Red sky in the Morning…

Summary:…is a warning. With over a thousand possible victims and even less of a chance of catching the culprits, can Agent Don Eppes solve the mystery of his brother's abduction… or will the collaboration with the CBI tear his thinning patience apart?

Disclaimer: This is a Fan-fiction cross over story of the T.V Series; 'The Mentalist' & 'Numb3rs', and is in no way affiliated with the actual series'. All Characters and other materials related to the shows that are used, are not intended to infringe on any Copyrights. Elemental-Zer0 takes sole responsibility for any mistakes or offence that may be taken but truly not meant.

However, this story plot and all Characters not affiliated with the shows are Copyright © 2011 to Elemental-Zer0.

Authors Note/Warnings: This is a continuation for my Mentalist fanfic 'Red Moon Rising' though, for you Numb3rs fans, you don't have to read it to understand this story. All will be explained in the story and if you don't understand something, give us a shout and I'll try to explain it better.

It is a cross over and there will be interactions between the characters of both shows however, this is new to me so I've no idea how well this is going to play out. Please bear with me on this.

Let me know what you think, but no flames please. If you have any criticism to make please do it politely otherwise I shall ignore your words. (It's happened before, I'm sorry to say, and I hadn't even posted any chapters…)

Prologue: The Chosen…

He shivered.

The cold light spray of rain and the gentle but chilly midnight breeze did nothing to stop the tremors that wracked his over exerted body. He glanced upward momentarily to escape the eerie scene but the dark, starless sky offered no respite, no sympathy. He abandoned the sky and let his gaze fall around his immediate vicinity; the street was abuzz with police activity; red and blue lights cascading across the twilit road, scattering a colourful strobed light onto the grim crime scene. The officers paid him no heed or attention, focussing instead on the three dead men sprawled gorishly on the sidewalk a few meters away.

Dr Charles Eppes; a brilliant mathematician, professor and consultant to the FBI, watched it all in a daze; his dark sweaty curls framing his view of the bloody street. He still couldn't quite believe it was over.

He shivered again.

He wanted to stop shaking, he wanted to go home, lay down, sleep for a month and then maybe fill his empty stomach but he couldn't find the strength to even stand up let alone walk all the way home. He could only watch as the CSI guys mapped out the horrific scene while the coroners leaned over the bodies of the terrifying men on the floor. He could barely hold the ice pack to his burning wrist which caused his whole arm to throb painfully. The paramedic however was more concerned with his head wound and she constantly made her thoughts clear as she brushed his damp hair away from the nasty gash on his left temple. He couldn't even draw enough strength to flinch away when she applied an alcoholic antiseptic pad to the open wound.

Usually in times of great distress, Charlie could disappear into the safety of numbers. Algorithms soothed him, algebraic equations with all their infinite possibilities kept him focussed. With math, the answers were always there, the patterns were always discernable, and the data always had its place, meaning or value. Math gave his calculative mind a chance to try and understand; make sense of what had happened while also giving him an outlet to all the nervous energy he'd usually built up during the distressing time.

But even math wasn't helping him now.

He pulled the space blanket tighter around him, unaware of which paramedic had placed it there to begin with. He couldn't seem to get warm, couldn't stop shaking or stop his eyes from falling shut. He was close to just completely shutting down but the paramedic tending to him kept him awake, kept reminding him that his brother; Special Agent Donald Eppes of the FBI was on his way.

His shivering intensified.

He needed Don.

The paramedic said something about 'calming down' and 'shock' but in his agitated state he didn't really hear her. Another blanket, woollen this time, was wrapped around his shoulders. Bodiless hands helped to smooth the material from behind while the paramedic tending to his head repeated vague words of empty comfort. She was nice enough; friendly and caring but she wasn't Don or Alan… or Amita or Larry. His nerves were shot and his patience had long since abandoned him after having been held captive for as long as he had with no sleep, food or water. He wasn't in the mood or right frame of mind to tolerate anyone other than his immediate family and closest friends. He knew he was being unreasonable but his short snappish retorts and aggravating responses were all he had to vent the tension and weary energy that was trapped inside him. He was running on fumes. Sleep deprivation, malnourishment, physical and mental trauma... it was all pent up inside him.

He'd never been so afraid in his life.

His eyes slid out of focus for a moment; he zoned out, reliving the hell he'd just been dragged through, unaware of the FBI issued car that pulled up behind the yellow tape. It wasn't until he heard his name being called by a very familiar voice that he managed to find the present world again.

"Charlie!" His eyes slowly focussed on the comforting profile of his older brother as the man pushed past the throng of gathering people and bee-lined for him. Charlie's mind jumped ahead of itself. Unthinking of his recent near death escapade and unaware of the severe toll it had taken on his body, Charlie rushed forward, ignoring the surprised shouts of the paramedics, to meet his brother; however his body couldn't cooperate with his mind and he suddenly found himself unable to support his own weight. A moment of panic and surprise passed across his tired features before Don managed to catch him, lowering the both of them to the damp ground gently. Both men clutched the other closely, unwilling to let it all be a dream.

"Don't you ever disappear on me like that again, you hear me Charlie!" Don chastised roughly in a voice that sounded very wobbly and barely in control. It was a nervous rant which showed just how scared he'd been of losing Charlie for good. "Are you alright?" He asked after a moment of just holding him close. He let his arms loosen a little so that he could get a good look at the damage done. Charlie's throat sealed itself.

"Don…" was all he managed in a hoarse whisper before the whole ordeal caught up with him. Instinctively he latched onto his brother's jacket, feeling the most intense urge to make sure Don was really there and that it was over. Adrenalin gave him the strength to hold on with a vice like grip that impressed even himself.

"Oh Charlie…" Don breathed, pulling the younger man back into his chest.

"I was so scared…" The words were out before Charlie had even had a chance to contemplate them. Tears suddenly obscured his vision and a bone deep shudder wracked his thin frame. He let it all out. His fear, his pain, the loneliness, the loss and trauma… he let it all go.

Eventually he cried himself to exhaustion, finally letting sleep take him as he sat in his brother's protective embrace.

It was over.

A/N: Ok… who's confused? Good. That's how I like it lol. Yes, ideally I shouldn't really be posting this until 'Red Moon Rising' is finished but you can think of this as a teaser or taster or whatever it is they call 'em for now. I may update this before RMR is completed but whatever I post may be subject to change depending on how RMR goes… Let me know what y'all think k?