Nixie
Disclaimer: Numb3rs is SO not mine…. so sad….
A/N 1: Ok, first off, SORRY! This took me forever to write! SOO HARD! I ran whack thump into a brick wall on this chapter and I didn't think I was ever going to get it written. I was out of commission for a week due to a bastard cold that caused me to sleep excessively. I'm still recovering…at any rate this was a tricky bit; I'm not sure about the dialogue. If it sucks too badly then let me know and I'll pull it and fix it. As always, official whatchamacallit is all made up. MILD SWEARING. R&R.
A/N 2: Ok this A/N is really pointless so you can skip it if you want. It's not important. Really. It's ok. Further more (for those who are still reading this) I just wanted to rave a little about the "Running Man" episode so if you missed it, skip this part it has spoilers. Really. I'm serious. Stop reading if you don't want to read any spoilers. Now-ish. Ok? Ok. I just wanted to say that episode rocked! As you all well know, I had a chapter with Don playing the piano, so when in Running Man they found out Margaret was writing music, I was like 'ahhhhh! Someone better play the piano!' and then later when Don came in at the end and his mom's book of compositions was sitting on the table and he picked it up I was like 'ahhhh! Don better play the piano!' and then finally it was 'yeeeess! Don is playing the piano!' So can I just say that the Running Man is now my favorite episode? So, SO awesome! Ok I'm done now. I mean it. Really.
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Chapter Eighteen: Extreme Ways (Moby)
Charlie wasn't entirely sure what was going on.
He'd woken up this morning to the blaring screech of his alarm clock and had groggily realized that his brother was no longer in the house. They had stayed up late in the wake of Phoenix's kidnapping, and Charlie had slept soundly, both physically and emotionally exhausted and he was relatively certain his brother had as well. At least that's what he thought. Logically, Don should have still been sleeping, and the fact that he wasn't caused the young professor to wake up rather abruptly as worry pervaded into his being. And so, when he got a phone call five minutes later from Megan telling him to get his ass over to the office as soon as possible, and that yes Don was there—precisely why Charlie was needed, he moved quickly.
So here he was.
The lean math professor quickly lost patience waiting for the elevator, and went up all the many flights of stairs, skipping every other one. When he got to the appropriate floor he opened the door, walked into the office and was greeted by an… interesting …scene.
"God dammit! Just let me work on the damn case!"
"Don, you aren't allowed and you know that!" David Sinclair was standing toe to toe with Charlie's brother while Megan stood off to the side looking concerned.
"I can help dammit!" Don yelled furiously, running his hand through his hair aggressively.
"What's going on?" Charlie asked as he jogged up to the agents. His older brother whirled around to face him, his eyes registering surprise before he angrily turned towards Megan.
"What the hell! You called my brother Reeves? What, do you think I can't handle the situation!"
"You aren't handling anything right now Don," the psychologist spoke soothingly, "Your daughter has been missing ten hours and you are in no shape to be here, much less work on the case."
"I'd be just fine if you would just let me help! I'm not asking to run the show, I just want to help dammit!"
Megan Reeves watched the older agent with a weary eye as he continued to rant and argue with Sinclair as his younger brother watched with wide eyes, obviously alarmed. Don's body language as well as his state of mind was beginning to really concern the female agent. His body practically titled back and forth on its own with unmasked anger as if he were teetering on the edge of some dark precipice and she could literally see each time the muscles in his body tightened. He was a ticking time bomb of misplaced rage and it was just a matter of time before he blew.
"Don!" Colby Granger walked up, as Sinclair was yelling, "Go home! You aren't going to do any good here!" David pointed towards the door with authority that Megan wasn't sure he felt and then—She tried to stop him, she really did but the time bomb blew and there was nothing she could do.
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Charlie watched with something akin to horror as he watched his brother lurch forward and take a swing at his fellow agent, hitting him squarely in the jaw. Both Charlie and Colby leapt towards the irate agent as David jumped up from the floor almost before he hit it. All three of them tried to restrain the other agent but he was a rampaging bull and they were just annoying flies. The four men were a tangle of limbs as the three of them tried to stop the fourth. Charlie felt himself jerk backward in surprise as he felt the a sudden swift rush of air on his face as his brother's flailing fist barely failed to make contact with the younger man's cheekbone.
As abruptly as the sudden chaos began it ended. Don broke free of the entangling arms with a sharp jerk and roughly batted away the other restraining arms as he whirled around and stormed away. He didn't bother with the elevator as he breezed past it, ignoring the concerned shouts of his name from behind him. He yanked the door to the stairwell open with such force that it crashed into the wall and slammed shut behind him as he began to head down the stairs.
The agent had barely left his sight before Charlie was running. He bolted to the stairs, determined to catch up with his brother. He failed to see how Megan stopped Colby and David from following, the female agent realizing perhaps that it was up to Charlie now to calm the older man.
Charlie raced down the stairs, barely using the handrail and jumping over the last few steps to each flight, nearly colliding with the wall with every leap, his breathing was rapid and after just a few flights, his muscles began to burn; still he practically flew down the stairwell.
"Don!" He called down. He could hear his brother storming down the staircase with at least as much speed as his younger brother, but sure enough Charlie shaved the distance with his frantic leaps over many of the steps and finally caught up with Don, grabbing onto his arm, preventing him from moving any further.
The agent reeled back onto the landing, simultaneously pulling his arm from his brother's grasp while pushing him away. Don paced liked a caged animal and shot his brother a furious glare.
"What?" He snapped angrily and Charlie fumbled for what to say.
"Don…. uh…I…uh…." The professor searched his mind frantically. He hadn't thought about what he was going to say. He closed his eyes and blocked out the image of his belligerent brother and allowed his instincts to answer for him. Suddenly he was gripping the older man in a firm bear hug, clutching to him as if he would never let go. Don relaxed for a moment, just a moment and Charlie thought for sure that the battle had been won but in the next instant he was pushed away. He watched with mounting concern as his brother tried to muster up the rage he'd been feeling in the prior moments; the math professor could see the conflicting emotions clearly on the other's face. Then to his surprise, Don staggered back on the landing, his face becoming a helpless motif. The agent leaned back slowly against the wall and sunk to the floor as tears began to run down his face, his hands gesturing aimlessly and hopelessly in the air as he realized the full extent of his actions.
Charlie slid down to his brother's side, and pulled Don into his arms; the other man put up no resistance and allowed himself to be cradled as he sobbed with his inability to fix the nightmare he'd become ensnared in. The professor gently began to rock Don back and forth murmuring comfortingly, stroking his brother's hair desperately trying to help him and nearly crying himself because he didn't know how.
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Megan Reeves was shaken. She had never seen Don lose control like that—ever. It was one of the scariest things she had ever seen in her life. He had been in a blind rage, and she had been helpless; she'd stood frozen like a deer in headlights as the two other agents and Charlie tried to restrain the older agent—she'd just stood there.
She stood now in relative silence with the other two agents as their consultant chased after his wayward brother. She held an icepack to David's face with a shaky hand as he sat on her desk with Colby watching from the chair. None of them spoke.
Megan saw David's eyes move over to the stairs again and turned as she noticed his eyes narrow with wary concern. Don came through the door half supported by his brother, looking absolutely emotionally drained, and his eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed from obvious tears. The three agents watched the approach silently. The two brothers stopped outside the cubicle ignoring the stares of other miscellaneous agents who had seen the action and were already gossiping. The five of them stood in silence for a moment, the brothers facing the agents before Don spoke wearily.
"I'm sorry." He croaked out, as he gently pulled himself away from his brother's supporting arm.
"It's no problem man." Sinclair spoke without hesitation, as he took the icepack from Megan and tossed it onto the nearby desk. "You've got one hell of a right hook, that's for sure." They all cracked into tired grins, understanding that it was all behind them and glad that the situation was resolved.
"I…."Don began suddenly and hesitantly, his eyes beseeching, "I need to work on this case…please…."He forestalled David's headshake, holding up a surprisingly steady hand, "I need to do something…. I need to do something useful or…" He struggled for the words, "…or I think I might just…crash…. please." The older agents' face was pleading and Sinclair hesitated as Megan's heart ached for him—the pain he must be going through….
"Ok Don, But if you lose like that again…even a little bit…" David trailed off as the other agent nodded his head, relief spreading through his features.
"Well then," Colby cut into the momentary quiet with a feral grin, "Let's get started shall we? We have some rat bastard kidnappers to catch…."
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Don felt so lost, so perilously close to the edge—he didn't know what he would do if he hadn't been able to convince Sinclair to let him work on the case. He just didn't know—and the thought scared him. He began to flip through the mass of files that contained possible suspects, trying to narrow the list down and in the unnerving muted quiet, he thought, I'll find you sweetheart—I'll find you and bring you home…even if it's the last thing I ever do, I promise I'll bring you home….
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A/N: Eh. Not sure how much I like this. I might tear it down and try again. Let me know what you think….