Drabble Series: It Seemed Wrong, Jan '09 Rewind (#73 Bullet) (#174 Blood) (#13 Luck) (#21 Survival)
Title: It Seemed Wrong
Prompts: Jan '09 Rewind (#73 Bullet) (#174 Blood) (#13 Luck) (#21 Survival)
Author: starlettmalfoy
Characters: Charlie, Don
Rating: R
Word Count: 4x100
Warnings: Violence, angst
Disclaimer: I don't own the show Numb3rs or the characters and am not profiting off of this.
Summary: Charlie kills for the first time.
Author's Note: Written for numb3rs100. My first drabble series ever. ::bites nails nervously:: Unbeataed. Any mistakes are my own, and are probably due to the fact that it's almost two thirty in the morning. Ick.
Noise (#73 Bullet)
Don wasn't there when Charlie killed his first man.
Both eyes were open --focus, Charlie, focus, oh god-- as he pulled the trigger. He couldn't hear his shot over the the rest of the noise. It seemed wrong. His hands had been steady, like his brother had taught him.
It was later, when the firefight was over, that Charlie's hands shook. He stood over the body of the dead man and let Colby's gun fall to the ground. When someone finally pulled him away, his feet accidentally kicked the bullet casings. The soft clinks taunted him with what he'd done.
Scent (#174 Blood)
The nightmares were vivid. Charlie would wake up in the middle of the night, a choked-off scream lodged in his throat. Those were the nights he cursed his amazingly detailed mind; it was forcing him to relive everything each time he closed his eyes.
He could remember the smell of the blood the most. Sometimes in his dream, it pooled on the floor, inching towards his feet, staining his shoes. Sometimes it bubbled from the man's chest as he gasped something that Charlie could never hear. The scent stayed with him even hours later as he left for the Bureau.
Thought (#13 Luck)
"You were lucky."
It was all Charlie had heard for days, especially from Don. Charlie ignored the looks his brother gave him when Don thought he wasn't paying attention. He didn't want to see the worry or the fear behind those eyes. Their empty platitudes just made his thoughts bitter. Was he lucky?
"Wanna talk to Bradford?" Don's voice was always soft nowadays.
Charlie nodded listlessly. Let them push their shrinks on him. The NSA already told him to see one anyway. Just as a precaution. To make sure their toy didn't break too much.
He didn't feel very lucky.
Prayer (#21 Survival)
"You had to do it, Charlie."
Charlie felt Don's hand squeeze his own, and only then did he look up.
"I-I killed a man." His voice cracked with disuse.
"It was you or him, Chuck. A matter of survival."
"How do I live with that?" Don's hand moved up to smooth through Charlie's curls. The movement was gentle, soothing. It reminded him of his mother.
"Just keep going. You have to."
"What if-" He broke off, sobbing into Don's chest.
"Shh. Don't worry, buddy. I'm here."
As Charlie cried himself to sleep, Don prayed silently and held him until morning.
Prompts: Jan '09 Rewind (#73 Bullet) (#174 Blood) (#13 Luck) (#21 Survival)
Author: starlettmalfoy
Characters: Charlie, Don
Rating: R
Word Count: 4x100
Warnings: Violence, angst
Disclaimer: I don't own the show Numb3rs or the characters and am not profiting off of this.
Summary: Charlie kills for the first time.
Author's Note: Written for numb3rs100. My first drabble series ever. ::bites nails nervously:: Unbeataed. Any mistakes are my own, and are probably due to the fact that it's almost two thirty in the morning. Ick.
Noise (#73 Bullet)
Don wasn't there when Charlie killed his first man.
Both eyes were open --focus, Charlie, focus, oh god-- as he pulled the trigger. He couldn't hear his shot over the the rest of the noise. It seemed wrong. His hands had been steady, like his brother had taught him.
It was later, when the firefight was over, that Charlie's hands shook. He stood over the body of the dead man and let Colby's gun fall to the ground. When someone finally pulled him away, his feet accidentally kicked the bullet casings. The soft clinks taunted him with what he'd done.
Scent (#174 Blood)
The nightmares were vivid. Charlie would wake up in the middle of the night, a choked-off scream lodged in his throat. Those were the nights he cursed his amazingly detailed mind; it was forcing him to relive everything each time he closed his eyes.
He could remember the smell of the blood the most. Sometimes in his dream, it pooled on the floor, inching towards his feet, staining his shoes. Sometimes it bubbled from the man's chest as he gasped something that Charlie could never hear. The scent stayed with him even hours later as he left for the Bureau.
Thought (#13 Luck)
"You were lucky."
It was all Charlie had heard for days, especially from Don. Charlie ignored the looks his brother gave him when Don thought he wasn't paying attention. He didn't want to see the worry or the fear behind those eyes. Their empty platitudes just made his thoughts bitter. Was he lucky?
"Wanna talk to Bradford?" Don's voice was always soft nowadays.
Charlie nodded listlessly. Let them push their shrinks on him. The NSA already told him to see one anyway. Just as a precaution. To make sure their toy didn't break too much.
He didn't feel very lucky.
Prayer (#21 Survival)
"You had to do it, Charlie."
Charlie felt Don's hand squeeze his own, and only then did he look up.
"I-I killed a man." His voice cracked with disuse.
"It was you or him, Chuck. A matter of survival."
"How do I live with that?" Don's hand moved up to smooth through Charlie's curls. The movement was gentle, soothing. It reminded him of his mother.
"Just keep going. You have to."
"What if-" He broke off, sobbing into Don's chest.
"Shh. Don't worry, buddy. I'm here."
As Charlie cried himself to sleep, Don prayed silently and held him until morning.