Nixie
Disclaimer: Me no own Numb3rs : - (
A/N: Ok, last chapter I fixed "epitaph" to "epitome" (Thank you vocabulary nazis, I appreciate your expertise!) And so sorry this took so long to write! I had semester exams, and college crap to get filled out and sent in and blah blah blah. I got accepted to OSU, but I think I'm only going to go there a year until I can find a college that has a good Behavioral Science Major/Program (Know any?) So I've been poking around in that area. Busy Busy Busy! Then I needed a day to recuperate from all that busy-ness that I am so unused to (aka I needed a lazy day). But now I have returned with a nice long chapter for U! Official Business is all MADE UP. If it seems unrealistic, it probably is! R&R!
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Chapter Sixteen: The Silence (Sarah McLachlan/Paul Oakenfold, possibly DJ Tiesto, Remix)
The fading light from the sinking sun splashed various hues of orange and red across and reflecting through, the walls through the expansive windows of the FBI office as Agent Don Eppes flipped through a case folder nonchalantly at his cubicle. He had returned to work a week prior and had fallen back into his routine with only minor adjustments; it was like he'd never left.
Agent Megan Reeves watched the older man from across the room as he flipped through the stack of papers in front of him, ignoring the bustle of activity going on all around him. She folded her arms across her chest as she leaned against the doorframe, contemplating the small changes she'd seen in the short time since his return. He rarely worked late anymore; granted he had only been back a week but he adhered to some internal schedule with almost frightening precision, leaving the office by eight at the very latest and never coming in before eight in the morning.
Megan slowly began to walk towards her long-absent boss. He now had a picture in his cubicle, where before he'd been one of the few agents that didn't have any pictures at all. It was just a single photo, crammed way down in the corner of the wall above his desk, and yet there it was: a photo taken by Alan of his two sons and granddaughter sitting together on the front porch of their house. Nixie sat in the middle, a huge perpetual grin plastered on her face with a small navy blue stuffed friend in her lap, her father sat to her right, his hands interlaced in front of him, contentment gracing his countenance and finally Charlie sat to Nixie's left, his hands unwittingly mimicking his older brothers' with an easy smile spread across his face.
Yes, Megan thought, The Eppes family has changed, and not just Don.
"So Don, how do you like being back at work after all that time off?" Reeves spoke as she approached the other agent. Don glanced back at her from over his shoulder, not bothering to rise from his seat.
"I actually missed it—I'm glad to be back." He paused looking down at the manila folder that contained their current case, "Not exactly the kind of case I was hoping to get stuck with when I first got back but," He shrugged, "a case is a case." He gave Reeves an easy grin and she smiled back.
"Well we figured we'd save the hard case just for you." She winked at him and laughed as he groaned and rolled his eyes. Their current case involved a manipulative drug ring that resorted to kidnapping key law enforcement officers' children as leverage. It had been recently kicked over to the FBI as soon as the local P.D., by a stroke of luck, managed to get the, until recently, kidnapped children back in safe custody. They hadn't managed to make any arrests, but that didn't stop them from handing the case over in hurry.
"I just can't figure out how the kidnappersare figuring all this out," Don suddenly spoke, frustrated, shrugging aggressively, "I mean they know who in the P.D. has kids," he began to tick off the points with his fingers as he listed them, "They know where to snatch the kids from, and just how much they can push the P.D. and get away with it. They don't kill any of the kids, and they send photos of the kids with newspapers everyday to let the P.D. know they're alive and yet were unable to trace where the photos are coming from, whose developing them, where they are being sent from…. these guys are organized and efficient." Don ran a hand through his hair, effectively messing it up more than straightening it out.
"At least they don't have any kids in their possession right now." Megan pointed out.
"Yeah, well unless we figure this out pretty quick, there's going to be another kidnapped kid—these guys are too good to leave themselves without a shield for very long." Megan suddenly snatched the folder from the older agent's unsuspecting hands startling him, and grinned at a slightly bewildered Don.
"Enough about the case for right now, we've been discussing it to death all day and we will again tomorrow—now tell me…how are getting along at home now that you have officially achieved the title 'daddy'?" Don snorted as Megan did air quotes, and relaxed, leaning back in his chair.
"I'm doing just fine," He said with an authoritative air and then lapsed into a light chuckle as Reeves gave him an amused, yet penetrating glare, "Actually, dad was beginning to drive me nuts so I sent him on cruise with a new 'friend' who he met at one of his consulting gigs."
"Oh, a 'friend'?" Megan's eyebrows raised and Don nodded, wagging his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner.
"Yeah, so far it's going better than some of his other attempts at relationships."
"Attempts? That's not very charitable."
"He cooked duck for a woman who had ducks for pets."
"Well, look who's talking, Mr. Relationship himself." Megan's voice oozed sarcasm as she leaned forward enunciating her words. Don leaned backing his chair clutching his chest in mock pain.
"Oh, that hurts."
"Uh-huh, yeah…" They laughed companionably.
"In all seriousness," Don raised a hand up as they regained their composure, "Dad is doing really great, I just needed a break form him for awhile." He pause reflectively, cocking his head slightly to the side as he thought of something, "Charlie has been great too, he really had to get used to not leaving his stuff lying around—Nixie isn't the sort of kid you can chide for moving stuff around—she's just trying to help and she cries pretty easy, especially when Charlie gets annoyed at her. He can't help himself and his frustration just comes right through no matter how nice he tries to be."
"That really doesn't surprise me." Megan nodded, understandingly.
"I didn't think it would, you being the psychologist and all that." Reeves chuckled but decided to let the sarcasm of the comment slide without retort as Don began to shuffle papers around on his desk, deciding what to take home and what to leave.
"Heading home?"
"Yeah," He glanced at his watch, "Charlie and I were going to make a team effort to come up with a nice dinner tonight and I said I'd be home around seven thirty—its about a quarter after now, so I should be going pretty quick here."
"Well maybe this weekend I'll stop by, that is if you still want me to talk to Phoenix about her nightmares?" Don's head popped up from the file he'd been glancing over.
"Yeah," He spoke, his voice only slightly betraying the deep concern he had, "Yeah that would be great." He nodded decisively as Megan nodded in return and gently squeezed his shoulder as she walked away.
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"Hey Lucy! I'm Home!" Don called out into the house with his best 'Ricky' voice and was greeted by a small hurtling mass of child, who suddenly collided with the agent's side.
"Daddy!" She hugged him and then gave him a reproachful look, "You're late."
"I know sweetie, traffic was terrible." He bent down, scooped her up in his arms, and carried her to the kitchen. Charlie was rummaging through the cupboards as his older brother entered the room.
"You're late!" The math professor commented over his shoulder.
"So I've heard…" Don trailed off, and set his daughter down in a nearby chair, removed his coat, and began to help his younger brother sort through their 'supplies.' It wasn't long before the amiable banter drove all of the agent's worries from the day away.
The feeling lasted all through dinner and all through evening right up to when Don tucked his daughter in bed, kissing her goodnight. Just seconds after the FBI agents' head hit his pillow he began to drift off, and finally before succumbing to slumber, it occurred to him that everything was as it should be.
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Special Agent Don Eppes didn't know what had woken him, but he knew that whatever it was, it wasn't good. His nerves felt strained and his heart was pumping furiously; he couldn't have said why or how, but he knew that something was certainly and inalienably wrong in the house. He strained his ears in the impenetrable darkness, listening for any clue as to what was awry. His instincts were on full alert. He carefully eased out of bed and took his sidearm from the nightstand beside his bed. He made his way out of the door, down the stairs, and down the hall making as little noise as possible. His heart was thundering in his ears, fear clutching at his chest. He knew that something had woken him; that something was not right. His greatest fear, the thought that kept repeating in his brain, was that something had happened to his daughter. He came up to her bedroom door, slowly easing it open.
"Nixie?" He whispered into the enfolding blackness. Don's mind barely registered the fact that his daughter's nightlight was off and that she wasn't in her bed when he felt the dark form of someone behind him. He whirled to face the intruder but not soon enough. The butt of the gun slammed into the side of Don's head, an exploding pain that quickly pulled the agent into unconsciousness before he even hit the floor.
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"Don!"
The agent groaned, his head encompassed by pain.
"Don!" His younger brother shook his shoulder again, worry and fear evident in his trembling voice.
"Charlie?" Don suddenly sat upright, and although the action made him dizzy, he stood up, using his brother's arm for support. "Where's Nixie?" Don voice held the panic that was splayed across the math professor's face.
"She's not here! Don, what happened? You had your gun…." Charlie's face grew more distraught as his older brother nearly collapsed as an indescribable internal pain flashed across his features.
"Oh god, they took her…" He faced his brother, wave after wave of horror, disbelief and fear passing over his features faster than a roller coaster ride. "I heard a noise…something woke me and it felt wrong and I came down here with my gun, just in case—I figured it was my nerves or something, that I was being paranoid! I checked her bed but she wasn't there and then they were behind me…" Don sat heavily on the floor, his brother sat next to him, his hands still firmly griping the agents' arm.
"I need to call Reeves…" Don mumbled after a moment of stunned silence, "I hope I'm wrong but his might have to do with a case…" The guilt saturated the older man's voice and Charlie stopped him as he began to head for the phone.
"Don, this isn't your fault ok?' Charlie couldn't explain it; he just knew he had to say it. His brother's face contorted in grief so severe it made the math professor's heart ache. The agent didn't say a word; he just went for the phone.
Just before his hand touched it, the phone rang as if with some supernatural knowledge.
Don hesitated then answered, trying his best to keep his voice level as Charlie stood to the side, anxiously fidgeting.
"Hello?"
"Ahh, may I assume that I have the pleasure of addressing Agent Eppes?" The voice was deep and electronically altered. Don's heart began to crash in his chest as if it was attempting to break free of its cage of muscle and bone.
"This is Agent Eppes." He gave his brother a meaningful look, and Charlie's eyes grew wide before he raced out the room in search of his cell phone.
"I believe I have something that belongs to you."
(Nixie ran with ease and grace, her face turned up towards the afternoon sun.)
"My daughter…you have her…." Don's voice was wavering now, and he was helpless to stop it.
(Nixie's hair flew around in a tangle as the car radio blasted some tune, the windows wide open and her head bobbing to the beat.)
"You can tell all the people you want but it isn't going to help you any; just remember that if any more investigation is done into our…. business…that unpleasant things will happen to your daughter." He felt himself being washed away in a blank wave, a lump rising painfully in his throat.
(Nixie stood soaking wet, proudly displaying the ensnared fish to father, grinningly wildly.)
"No, please don't hurt her…"
(Nixie's face eased into calm as her father played the piano for her once again, gently serenading her into the sleep that was often chased away by bad memories.)
"We won't as long as you do as we say…"
(Nixie's uncertain tears trailed down her slumbering face as she dreamt of things that he knew she'd rather forget.)
"She doesn't have anything to do with this—just leave her alone."
(Nixie's look of utter terror as the man at the gas station tried to carry her away and how her little arms squeezed around his neck in utter relief once it was over.)
"I'm afraid we can't do that, Agent Eppes." Don could hear the distant and mournful wail of sirens in the distance and he knew that Charlie had called Reeves or the police or somebody….
(Nixie's sweet giggles of joy filled the air as he and his brother danced her around the room, not caring how silly they looked.)
"Don't hurt her…" Don pleaded once more, his voice thick with emotion.
(Nixie shook his shoulder in the darkness of his bedroom, waking him up like she promised to, her voice trembling in the night as he took her reassuringly into his arms.)
"I'm afraid that's all I have to say for now. I will be calling you back. Goodbye Agent Eppes."
(Nixie slurped the kool-aid noisily, bestowing a random cherry grin to her father and uncle.)
"No!" The agent cried out as he heard the line go dead.
(Nixie leaned forward and hugged her father tightly and whispered the words 'I love you' for the first time, and alone in his room he cried from the sheer power those words contained and what it had meant to him.)
"They have her…she's gone…" Don murmured, dropping the phone as the dial tone screeched into the air.
He felt Charlie grab onto his shoulder but he didn't really feel it.
He saw Agents Reeves, Sinclair and Granger come in through the front door followed by the EMTs, and others, but he didn't really see them.
He heard them ask questions, but he wasn't really listening.
He was alone, drowning in an ocean of tears, unable to break free past the thought that his daughter, the sweet child that he now knew he loved more than anything else in all the world, was now gone, forcibly torn from his life just as quickly as she had arrived.
He was drowning, and he was alone…
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A/N: Ok, so I imagine you could see that coming from a mile away, but hey, I figure that since there's so many Don and Charlie kidnapped fics that this would be new take on an old idea. Or, I could admit the harsh truth that this is just what I felt like writing : - ) HA! Seriously, please review, I'm not too sure when I'll be able to get the next chapter up—I'll try to have it up tomorrow but it may not be posted 'til after the weekend. Just thought I'd give you a heads up!