V for Volatile
Author's note: I'm sorry about the big gap between updates. They've stopped showing Numb3rs where I live (Sydney) so I've had to re-watch my taped episode for inspiration. Although once I started writing I couldn't stop, so this chapter is about twice as long as the previous ones. Enjoy.
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"Don, please open the door. Don. I'm sorry for whatever I did. I'll never do it again. Don. Don, open the door. Pleeaasse."
Don listened as Charlie thumped on the door a few more times and then there was silence. Don knew the silence would last for about ten minutes before the begging and banging would start again. One good thing about Charlie was that he was predictable. Charlie liked patterns.
This particular pattern had been going on for days. Don knew it was his fault. Knew that with one word the whole thing would be over. But as annoying as Charlie was, Don wasn't ready to let it go just yet. So he turned up his music and laid back on the bed, while just outside Charlie leaned up against his brother's door, silently begging him to open it.
It had started three months ago, when Charlie started attending the same high school as Don, even though Charlie was only ten and Don was five years older. Don had tried to argue. He didn't care if Charlie went to high school, but he couldn't see why he had to go to the same one as him. His mum explained that it was hard for Charlie to start high school so young and having Don around would help him.
So Don went back to school and Charlie went with him. They walked together, Charlie talking the whole way. Asking Don questions about what high school was like. Don answering with a simple 'yes' or 'no' or even just a grunt. At first Charlie had tried to hold Don's hand but Don quickly put an end to that.
"Kids who go to high school don't hold hands." He spat, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Charlie nodded silently and forced himself to remember that. He had so much to learn. Everyone was going to be grown up and he didn't want to be seen as a baby. He was glad Don was with him. Don would show him round and help him when he got lost. Don would protect him. Charlie was glad he had a big brother.
Don, however, had different ideas, dumping Charlie at the front gates he ran off with a group of boys from his baseball team. His last words to his brother, "Meet me back here after school. Don't be late." And with that ten year old Charlie was left alone on his first day of high school. Luckily he was able to find a teacher to help him and somehow managed to make it through the day and be back to meet Don almost on time. They walked home in silence.
The next few days proceeded in the same fashion, until poor Charlie couldn't take it anymore and finally told is mum the truth. Everyday he would tell her that school was great and that everyone was really nice to him, when in reality he dreaded going to school. Dreaded the looks he would get from the other teenagers. Dreaded Don's hostile silence. Charlie told her all this while sobbing quietly. Margaret wanted to call the school but Charlie begged her not to. Although he couldn't stop her from giving Don an earful.
From that day on Don walked Charlie to his locker and then to his first class. He would even pop up every now and then to make sure Charlie was okay. Make sure that he got his lunch and that no one was picking on him.
To any outsider it would have seemed like a perfect relationship but Charlie knew better. He knew Don hated having to look after him. Don didn't even have to say anything. In fact it was what Don didn't say that tipped Charlie off the most. Don was polite but never said anything really nice, Never congratulated Charlie when he did well on a test. Never called him 'Buddy'. They never had any physical contact at school. Charlie wasn't allowed to hug Don. Don never messed with Charlie's hair or squeezed his shoulder affectionately.
In the beginning Charlie could live with it because it was only when they were at school. At home their relationship seemed the same as always. But as the weeks went on Charlie began to notice Don's behaviour crossing over to when they were at home as well. He stopped paying attention to Charlie, started spending more time in is room or at his friend's place. Then Don stopped talking to him.
That's how Charlie ended up sitting outside Don's room begging to be let in. Don knew it wasn't fair. He was punishing Charlie for something that he had no control over. Charlie hadn't asked to be a genius. But Don was angry, growing angrier everyday and if he didn't direct it at someone he felt like he would burst.
Charlie had invaded his world and no one seemed to care. They were too busy worrying about Charlie. Well if he was such a baby then why wasn't he at baby school? Don only had two things over Charlie: baseball and being older. And if Charlie was at the same school as he was, in the same year, then what was the point of being older? It wasn't fair.
Don hadn't even realised he was acting differently but as Charlie became more and more desperate, Don began to realise something. He had a sort of power over Charlie. Charlie needed Don. Needed his praise and approval, and the more Don refused to give it, the more he needed it. As the weeks went on Don realised that he wanted Charlie to needed him. He needed Charlie to need him. He liked keeping Charlie on a string, knowing that just one word of encouragement, one pat on the head, would make Charlie's day. Make Charlie's week.
So Don kept him waiting. And Charlie's need grew. It got to the point where Charlie would have loved Don to even yell at him. To give him some kind of recognition. Some sign that he still mattered. As the stand-off continued the tension in the house grew until it got to the point where it felt like it would explode. And then one day it stopped. Like a faulty grenade the explosion never came.
One day instead of Charlie being stationed outside Don's door as usual he shut himself away in the garage and didn't come out. At first Don thought it might just be a ploy. A way of getting him to come out of his room. But as the days went on nothing changed. Charlie spent more and more time out in the garage and when he was finally forced back into the house, Don could tell he wasn't really there. He would babble about equations and ratios and other things Don couldn't understand. He got clumsy, well clumsier than usual. Knocking things over as he raced back out to the garage, mumbling about breakthroughs. He would barely touch the food put in front of him and seemed to be in his own little world, untouched by the real world around him.
After a while he even stopped coming in to eat. At first Alan refused to let Margaret take food out to him, saying they weren't going to upset the family routine for him. But after his already slight son started losing weight he relented and Margaret was allowed to take him his dinner. Although Don knew that his mum had been sneaking Charlie food for days.
Don knew he should be happy that his little brother wasn't trying to annoy him anymore but with Charlie gone his need for Don was also gone. And after a while he even started to worry about Charlie. He knew his parents were worried too. Margaret wanted to take him to see someone.
"What he's doing isn't normal."
"This is Charlie we're talking about." Alan wasn't as worried as Margaret, he just assumed it was a phase and Charlie would get over it sooner or later. Although it seemed like it was going to be later as Charlie asked for more blackboard and Margaret had to start buying chalk in bulk.
The garage, truly Charlie's domain now, was filled with blackboards. They covered the walls up to the ceiling. They were even on the ceiling. A ladder positioned in the middle of the room to help Charlie reach those out of his ten year old grasp. As he had run out of room Charlie had even started to write on the floor, leaving only a narrow walkway. That was what Alan saw as he went to call in his son for dinner. It was the last straw for him. He knew it was important to nurture Charlie but this was going to far.
Dragging a protesting Charlie out by his arm, Alan put his foot down. Pulling out a chair he forced Charlie to sit.
"You're eating with the rest of us."
"No." Charlie was up and across the room before Alan could stop him.
Margaret and Don emerged from the kitchen. Don watching the confrontation with awe. He could tell Alan was in one of his moods and when Alan was in one of his moods you kept your mouth shut and did what he said. More amazing to Don was that he was angry at Charlie. He had only ever seen his dad angry at him. He knew that Alan found Charlie trying at times but he had never even raised his voice to his younger son. And yet there the two of them stood. Face to face in confrontation. Both brimming with anger and righteousness. Both seemingly ready to fight to the death. Don had to admire Charlie for his bravery. He also knew Charlie was going to get his arse kicked.
"Go up to your room."
"No." Charlie stood his ground. He had to make his dad see that he was serious. If he didn't he'd be crushed like a bug. Anyway if was about time his dad treated him like a grown up. Even though Alan and Don fought all the time Charlie knew there was mutual respect between them. Charlie wanted that too. Wanted his dad to see that the numbers were more than just ideas in his head. They were real things and they were important.
"Go up to your room now or you're grounded."
Charlie didn't move. Didn't say a word. Margaret could see that it was only going to end in tears, and took the initiative.
"Why don't we all sit down and eat? Don, would you get the plates? Charlie, you can help him. Alan."
The last word was a warning and as inviting as Margaret's instructions seemed, no one moved. Don didn't know what anyone else was thinking but he was afraid that if he made any movement it would startle Alan and he would come after him.
"Alan." Margaret tried again.
"Charlie..." Alan started but Charlie was gone. Back out into the garage.
Don took the moment of confusion to dart back into the kitchen, out of the line of fire. He couldn't hear the exact conversation his parents had but he could tell that it consisted mainly of Margaret trying to stop Alan from going out and killing Charlie. Or at least that's what Don imagined.
"Oh man, Charlie's so dead." He chuckled. He couldn't help feeling slightly elated that Charlie finally knew what it was like to feel Alan's wrath.
After hearing a door slam, Don ventured back out to find Margaret staring helplessly at the front door.
"Where's dad?"
"Your father's gone for a walk."
Don could tell his mum was upset. He walked over to her but didn't know what to do. Should he hug her, or hold her hand, or just pat her shoulder? Sensing her son's discomfort Margaret made an effort to smile and put her hand up to brush a stray hair from Don's face.
"Can you take Charlie his dinner?"
Don nodded. He'd do anything to be out of the awkward situation.
The week progressed as normal. Well as normal as it could be and friday rolled around. On every second friday Margaret and Alan would go out together on a date. They would go to a nice restaurant or see a movie. It was a tradition. On this particular friday Margaret didn't want to go. Charlie's 'condition' seemed to be worse than ever and she was worried about leaving him alone. Alan pointed out that it was just one night and Don would be there too.
"Anyway the worst thing that can happen is that we find him exactly how we left him."
Margaret reluctantly agreed, making Don promise to at least try to get Charlie to eat something while they were out. Don was looking forward to having the house to himself. His parents had only started leaving him in charge after he turned fifteen. Because of Margaret's worry, Alan had offered to get a baby-sitter but Don had protested noisily. Promising to take care of Charlie and make sure he didn't do anything crazy. Although secretly Don wonder how he was supposed tell the difference between a normal Charlie and a crazy Charlie.
After his parents left, Don took advantage of the empty house. Quickly looking in on Charlie, he then settled down in front on the TV. By the time he looked up at the clock it was almost eight. Cursing, he rushed into the kitchen and served out two plates of meatloaf. After pouring a glass of juice he took the food out to Charlie.
Like he had suspected Charlie was in pretty much the same position as he had been the last time Don looked. Although now that he got a better look, Don had to laugh. Charlie was covered in chalk. From head to toe covered in a thin layer of white dust. It had turned his red t-shirt a pinkish colour and his black curly hair looked almost grey. He also had big white smudges on his face and his hands were completely white. In a strange, geekish kind of way he looked completely wild.
"Charlie."
He turned like a startled animal when Don called his name. Staring at his older brother with huge brown eyes, Don felt a twinge of concern. Charlie didn't look well. He was pale (although it could have been the chalk) and his face was covered in a layer of sweat even though it wasn't that hot. Beneath his bloodshot eyes, Don could see dark grey smudges. What scared Don the most was that it was only after taking all this in that he realised he was looking at a ten year old. Charlie's behaviour and demeanour over the past weeks had been so grown up that he had forgotten his little brother was still, well, little. He was only a kid and yet he seemed to be going through some kind of nervous breakdown.
"Dinner's ready. Do you want to eat it out here?"
Seeming to realised there was no danger imminent, Charlie shrugged and turned back to his work.
"Hey, why don't you come inside and we can eat in front of the TV. I'm sure there's some kind of game on."
Charlie didn't respond, scurrying over to one corner to write furiously before returning to his original position. Don moved a little closer to his brother, careful not to make any sudden movements. Charlie seemed to forget he was even there. As he got closer Don could see that the hand Charlie was writing with was shaking slightly. And as he moved to see Charlie's face he saw tears in his eyes.
"Charlie..." Don put a hand on Charlie's shoulder, but he scooted away. He turned his back but Don could see he was trying to brush away the tears.
"I'm fine. Just go."
Walking over to where Charlie now stood Don tried again to comfort him. "No, you're not."
Again Charlie ducked away but this time he turned to face Don. "What do you care anyway? You just think I'm annoying."
"Charlie, I don't think you realise how crazy you're acting."
That made Charlie laugh for some reason. "Crazy? You only think it's crazy because you don't understand it. You're too stupid to understand it."
At Charlie's last sentence Don took a step forward involuntarily. There was a vindictiveness in Charlie's voice that he had never heard before.
"You take that back, or..." Don left the threat hanging.
"Or what?" Charlie spat back.
Don realised Charlie wasn't going to go down easily and he knew if they kept going like this one of them was going to get hurt, and it was probably going to be Charlie. So he made an effort to calm down. Charlie's only a kid, he told himself. And he hasn't slept in days. He's obviously a little cranky.
"Okay Charlie, have it your way. I'm going to watch TV, if you need anything just come get me." Turning his back on his brother Don crossed the room, stopping just as he reached the doorway. "I just hope this," he waved towards the chalk scribble, "is as important as you think it is."
Walking out, Don could hear Charlie yelling after him. "It is. It's more important than you or anyone..." his voice fading as Don moved into the house.
Shaking his head, Don couldn't quite believe how unhinged Charlie was. No wonder his parents were worried, Don hadn't realised it was so bad. Maybe he did need to see someone. After spending some time debating whether or not to tell his parents about what had happened, Don tried to get the whole thing out of his head.
About an hour later as Don was starting to nod off, his brain registered a shuffling sound coming from behind him. Sitting up he turned and saw Charlie teetering on the threshold of the lounge room. He was looking at the ground and swaying from side to side. Worried that he was having some kind of episode, Don stood up.
"Charlie, are you okay?"
In the dark Don could just see Charlie shake his head slightly. Well, thought Don, at least he's responsive. Going out on a limb, Don held his arms out. "Charlie, come here."
And Charlie did. Walking slowly, his head still down, he made his way over to Don. Stopping just in front of him, Charlie mumbled something Don couldn't hear.
"What? I can't hear you."
Raising his voice Charlie spoke again. "I'm sorry."
He still wouldn't look at Don and in an attempt to look at his face, Don put his hand under Charlie's chin and lifted his head. Charlie was crying. His eyes were red, raw with tears and exhaustion. Making sure Charlie was looking into his eyes, Don spoke.
"It's okay. I'm not angry. I guess we're all just a little fed up really." As Charlie tried to drop his head again Don kept him in place. "I'm sorry too. For being such an idiot about school. It wasn't very fair."
Charlie smiled slightly at that, and taking him by the shoulder Don gently pushed Charlie down to sit on the couch, setting himself next to him. Wrapping an arm around his small brother Don held Charlie close.
Sniffling slightly Charlie spoke. "I didn't mean what I said. It's not more important."
"I know. But you have to be careful what you say. If you said that kind of stuff to mum, she'd be really upset. It's okay with me because I know you don't mean it."
Charlie looked up at Don, "How do you know?"
Don smiled. "It's a brother thing."
Charlie smiled too and let his head drop to Don's shoulder. Don couldn't believe how tiny Charlie seemed, but then he was only ten. Don thought it was strange that he had to keep reminding himself of his brother's tender age. He guessed having to interact with older people all the time had taught Charlie ways of behaving that were far beyond his age. And because of his intelligent people tended to treat Charlie like a grown up when really he was only a child.
"You don't have to be a grown up you know. Just because other people treat you like one, it doesn't mean you can't be a kid sometimes. If you want to."
Charlie gave Don a curious look before burying his head once more in Don's shoulder. "They treat you like a grown up."
Don laughed. "That's because I am a grown up."
"You're only fifteen."
"And you're only ten."
Charlie punched playfully at Don's leg, and Don pretended to wince in pain.
"Ow, hey. The point is there's lots of time to be grown up but you're only a kid for a short time."
Charlie's reply was muffled by Don's shirt as he began to relax again. "But you're a grown up."
Don looked down at his brother's form. "So?"
"So I wanna be like you."
Don had to take a deep breath at that. He always suspected Charlie idolised him. It's what little brothers did. But to hear it out loud was something else. He was filled with a warm feeling, and struggled to think of something to say. Instead he settled for wrapping his arm around a increasingly sleepy Charlie, and messing gently with his hair. Don smiled as he heard Charlie sigh happily. After a few moments of silence Charlie spoke.
"Can I have some coffee?"
Don was pulled out of his happy daze. "What? No. Coffee's the last thing you need right now." Charlie stretched his legs out before curling them against Don's. Don smiled. "Anyway, you can't have coffee until you're a grown up. And you are definitely not a grown up." Charlie didn't hear the end of Don's sentence, he had fallen asleep, but Don made a note to tell him later.