in front of it?

Taking the time to check and see if anyone had pulled up front, and satisfied that they hadn't, Melinda pulled the dresser away from the closet, ignoring the photo of her son with his father and brother attached to the corner of the mirror; once the dresser was moved a few feet, she opened the closet door and looked inside. She scanned the small space with her keen eyes, inventorying the sports equipment and clothes that were piled within. The only object that stood out was a lockbox, leaning on its side amongst the mess. It was cleared of dust and was obviously not in a position of long-forgotten repose as were the other items. Melinda picked it up and put it on the dresser, trying every way she could think to open it, frustrated when she could not get the lid unlocked. Giving up, she closed the closet and pushed the dresser back in front of it. Gathering up the lockbox and throwing her purse over her arm, she left the room, walking down the hall to the other bedroom. Once inside, she dropped to her knees and pushed her possessions under the bed, slinking underneath and pulling down the bed skirt, and then lying in a comfortable position, anticipating a long wait. But, like any predator whose quarry was within reach, she was more than patient enough when it came to waiting.

Time took a meandering taxi, making each minute seem like an hour, but still, Melinda laid still. Eventually, she heard the sound of movement from outside the bedroom door. The room was dark, the night having moved in over an hour before. When she heard heavy footsteps sound down the stairs, she quietly came out of her hiding place, dragging the lockbox and purse behind her. She opened the door, carefully peeking out- no one was in sight. After taking off her shoes, she padded stealthily down to her son's room, gently opening the door and peering inside: good, he was alone. Suddenly, the doorbell echoed through the house, and a few minutes later, voices floated up to her from the first floor, catching her interest. Leaving the door ajar, she silently glided to the top of the stairs and cautiously listened.

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When the doorbell rang, Alan was hesitant to answer it. He did not think his nerves could handle talking to anybody, especially if they were the bearer of more bad news. But after it rang the second time, he could see the telltale hat of a police officer through the upper window set in the door. Wiping his face quickly with a handkerchief, he got up with a creak from the stairs and answered the door.

"Did you arrest her?" Alan couldn't help blurting out the question to the two young officers standing at the door, one with shaved blond hair and the other with dark black curls peaking out from under his cap. They looked quizzically at one another before taking off their caps and asking if they could come in and talk.

"Sure." Alan opened the door and let the officers in. "Would you like some coffee, or tea? Anything?" He found himself speaking too fast. When the officers responded that it wasn't necessary, Alan led them to the living room, showing them the couch while he sat in the recliner. He realized his mouth and eye had started twitching again, so he tried to nonchalantly rest his cheek on his hand, pressing down to try to keep the convulsive movement in check.

"You arrested her?" Alan's knee began to vibrate, his nerves desperately searching for an outlet.

"Sir," the blond one spoke, "I'm Officer Henderson and this is my partner Officer Reynolds. We are here about the apparent abduction attempt that was made on your son a little more than an hour ago."

"Of course, that is what I am talking about."

Pulling a pad out and perusing its contents, Reynolds inquired, "From eyewitness statements, the supposed abductor was a Perceival Jackson- male?"

Alan released his face and ran his nails into his legs. "I don't know what his name was, but, yes, sure, the person who tried to take my son was male. But the person behind this attempt is female- her name is Dr. Thompson and she first kidnapped him over two months ago. We only recently recovered him."

Henderson sat forward in his seat, rubbing his lower lip. "That may be so- I mean, in regards the kidnapping two months ago, but this attempt tonight…"

The doorbell rang again and Alan ran to answer it. He was becoming impatient with the officers because it sounded as if they had not arrested Thompson. Throwing open the door, he was relieved to see David facing him. "Alan, I'm sorry. I don't want to scare Don, but I was sitting across the street and saw the police car pull up out front- just wondering if anything is wrong?"

Loaded question of the century, Alan thought, but his impatience and nervousness receded as he grabbed the young agent's arm, clutching it like a life preserver. "Yes, there is something wrong, but, no, don't worry about scaring Don- he's sound asleep upstairs." Desperately drawing David into the house, Alan sealed the door shut with a slam and led the agent into the living room to be his backup against Thompson.

After introductions were made, Alan leaned against the entryway leading to the living room while he allowed David to sit in his recliner. He repeated his question a third time, "Did you arrest Thompson or not?"

"No, sir." Henderson. "We do not have any knowledge of a woman named Thompson- just this man Jackson." The officers looked to David for explanations, as Alan had restarted the twitching movement of his eye and mouth, and did not seem to be making any sense.

"Mr. Eppes' son is my boss." The officers tried to hide their shock at this revelation. Quickly, David continued, "He was kidnapped two months ago and sometime before or during his captivity, received a brain injury. Exactly what happened tonight?"

Alan briskly interrupted, "I'll tell you what happened- that bitch tried to take Donny again, only she paid someone to do it this time."

"Is this true?" David addressed the officers; he was also noticing that Alan was becoming unglued.

"Yes- and no. A little over an hour ago, a man tried to abduct a Don Eppes- but he seemed to be doing so for his own, uh…" The officers tried to convey their meaning to David, who quickly interpreted their looks.

Pulling himself to the edge of the recliner, David frowned. "And you have him in custody?"

"Yes, sir."

Alan strode into the room, hands on his hips. "But when are you going to arrest Thompson- why haven't you said she's in custody?"

David stood up and walked to the older man, gently took his arm and led him to the recliner, tugging on his arm until he was seated. Kneeling beside him, he softly explained, "I know it sounds crazy, Alan, but this Jackson man tried to take Don all on his own. It's a separate incident from what happened before- Thompson isn't involved."

Sinking down into the back of the chair, Alan held his hand over his eyes. "But why then, what possible reason could he have for trying to take Don?"

David told the officers, "You can give him the basics, but don't give too many details." He took Alan's hand in his own, squeezing it as the officers began to explain what information they had gathered during their background check of Perceival Jackson, and the general activities he usually reserved for his special playmates. Ten minutes later, Alan staggered to the downstairs bathroom and collapsed to his knees, right before he began dry-heaving into the basin; David stood watch over him from the door, his own stomach in turmoil.

When Alan was finished, he allowed David to help him to his feet. "I need some fresh air, just a little."

"Do you want to go out back?" David put his arm around Alan's waist, trying to shoulder some of his weight.

"No, out front. I can see the bottom of the stairs from the front window." David realized Alan was afraid someone would sneak upstairs and try to take Don again. Leading them outside, David tilted his head to the officers as they passed, letting them know to follow.

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Melinda stood at the top of the stairs long enough to hear Henderson mention the abduction attempt on Donny. Sagging against the wall, she swore in her head- at the man who had tried to harm her son, and at Alan Eppes, for his carelessness for almost allowing it to happen. She slid back to Donny's room, slipping around the cracked door before shutting it softly behind her, placing her purse, shoes and the lockbox on the dresser, and then sidling up to her sleeping son. Oh, baby. I need to get you out of here as soon as I can, before they let something bad happen to you. She bent over Donny, pushing aside his hair. When he blinked open his eyes, she put a finger to his lips.

"Quiet, baby. We don't want to wake anyone up?"

Donny was lying on his right side. He looked behind him, and was surprised that his daddy wasn't there beside him. Disappointed when he noticed his brother was also not present, Donny knew that Charlie and his daddy had to be awake, because they always slept with him. But still, he was obedient to his mother and he kept his voice low as he reached for her.

"Miss you, Mommy."

Melinda lay down next to Donny and wrapped her arms around him, loving the fact that he did the same. She had missed his warmth so much. Kissing him on the head, she asked him if he had really missed her.

"Yes, Mommy." Donny was thinking about what had happened earlier that night- how frightened he had been and how his daddy had shook when he put his arms around him. Though he liked the protection he felt in his mother's strong arms, Donny realized he wished Charlie was there to offer the comfort. He was sure his brother's arms would be steady like Mommy's.

"Scared, Mommy."

"Did one of the bad men try to get you, baby?"

"Yes, Mommy……need you, Mommy." Donny hadn't been sure what had happened with the strange man earlier, but Mommy made sense when she said that he was bad and had tried to get him; no wonder Olivia had hurt him, and Daddy had been so scared. He shivered as he thought about what might have happened- teeth.

Feeling her son trembling in her arms, Melinda's face showed pure fury. "Don't worry, baby. Mommy will take care of that bad man. You'll never see him again." She began to offer her own personal soothing words.

Within the safety of his mother's arms, Donny's fears wanned. Slowly, his mind wandered from the more recent events and he began to remember all the new and exciting things he had done that day. Trying to express his pride, he began, "Big boy, Mommy."

Frowning, Melinda tightened her grip on him. "Are you now, baby?" She laid her chin on top of her son's head, waiting to hear what damage had been done to him.

"Chewed today." Donny nestled against her breast, smiling as he thought about how Charlie had helped him swallow. "Charlie helped."

"He did, did he?"

"Yes, Mommy."

Don wanted his mommy to know everything. "No more bottles." He was sure that Mommy would be proud that he did not need to be fed like a baby anymore. She had tried to get him to eat by himself that one time, but he had not been able to do it. And didn't he make such a mess? That wouldn't happen anymore.

"Really, baby. Is that why you chewed today- so you won't have to drink bottles?"

"Yes, Mommy." Donny thought about the special tools he used to eat and drink. "Fed myself."

"All by yourself? Why, that's interesting, baby. What else did you do, baby." Melinda began to play with his hair as she listened tensely.

"Machines-pictures." His eyes went wide when he thought about how scared he had been. But Charlie had stayed with him, making everything better. "Charlie stayed me."

"He did, did he?" Melinda's fingers began to scratch into the pillow behind Donny's head.

"Picked up things, too." Pride leaked across Donny's face. He had done so many things, all because his brother had helped him. "Charlie showed me."

"My, my. Charlie is so helpful, now isn't he?"

Donny thought about everything Charlie did for him. He nodded his head against his mother. "Bathes me, Mommy."

"He does?" Melinda gritted her teeth. She knew he couldn't bathe himself, but it still angered her to know that somebody else was touching her son.

"Dressed me, Mommy." Donny wanted his mommy to know that she did not have to do everything for him anymore. Maybe if things were easier for her, she would take him with her. And he wanted her to know how helpful Charlie was, so his brother could go with them, too.

"Really, baby."

"Yes, Mommy." Thinking about Charlie and all the things his brother did for him, Donny began to remember the things Charlie had told him, too. "I'm man, Mommy." He wanted to convince her that he was a good boy, that he was a big boy, that he would not be such a burden to her- and it was all because of Charlie. "Like Daddy…..Like Charlie."

"You are, baby? Who told you that?" Melinda was sure she already knew the answer.

"Charlie, Mommy."

Rubbing his back, Melinda hissed her next question. "What else did Charlie say?"

Donny stiffened a little in her arms. He recognized her tone. Cautiously, he answered, "I cared for him." Still smiling, her son raised his head to look at her, hoping to see reflected in her eyes the same pride that he felt. Instead, his gaze was met by twin coals darker than the night. Donny shrank as his mommy coldly asked, "You did, baby? When was that, baby?"

"When we were small." Doubt began to creep back into Donny's thoughts.

"Really, baby. What did you do for him?" Melinda's tone was demanding.

Thinking hard, Donny couldn't remember. He answered with a voice that was barely audible, "Don't know, Mommy." The smile had disappeared from his face.

"Well," Melinda began in a mocking voice, "since you can't remember what you did for Charlie when you were small, maybe you can remember what you can do for him now?"

Though he tried to think of something he could do for his brother, Donny could not list a single thing. "Nothing, Mommy," he sadly admitted, lowering his head in embarassment.

"But I thought you were a man like your daddy and Charlie, baby?"

"I am, Mommy." Donny defiantly stated, his voice muffled as he was now pressing his face into his mother's breast, trying to hide the tears that were starting to gather in his eyes.

"Really, baby." Melinda stopped rubbing his back. "So, you're a man- exactly like your daddy and Charlie?'

"Yes, Mommy." Don's reply was not as sure as his previous one had been; doubt was no longer creeping into his thoughts but was beginning to ensnare them.

"So, you can eat just like your daddy and Charlie."

"With special tools." Donny replied, realizing that neither his brother nor his father needed to use them.

"And all by yourself?" Melinda demanded.

"No, I"- Donny could not finish, as his mommy cut him off.

"And you can take a bath by yourself?"

"No, Charlie"-

"Does Charlie and your daddy need help?"

"No, they"-

"And you can shave by yourself?"

"Daddy"-

"And you can put on your shirt?"

"No, Charlie"- Donny clamped his mouth shut. He was suddenly petrified, lying motionless against his mommy because she was running her hands along his body. He silently prayed that she would not notice his special briefs, but he felt her hand stop at the opening to his pants. Donny tried to squirm away from her, but she held him in place with her arms while her finger made a trail underneath his jeans.

Melinda smirked as she toyed with the plastic rim of her son's briefs. "And do your daddy and Charlie have plastic underwear, or do they get to wear the kind big boys do?"

Humiliation overcame Donny, and he began to cry, his face turned into the crook of his mommy's arm. Charlie says they're only temporary, he wanted to tell her, but he couldn't get the words to come out of his mouth.

"Well, baby," Melinda continued relentlessly, yanking her son's chin in her hand and forcing him to turn and look at her, "are you going to answer me. Do your daddy and Charlie have to"-

"Nuh, nuh, no," Donny stuttered, trying in vain to pull from her grip, gasping desperately for air while he tried to sputter his answers, easily broken by the woman from whom he had been separated for only a couple short weeks.

"No, what?" She squeezed his face.

"Nuh, nuh, Momm-mmy."

"Good. Now let's review. You can't feed yourself like your daddy and Charlie can?"

"Nuh, uh, nuh… Mo-mom-my."

"And you can't bathe or dress yourself like your daddy or Charlie can?"

"Nuh, nuh, nuh, Mommm"-

"And you can't shave or do anything else your daddy or Charlie can, now can you?"

"Nuh, nuh, nooooo. I…I…ca..ca…can't……….Mom..Mommy." Donny could no longer see or think clearly. He wanted to hide in shame- from his mommy, his daddy, and from Charlie.

But Melinda refused to let him go, holding his face in the vice-like grip of her hand.

"So, if you can't do anything your daddy or Charlie can do, and they are men, I guess you can't be a man, now can you?"

"Nuh, Mommm…" Finding it hard to breath, Donny tried to sink inside himself, but his mommy's words continued to tear into him; the heartbreaking pain would not let him escape.

"So," Melinda released Donny's face, letting him burrow into the pillow while she sat up on the bed, "I guess you're still Mommy's little boy, now aren't you?" Her tongue flicked out as she grabbed the back of her son's head and pulled his face to hers. "Now, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mommy."

Melinda released him, letting his head fall back to the pillow. Stroking his hair, she softly assured him, "It's okay, baby. Mommy will take care of you." Donny curled into a ball and reached for Buddy. Though a part of him still wanted and needed and loved his mommy, he made the definite decision that he no longer wanted to be with her. Calming down by rubbing his rabbit's ear between his thumb and finger, Donny started looking to see if Charlie or his daddy was going to save him, his eyes fixing on his bedroom door.

Crossing to the door, Melinda gracefully walked to the top of the stairs and listened. Voices were coming from outside the front door. Deciding to risk some more time with her son, she headed back into his room, angry when she discovered him trying to sneak out of bed. Donny looked up and saw Melinda's expression; he quickly lay back down.

Taking her purse from the dresser, Melinda crossed to her son and pulled out a bottle. She knew if she were caught there, Donny's father would be angry. But he was allowed to have friends over, she was sure, and since the charges had been dropped against her, the elder Eppes would not be able to do anything but have her escorted from his house; and file a restraining order, but with her plans, she knew that would be in her favor, so feeding her son was a risk worth taking.

She lay back down next to Donny, who meekly allowed her to feed him, closing his eyes so he could pretend he was somewhere else. Perceptive of her son's change in attitude toward her, and the limited time she had left, Melinda switched the focus of her attack to Charlie- she was certain that Donny's non-stop talk about his brother was an indication that a strong bond had developed between them. She planned to use this bond as security that the directions she was going to give Donny would be followed by him- exactly.

"It sounds like Charlie has been a very bad little boy." Melinda said coyly. She smiled when she saw Donny's eyes flip open and stare at her. "Keep drinking, baby." She made circles on Donny's shoulder with her fingers while he finished his bottle. "Maybe I need to teach him how to be a good little boy. Do you think I need to do that?"

Donny tensed as she drew the bottle from his mouth. "No, Mommy." He licked his lips. "Charlie's good."

"I don't know, baby. It seems like he has been telling you a whole lot of lies. That doesn't sound like a good boy to me."

Sinking against his mommy, Donny tried to get her to stop talking about his brother. "Bottle, Mommy." Melinda complied, happily watching as her son sucked it down, trying to please her. "Well, now. You're beginning to act like a good little boy again." Her eyes traveled over his body, landing on the top of his jeans. She frowned thoughtfully. Putting a finger in a loop, she asked, "Where's your belt, baby?"

He tried not to, but he couldn't help it. Donny's eyes flew to the closet, but they made a detour along the way back, resting on the lockbox sitting on the dresser, seeing it for the first time that night. The fear in his eyes was enough for Melinda to know what she could expect to find in the container. Clever little brother, baby. Removing the second bottle from Donny's mouth, she packed her purse and took a firm hold on the lockbox. Stepping back to the bed, she sat down on the edge, running a finger across the top of the box, slow, languid circles that were followed obsessively by her son's eyes.

"It seems to me Charlie has been a bad, bad little boy."

"No, Mommy," Don rasped hoarsely.

"Maybe he needs some lessons on how to be a good little boy. What do you think, baby?"

"No, Mommy," Don said more clearly.

"I hate to think Charlie is telling you to disobey Mommy." Melinda stopped moving her fingers, instead screeching her nails down the outside of the metal lockbox.

Don winced. Leaning toward Melinda, he pleaded, "Please, Mommy………..not Charlie."

"Then show me how good you still are, baby."

"Please, Mommy," he begged, sitting up and trying to lay his head on her shoulder.

"You're going to a large room next week, with lots of people. You need to remember three things."

"Yes, Mommy," Donny promised, wrapping his arms around her, trying to keep her attention on him and only him.

"First, you can only call me Dr. Thompson. Repeat that, baby."

"Dr. Thompson," Donny recited, not caring what she wanted him to do, or whether or not it made sense. He just didn't want her to bring up Charlie again- or giving him lessons. He had finally remembered one of the things Charlie said he had done for him when he was little: Donny had protected his brother, and after all that Charlie had done for him, he knew he wanted to do it again.

"The second thing involves Doctor Wang- you remember him." Donny nodded. "Well, a man is going to ask you if Doctor Wang is your doctor or if Dr. Thompson is your doctor…"

"What you want….." Donny whispered. "All want, Mommy."

Cradling his face softly in her hand, Melinda told him, "Of course, baby. Your mommy's good little boy…