A Story Told In Numbers
A Story Told In Numbers
Title: A Story Told In Numbers
Author: Prentice
Rating: PG-13; FRM (Fan Rated Mature)
Fandom: Numb3rs
Warnings: Incest, Mild Sexual Content
Pairing: Don/Charlie
Spoilers: None
Category: Slash, Established Relationship, Character Study
Series: None
Archive: Ask first, please.
Feedback: Is always cherished and appreciated.
Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained here-in are the
property of CBS and its creators. No infringements of these copyrights are
intended, and are being used here without permission. No profit was made and no
harm was done.
Author’s Note: For those who haven’t noticed, I’m extremely fond of using
quotes and song lyrics to inspire me. I even go so far as to copy down and save
the ones that I particularly enjoy. After one such occasion today, when I had no
paper on hand and was forced to use my arm as a notepad…this came to me. I hope
you enjoy it!
Dedicated: To MOTL, for not understanding but accepting anyway.
Summary: It’s a story told in numbers, all over Don’s skin.
“You calm the storms and give me rest
You hold me in your hands, you won’t let me fallYou still my heart and take my breath awayWould you take me in, take me deeper now.” - ‘Everything’ byLifehouse
A Story Told In Numbers “And in the night we’ll wish this never endsWe’ll wish this never ends.” – “I Miss You” by Blink 182It’s the quiet moments that affect Don the most. It’s taken him months, years
even, to realize that one simple fact. It’s taken his younger brother Charlie to
make him realize that one simple fact. Before now, he had always believed that it was the chaotic moments, the
moments when bullets were flying, bodies were falling and victims were
screaming, were what influenced him the most. He believed that, in the moments
where all time seemed to stop and he was forced to see the horrors of the world
up close and personal, it was changing him into a different person; a better
person. A person who could do his job and do it well, with little or no
mistakes; a person who could look into the face of a killer and not be cowed by
the bloodlust and hate; a person that didn’t need anyone to tell him he was
right because he knew it already, deep down where nothing and no one could reach
it. But, he was wrong. Incredibly wrong. Infinitely wrong. Impossibly wrong. It wasn’t those moments that made him into whom he was and who he needed to
be. It was moments like now, here with Charlie, his younger, sweeter, unbearably
avant-garde brother, that made him into the man that saves lives; the man that
can make the hard decisions and not look back to question if he’d done the right
thing. It was moments with Charlie that made him feel young and strong and so
very alive. It was moments with Charlie that made him feel peaceful in a way
that he’s never known before. It was moments like now, with Charlie sitting astride him, inner
thighs rubbing against the outside of his legs as he moves and turns, fingers
smoothing and pressing the fine tipped pen against Don’s skin as he writes
nonsensical numbers all over his brother, that make Don want to sing, to cry, to
thank whoever it is that's been looking out for him for him all these years for
sending him a gift like Charlie. Every single second, every single detail – from
the way that Charlie has the pen cap between his teeth, chewing it in a habit
that’s partly nerves and partly concentration to the way that Don’s hands are on
his brother’s hips, slowly rocking him back and forth or moving up to flutter
softly against his curls – that make his heart pound and his insides feel as
though they’re going to melt.It’s his brother’s nervous tics, the ones that can keep him enthralled for
hours on end; the ones that he finds so mundane, so everyday, so fascinating to
the point of obsession that make the quiet moments the ones that touch him the
most. That stay with him the most, always. It’s Charlie, who’s so simple and uncomplicated unlike everyone else that Don
knows that makes the moments so meaningful. That’s only one of the many reasons
why he loves his younger brother so much, so very much. It’s Charlie and Charlie
alone, who makes the quiet moments, the moments where Don can just be, seem
perfect; seem like nothing and everything, all at once.It’s Charlie, who’s writing a story told in numbers on his skin, that makes
Don know that without him, the quiet moments would mean nothing. Absolutely
nothing. But, not this time because unlike the months and years it took him to
realize how much the quiet moments mean to him; it won’t take nearly as long to
realize how much his Charlie means to him because tomorrow, he’ll wake up and go
to work with the fading ink lines of an equation on his shoulder, his stomach,
his wrist and never want to wash them off again.THE END