Finger on the Trigger



An AU/ Alt Ending for the fourth season episode "Breaking Point"

Rating: R

Warnings: AU with possible OOC connections, Language, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: I don't own Numb3rs.

Author's Notes: This is an AU fic for the 4th season episode Breaking Point so please bare that in mind while reading.

Summary: After Charlie crashes his car and the man shot his window, what if Charlie was actually hit and captured? An alternate ending to Breaking Point.

Picks up while Charlie is driving to Don's office...


Chapter One: The Crash

Night time over California; it was supposed to be peaceful, quiet. Most times it was exactly that then again...sometimes it wasn't.

The side streets were partially bathed in lights from street lights, one of which briefly illuminated a light blue Prius as he drove down the street at a steady pace. It's driver was Charlie Eppes who was heading to the FBI building to tell his brother the findings on his analysis.

From the way his hands gripped the steering wheel it was clear that Charlie was agitated. The question was why; why was he so agitated? Was it because of his interview and the subsequent ass chewing by big brother Don; that certainly had been embarrassing, or was it that big truck that had followed him the previous night?

The truck; so big that it towered over his dinky little Prius; the lights from the top of the truck shining so bright that it made seeing the road difficult.

A faint chirping sound brought Charlie out of his self absorbed musings. Glancing over to the passenger seat, on which sat his cellphone, he picked it up, hit the talk button and placed the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Look I...I...need you to take a look at some numbers."

It was Don; Charlie recognized his brother's voice the second it came through the speaker. The voice didn't sound mean or uptight; not like Don had been the other day. Charlie was grateful for that but he still was a little wary; not liking to be on his brother's bad side.

Numbers...Don said numbers. What sort of numbers? Numbers could mean anything until Charlie had a chance to look at them.

"Yeah...yeah I'm on my way down there right now. I just finished my threat analysis." Charlie said in to the receiver. He doubted that Don really cared about his threat analysis, but since Don was 'the boss' he needed to know of any new progress.

"Yeah? Anything?" Don asked.

Charlie shook his head, knowing that Don couldn't see it. "No, no nothing unusual. No one stands out." he replied.

His voice was a little bored; he didn't mean to sound that way but he was tired in more ways than one; physically tired yes but emotionally tired as well. It had been a trying week and he needed some down time but Don was counting on him; he couldn't just stop where he was could he?

No of course not, Don would kick his ass if he just stopped!

"Really? Of all the people she took down? Where are you?" Don asked.

Just as big brother asked that question, Charlie looked in his rear view mirror; blood pressure rising when he saw headlights from a truck; a truck that looked so much like the one that followed him the previous night!


Charlie still had his eyes glued to the rear view mirror, not realizing he lowered the receiver away from his mouth.


He was still ignoring Don. What could he say? Please help, for the love of God please help didn't sound all that appealing.

Eyes still on the rear view mirror Charlie saw the truck slow down and make a right. Sighing in relief, he then realized that his brother was still trying to talk with him; the worry apparent in Don's voice.

"Can you hear me? Are you there?"

Putting the receiver back up to his mouth, Charlie quickly replied "Yeah know I'm sorry. Um...yeah I'll be there in like...uh fifteen minutes okay?"


"Alrighty, bye."

Charlie ended the phone call, snapping his phone closed as he placed it back on the passenger seat. Man he was wound up and paranoid! The incident the previous night was probably not as bad as he made it out to be. He wasn't being followed; it was all in his head...right?

As he passed a small construction vehicle, his eyes focused on another truck; silver with head lights as well as lights on the top. It looked exactly like...

Oh no!

Charlie's mouth dropped open in a panic when he saw the lights on the truck come on; the truck pulling out on to the street directly behind him, speeding up quickly gaining ground on his Prius.

He looked behind him; the lights from the truck blinding him. This was happening again; it wasn't all in his mind!

Grabbing his cellphone from the passenger seat he flipped it up; thumb moving to press the number 1. Once he pressed it the phone would speed dial his brother's number; his However before he could hit the button, the truck rear ended Charlie's car with such force that Charlie dropped the phone which went sliding across the interior of the car.

Now phoneless there was no way to get in touch with Don, which meant that Charlie was on his own.

Pulse rapid, Charlie was beginning to panic. What did these people want? Why were they doing this? Who were they?

"No!" Charlie mumbled, looking both left and right, trying to find some avenue of escape. He had just crested a hill. Up ahead the road made a sharp right before it would leave the residential area. Several hours were directly in front of Charlie's car while a few trash cans were at the corner; Charlie's little Prius bearing down on them.

"Oh God...!" Charlie said as he glanced in his rear view mirror in time to see the truck speed up again to smash in to his back bumper once more. "Ahhhh!" he whimpered, the force of the collision whipping his neck and head forward and back. Pain lanced in his neck but he forced himself to keep going, keep trying to pull away. A whiplash would be the least of his concerns if he couldn't get away from whomever was in the truck.

Realizing that he was at the sharp right turn, Charlie grabbed the steering wheel of his car and jerked it in that direction, trying to make the turn without having to slow down but he was an inexperienced driver. There was no way he could have made that turn. His car spun out, smashing in to the garbage bins; spending them flying. The impact caused Charlie to bang his head on the steering wheel causing even more pain to lance through his body.

Charlie hoped the truck would continue on but it jerked to a stop, the passenger side door of the truck opening.

~No...No!~ he thought to himself. Reaching a shaky hand down he fumbled with the clasp to his seatbelt, finally pressing down on the red, plastic button so the clasp released.

Eyes not leaving the truck even as he began to try to throw the loose seat belt off of his body, Charlie saw the person leave the truck; a menacing look on his face.

The man lifted a hand; the glint of a pistol shining in the moonlight.

~Oh God!~ Charlie thought to himself as the man fired the weapon. There was the sound of breaking glass; the driver's side window now sporting a bullet hole. Still shaking, Charlie tried to move but arched his back in pain when he felt a burning pain all over his chest. Looking down right below his left shoulder he saw and felt the wet warmness of his blood soaking through his tan jacket.

He had been shot, there was nothing else to it...the bastard had actually shot him! Charlie was so shaken that at first he didn't notice the driver's side door opening; didn't notice rough hands painfully dragging him from the car. When he came back to his senses, Charlie saw that whomever was dragging him was dragging him towards the silver pickup. They were abducting him!

"No...!" Charlie murmered, now beginning to struggle against his captor but the man simply pointed his gun down and pulled the trigger once more, sending a bullet in to Charlie's right leg. Charlie yelped and went down hard, his right leg now not being able to support his weight. The man picked him up and slammed Charlie against the side of the truck, holding him there for a split moment before literally throwing him in to the floor of the pickup. He then pushed Charlie to the side and jumped in after him, closing the door behind him.

Now that Charlie was in, the driver of the pickup floored it, pulling away from the scene. What he didn't notice was a young twelve year old boy looking out the window of his bedroom in the house that was closest to the scene. The young boy had heard the speeding vehicles, heard and saw the crash and the abduction. Remembering what his parents said about dialing 911, he picked up the phone and dialed those three digits.