Numb3rs ficlet - Don POV, Charlie/Ian implied
Numb3rs ficlet - Don POV, Charlie/Ian implied
*
Don trusts Amita because Amita is safe. Amita has a smile that’s genuinely good, and a heart that isn’t twisted by regularly choosing who lives or dies and taking that decision into her own hands. Amita doesn’t have an edge in her voice or an edge in her smile or an edge in her name.
Ian Edgerton has edges everywhere. No part of him safe for someone like Charlie, who is easily hurt and affected; someone so much more innocent to the dark side of human nature, and who Don wants to keep that way. Amita is a known entity. Amita doesn’t know the adrenalin rush of pulling a trigger and watching blood spatter across pavement two hundred yards away, or the addiction of knowing you’re more powerful than a suspect and aren’t afraid to use that power, even want to use that power to make him suffer.
Amita can accept Charlie’s need to know, his desire to understand the why of life, and his need to escape it every so often. Ian’s always got to be in control, and while he has begun to respect Charlie, Don doesn’t know that he understands him well enough to take care of him without exploiting his innocence, staining it with that edges Don hopes Charlie will never feel.
Amita is good for Charlie. Ian Edgerton is not.
So when Don sees Agent Edgerton sidle up to his baby brother, coffee in hand and smirk on his lips, when he sees the way Ian casually brushes his thigh against Charlie’s hip, Don’s fingers tense on the stack of interviews he’s sifting through and he glares a warning that Ian either doesn’t notice or refuses to heed. Charlie looks up in the midst of explaining the latest graph he’s made for Don, and smiles before looking back down. It’s his nervous smile, the kind he makes when he’s not sure he’s reading the signs right because they’re from people, and people can’t be quantified.
But Don knows the look in Edgerton’s eyes. It’s the look he has with a gun in his hands and a target in his sights. Edgerton is the best sniper in the FBI and he loves what he does, and he could break Charlie in half and probably enjoy it, and Don is afraid that he’ll not miss his target because Ian never misses a target, and Dad will kill him if Charlie is broken because Don wasn’t watching.
Charlie finishes his explanation and turns in Don’s direction, but a hand on his shoulder stops him. Don doesn’t want to think how much bigger Ian is than Charlie, how helpless Charlie would be if he was alone with Ian, and how much Ian would get off on that power trip. Instead he tries to concentrate on witness interviews. He doesn’t look at Ian’s smug eyes as he whispers something in Charlie’s ear that makes him blush and stutter. He doesn’t watch Charlie try to pick up the graph three times after Ian straightens and walks away. He tries to ignore the fear in his heart when Charlie walks up to him, smile on his face, and says, “Don, can you tell Dad I won’t be at dinner tonight? Something-something just came up.”
*
Don trusts Amita because Amita is safe. Amita has a smile that’s genuinely good, and a heart that isn’t twisted by regularly choosing who lives or dies and taking that decision into her own hands. Amita doesn’t have an edge in her voice or an edge in her smile or an edge in her name.
Ian Edgerton has edges everywhere. No part of him safe for someone like Charlie, who is easily hurt and affected; someone so much more innocent to the dark side of human nature, and who Don wants to keep that way. Amita is a known entity. Amita doesn’t know the adrenalin rush of pulling a trigger and watching blood spatter across pavement two hundred yards away, or the addiction of knowing you’re more powerful than a suspect and aren’t afraid to use that power, even want to use that power to make him suffer.
Amita can accept Charlie’s need to know, his desire to understand the why of life, and his need to escape it every so often. Ian’s always got to be in control, and while he has begun to respect Charlie, Don doesn’t know that he understands him well enough to take care of him without exploiting his innocence, staining it with that edges Don hopes Charlie will never feel.
Amita is good for Charlie. Ian Edgerton is not.
So when Don sees Agent Edgerton sidle up to his baby brother, coffee in hand and smirk on his lips, when he sees the way Ian casually brushes his thigh against Charlie’s hip, Don’s fingers tense on the stack of interviews he’s sifting through and he glares a warning that Ian either doesn’t notice or refuses to heed. Charlie looks up in the midst of explaining the latest graph he’s made for Don, and smiles before looking back down. It’s his nervous smile, the kind he makes when he’s not sure he’s reading the signs right because they’re from people, and people can’t be quantified.
But Don knows the look in Edgerton’s eyes. It’s the look he has with a gun in his hands and a target in his sights. Edgerton is the best sniper in the FBI and he loves what he does, and he could break Charlie in half and probably enjoy it, and Don is afraid that he’ll not miss his target because Ian never misses a target, and Dad will kill him if Charlie is broken because Don wasn’t watching.
Charlie finishes his explanation and turns in Don’s direction, but a hand on his shoulder stops him. Don doesn’t want to think how much bigger Ian is than Charlie, how helpless Charlie would be if he was alone with Ian, and how much Ian would get off on that power trip. Instead he tries to concentrate on witness interviews. He doesn’t look at Ian’s smug eyes as he whispers something in Charlie’s ear that makes him blush and stutter. He doesn’t watch Charlie try to pick up the graph three times after Ian straightens and walks away. He tries to ignore the fear in his heart when Charlie walks up to him, smile on his face, and says, “Don, can you tell Dad I won’t be at dinner tonight? Something-something just came up.”