Title: Warning

Author: Erika (aka Sassafrass86)

Summary: A particularly gruesome case calls for Charlie's helps in finding the killer, but Don is wary of his younger brother's involvement. (T for brief mentions of rape, rating may go up in later chapters; no graphic descriptions) Please R/R. AU.

Spoilers: Squint and miss it from 1x09 Sniper Zero

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own no rights to Numb3rs, Rob Morrow, or David Krumholtz. Nor do I own Charlie, Don, Terry, etc. The only character I can take credit for right now is Geoffrey Pearce, and that is not exactly a thrilling prospect. All rights belong to CBS and the Ridley brothers. But really, can't I have David just for one day? He's just spectacular.

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The moment Don walked through the doors to his floor of the FBI building, he was met by his partner.

"Terry, what is it?" Don asked, seeing the solemn look on her face. She walked with him down the hall, sporadically clicking the pen she held in her hand.

"There was another victim."

"What?" Don demanded, stopping in his tracks. Terry nodded to confirm. "Jesus...Who was it?"

"Michael Bowman," Terry told him as they continued walking toward the office. "He was a student."

"What college?" Don asked, his brow knit. Terry hesitated, causing him to stop again. "Terry?"

She let out a deep sigh. "CalSci."

Don held her gaze for a moment, his eyes pleading with her, begging her to say it was a joke. "CalSci," he whispered, more to himself than to Terry.

"Hey, guys," another voice called. Don looked up to see his Charlie walking toward him, feeling his stomach drop. At Don's expression, Charlie frowned. "Is something wrong?" Don gripped Charlie's shoulder, worrying the younger man. "Don, what..."

"Charlie, there was another murder last night."

Charlie swallowed hard, dreading what Don was going to say next. "Who?" he asked shakily.

"His name was Michael Bowman, he...Charlie?" Don immediately became concerned when the color drained from his brother's face. Terry grabbed a chair from the nearest desk, accepting a grateful nod from the elder Eppes brother as he sat his brother down.

"Michael's dead?"

"You knew him?" Terry asked sympathetically.

Charlie slowly nodded his head. "Not very well, but he...he was in one of my classes last year, he was an excellent student..."

Don lightly shook his brother. "Charlie, it's okay, just take a deep breath."

Charlie looked up at the older man, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I don't understand, Don, why...Why him?"

Don bit his lip. "I don't know yet, buddy. But we're going to figure it out, alright?" He hesitated before continuing, "With your help, we're going to figure this out. Okay?"

Charlie stared at Don for a moment before replying. "Okay," he whispered.

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An hour later, Charlie was hard at work, trying to create an equation for the case. He had been given all the data that had been gathered so far. Pearce's victims were killed in a seemingly specific pattern, one that had been broken by the last murder. The victims seem to have been paired off. One college student, one professor. Each of the same gender, each from the same college. The first pair had been Andrea Harper and Professor Leslie Cullen of Bryman College. The next pair were Patrick Bateman and Professor Gregory Togo of USC. According to the most likely pattern that had held so far, the next victim should have been a female student. But Michael Bowman, now the fifth victim, didn't fit. Charlie brought his Expo marker to his mouth. Why had Pearce changed course? He turned to Don and Terry, who were sitting patiently behind him.

"Maybe he's starting a new pattern," Charlie thought aloud.

"Why would he bother?" Don asked.

"To throw us off," Terry suggested. "Keep us off his trail."

"Well, it's working," Don muttered, lightly pounding the table and leaning back in his chair.

Charlie tapped the marker against his chin, pacing in front of the white boards. "Female, female, male, male... Male. Why? Is he getting desperate? Killing anyone he can find?"

Don shook his head. "If he really wanted to, he could find a female college student walking around at night."

"Well, that's the thing," Charlie replied. "Does he want to? He's killed five people already, maybe he's getting bored, trying to mix things up."

Don shifted in his chair, uncomfortable with hearing his younger brother trying to get into the mind of a killer. "Charlie..."

"Maybe," Charlie interrupted, "there is no pattern at all."

Terry raised an eyebrow. "Charlie, there's a very obvious one right in front of us."

The math genius held up a contradictory finger. "Not necessarily. Had the fifth victim been a woman, we might have found a pattern. And even if there was a clear pattern, there isn't one anymore," he explained. Terry glanced at Don, who shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. Charlie stopped in front of a board, staring at the numbers he had scribbled down. "Maybe he's changing his whole agenda."

"Well," Don said, standing, "there are too many 'maybes' in this situation. We need to get something solid so we can find this guy."

Charlie looked over his shoulder. "I'm working on it," he said, almost defensively.

Don sighed. "Listen, Charlie, I know you're upset about Bowman. If you need to go home, then..."

"No," Charlie said harshly, turning back to the board. "I'm fine. We're going to figure this out, right?"

Don exchanged glance with Terry, who had concern etched on her face. He walked toward his brother, taking his arm. "Charlie, we're going to find him, okay? Don't worry."

Charlie let out a wry laugh. "This guy killed a student at the school I teach at last night." His deep brown eyes locked with Don's as he whispered, "I'm afraid, Donny."

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"What's the connection?" Don demanded angrily for the umpteenth time in an hour and a half. He threw the file of the fourth victim, Professor Togo, down on the table, bringing his hands to his temples. David Sinclair sighed, understanding Don's frustration.

"Let's go through it again," David said.

"We've gone through it God knows how many times already!" Don snapped. "All we have is what we started with."

"Maybe we're overlooking something," Terry suggesting, giving Don a distinct warning glare.

Don sat back. "Where do you think we should start?"

"Well," David started, "what do we know about the victims? We know that Andrea Harper majored in History, Patrick Bateman majored in Film and Television, and Michael Bowman majored in Mathematics."

"But the professors didn't teach the same majors as the students who were killed," Don pointed out. "The professors don't match up to the students." He silently thanked God or whoever else was listening for that detail.

"Yes," David agreed, "but Professor Cullen transferred from USC to Bryman."

"And why would that make her a target for murder?"

David's shoulders slumped there, unable to come up with a valid answer. "I have no clue."

A vacant silence filled the room as each agent ran over the cases in their minds yet again.

"Okay," Don said, followed by a long sigh. "We have Harper, Bateman, and Cullen all having some sort of involvement with each other. Bateman was in Cullen's psychology class while she taught at USC. So we have the first three victims connected."

"Right," Terry confirmed. "So maybe the connections have to do with the teachers?"

Don nodded, losing himself in thought. "But if that's the case, why would Pearce even bother to kill the students?"

"Maybe to add salt to the wound?"

"We'd have to assume, then, that each victims somehow knew each other. We know the second and third knew each other, but what about the first?"

Terry reached for the Harper's file. "Let's see this again... Majored in English, involved with the women's division basketball team... I'm not seeing anything that would connect her to any of the victims, other than the common school with Cullen."

Don drummed his fingers against his temples. "Maybe we're going about this the wrong way."

"What do you mean?" David asked.

Don bit his lip, thinking. "Maybe the connection isn't within the victims...Maybe it's with Pearce."

Terry straightened in her chair, her interest piqued. "You mean he's choosing victims based on what he has in common with them?"

"Exactly."

The three agents pondered this possibility for a moment before Terry spoke again. "Well, we need to figure out what Pearce's motive is soon. He's going to strike again, and now that the pattern is broken, we have no idea who he might try to kill next."

"There are agents posted at CalSci, right?" Don asked, breathing a sigh of relief when Terry nodded.

"Don't worry, Don," Terry said, knowing fully well what was running through Don's head. "Charlie will be fine."

Don looked taken aback at Terry's forwardness, but he quickly recovered. "Yeah, I know. Nothing's going to happen to him."

There was a pause. "How's he taking Bowman's death?" David asked.

Don shrugged. "He said he wants to go to the funeral, but I'm not sure that's going to happen."

"Why?" Terry questioned.

"Charlie is very... He doesn't deal with tragedy well," Don explained.

"Nobody does," Terry reminded him.

"Okay," Don conceded, "but Charlie especially. Look, I just... Charlie's scared, and if I'm going to be honest, so am I. So I need something to go with on Pearce. We just need to find him before anything else can happen."

Silence took over the room again. After a moment, another agent popped his head through the door.

"Don, there's a phone call for you," the agent said.

Don nodded. "I'll take it." He stood to take the phone, followed by Terry and David. "Eppes."

"Hello, Agent," a voice answered.

Don furrowed his brow. "Who is this?" That caught Terry and David's attention, and they moved closer to Don, who held a hand up, silently telling them to wait.

"This is the man you've been looking for," the voice replied, a thread of sadistic excitement threaded through his voice.

"Pearce." Terry and David widened their eyes, clamoring to get the other agents to set up a trace for the call.

"That's right."

"Why are you calling?"

"I trust you've discovered my latest work."

"Bowman."

"That's the one."

"You're sick," Don spat.

Pearce chuckled. "That I am, Agent Eppes. I have a question for you."

"What's that?"

"How is your brother doing?"

Don froze. His eyes scanned the office, but Charlie, as expected, was nowhere in sight. "You son of a bitch, I swear, if you touch him..."

"He's having lunch with a friend, Agent Eppes," Pearce interrupted calmly. "Professors Eppes and Fleindhart. Both teach at CalSci, am I correct?"

Don swallowed hard. "Leave him alone."

"Your brother is very attractive," Pearce continued. "And so young, too. Cullen and Togo were a bit older than my taste, but they were good enough. But Charles... He is a true catch."

Don cringed, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't even think of anything to threat Pearce with anymore, his thoughts were only on Charlie. "Please, leave him out of this."

"He's a real genius, your brother. He's helping you on this case, is he not?"

"No," Don lied. "No, he's not, he has nothing to do with this, just stay away from him."

Another chuckle. "Lies will get you nowhere, Agent Eppes. Don't worry. I promise I won't kill him."

Don opened his mouth to respond, but was met with nothing but the sound of the dial tone. I promise I won't kill him. The words rang through Don's head. He felt a hand on his arm and jumped in surprise, turning to see a worried Terry.

"Did we get the trace?" he asked.

Terry lowered her gaze to the floor and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Don, the connection was scrambled. It was an untraceable call."

"Of course it was," Don murmured, rubbing his chin.

"Don..."

"I need to get to Charlie," Don said. He pulled his keys from his pocket and strode to the door.

"Don!" Terry called after him, but he did not stop. He flipped open his phone and dialed Charlie's number. After a few rings, Don's worry was alleviated for a brief few seconds.

"Hello?"

"Charlie!" Don exclaimed.

"Don? Is something wrong?"

"Charlie, where are you?"

"Uh, I'm eating lunch with Larry at Su Casa, why?"

"Stay there, I'm coming to pick you up."

"What? Don, what's going on?"

"I can't explain right now, Charlie," Don replied, reaching his car. "Just stay put until I get there, okay?"

Charlie groaned. "Fine."

"Okay, I'll see you soon." He ended the call without waiting for a response and started the engine.

TBC