Title: Never Nothing

Author: DeadlyNightShade13

Rating: K+

Spoilers: I don't do spoilers

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Numb3rs. (Wouldn't that be really cool though.) I am not making any money off this. (If I was, I wouldn't be mowing and cleaning the house all summer).

Summary: Charlie is sick no matter how much he doesn't want to admit it, but as the symptoms get worse, so does the illness. (Crappy Summary)

Note: Okay. I wrote story somewhat like this with original characters for Christmas one year (I have no idea why though). I realized how easily I could change it for Numb3rs so here it is. One of my characters is based on a character from Rocky Horror Picture Show (Don't worry. It's not a Transvestite or anything. I've just been listening to the soundtrack while I write. It's a good movie. See it) Ralph Hapschatt is this bad joke man who is married in the very first scene of the movie (Right after the lips). I stole his name and a bit of his personality. (Yes, I am a weird person, but it is a good movie. Give it a chance.) Wow! This is getting to be a long note. Sorry. One more thing, I'm working on a chapter story for Numb3rs and if anyone is interested in Betaing for me, email me please. Thanx! Byes!

Dedication: Okay. Sad thing time. My uncle passed away a few days ago, and I realize now how much I didn't know about him (He gave my brother the guitar I'm learning to play on, and I will always be ecstatic for that). It's funny how we think we would have liked to get to know somebody after they're gone, but since I can't, I will do this. I would like to dedicate this story to my uncle. He was a good man, a good person, and an all-around good guy. We will miss you.

Never Nothing

"Stubborness does have its helpful features. You always know what you are going to be thinking

tomorrow." Glen Beaman

Charlie pumped his legs harder as he headed down the bike path. It was late afternoon Friday, and he was headed home from CalSci. His mind was a million miles from the path he was on. He and Larry were working on a project, and Charlie's mind was focused on one of the problems they were struggling with. It wasn't like he really needed to pay attention to the path. Charlie had gone this way so many times he could practically navigate with his eyes closed. With his mind on the problem, he wasn't too far from that.

The variables clouded his mind, and Charlie never noticed the small log that was lying in the middle of the path. He couldn't comprehend what was happening as his front tire hit the log. Charlie lost control of the bike went crashing to the ground landing hard on his arm and right side.

After a minute, Charlie finally came out of a daze and sat up. He looked from the bike to his spot on the ground trying to figure out what had gone wrong. The explanation was lying in the path. The log was lying near the front tire of his bike. Charlie did a quick check of himself to make sure he was okay. Except for a bleeding scrape on his elbow and a sore side, he seemed to be fine.

Charlie let out a sigh as he slowly got back to his feet. He wiped some of the blood off his elbow with a wince and grabbed the handle bars of his bike. He got back on it and started off again for his house.

XVIIIIV

"Hey, Dad," said Don as he walked into the kitchen of his brother's house. Even though a few months had gone by since his brother had bought the house from his father Don still wasn't used to saying it. He saw his father standing at the stove cooking. That was one of the many duties Charlie didn't take over when he bought the house. "Where's Charlie?"

"Don't know," replied Alan taking whatever he was cooking off the stove. Don thought it smelled a lot like chili. "Probably still at the school. He should be getting home soon. I told him I was cooking tonight." Alan looked up at his oldest son. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Um...," said Don as he thought. He shrugged his shoulders. "I have to ask Charlie a question about a case he was working on for us, but I guess I could stay."

Alan nodded as he started to dish the food out into bowls. He and Don heard the front door open, and a moment later, Charlie walked into the kitchen.

"What happened?" asked Don seeing that his brother's elbow was bleeding. Alan turned around to see what his son was talking about.

"It's nothin," said Charlie as he walked over to the sink. "I kind of hit a log and fell off my bike."

Don laughed a little. "I thought you said that bikes were safer than cars,"

"Statically, they are," said Charlie as he started to wash off his elbow. He hadn't realized that what his brother had said was a joke. "But not all the factors are always averaged in. Like the log."

Don shook his head and put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "I was joking," said Don as he gave his brother's shoulder a shake.

Alan opened up one of the drawers and pulled out a box of Band-Aids. "Here," he said pulling one out of the box and handing it to Charlie.

"Since when do you keep these in here?" he asked as he pulled off the papers. He pulled back his arm and attempted to put the bandage on one-handed.

"I've had them in here for awhile," said Alan. "It was just in case anyone ever needed them."

Charlie finally managed to get the band-aid on and tossed away the papers. "Hope you're hungry," said Alan pointing to the bowls of food on the counter.

Charlie nodded and picked up one of the bowls. Don and Alan followed suit, and the three walked into the dining room. They started a conversation as they started to eat.

Charlie struggled to ignore his sore side during dinner, but was finding it hard. He had checked his side when he got home and found it was red. It was obvious there was going to be a bruise there tomorrow, but Charlie was finding difficult to ignore the dull throb in his side.

"Charlie?" said Don when his brother didn't respond to his question. "Charlie!"

Charlie shook his head and looked up at his older brother. "What?" he asked a little confused.

"I need that equation you made for that case I was working on," repeated Don. "We're just about to close the case, but I need the equation again."

"Um...okay," said Charlie still a little spaced out. "It have it upstairs." Charlie got up from the table and started toward the stairs.

"Charlie," said Don watching his brother walked out of the room. "I don't need it right now."

"Oh," said Charlie as walked back over to the table. "I'll get it for you later."

"Okay," said Don with a laugh. Charlie gave his brother and father a sheepish smile as he sat back down at the table.

XVIIIIV

Charlie woke up late the next morning from the combination of knowing he had no classes to teach that day and the dull throb in his side. Well, it was no longer a dull throb. Overnight, it seemed to have turned into an annoying ache. Charlie lifted his shirt and looked down a his right side where he had hit the ground yesterday. Like he had thought, there was indeed a bruise. He touched it lightly and found that it looked worse than it felt.

Charlie put his shirt back down with a sigh and swung his legs over the side of his bed. Movement seemed to cause more pain in his side. Charlie walked out of his bedroom and down the stairs. The sounds of dishes clinking together came from the kitchen, and Charlie wandered in to find his father making breakfast.

"Hey, Charlie," said Alan looking up at his son. "I take it you don't have much to do today?" He pointed at Charlie's pajamas.

Charlie looked down at his outfit and then replied, "Actually, I have to meet Larry, but not till later."

"Oh," said Alan with a nod. "You hungry? I was going to make eggs."

Charlie wasn't hungry at all. In fact, the thought of eating anything was making sick to his stomach. "Uh...," said Charlie as he put a hand on his stomach, "I don't think so. I'm not that hungry."

Alan looked up at his youngest son. "Alright," he said with a shrug after a minute of silence. "How's your elbow?"

"Um...," said Charlie looking down at his elbow. He had forgotten about that part of the accident. "Fine. Just bruised."

Alan nodded. "You sure you're not hungry?" he asked again.

Charlie felt nauseous thinking about the food and just shook his head in response. "Alright," said Alan. "Last chance."

Charlie shook his head again and walked out of the kitchen. He had to meet Larry in a couple of hours to discuss the project, and he figured it would be best if he didn't show up in his pajamas. As he climbed the stairs to go take a shower, the smell of food wafted up the stairs, too. The smell bothered Charlie's already agitated stomach, and for a few seconds, Charlie was afraid he was going to puke. After a minute, whatever had planned on coming up settled, Charlie went to go shower.

XVIIIIV

Charlie was trying his best to focus on what Larry was talking about, but it was hard. The nauseousness from that morning had come back with a vengeance, and he was afraid that if he opened his mouth to discuss the project, the nausea would win. That combined with pain in his side, which seemed to be getting worse, had made Charlie mute. He simply nodded an answer to most of Larry's questions.

"Charles," said Larry looking worriedly at his friend, "are you okay?" He was bothered by Charlie's quietness.

Charlie looked up surprised by the question that wasn't about Math. "Yeah," replied Charlie hoping that his stomach would remain settled while he spoke. "I'm just kind of tired." Exhausted was probably the better word, but he didn't say. Truth be told, Charlie had no reason or any idea why he was so tired.

"Alright," said Larry not fully convinced. Charlie went back to work without another word.

XVIIIIV

Alan was worried about Charlie. It wasn't that it was unusual for him to skip breakfast, but Alan couldn't help but notice a change in his demeanor. He seemed pale, and the entire time, he had not let go of his side.

"Calm down," Alan muttered to himself. "Charlie is a big boy." It was sometimes hard for Alan to accept that Charlie was an adult, especially since he didn't act like it half the time. It was the fact that Charlie didn't always take care of himself that was worrying Alan the most. If there was something wrong, Charlie probably would ignore it no matter how bad it got.

The front door opened, and Alan looked up to find his youngest standing in the hallway. "Hey, Charlie," said Alan from his spot in the living room.

Charlie turned toward his father. "Hey, Dad," he said back.

"You eaten yet?"

Charlie nodded. "I ate some lunch earlier. Not really hungry right now." It wasn't a total lie. He and Larry had eaten some lunch, but not long after they had finished, the nausea had won, and Charlie had ended up in the bathroom throwing up what he had eaten. The ride home had been the worst. Biking had caused the stabbing pain in his side to become even worse. Every movement seemed to make the pain flare up.

"Are you feeling okay?" Alan asked his son. Charlie didn't answer right away. He was having trouble focusing. "Charlie? Charlie!"

The young math genius looked up startled. "What?" he asked quietly.

"Are you okay?" Alan asked again.

"Yeah," answered Charlie with a nod of his head. "I'm just tired. I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Okay," said Alan rather confused as he took a quick glance at the clock on the wall. It was only 6:30. He watched as he climbed wearily up the stairs. Alan hoped Charlie would get better soon.

XVIIIIV

Charlie woke up late again the next morning, but was in no hurry to get out of bed. The pain in his side was worse than before, and the nausea was not going to go away without a fight. Charlie sat up slowly, wincing at the pain, and lifted his shirt to take another look at his side. It was still badly bruised, but now, it sensitive when he touched it.

"Dang it," muttered Charlie. The pain seemed to send a signal to his stomach, and Charlie prayed that he could make it to the bathroom in time. He ran to bathroom, which caused more pain, and made it to the toilet just as what was left of what he had attempted to eat yesterday came up.

Charlie leaned over the toilet for what seemed like hours before everything stopped. He flushed the toilet hoping his dad hadn't heard it, and slowly got to his feet. "It's probably just the flu," Charlie muttered as he walked back to his room. He collapsed onto his bed and pulled the blankets up around him. Charlie wasn't sure if he was going to be able to sleep, but he hoped he could.

XVIIIIV

"Hey, Donnie," said Alan as he watched his eldest walk through the front door. "What are you doing here?"

"I need Charlie's help for a case," explained Don. "Is he here?"

"He's not working on one already?" asked Alan.

"No," replied Don with a shake of his head. He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. "Why?"

"He seems really out of it lately," answered Alan. "I just thought he was working hard on something for one of your cases. I'm starting to get worried."

"Where's he at?"

"I think he's still asleep," answered Alan with a sigh. "I haven't seen him all morning. I think he's sick. I haven't seen him eat anything recently either."

Don thought for a minute worried by the story his father had told him. "Want me to go upstairs and try and wake him up?"

"You can try," replied Alan. He hoped that Don could get his brother out of bed, but knowing his youngest son, if there was something wrong, Charlie wouldn't want to admit it; Especially to his big brother.

Don climbed up the stairs and walked down the hall Charlie's room. He passed his parents' room and his old room on his way there, and knocked quietly on the door of his younger brother's room. "Charlie?" said Don as he pushed open the door. He saw a lump under the covers lying in the middle of the bed. "Charlie?" Don said again walking over to the edge of the bed. He gently shook his shoulder in hopes of waking him.

"Ow," came a weak response from under the blankets. The lump shifted a bit, but remained covered in the blankets.

"Charlie," Don said again. "What are you 'ow'ing about?"

The lump shifted again. "Side," came a muffled voice from under the covers. "Landed on it the other day. I'm fine."

"Dad's worried about you?" said Don starting to get worried himself.

"I told you, I'm fine," Charlie muttered again. Suddenly, Charlie threw back the blankets and ran out of the room. Don followed his brother and saw him run into the bathroom. Charlie's argument of being fine was completely destroyed when Don saw his brother start to puke.

Charlie was lost in a world of pain. Before he had even gotten out of the bed, breathing made his side hurt, and the pain now seemed to have spread to his entire abdomen. After what seemed like an eternity, the vomiting stopped. "You're not okay," Charlie heard Don say through a haze.

Don knelt down and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. He was shocked by the heat coming off his brother's body. "Charlie," said Don, "you're sick."

"It's nothing," muttered Charlie closing his eyes against the pain. "Probably the flu."

"It's never nothing," said Don. "You should probably see a doctor."

"I'm fine," Charlie insisted. "Just need a painkiller and some more sleep." He stood up, holding his stomach with one hand, and walked out of the bathroom down the hall. Don followed him. For a second, it looked like Charlie was going to fall as he walked down the stairs, but he was able to regain his balance by grabbing hold of the banister. Charlie got to the bottom and continued to the kitchen. Alan saw both his sons, and got out of his seat.

"What's going on?" Alan asked Don as they both followed Charlie into the kitchen.

"He's sick," replied Don. "He was throwing up and said his side hurt. He keeps saying it's nothing though."

They saw Charlie struggling to open a bottle of medication. "Charlie," said Alan taking the bottle from his son and opening it, "maybe you should see a doctor."

"I'm fine," said Charlie angrily. "My side hurts cause I fell on it. That's all. I just need to sleep." He got himself a glass of water not noticing the unconvinced looks on both his brother and father's faces. He was about to swallow the medicine when a stabbing pain shot through his stomach. The glass of water slipped through Charlie's fingers and broke into pieces when it hit the floor. Charlie fell to his knees as he wrapped his arms around his abdomen. A second later, the world went black.

"Charlie!" shouted Don and Alan as they watched him fall to the floor. They rushed over to him having no idea what had happened.

"Charlie?" Alan said as he cradled his youngest son in his arms. He could tell that Charlie had a fever, but there was nothing else to account for as to why he suddenly passed out.

"He was complaining about his side," said Don kneeling down next to his father and his brother. "Maybe that's it. Should we get him to a hospital?"

Alan nodded and carefully lifted Charlie's shirt. He and Don were both shocked by the dark bruise. Alan reached down and gently touched the bruise. Charlie winced as he slowly started to wake up. "Dad?" he murmured quietly trying to sit up.

"Hold on there, Charlie," said Alan pushing his son back down. "You just passed out."

"My stomach," complained Charlie grabbing his side which hurt the worst.

"Don't worry," said Don putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder. He was trying to sound calm, but deep down it felt like he had been punched in the gut. "We're going to get you a hospital." Charlie didn't respond. He was too tired and in too much pain to argue with both his brother and his father. He felt them both help him to his feet, and then someone slipped an arm around his shoulders to help him stay up.

"You're going to be fine, Buddy," Charlie heard Don say as he helped him walk. Alan and Don were taking him out to the car. It seemed like forever before Charlie was sitting down again, and the movement had not helped him stomach.

"How long has he had a fever?" Alan asked Don as they helped Charlie into the car.

"I don't know," replied Don with a shrug. He climbed into the seat next to his brother as Alan walked around to the driver's seat.

Charlie opened his eyes for a moment trying to comprehend what was going on. He shifted in his seat trying to escape the pain, but it did no good. "Hold on, Charlie," said Don realizing how much pain his little brother was in. He put a comforting arm around his brothers. He was worried about the heat coming off him and was trying to decided if the fever had gone up any. "You're going to be okay, Charlie," Don said to his younger brother not sure of who he was trying to convince; Charlie, his father, himself, or all three.

XVIIIIV

Alan and Don sat in the waiting room for what seemed like hours. When they had gotten there, Charlie had nearly been in tears with pain, but what made worse was how long it took for him to be called back. The ER seemed to be packed and the most severe cases had been taken care of first. Both Alan and Don found it hard to sit there and see Charlie in that much pain.

"What is taking them so long?" asked Don for the tenth time since Charlie had been called back. He had never liked hospitals, and his mother's death had just intensified his resentment of them. Now, his brother was here, and neither he or his father had been told anything.

"He's going to be okay," said Alan as calmly as he could. He was hoping to convince both him and Don.

A man in a Doctor's coat stepped out into the waiting room and all over hopeful faces looked eagerly awaiting news about their friends and loved ones. Alan and Don looked up with them too.

"Who is here for Charles Eppes?" asked the doctor well aware of how many people had hoped they would bring news about the people they knew.

"We are," said Alan as he and Don stood up. The doctor smiled and walked over to them. Alan hoped that was a sign that Charlie was going to be okay.

"I'm Dr. Ralph Hapschatt," said the doctor as he extended his hand to Alan and Don. They both shook it taking a good at the doctor. He looked like he was in his late fifties with greying hair that had once been red.

"How is he?" asked Alan trying to sound calm, but failing.

"The good news is," said Dr. Hapschatt, "he's probably going to be okay. He had an appendicitis. They can be fixed quite easily in most circumstances."

"Most circumstances?" said Don.

"That's where the bad news is," said the doctor. "They're not so easy to fix if the appendix ruptures which is what happened in his case. It wasn't too long ago though which is a good thing. There are less complications. He will probably have to stay here for about week, but he will most likely be fine. I'm wondering though if you could tell me about the bruise?"

Alan nodded. "He crashed his bike a few days ago. He told us he landed on his elbow and his side." The doctor nodded.

"Why?" asked Don.

"Well," said the doctor, "it's very rare, but in some cases, an appendicitis can be caused by blunt force to the abdomen. I've been a doctor for almost thirty years, and I've never heard of a case where it happened." He took a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders. "Hell. There's a first time for everything though."

"Can we see him?" asked Alan.

"I'm sorry, but not right now," answered Dr. Hapschatt shaking his head. "We've have him on antibiotics right now, and then we'll have to do surgery. After he is released, recovery should take about three to four weeks. No heavy activity or anything." The doctor paused for a minute and studied the worried looks on Alan and Don's faces feeling bad. "Follow me," said the doctor suddenly motioning for them to follow. They complied, and he led them out of the waiting room.

"Where are we going?" asked Don as he quickened his pace to walk next to the doctor.

"This is kind of against hospital policy," explained the doctor, "but Charles probably won't be taken for surgery for awhile now. We have to keep him on antibiotics to try and prevent anymore damage because of the rupture, and with the ER packed the way it is, it's life threatening cases first. You can go in there and see him, but if anyone asks, you're looking for the bathroom."

Dr. Hapschatt led them to a small curtained off area and left them to visit. Alan walked over to the side of the bed and picked up his son's hand. Don took a spot on the other side.

"Hey, Charlie," said Alan quietly pushing the hair back off Charlie's forehead. His was relieved to find the fever had gone down.

Charlie opened his eyes and looked up at his father and brother. "Hey," he said as loudly as he could, but his voice was hoarse.

"Hey, Buddy," said Don. "How you feeling?"

"Sore," replied Charlie. "What's going on?"

"You had an appendicitis," answered Alan. "You have to have surgery. How could you ignore the pain?"

"Thought it was flu," answered Charlie with shrug. He winced at the movement.

"It's a good thing you're a math professor," said Don with a laugh, "and not a doctor."

Charlie nodded not really aware of the humor his brother was trying to get at. He was using most of his strength just to stay awake.

A nurse, who was supposed to prep Charlie for surgery, came in and was surprised to find Don and Alan. Dr. Hapschatt covered for them, but they were still forced to go back out to the waiting room.

XVIIIIV

It once again seemed like hours they had to wait in the room for Charlie's surgery to be over. "How could he just ignore the pain?" Don asked in a frustrated tone.

"You know him," replied Alan. "If he's working on a project or anything, he doesn't slow down, and he doesn't admit he's sick."

"Those things can be fatal."

"I'm well aware of that." Alan really didn't want Don to know how worried he had been.

"He should have known something was wrong," said Don as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Think of it this way," said Alan trying to make his son feel better, "he won't have to worry about it again." Don looked up at him, and Alan gave him an encouraging smile. Don gave a half-hearted smile back.

Sometime later, Dr. Hapschatt came back out. "There were no more complications," he said happily. "He should fine, but he's still gonna have to stay here for awhile, and like I said, no heavy activity or anything for three to for weeks." He explained a few more things including signs of after surgery complications before telling them Charlie's room number. "He's in room 483. You just take the elevator to the second third floor and go straight down the hall. I don't know if he's awake yet, but you're welcome to go up there." He said a good-bye before going to deal with other patients.

Alan and Don took the elevator and easily found Charlie's room on the third floor. He seemed to just be waking up. They hurried over hoping that Charlie would be able to talk to them.

"You feeling any better?" asked Don when it seemed like his brother was awake enough to have a conversation. He sat down next to the bed careful to avoid the IV stand. Alan took a chair on the other side.

"Still sore," muttered Charlie hoarsely. He tried to move into a more comfortable position, but it caused a pain in his side.

"Hey, Charlie," said Alan. Charlie turned toward him. "Next time you feel this bad, could you tell us? We really don't need another trip here."

Charlie nodded weakly. He was exhausted. "How long am I here for?" he asked.

"About a week," replied Don, "but the doctor said you won't be fully recovered for about three weeks."

"What!" said Charlie struggling to sit up. He winced in pain, and Alan and Don helped him lie back down.

"I suggest that if you won't to make a quicker recovery," said Alan, "you don't do that."

XVIIIIV

It had been two weeks since Charlie had gotten out of the hospital, and he was trying his best to, as the doctor said, "take it easy." He had had several visitors while he was in the hospital including two students, Larry, and Amita. She had agreed to teach his classes while he was gone. Don had another case he need his help on, and Charlie had spent most of his resting time solving equations for the FBI from the couch in the living room.

Charlie looked up when he heard the door opened. "Hey, Don," he said when he saw his brother.

"Hey," said Don as he walked into the living. "Where's Dad at?"

"Golfing," replied Charlie. "How is the case going?"

"Good," replied Don sitting down in the chair. "How you feeling?"

"Okay," answered Charlie putting down the notebook he was writing in. "My side hurts every now and then, but other than that, I'm fine."

"That's good," said Don. "Dad and I were really worried about you."

"Yeah," said Charlie quietly. "Dad told me that. I just thought it was flu. I didn't think it would get that bad."

Don shook his head. "Remember, Charlie," said Don, "the flu does not make you pass out from pain while you're standing in the kitchen." Charlie wasn't sure how serious Don was being until he gave him a smile.

Charlie laughed and nodded his head. "I'll try," he said back.

"When do you think Dad is gonna get back?"

"I'm not sure," replied Charlie. "I was gonna order a pizza here in awhile. You're welcome to stay."

Don looked at his younger brother. It had been almost three weeks since Dr. Hapschatt had told them Charlie was going to be fine, but Don could still see his little brother sitting in the hospital waiting room in tears of pain. "Sure," said Don still wanting to make sure his brother was okay. "I'll stay."

XVIIIIV

Yay! I hoped you liked my story. I would like to contradict something I said in here. I love to bike ride, but they are not as safe as I said. I have been hit by a car twice, and broken my leg, all while biking. Well, 12:30 in the morning, I think I should hurry up and post this. BYES!