Hello everybody.

This is sort of a companion piece to "The Bodyguard", but this is Charlie's story.

I came up with the concept a while ago, but didn't have time to write it ... until my fiancé's demon dog woke me up at 6:30 IN THE MORNING! Sorry, lost my happy place, anyway ...

I type most of it up then and figured I finish it up and post. (You guys seemed to like the last one, so I figured you'd want a second.)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any rights to Numb3rs or the literary works of Lewis Carroll.

March 1980

Charlie sat in the large chair in the living room, swinging his feet over the edge as he read and wondering why people were so fascinated with randomness. This book was supposedly a work of literary genius, but he could barely follow the chaos. And it was written by a mathematician!

"No Don, not both of them."

Hearing his brother's frustrated growl pulled the five-year-old out of the confusion of Wonderland and made him aware of the confusion in the dinning room. Was Don still doing homework?

"Dad, can't I just do this later? Joey's party starts in an hour."

"Then you better hurry," Alan said firmly, taking a seat at the table next to his son. "Now what's the first step to dividing fractions?"

"Bang your head into the table?"

Charlie giggled, but quickly turned back to the book when his dad gave him a stern look. He briefly wondered what his tutors when say if he gave an answer like that when they ask him the steps of problem solving, but was soon pulled back in the mixed-up world of Lewis Carroll.

'Please, then,' said Alice, 'how am I to get in?'

Rereading the line before glancing up at where his brother struggled with math, Charlie began to wonder if this is why people found this book so fascinating. Alice was trying to solve a problem too. Interesting. Maybe if he could see how Alice solved her problem he figure out how to help Don with his.

'There might be some sense in your knocking,' the Footman went on without attending to her, 'if we had the door between us. For instance, if you were inside, you might knock, and I could let you out, you know.'

Charlie read on a ways, but the backwards sentence seemed to be the most logical thing the footman was going to say. Of course, he was trying to get logic from a fish dressed in something called livery. He would have to remember to ask Mommy what that was later, but right now he had to find the answer for Don.

'How am I to get in?' asked Alice again, in a louder tone.

Are you to get in at all?' said the Footman. 'That's the first question, you know.'

This guy was starting to get on his nerves. How was he going to find a way to help his brother if the only person who knew how to get into the house was just staring at the sky. Was this how Don felt when he tried to do math? Numbers always came easy to Charlie and the idea that people thought it was hard was almost as confusing as the fishy footman. But Mommy said that everyone thinks differently and he just thinks in numbers. She said she thinks in laws and Dad thinks in buildings. Maybe Don thinks in baseball ...

'Oh, there's no use in talking to him,' said Alice desperately: 'he's perfectly idiotic!' And she opened the door and went in.

Charlie gaped at the book for a minute. He didn't know if he was more surprised that it took her so long to notice the guy was crazy or the fact she just walked into a strange house. Any sane person should know not to go into a place that was so obviously violent. But she did follow the white rabbit down the hole, so maybe she was kinda crazy herself.

"Hang on," his dad's voice cut through his thoughts. "I'll be right back."

As soon as Alan left, Don shoved his paper across the table and laid his head down in his arms. Charlie put in his bookmark and slowly walked into the dinning room. His brother usually didn't like it when he interrupted him, but he couldn't stand to see Don so upset.

"Don?"

"What?" the ten-year-old growled.

"Can I help?"

"No," he snapped, sitting up and glaring at his homework. "You heard Mom and Dad. If I let you do my math one more time I'm grounded."

Well, he didn't want Don to get grounded, he'd miss his friend's birthday party. But there had to be something he could do. Looking from the unfinished problems to the book in his hands, Charlie suddenly had an idea.

"Hey Don, have you read this yet?"

His brother looked at him like he had just tuned into the fishy footman. He must not have read the book. Charlie climbed onto the seat his dad had just left so he could explain.

"It's about this girl named Alice-"

"I know the book, Charlie," Don interrupted angrily. "Why are you bringing up a stupid kid's story anyway?"

"Well, the story isn't just for kids …" he started, until he caught his brother's glare. "Oh, uh, I thought it could help you."

Don looked skeptical, to say the least, but this didn't deter Charlie. He pulled the textbook over and pointed to the first problem.

"Okay, so you know how to multiply fractions, right?"

"Yeah, but that's easy, you just go across."

"Uh-huh, and it's the same here."

"No, this is dividing. And what does this have to do with that book?"

"Just watch," Charlie started, ripping a blank page out of Don's notebook and copied down one of the problems. "You need to invert the reciprocal by reversing the numerator and denominator."

"Great," Don muttered, slumping in his chair. "Now a kindergartener is making me look dumb."

"Am not," Charlie scowled. "I'm trying to help you so you can go to the party."

Don didn't say anything else, but he was still paying attention so Charlie kept writing. Once he had the problem transferred onto the scrap paper he pointed to each of the fractions with his pencil.

"Dividing is multiplying in reverse, so you gotta stand the problem on it's head."

"But I did that," Don protested. "It didn't work."

"Show me."

The older boy rolled his eyes and groan, but picked up his pencil and started to work on the problem. Once the rewrote the fractions, Charlie immediately saw the flaw.

"You're not supposed to flip them both."

Slamming the pencil down, Don glared at him and for a few seconds Charlie was afraid he was going to hit him. In the end he relaxed and crossed his arms on the table, burying his face from sight.

"You're half right," Charlie offered, picking up the pencil. "But it's like 'Alice in Wonderland.'"

"Yeah," Don scoffed, sitting up to rub his face. "It makes no sense."

"That's not what I meant," Charlie muttered, pointed at the problem. "The people in wonderland are all crazy, but Alice is normal. So you stand one on it's head and leave the other alone."

Pausing for a second, Don pulled over the problem and gave it another look. For a second, Charlie thought he was getting it, but a moment later he pushed it back.

"Problem is, I don't know where Alice is. It looks like I got stuck with the Mad Hatter and the White Rabbit."

"You always have an Alice," Charlie informed him, tapping on the first of the two fractions. "She is the one stepping up to meet the other."

Don pulled the paper back over to him and took the pencil out of his brother's hand. He bit the eraser end as he looked over the problem before writing it out in the second step. Charlie beamed at him, so glad that he finally seemed to get it.

"Now you just multiply," he instructed, picking up his book and climbing down.

"Wait, which one is Alice in the next one?"

"She's always the one coming in."

"Okay, thanks … and Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"You tell anyone about this and I'll pound you."

Nodding in agreement, Charlie hurried back over to the big soft chair. He didn't know why Don didn't want him to tell anyone, but if he wanted it a secret then he would keep it a secret. A few minutes later, Alan came back in looking through a book that taught math, but was surprised when Don didn't need it. That was another thing Charlie couldn't figure out. Why did his parents buy so many books about understanding math when they could just ask him? The five-year-old shook his head and went back to reading. Grown ups are weird.

April 2006

Charlie carried a pair of beers into the living room, wordlessly handing one to Don. He hadn't been officially brought in on the case that was currently plaguing his brother, but that didn't mean he couldn't help.

"Is it the guy from the paper?"

"Forget it, Charlie," Don muttered, taking a sip of his beer.

Of course, in the language of Don, that was a firm yes. The serial killer had been terrorizing citizens on the west side for a couple weeks now. Nine dead, the bodies so disfigured that no pictures had been released. Charlie had even heard David and Megan talking the other day, said the kid who found the last one was now in therapy. It was little wonder why big brother didn't want him on the case, just thinking about this guy made him sick. Still, as much as Charlie didn't want to know the gory details, he wanted to help Don more.

"You know, I can probably form a data set with just-"

"No," Don snapped.

For the first time since he walked through the door the brother's made eye contact and what he saw there made Charlie go silent. There was a whole war of emotions; anger, guilt, frustration, and grief; still, the one that stopped the mathematician dead in his tracks was fear. It only lasted for a moment, it was more than enough to make an impact. Don didn't get afraid, or at least he didn't show it. Something about this killer scared him, and the very idea of that terrified Charlie.

"You can't help me on this one, buddy," the agent continued, softening his tone and shifting his eyes back toward the game. "This guy doesn't follow logic. He has no patterns, no preferences, and there is no way to determine where he will go next. Not even your math could help us with this."

Charlie though about reminding him how difficult it was for a human being to consciously make a random pattern and that he probably could find the tell tale flaws if given enough data, but the would probably just get Don to leave. He had to help him from a distance. Glancing around the room for some sort of inspiration, he wondered to himself how exactly he could pull this off with little to no information on the current problem. Then he saw the answer on the book shelf.

"Hey, do you remember reading 'Through the Looking Glass?'"

"What?" Don shot him a puzzled look.

Motioning for his brother to wait a minute, Charlie got up and pulled the children's book from its spot on the shelf. He briefly wondered why they still had the Lewis Carroll books, but brushed the thoughts aside to focus on the problem at hand. He thumbed through the first section until he finally found the place he wanted.

"Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogroves,

And the mome raths outgrabe."

He closed the book and looked up at Don, who if possible looked more confused than when they had brought up the subject. Taking his seat on the couch, he put the book on the table and explained.

"Many scholars have argued about Lewis Carroll's work. Some people say it's pure nonsense, others insist that there is a deeper meaning."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, maybe this guy does have a method buried somewhere in his madness."

"Like a code?" Don murmured, picking up the book.

Suddenly he grinned and shook his head. The sudden change made Charlie frown; it looked like it was his turn to be confused.

"What?"

"You don't remember do you?" Don asked, his eyes sparkling with humor that had been absent for the last few weeks. "Well, you couldn't have been more than five at the time."

Now he was really confused. What did he do when he was a kindergartener that relates to a serial killer case? Don's smiled became softer as he set the book back on the table.

"When I was a kid, you used 'Alice in Wonderland' to teach me to divide fractions."

"I did?"

"Yeah, something like Alice comes in to see the Mad Hatter standing on his head. I don't remember how you phrased it, but it worked."

It took Charlie a second to process how the fictional characters related to fractions, but he could see the logic there. Now, hopefully, Don would be able to see the same logic in letting him help. But before he could say anything else, his brother was on his feet and heading towards his coat.

"I'll have Megan look over the case in the morning, see if the Mad Hatter left a few hidden clues. Thanks for the beer."

"Anytime," Charlie replied, leaning against the wall while Don grabbed his gun and keys from the table. "You know, I only have an afternoon class tomorrow if-"

"Goodnight Chuck," Don cut him of, heading out the door.

Glaring at the hated nickname, Charlie went back to the living room to get his beer, pausing to listen to the sound of the SUV pulling away. At least he got him thinking on the right track. Maybe he could help without data after all.

So? Like it? Hate it? Is it as least as good as its (for lack of a better term) brother story?

Let me know what you think while I try to rewrite the next section of "Lock and Key" that my computer so stupidly deleted. (Don't you just love technology?)