NUMB3RS Drabbles
folder
M through R › NUMB3RS
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
41
Views:
7,868
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › NUMB3RS
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
41
Views:
7,868
Reviews:
7
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.
Tired
Title: Tired
Author: scots_rock
Pairing: Don/Charlie
Fandom: NUMB3RS
Rating: R
Word Count: 147
Warning: Death fic
Disclaimer: Not mine. This is fiction.
Feedback: Awesome
Author's Notes: Charlie’s hand reaches out. Angst. I was in the mood. Again. Stands alone. No spoilers. Inspired by Lamb’s “Gorecki”.
He can see him. He is running towards Charlie, yelling, shouting, his eyes are filled with darkness, big, asking. Charlie smiles. The pain seems to be gone. So tired. He closes his eyes for a moment. A strong breeze passing his face forces him to peek from under his eyelids. Why does he look so sad? Why does he cry? Charlie wants to speak, his lips part but strangely enough no sound comes out. His words vanish into thin air, are swallowed by the noises of police cars, screams and sirens. The street feels warm, not cold anymore, still his eyes are locked with Don’s. Charlie reaches out a hand, he cups Don’s face, touches his brother’s cheek, brushes a thumb over his trembling lips. Red marks on Don’s face. Blurry vision. Exhausted. So tired. Eyelids so heavy. His hand drops to the ground. No words needed.
Author: scots_rock
Pairing: Don/Charlie
Fandom: NUMB3RS
Rating: R
Word Count: 147
Warning: Death fic
Disclaimer: Not mine. This is fiction.
Feedback: Awesome
Author's Notes: Charlie’s hand reaches out. Angst. I was in the mood. Again. Stands alone. No spoilers. Inspired by Lamb’s “Gorecki”.
He can see him. He is running towards Charlie, yelling, shouting, his eyes are filled with darkness, big, asking. Charlie smiles. The pain seems to be gone. So tired. He closes his eyes for a moment. A strong breeze passing his face forces him to peek from under his eyelids. Why does he look so sad? Why does he cry? Charlie wants to speak, his lips part but strangely enough no sound comes out. His words vanish into thin air, are swallowed by the noises of police cars, screams and sirens. The street feels warm, not cold anymore, still his eyes are locked with Don’s. Charlie reaches out a hand, he cups Don’s face, touches his brother’s cheek, brushes a thumb over his trembling lips. Red marks on Don’s face. Blurry vision. Exhausted. So tired. Eyelids so heavy. His hand drops to the ground. No words needed.