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Unavoidable Truths
folder
M through R › NUMB3RS
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
6,584
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › NUMB3RS
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
6,584
Reviews:
19
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own NUMB3RS, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part Two
Part Two
As he sat in his darkened apartment, Don picked up his fourth bottle of beer since he'd arrived home. He didn't want to think about this newest development with Charlie and was therefore trying to drink himself into oblivion, if only for a little while. He'd do almost anything to block out the pain and unnaturalness of being in love with a relative. It was so wrong, just so inherently wrong. Don felt like he needed to scrub his brain clean and let the water wash away the taint. He knew he loved his brother, that they had been getting closer and closer through their shared work and even outside of that. This however, this new feeling was totally alien to him. Don had always lusted first, and then tried for an emotional tie between himself and whoever had his current interest. Sometimes it worked for a while, but then Don would get this itch under his skin and a sense of hesitation in his mind and he would be gone.
"Maybe I'm just looking for shadows where there aren't any. What do I know about love, really. Yeah, what I feel for Charlie, it's just brotherly affection. That's all, nothing more," Don said aloud to the empty living room. He said those words over and over inside his head like a mantra. He figured if he said them often enough, the denial would become truth and he would be able to face his family without flinching.
By his sixth beer, he was passed out on the couch; he had found the peaceful oblivion he had sought.
------------------
In another house minutes away, Charlie sat in the garage facing his blackboard and his current project -- the numbers hardly penetrating his brain as his thoughts swirled around the events of that afternoon.
For once, he couldn't think of a formula to ascribe a pattern of behavior to Don. He didn't have enough data for one and he wasn't sure his brother would be happy if he had tried doing so. What was fine for a case, was not fine to be applied to a sibling.
He wondered if Don would come back to the house in the morning for their weekly Sunday brunch. From the way Don had left, he could only assume not.
Charlie drained his glass of water and refocused his attention on something he knew he would eventually solve, the math behind the functions of the brain.
------------------
Don woke with a groan and stiffly pushed himself upright into a sitting position. He hated himself when he did this -- drink to excess and spend the evening sleeping on the couch. He always woke up in pain all over. He wasn't getting any younger and the hazards of his job were adding to the toll.
With a flick on his wrist, he looked at his watch and realized it was early morning still. He debated about going over to his brother's for brunch, still having a lingering doubt about what he was feeling. However, he knew that he had to take the situation in hand and face his demon. Plus, he knew that if he didn't show, Charlie would haunt his steps doggedly determined to find out what was wrong and Don couldn't allow that to happen. So it was best if he headed things off and put Charlie at ease after his odd behavior yesterday.
Don got up from the couch, headed for the kitchen and got a glass of water and some aspirin, then started his normal routine for the morning -- shower, shave and take a moment to read the newspaper he knew would be sitting outside his apartment door.
The shower was his usual quick scrub, instead of the thirty minute relaxing affair where he could fantasize about his latest interest and pleasure his body. His lurking fear made the shower tense and vexing.
Don stepped out of the tub and reached for a tower. While he briskly rubbed himself dry, he looked in the mirror at his reflection. Pain visibly lingered between his eyes by the furrow of his brow, and his rough night and turbulent thoughts were there for all to see in the dark bruises hugging the bottom of his eyes.
Don sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He decided to forego the shave as he noticed the tremor in his hands and went to the bedroom to get dressed. Don pulled out a clean pair of faded, worn jeans that fit perfectly and a dark blue t-shirt, along with a pair of white boxer briefs and socks.
He entered the kitchen after having finished dressing and got out a canister of coffee from the fridge. He measured out his usual two scoops that would make two large mugs of pure Kona coffee. Once the maker was set to drip, Don retrieved his Sunday edition paper from the apartment hallway.
By the time he had finished his weekend morning ritual and finished reading the paper, as well as drinking both mugs of coffee, Don had made up his mind to go back to the Eppes' family household and have brunch with his dad and brother. He could face them, for his love for his brother was filial and nothing more.
------------------
Charlie spent the majority of the night in the garage working his numbers. By the time his mind shut down and forced him to sleep, his hands were coated in chalk, and smudges were located in various places around the rest of his body. He collapsed onto the run-down couch and was asleep within seconds of his head touching the cushion.
As strands of light crept into the garage, Charlie jerked awake with a gasp. The lingering remnants of the dream he'd had were of Don being pursued by a criminal and he had been caught in the crossfire. Both he and his brother had been wounded.
He'd never had a dream that was so vivid and real, and that scared him a little. Unlike the dream where his mom had visited, this one felt almost like a premonition. Charlie knew that if he tried to explain the dream to his dad and his brother, they would just say that it was the stress of working so closely with Don and the FBI; that he was projecting his worries subconsciously.
With a shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders, Charlie let go of the dream and his concerns and refocused on the day ahead and Don's behavior of yesterday. He hoped that whatever was bothering his older brother would be resolved soon. Charlie looked down at his watch and noticed the time; brush was only an hour and some away and he desperately needed a shower as he noticed all the chalk that coated his hands and probably dusted his hair.
With a push and a sigh, Charlie left the couch and he heard it groan under the strain. As he entered the house and called out to his dad, he realized how quiet the house was. There wasn't any sound of paper crinkling or a shower running, so Charlie assumed that his dad had gone out to get the bagels and cream cheese to go with their brunch. He headed straight for the shower off the upstairs hallway and stripped out of his dusty clothes and threw them into the dirty laundry hamper. The water for his shower took forever to heat up and he swore to write a reminder to himself once school was out for the semester to get a new hot water furnace put in.
Once the temperature was perfect, Charlie stepped in and with a long drawn out sigh of pleasure, let the water cascade over him and wash away the dirt and with it, the stresses of the last twenty-four hours. Whatever came of Don's attitude and weird behavior, they'd tackle it as a family, if needs be.
~TBC~
As he sat in his darkened apartment, Don picked up his fourth bottle of beer since he'd arrived home. He didn't want to think about this newest development with Charlie and was therefore trying to drink himself into oblivion, if only for a little while. He'd do almost anything to block out the pain and unnaturalness of being in love with a relative. It was so wrong, just so inherently wrong. Don felt like he needed to scrub his brain clean and let the water wash away the taint. He knew he loved his brother, that they had been getting closer and closer through their shared work and even outside of that. This however, this new feeling was totally alien to him. Don had always lusted first, and then tried for an emotional tie between himself and whoever had his current interest. Sometimes it worked for a while, but then Don would get this itch under his skin and a sense of hesitation in his mind and he would be gone.
"Maybe I'm just looking for shadows where there aren't any. What do I know about love, really. Yeah, what I feel for Charlie, it's just brotherly affection. That's all, nothing more," Don said aloud to the empty living room. He said those words over and over inside his head like a mantra. He figured if he said them often enough, the denial would become truth and he would be able to face his family without flinching.
By his sixth beer, he was passed out on the couch; he had found the peaceful oblivion he had sought.
------------------
In another house minutes away, Charlie sat in the garage facing his blackboard and his current project -- the numbers hardly penetrating his brain as his thoughts swirled around the events of that afternoon.
For once, he couldn't think of a formula to ascribe a pattern of behavior to Don. He didn't have enough data for one and he wasn't sure his brother would be happy if he had tried doing so. What was fine for a case, was not fine to be applied to a sibling.
He wondered if Don would come back to the house in the morning for their weekly Sunday brunch. From the way Don had left, he could only assume not.
Charlie drained his glass of water and refocused his attention on something he knew he would eventually solve, the math behind the functions of the brain.
------------------
Don woke with a groan and stiffly pushed himself upright into a sitting position. He hated himself when he did this -- drink to excess and spend the evening sleeping on the couch. He always woke up in pain all over. He wasn't getting any younger and the hazards of his job were adding to the toll.
With a flick on his wrist, he looked at his watch and realized it was early morning still. He debated about going over to his brother's for brunch, still having a lingering doubt about what he was feeling. However, he knew that he had to take the situation in hand and face his demon. Plus, he knew that if he didn't show, Charlie would haunt his steps doggedly determined to find out what was wrong and Don couldn't allow that to happen. So it was best if he headed things off and put Charlie at ease after his odd behavior yesterday.
Don got up from the couch, headed for the kitchen and got a glass of water and some aspirin, then started his normal routine for the morning -- shower, shave and take a moment to read the newspaper he knew would be sitting outside his apartment door.
The shower was his usual quick scrub, instead of the thirty minute relaxing affair where he could fantasize about his latest interest and pleasure his body. His lurking fear made the shower tense and vexing.
Don stepped out of the tub and reached for a tower. While he briskly rubbed himself dry, he looked in the mirror at his reflection. Pain visibly lingered between his eyes by the furrow of his brow, and his rough night and turbulent thoughts were there for all to see in the dark bruises hugging the bottom of his eyes.
Don sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He decided to forego the shave as he noticed the tremor in his hands and went to the bedroom to get dressed. Don pulled out a clean pair of faded, worn jeans that fit perfectly and a dark blue t-shirt, along with a pair of white boxer briefs and socks.
He entered the kitchen after having finished dressing and got out a canister of coffee from the fridge. He measured out his usual two scoops that would make two large mugs of pure Kona coffee. Once the maker was set to drip, Don retrieved his Sunday edition paper from the apartment hallway.
By the time he had finished his weekend morning ritual and finished reading the paper, as well as drinking both mugs of coffee, Don had made up his mind to go back to the Eppes' family household and have brunch with his dad and brother. He could face them, for his love for his brother was filial and nothing more.
------------------
Charlie spent the majority of the night in the garage working his numbers. By the time his mind shut down and forced him to sleep, his hands were coated in chalk, and smudges were located in various places around the rest of his body. He collapsed onto the run-down couch and was asleep within seconds of his head touching the cushion.
As strands of light crept into the garage, Charlie jerked awake with a gasp. The lingering remnants of the dream he'd had were of Don being pursued by a criminal and he had been caught in the crossfire. Both he and his brother had been wounded.
He'd never had a dream that was so vivid and real, and that scared him a little. Unlike the dream where his mom had visited, this one felt almost like a premonition. Charlie knew that if he tried to explain the dream to his dad and his brother, they would just say that it was the stress of working so closely with Don and the FBI; that he was projecting his worries subconsciously.
With a shake of his head and a roll of his shoulders, Charlie let go of the dream and his concerns and refocused on the day ahead and Don's behavior of yesterday. He hoped that whatever was bothering his older brother would be resolved soon. Charlie looked down at his watch and noticed the time; brush was only an hour and some away and he desperately needed a shower as he noticed all the chalk that coated his hands and probably dusted his hair.
With a push and a sigh, Charlie left the couch and he heard it groan under the strain. As he entered the house and called out to his dad, he realized how quiet the house was. There wasn't any sound of paper crinkling or a shower running, so Charlie assumed that his dad had gone out to get the bagels and cream cheese to go with their brunch. He headed straight for the shower off the upstairs hallway and stripped out of his dusty clothes and threw them into the dirty laundry hamper. The water for his shower took forever to heat up and he swore to write a reminder to himself once school was out for the semester to get a new hot water furnace put in.
Once the temperature was perfect, Charlie stepped in and with a long drawn out sigh of pleasure, let the water cascade over him and wash away the dirt and with it, the stresses of the last twenty-four hours. Whatever came of Don's attitude and weird behavior, they'd tackle it as a family, if needs be.
~TBC~