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

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Larry placed three dishes into the oven. He hoped the food would still be warm when Charlie and Don settled their differences. A knock at the back door caught his attention. He unlocked it after peering through the window to see who was there.

"Welcome home, Alan." Larry held the door for him. He did not ask Alan about the restraining order, thinking it impolite to do so. Besides, he inferred from the slight twitch of Alan's left eye that things had not gone as hoped.

"Thanks, Larry." Alan immediately inquired after Don. "How did things go with him? He's not afraid of you, is he? Is that why you're hiding out in the kitchen?" Alan noticed Larry had the remains of a plate of food on the counter in front of him, along with a glass of water.

"Oh, no. Your eldest has not exhibited any of the behaviors that would indicate he was afraid of me."

"Good," Alan replied.

"However, his other behaviors have been less than satisfactory in convincing me that he is approving of my presence." Larry leaned against the counter. "Charles has yet to identify the root of that particular problem, but I have my suspicions. I think he is attempting to find the solution on his own at this time."

"Really," Alan asked, "And how is he doing that?"

"I'm not sure. I must confess my own lack of comfort in being between them when they argue."

Alan frowned. "You can't be talking about Charlie and Don. Since Don has come home they've been closer than I've ever seen them; actually, they're closer than I am with either one of them- it makes me envious sometimes."

"I think I am improperly describing their emotions as an action. When I last saw them, they both had stubborn expressions on their faces. However, from what I overheard as I made a hasty but prudent retreat, I must say that anger was not apparent in Charles' articulations to Don. Rather, Charles sounded calm and loving, like he had overcome his natural inclination to espouse loud verbiage toward his brother when he is frustrated with him."

"That sounds more like the Charlie I've come to know over the past week. If they are having some difficulty, it must be because Don is still upset over the nightmares he had last night. Charlie wouldn't risk hurting Don by arguing about something that is bothering him; he hasn't thought about himself for months. As a matter of fact, if I hadn't insisted he talk to Amita today, I think he would have hung up on her."

"Well, I think that my presence has also had an effect on Don's behavior, but I did not want to intrude my thinking upon the situation. Charles seems so proud of his relationship with Don that I was afraid if I proposed there is a negative aspect to it, he might reprimand himself for something in which he has no true blame."

"Let me see what's going on." Alan headed out of the kitchen, Larry trailing. "Are they in the solarium?"

"That's where I left them." When they got there, Larry nervously stood at the entry to the room, while Alan stepped in.

Charlie sat on the couch, cross-legged, his head down as he rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers. Alan could not see Don anywhere, but noticed his recliner was turned in toward the far corner of the room; it took a couple minutes for him to realize why.

Alan strode to the couch and stood over Charlie, just as his youngest son had stood over Don, less than twenty minutes before.

"Charlie, your brother is too old to be put in timeout."

"I know, I know." Charlie flattened his palms against his face and dragged down. He dropped his hands to his lap, staring ahead. "I didn't know what else to do. He wouldn't listen to me, and he kept knocking everything around." Charlie waved a hand towards the cardboard table, which Alan saw was a mess, everything dumped into a pile at its center. "He threw all that stuff on the ground and tripped over it twice, but he still wouldn't stop. I was afraid he would fall and hurt his head."

Alan took a seat next to Charlie. He put an arm around his disheartened son and grinned, "So, how long is he in for?"

Thinking his father was serious, Charlie guiltily replied. "I don't know. I didn't think to tell him how long. I just wanted some time to think."

There was a subtle sound of movement from the other side of the recliner. They both sat up straight, Alan pulling his arm from around his son and Charlie dropping his feet to the ground. Their eyes remained on the recliner as they quietly talked.

"Charlie, Larry has indicated that your brother has been behaving a little different today. I know he seemed out of sorts this morning- his mood hasn't changed since then?"

"No, it hasn't." Charlie leaned back. "Don hid from Larry, but only for a little bit. I thought he was fine when he sat with us at the dining room table and I gave him a Popsicle; but then he wouldn't do his tongue exercises. He kept sucking on the Popsicle instead."

They were interrupted by a loud creaking noise. Charlie and Alan fell silent, staring curiously at the back of the recliner. To their surprise, Don poked his head around the side of the chair. Evidently, he had been listening to their conversation. With his eyes scrunched shut, Don stuck his tongue out, moving it up and down and side to side. When Don felt he had gotten his message across, he opened his eyes and impudently asked, "There…. happy now?" But then he saw the authoritative frown weighing his brother's face, one that told him he better behave; his head quickly disappeared and he began to properly sit in his seat once again.

Charlie couldn't believe that the same person who had called him brave the night before, and had clung to him in order to sleep, had just behaved so insolently towards him. He turned to Alan for support, but was vexed to see his father had a hand over his mouth, stifling a laugh. Charlie whispered harshly, "Quit encouraging him. He's been acting like that all day." Seeking support from his best friend, Charlie looked to Larry; but he was disappointed to see Larry smiling, his mirth apparent from the twinkling of his eyes.

Charlie sank back into the couch. He had just decided on a snappy remark about the traitorous behavior of his father and friend, when the sound of Don's voice suddenly floated across the room. All three men bent forward as they strained to hear what Don was softly saying, but they could only make out some stilted mutterings, peppered here and there with several words that could be distinctly heard: stupid…mean…bossy…liar.

It was clear that Don was talking to Buddy, and that the person he was complaining about was Charlie.

Demoralized, Charlie pushed off the couch and began to shuffle from the room, deciding to let his father take care of Don for the rest of the day. He was stopped by a strong hand on his arm.

"Charlie, I'm sorry. It sounds like you've had a very hard morning." Alan put his arm across Charlie's back, squeezing him reassuringly.

"You don't know the half of it." Charlie said dismally as he allowed his father to comfort him.

"Let's go in the other room and talk about it. I think your brother will be fine right where he is." Alan raised his voice and told Don, "We will be right back. Don't you move a single inch." Then he, Charlie and Larry went into the living room, sitting on the couch. "Okay, tell me everything that happened."

Charlie released his pent up frustration, detailing every thing that had gone wrong since Alan had left for court that morning, punctuating his grievances with waving hands, a shaking head, and distorted grimaces of his face. When he finished, Charlie tried to reason out his brother's behavior.

"I'm sure he's upset about the change in routine," Charlie stated, "but I don't think it accounts for all of his behavior. I would say that he has been affected by Larry's presence, but he hasn't cried or shown any signs of fear, so I don't think that he is the direct cause of Don's behavior change. Then there are the nightmares- they were still on his mind this morning, because he told me so."

"I don't know, Charles," Larry hummed. "I think the most distinctive alteration to Don's environment today had to be my appearance. If we are looking for the reagent that was added to Don's environment and produced his change in behavior, I believe that would definitely have to be me."

"I have to agree and disagree," Charlie rose from the couch and began to walk back and forth, "it obviously has something to do with you, but his mood was already affected before your arrival, Larry, so your presence may be distinct, but I still believe that it is not necessarily the direct cause of Don's behavior." Charlie stopped. With Larry available as his sparring partner for the first time in a long time, Charlie fell into his old routine of applying mathematical solutions to human problems. "Do you think we should quantify all the different occurrences that I listed today, narrow down which one is most likely"-

Alarmed when he saw Larry tent his fingers, Alan broke in. "Before we start the math, can we maybe look at previously gathered data."

Charlie frowned at his father. "Are you talking about how he has been behaving the last few days, Dad? If so, then we would need an entirely different set of variables."

Larry exchanged a knowing look with Alan. "If I am correct, Charles, I think your father is taking about data that is on a more empirical level than analytical."

Alan smiled, gratified that Larry was doing what he did best- helping Charlie put aside his numbers worldview and try to look at things from a more human point of view. It was an action Charlie had been performing surprisingly well on his own for several months, but faced with a particularly tough problem, he could not help but try to look for the answer through the subject he knew best.

"Yes, Larry, I'm talking about personal experience." Alan patted the seat next to him on the couch. Charlie sat down, confused.

"Charlie, when you were little, how did you feel when Donny went to ballgames without you?" Alan gently asked.

"I don't know. Not too happy, I guess."

"Did he ever notice that you were unhappy?"

Charlie stared at his hands. It was hard to think about that time in his life, when Don could be so mean to him and callous about his feelings. He hoped his Dad wasn't saying that he was acting the same way. Charlie believed he had been trying his best to do what he could to keep Don happy, and if his father said he had been treating Don the same way today, Charlie could calculate the exact number of pieces his heart would break into.

"Not really. But I haven't been treating Don that way?" Doubt seeped into his voice. "I was aware of his disappointment this morning in our change of routine, and that's why I kept apologizing."

"No, Charlie, you haven't been treating Donny exactly the same way. You have been in tune with Donny's feelings ever since he came home, and have treated him better than I've ever seen anyone be treated before. And that might be the root of his problem. You haven't been mean to him, or ignorant of his feelings. You just haven't been able to give a name to the problem he is having, so you can't help him solve it. Charlie, your brother is jealous."

"That's not possible." Charlie shook his head in denial.

Alan sighed. He had to have the most self-deprecating genius of a son in the world. Of course Charlie would have a difficult time believing his brother could be jealous. Charlie had spent his entire life running after an older brother who in turn had spent most of his life running from his younger one; the few times that Don had taken the time to stay still, and throw his younger brother a bone of attention, Charlie had jealousy guarded that limited time with him, trying to keep others away. And even though Don had been clinging to Charlie, and begging him to care for him, Charlie would not view the behavior as an indication that Don was grateful to have Charlie. Instead, he would view it as another opportunity to have access to Don; and for that, Charlie would firmly believe that he was the one who should feel grateful.

No, it would never cross Charlie's mind that Don was now the one who didn't want to share his brother. Charlie would more easily believe Don was angry for the change in routine or the stress from his nightmares than he would believe that his brother was jealous.

As the problem was also apparent to Larry, Alan wistfully thought that it would have been nice if he had explained it to Charlie earlier. But Alan also understood his reluctance to interfere. Don and Charlie's relationship had always been precarious, and Larry obviously didn't want to dampen Charlie's spirits by indicating there might be a problem with their solid relationship now.

"Charlie, when we changed Donny's routine the past two days, we did it for him. And you were with him through it all. When we changed it today, we did it for you, so you could spend time with somebody else, specifically Amita, and he must have decided he didn't like you giving any of your attention to her. He didn't want to share you."

"But I apologized," Charlie was unsure about everything his father was saying to him, "Why hasn't he forgiven me?"

"Uh, hum."

Alan and Charlie looked at Larry. "Now do you understand, Charles," the scientist stated with dismay, "I am the reagent responsible for his behavior change."

Charlie began pacing again. "But we spent time with lots of other people on Monday. I don't understand why he would be jealous of me spending time with you."

"Because, Charlie," Alan continued to explain. "You weren't spending time with different people- Don was; on the contrary, you were doing what you have always done, waiting patiently in the wings for the opportunity to have Don to yourself. In a way, your relationship with your brother hasn't changed all that much. And Don is apparently having a hard time adjusting to the fact that you weren't just sitting and waiting for him today, but were busy with Amita and Larry."

Charlie sat down, feeling guilty for not recognizing the reason for Don's outbursts of anger. "I guess that's why he's stayed mad at me. And he probably thought I should know that's how he felt, because I've been able to perceive how he's been feeling every other time he has been sad or frightened or anxious. No wonder he told Buddy I was mean and stupid. He must have thought I was either ignoring the fact that he was feeling insecure or too stupid to recognize it."

"Yes, well, he also called you bossy, so I suppose he didn't like you taking his sucker away and putting him in timeout, either."

Charlie leaned forward, perplexed. "I think you're right, Dad- but, you know, he also said I was a liar. Now why did he call me that? I don't remember breaking any promises to him."

"Huh." Alan nervously rubbed his hands together, just as confused as his son. "I don't know. Did you promise to do something with him today and then change your plans?"

"No, our plans were to do his exercises, just like we did yesterday."

"Well, has he said or done anything that might indicate why he thought you lied?"

Charlie shook his head. "He's been, uh, misbehaving all day, if that's what you want to call it."

Alan stood up and walked to the entryway of the solarium. He checked to make sure Don was okay, and smiled when he saw that his eldest son continued to obey his younger brother by remaining in his seat. Wish he listened that well the first time I raised him, Alan couldn't help but think; maybe I had the wrong son first. Alan returned to Charlie and their conversation, listening as Larry contributed his thoughts.

"When you say he has been upset all day, do you mean from the time he woke up, or from the time you began his routine- or, rather, when you first began the modifications to his routine?"

Charlie thought for a minute; then he replied, "Actually, he only started acting like he was mad at me when I was on the phone with Amita. Before she called, we had been talking about his nightmares, and how Thompson couldn't hit him with the belt anymore, because I locked it away. He was somewhat anxious talking about them, but he wasn't angry." His eyebrows furrowed, Charlie replayed his conversation with Don in his mind. "At one point, he asked me if the belt was really gone and when I told him yes...you know, he told me he didn't believe me." Confounded, Charlie asked, "Now, why would he suddenly not believe me?"

Alan conjectured, "Don reacted like he was really being hit last night. He probably thinks Thompson couldn't be hitting him if the belt was really no longer in her possession."

"But he knows it isn't in her possession; he watched me lock it away and he hasn't seen anyone go near the closet since then."

Charlie and Alan's eyes met. Alan, his throat suddenly dry, hoarsely whispered, "Or has he?"

Two seconds later, Charlie was running up the stairs and into Don's room. He shoved the dresser from in front of the closet and yanked open the door, quickly searching it with his eyes, and then with his hands, shoving old books and sports equipment against the walls, already knowing the lockbox was missing but needing to be one hundred per cent sure.

"Dammit!" Charlie stepped into the living room ten minutes later. "How the hell did she know?"

"It doesn't really matter, Charlie." Alan noted. "For all we know, Don could have told her."

"But now he thinks I'm a liar. How am I going to get him to trust me again?"

Larry quietly offered his opinion, "I would suggest telling Don what actually happened to the belt, and why you were accurate in saying it was gone and he was safe. When he understands that you didn't lie and that it was simply a miscommunication between you two, he won't need to learn to trust you again. Indeed, he will realize that his original trust was never broken."

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Charlie stood behind the recliner, listening as Don occasionally whined to Buddy. He smiled as his brother informed the rabbit that Charlie was a "tattle-tale", remembering that Don often had that same complaint about him when they were younger. But he frowned when he heard Don start to refer to Larry as his "stupid friend", his "mean friend" and that he wished he'd go away, confirmation that Don was jealous of Charlie's relationship with Larry.

Having been jealous of Don's relationships with his friends for thirty years, Charlie knew it was a hard emotion to understand or fight. Charlie reflected that even though he and Don had been working together, and doing after hour's activities whenever they had free time, long before the accident, it had still caused Charlie a certain amount of hurt when he would ask Don to attend a lecture, or accompany him to a conference, or even come over to dinner, and Don would inform him he had other plans. Each time, Charlie had felt little sparks of jealously sizzle on his heart, like he was ten and his brother had rejected him once again, refusing to spare Charlie any of his precious time. This emotional reaction of his hadn't made sense to Charlie, especially because, as an adult, he had good friends and a life of his own; but he knew the emotion didn't have to make sense in order for it to persist.

Since Don had returned from the institute, Charlie thought he had shown him in every possible way that he was the most important person in his life. But maybe his dad was right, that receiving all that attention from Charlie was making it difficult for Don to share him with other people, and making it hard for Don to understand why Charlie would need anyone beyond his family. Charlie also knew that Don had spent two months with Dr. Thompson, with no memories of anyone else in his life and without the ability to care for himself. The woman must have spent all of her time meeting all of Don's needs, and now, in a way, he was spoiled, used to having the undivided attention of his caretaker.

No wonder he was jealous, Charlie thought. Charlie was aware that he himself had also received a similar kind of thorough care from his mother when he was growing up, because he was not a very self-sufficient child. He knew that during those times she had tended to Don, he had felt double the sparks of jealousy- that he had lost his mother's attention while she was taking care of Don, and that his brother was giving her the right to do it.

Charlie wasn't sure if he could express all these thoughts to Don in a way that would make sense. But he knew he had to try to fight the green-eyed monster that was afflicting his brother, especially if he wanted Don to be capable of reestablishing the relationships he'd had with his own friends, which included Larry. He also needed Don to understand that he hadn't lied to him, that Don could still believe him when he made promises, and, most importantly, that Thompson really did not possess the weapon necessary for her to torture him in his dreams.

Sitting on the couch in the solarium, Charlie asked his brother, "Are you ready to talk to me and tell me what's wrong?"

Some mumbled words came from the recliner.

"Come on, Don. I know you're upset that I was talking on the phone this morning. I've already apologized for not taking care of you. And maybe you don't like me spending time with Larry, either. But I have to spend time with my friends. And it won't be long before you'll be spending time with your friends, too. You don't remember, but you have a lot of friends."

Charlie's explanation was greeted with a reception of silence. He decide to reassure Don in the same way that he had when Don was afraid his family no longer wanted him, the day they went to the institute for his tests.

"Just because I talk to other people doesn't mean that you're no longer the most important person in the world to me. You have to know that. No matter who I spend time with, you should know that I will still want to be with you whenever we can. Remember, that's why I gave you my chalk- and nobody else. So you can always know I want you, no matter who I am with or where I go."

Muttered words came from behind the recliner. Charlie leaned forward, trying to hear what they were. "What did you say?" he asked Don.

In a louder voice, Don surlily told him, "Keep your chalk." Why don't you give it to your Larry, he thought.

Charlie sagged back on the couch and crossed his arms protectively, trying but unable to stop the hurt that the slightest rejection from Don had caused once again. The pain started in the depth of his belly and sneaked its way up to his heart, pinning the organ and constricting it so hard, that without thinking, Charlie faintly exclaimed, "Ow. That hurts."

An inquisitive Don turned around in his seat and sat upon his knees, pulling himself up so that he was peering over the top of the recliner. Charlie didn't look like he was hurt, but he was huddled on the couch and didn't look very happy.

Aware of the effect his littler utterance had caused, Charlie groaned, saying louder, "Ow. That really hurt me." Then he lowered his head, looking as sad as he could.

Charlie was relieved to see Don slide around the recliner. Don stood gloomily next to the chair, Buddy hanging from his left hand and his thumb partway out of his mouth, his anger and mulishness finally conquered by his concern that he had caused physical harm to Charlie. He kept his eyes on the floor at first, but then gradually allowed them to glide along the floor and up the couch, until they settled on his brother. When Charlie was sure he had Don's full attention, he rubbed his hand across his heart and said 'ow' one more time.

Don felt guilty. He hadn't really meant to hurt Charlie, but he was angry and wanted him to know it. Only, now he had gone too far and had really hurt his brother, something he had wanted to keep Mommy from doing, but instead had foolishly done himself.

Charlie sat still, his eyes lowered, as he heard Don straggle across the floor and plunk down next to him. To his surprise, Buddy was thrust into his lap and Don's arms encircled him; he felt an unsteady hand trying its best to rub his chest on the spot over his heart. Charlie leaned into the embrace, laying his cheek against Don's chest, his eyes closing as he cherished the welcome warmth. Don laid his chin on top of Charlie's head and tried to chase away his pain, just like his brother had done for him the night before. His hushed voice fluttered unevenly, "Ev'thing, okay…All gone, see…no hurt…no pain…"

And it was Charlie's turn to wonder at his brother's power to make him feel good, to make him feel happy, to chase away everybody and everything that hurt him in his life- the power he had to keep him safe.