Don couldn't sleep. He looked over at the neon numb3rs glaring back at him. 4:17 a.m. He groaned. He knew that there was no point in trying to sleep now because in a few hours he would have to get up. He remembered how earlier his father had begged him to get some rest. Finally he had given in.

He hadn't slept a full night in almost a week. How could he? His mind wouldn't let him. His mind wouldn't stop.

"Like Charlie," he smiled to himself. He'd never thought of himself being much like his younger brother. Maybe he didn't want to be like him. Now he grasped at any similarities longing for a connection.

A wave of anger seized him and he swung his feet over the side of the bed and headed downstairs, carefully trying not to wake his father. Alan Eppes had been through enough.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and paused. He just let the memories flood him.

Him dribbling a basketball across the floor. Him chasing Charlie whom was running from him in terror. Him watching a game with his father. His mother, his beautiful mother comforting him after a hard day. The whole family gathered in the living room laughing at something that was no longer important. The three Eppes men in black suits after his mom's funeral.

He couldn't believe how so many good memories could be associated with so many bad, in one house. He felt pain and comfort being there. Everything was so mixed and bled together.

He planted himself on the couch. He rubbed his hand over the material.

"Yeah, I definitely can't sleep. That's just great. Now what? Jeez I'm talking to myself." He chuckled in the bitterest way. A laugh that would've frightened any of his friends or family had they been there.

Then he couldn't stop laughing he laughed until he cried. Then he cried and cried.

'Am I having a breakdown?' He wondered in between gasping sobs. The tears were hot to his already warm skin.

"I hate you. I hate you," he screamed into the empty room. He prayed he hadn't just woken his father.

Exhaustion swept over him like a blanket and slowly drooped into a lying position on the couch and let his misery lull him to sleep. He knew he would never want to get up in the morning.

After all this was a day that he had always feared in the back of his mind. The day of his little brother's funeral.

Authors Note: Hi guys. This is my first num3rs fic and first television fic. I'm trying to make the crossover from movies to T.V. I really hope you guys like this. I know it's short but it's just a prologue and I know there are about a million and five poor Charlie stories but what can I say I'm a junkie for it. Please R&R. Thanx.