Title: Remember, a NUMB3RS fanfic
Title: Remember
Author: amy (boymommytotwo msn com)
Fandom: NUMB3RS
Characters/Pairings: Charlie/Colby, Alan
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Words: circa 1500
Summary: Charlie becomes aware. for the n3_challenge . thanks for giving a prompt that prompted. :)
Disclaimer: I own the ideas and any OCs, not the characters of this show. Anything you recognize is owned by someone else.
A/N: trying to brave it up to post to one of the many wonderful numb3rs communities we have here in lj-land. thanks to every single author who posts - it’s scary!
Beta: thanks to my beta who is also my fic hero... i was stubborn, however, and changed little “overall”… i was so spent after showing someone my fic that i froze. any additional feedback as it helps me process and is my cyber-love! hugs are nice!
Charlie watched as Alan arranged flowers from the garden over a ribbon on the kitchen counter. There was something more familiar about the spread of colors than they were from the backyard. He catalogued internally: allium unifolium, layia platyglossa... nemophila menziesii... the variation was... atomaria...
“rlie... Charlie.”
“Yeah, Dad. Sorry,” and he shook his head in response. “I’m sorry. I was just looking at...
“Your mother’s favorite flowers?”
“They are, aren’t they... I was trying to figure out...” Charlie went back and continued in his own head again.
“Where you had seen them before, I imagine.” Alan finished cleaning the leaves that had gathered soiled during the recent rain. “We’ve managed to keep a little patch of each of them alive the last few years. Which is wonderful... what Margaret would want. Although I don’t spend as much time in the garden as I should...” The balance of his sentiments punctuated by the gathering together of the array of stems, the white ribbon wrapped and then tied once, simply, near the middle of the bouquet.
“What are you doing, anyway, Dad?”
Sometimes having to explain the common life to his youngest was part of the territory Alan had long-ago accepted. “It’s Memorial Day, Charlie. I’m taking these to your mother and going to spend some time with her this morning.”
Charlie looked up, confusion evident.
“Memorial Day, Charlie. The reason you don’t have classes today,” Alan prodded. “Really, I haven’t mentioned it before because I didn’t know if you could handle it... didn’t want to bring it up when it wasn’t... necessary.” He walked through the kitchen door toward the front room, gathering the bouquet, a thermos and a book along the way.
“Well,” son stammered, “well, when are... how long will you be gone?”
“As long as it is, Charlie,” he paused. “It depends. If it’s quiet, I like to stay. If it’s not, I like to try and quiet my mind so I can have some time.” Alan looked up at his son’s dazed state, still watching him process his own journey for today.
“You know, Charlie. Your life is different now. You have a family and someone to think of other than yourself.” He could again see his son thoughtfully processing the new idea. “How we got you through childhood without an education on Memorial Day is sort of beyond me, I guess. But, Charlie, Memorial Day. Red poppies. Little flags on graves. It began a way to remember those who gave their lives in service to our nation. I know I’m no Uncle Sam... but I do think it’s important to remember. I would think you have someone else in your life who may be thinking of fallen heroes today.”
Alan opened the door and paused and looked back. “And, you know, now, for me, it’s time to be. I think somehow people morphed the holiday, the extra day, to wanting to remember everyone who’s gone before us. No one wanting an empty grave... something like that,” he took a deep breath. “Anyway, I’m going to sit with Mom.” He turned and was gone.
Charlie watched his father down the walk and get into his car parked on the street. He continued to process where his father was going and reflected on how it was certainly true how different his life was now. Even how much less lonely he was for his mother now that his person and world had expanded in ways he’d never imagined they would. In a million years. His mother, either, probably.
As he mused on that thought, Charlie set out to find his husband. Colby certainly could have feelings about today that Charlie hadn’t yet considered. Don, of course, would say he rarely considered the feelings of others. But he tried. He really, really tried and his growing family seemed to bring that out even more.
Right on cue, the tall, broad-shouldered love of his life rounded the steps in final descent.
“Hey Colby.”
“Hi, Love,” Charlie found himself on the receiving end of a beautifully simple good-morning kiss.
“So where are you off to?” Charlie quizzed as he noted Colby was not wearing standard day-off attire. He was dressed plainly in tan khakis and a green button-down shirt. It was one of Charlie’s seldom-seen favorites since there wasn’t much between suits for work and casual “at home” clothes.
“Oh, I’m actually headed to a service across town. I guess I thought since we had a free day you’d be in the garage working until we went to Don’s later this afternoon.” He studied the curly man’s eyes and chided, “You did remember we’re all meeting up today at Don’s right? Everyone’s going to be there, pick u...”
“Yes, yes, of course I remember. We’re going to the BBQ. I was, uh, just didn’t know what exactly we were going to do during the day.”
“Well, I am on my way to this Memorial Day thing and then I can come back,” Colby offered.
Charlie blurted out quickly, “Can I come with you?”
Colby narrowed his eyes and acknowledged the request slowly. “Yeah, of course you can come with me. But,” he ventured slowly. “can I ask why you’d want to come with me to some ceremonial rah-rah thing?”
“It’s important enough for you to be doing on your day off, I imagine it’s important enough for me to want to go with you,” and even Charlie was pleasantly surprised at the succinctness of his reply.
“Okay then. Well,” started Colby. “Through downtown toward Santa Monica, 45 minutes to drive and park. Can you be ready in ten?”
###
As they approached the gathering of people in the shadows at Los Angeles National Cemetery, Charlie inhaled and braced himself. It wasn’t his usual way to participate in that which honored others, the reflective. He was rather used to being the one honored, contemplated.
Mid sixties, surprisingly warm breeze with the air of saltwater evident... it was virtually a perfect day. Just as Colby and Charlie stopped and claimed spaces at the back of the crowd, the man officiating started to speak.
“Thank you very much for being with us here today: veterans and family members, members of the Armed Services, members of the Armed Services who gave their lives for our country.”
Charlie only heard brief phrases out of which what he was sure was a very nice speech.
“We remember our fallen heroes. We honor, as well, all the proud veterans who would have made the same sacrifice if God had but called His heroes home in a different order...”
The memorial must have been twelve feet square at the base and was a gradually tapered pillar reaching up into the clouds of this perfect Southern California day.
“...every one of our nation’s wars, every generation has borne a share of the burden giving to each succeeding generation the chance for freedom...”
It was called Memory of the Men Who Offered Their Lives in Defense of Their Country.
“There are known and unknown. Sung and unsung heroes... of more than two centuries of fighting tyranny are buried here...”
It looked to be solid granite and had a sheen about it although there was made of rough-cut stone.
“Our hearts go out today especially to those our departed veterans left behind. We must never forget the sacrifices that have paved the way to peace.”
There wasn’t anything smooth or particularly charming about the memorial.
“...we must also resolve to fulfill the obligation the rest of us incurred with their sacrifice -- to keep America free and strong. If those who fought and died for us could talk to us they might well ask, does our sacrifice matter?”
However, it was massive and easily conjured feels of grandeur.
“…God bless America.”
###
As the sunshine continued on Charlie’s face, he became aware the immediate warmth of Colby's body had left his side. He turned to watch Colby shake hands with several others. Some seemed to know him, he listened to others and spoke with a reserve animation when he did. A way that only Colby had of making others comfortable with no regard of self. Charlie waited.
As the last of the attendees scattered, Colby found his way to Charlie at the entrance to the drive surrounding them. They started to walk back to their parking space in quiet, eventually their elbows brushing and falling in synch.
"Thank you," Charlie whispered.
A puzzled look met somber.
"For what? Making you wait twenty minutes before we headed home?"
"For serving. For fighting. For keeping me safe more than the ways I already knew about - or acknowledged - before today."
Back at Colby's truck, they stopped alongside and came face to face.
"Charlie, I served because I needed to serve. I protect you because I need to. What is that? An innate part of me that doesn't exist because I want it to, it just does."
"I'm glad you're here and not gone."
"What?"
"What if I'm in a place like this remembering you someday... remembering the life we have together, as a family... and you're not with me?"
Colby scanned their surroundings and reached out for Charlie's hand. "You're not getting rid of me for a very very long time, Dr. Eppes."
"I just want to be. With you. All the time. I don’t want to remember. I want all my remembering, all our living, to be done in the here and now."
###
Los Angeles National Cemetery: http://www1.va.gov/directory/guide/facility.asp?ID=370&dnum=All, http://www.cem.va.gov/CEM/cems/nchp/losangeles.asp
Sections of the Memorial Day speech were taken directly from: http://www.coalitionoffamilies.org/clinton_mem_day_speech_2000.html
Flower information: http://research.calacademy.org/research/botany/wildflow/