Fic: Prisms
This is a golden oldie, written for a challenge over at Numb3rs.org. It's general, PG rated, and contains no spoilers at all.
Jo
Charlie stood at the blackboard, chalk poised, but the equations had stopped coming. He lifted his hand to rub his eyes, and a miniature rainbow from the prism suncatcher moved across his hand. His eyes followed the rainbow as it traveled across the board and along the wall until it fell on the gray suited man in the doorway.
Charlie's eyes drifted up to meet his brother's eyes. He was amazed to see how sad, tired, resigned Don's eyes were, and knew his own eyes probably looked the same to Don. “Hey, Charlie,” Don said softly. “How're you doing?”
Charlie shrugged. “Not so great. How about you?”
“About the same.” Don stepped into the room and dropped heavily into the leather chair near the door. “You know we did everything we could. And we did save six girls.”
“But it's the seventh one that's tearing me apart, Don,” Charlie's voice cracked.
“Me too, Buddy. You know I didn't want you getting involved in that case. White slavery. It's ugly, it's brutal. I didn't want you involved.”
“I had to,” Charlie said softly. He put the chalk down and wrapped his fingers around the suncatcher. “The day you stopped by to ask me a 'general question' about the case - you didn't want to tell me the specifics because you knew I'd have to get involved - I could tell, even without the specifics that this was a bad case. I could tell just by looking at you. So I wheedled, I begged, I finally got you to tell me about it. Those girls, their families. I knew I could help them, and I knew I would never forgive myself if I didn't do everything I could.”
Don nodded silently, obviously not trusting his voice.
Charlie turned the prism until it projected rainbow colors on the white board across the room. “Remember how a prism works?”
“Yeah, it bends white light and splits it into its component colors. Roy G. Biv.”
Charlie grinned, “Right, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. Before Isaac Newton came along, scientists thought prisms added color. But Newton proved how they worked. Come here and hold this prism, and I'll show you.”
Don rarely understood where Charlie was going with these examples of his, but it was usually worth the trip in the end. He walked across the room and took the prism from Charlie, aiming it at the white board.
Charlie went to his desk and rummaged until he found a second prism. “The first prism is your white slavers. They have torn apart the lives of those seven girls and their families like the prism tore apart the white light. The second prism,” he placed himself between Don and the white board and held up the prism. “The second prism is you. And sometimes me, if you let me help.” He moved it into the beam of light and shifted it until part of the rainbow disappeared. “The second prism puts everything back together. Sometimes, if it's in the right place at the right time, it grabs all of the light waves and sometimes, it misses one or two.”
Don nodded. “We missed one, but we put six back together.”
“The one is devastating. But the six is why we do it. The six were what made me beg and plead until you let me in on this case.”
“And the six are what keeps us sane,” Don said, smiling slowly.
“More or less,” Charlie said as he walked across the room. He put the prism in Don's hand and closed his fingers over it. “Here, Bro. A little reminder for when it's hard to keep your sanity.”
Don smiled down at the prism in his hand, then looked at Charlie. “Thanks. I needed that.”
“Me too.” Charlie looked up at Don, grinning. “So you're not here for a lesson in physics. What's the new case? Anything I can help with?”
Jo
Charlie stood at the blackboard, chalk poised, but the equations had stopped coming. He lifted his hand to rub his eyes, and a miniature rainbow from the prism suncatcher moved across his hand. His eyes followed the rainbow as it traveled across the board and along the wall until it fell on the gray suited man in the doorway.
Charlie's eyes drifted up to meet his brother's eyes. He was amazed to see how sad, tired, resigned Don's eyes were, and knew his own eyes probably looked the same to Don. “Hey, Charlie,” Don said softly. “How're you doing?”
Charlie shrugged. “Not so great. How about you?”
“About the same.” Don stepped into the room and dropped heavily into the leather chair near the door. “You know we did everything we could. And we did save six girls.”
“But it's the seventh one that's tearing me apart, Don,” Charlie's voice cracked.
“Me too, Buddy. You know I didn't want you getting involved in that case. White slavery. It's ugly, it's brutal. I didn't want you involved.”
“I had to,” Charlie said softly. He put the chalk down and wrapped his fingers around the suncatcher. “The day you stopped by to ask me a 'general question' about the case - you didn't want to tell me the specifics because you knew I'd have to get involved - I could tell, even without the specifics that this was a bad case. I could tell just by looking at you. So I wheedled, I begged, I finally got you to tell me about it. Those girls, their families. I knew I could help them, and I knew I would never forgive myself if I didn't do everything I could.”
Don nodded silently, obviously not trusting his voice.
Charlie turned the prism until it projected rainbow colors on the white board across the room. “Remember how a prism works?”
“Yeah, it bends white light and splits it into its component colors. Roy G. Biv.”
Charlie grinned, “Right, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. Before Isaac Newton came along, scientists thought prisms added color. But Newton proved how they worked. Come here and hold this prism, and I'll show you.”
Don rarely understood where Charlie was going with these examples of his, but it was usually worth the trip in the end. He walked across the room and took the prism from Charlie, aiming it at the white board.
Charlie went to his desk and rummaged until he found a second prism. “The first prism is your white slavers. They have torn apart the lives of those seven girls and their families like the prism tore apart the white light. The second prism,” he placed himself between Don and the white board and held up the prism. “The second prism is you. And sometimes me, if you let me help.” He moved it into the beam of light and shifted it until part of the rainbow disappeared. “The second prism puts everything back together. Sometimes, if it's in the right place at the right time, it grabs all of the light waves and sometimes, it misses one or two.”
Don nodded. “We missed one, but we put six back together.”
“The one is devastating. But the six is why we do it. The six were what made me beg and plead until you let me in on this case.”
“And the six are what keeps us sane,” Don said, smiling slowly.
“More or less,” Charlie said as he walked across the room. He put the prism in Don's hand and closed his fingers over it. “Here, Bro. A little reminder for when it's hard to keep your sanity.”
Don smiled down at the prism in his hand, then looked at Charlie. “Thanks. I needed that.”
“Me too.” Charlie looked up at Don, grinning. “So you're not here for a lesson in physics. What's the new case? Anything I can help with?”