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Undercover	By : IrenaAdler Category: M through R > NUMB3RS Views: 2309 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own NUMB3RS, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Part 14�Holding On
Walking into the interior of the
retreat, Don flipped open his phone.� He
ignored the other retreat clients and staff standing about in worried clusters.

First, he called the FBI office to
make sure that the FBI was indeed handling security at UCLA Med.� A two-person team was already at the
hospital, waiting for Will�s helicopter to arrive.� He hung up then dialed another number.

�Don?� Colby said with a tinge of
annoyance.� �What is it?�

Don abruptly remembered it was
almost 2AM, so he didn�t snap at Colby�s grouchiness.� �Will�s been shot,� he said quickly.� �It�s bad.�
He�s in critical condition and they�re flying him to UCLA Med for
emergency brain surgery.�

�Oh, God,� Colby said.� �What do you need?�
��
�Let Dad and Charlie know, then
head over to the hospital to meet the chopper.�
Knight and Blankenhorn will already be there.�

�Why?�� Colby asked, startled.

�DEA has a fucking leak,� Don snapped.� �We walked into a trap.�

�Damn,� Colby said.� �I�ll be there.�

�Call David and Megan too.� I don�t know how far this goes and I need
people that I can trust protecting Will.��
Don said.� �I�m driving down from
the mountains.� I�ll see you in about an
hour and a half.�

Colby hung up and Don found himself
standing outside the door to the room where he�d spent so many hours with
Will.� He gritted his teeth and unlocked
the door.�

The room looked the same, like they
had just stepped out.� Somehow things
should be different, should reflect the different world that Don now lived
in.� The room even smelled like Will � his
skin, his hair, the obscure, spicy aftershave he used.

Forcing himself into movement, Don
shut the door and strode through the rooms to the bathroom.� He needed to make himself somewhat
presentable so they�d let him into the hospital.� And not drag him back to the ER with all the
blood on him.

Stepping into the tub, Don wrapped
a towel around his bandaged arm.� He
stood under the shower head, his bandaged hands pressed against the tile on
each side of the shower nozzle, and let the cold water pour over him.� Warm water would be an undeserved
comfort.� He sluiced as much blood from
his body as possible without scrubbing, then dried off awkwardly.� He pulled on a pair of jeans and impulsively
grabbed one of Will�s T-shirts from the closet to wear.� He dragged out the suitcases and began
throwing things into them, trying very hard not to notice things like one of
Will�s books with a napkin for a bookmark, the dirty clothes that were still wet
with Will�s sweat, the crumpled towel that they�d used to clean up the last
time they made love.

Don carried the luggage to Will�s
car and shoved it in the back.� He tossed
the keycard to a silent Lynn and adjusted the driver�s seat from Will�s
position to his own.� Pulling out of the
driveway, he thought with longing of the few idyllic days he�d spent here with
Will.� Everything from the good food to
the swimming to just hanging out.� He
thought about Will�s strong fingers running through his hair as they watched a
movie, their competitive Trivial Pursuit game, even when Will pissed on him to
test whether he would take it.�

He shut the box on those memories
carefully, like delicate treasures, and focused on the immediate future.� Pushing the car way over the speed limit, Don
drove down from the mountains toward Will.

As the miles flew by, Don tried to
think logically about whether Will needed FBI protection.� Yes, the DEA had a mole, but was Will a
threat to that mole?� Well, no, but the
mole might not know that.� The only
person Don had told what they knew was Sanchez.�
It seemed unlikely that Sanchez was the mole, though anything was
possible, so the mole might not realize that the Richland brothers hadn�t told
Don and Will anything useful before they�d died.� Sanchez might tell her team that they knew
nothing beyond the fact of the mole, but the mole might not believe her.� If Don knew something, he would have told
Sanchez already.� But the mole might
believe that Will, as a DEA team member, had picked up something that Don hadn�t.� So, it might be over-reacting, but Don was
somewhat justified in putting protection on Will.� Never mind the fact that it made Don feel a
fraction less powerless in the current situation.� Or that he could somehow make up for the fact
that he�d failed as Will�s backup.

Don relived the crucial minutes in
the basement over and over again.� He
should have wondered where John Richland was.�
He should have moved closer to Jarvis while he�d been focused on
Will.� He should have grabbed some sort
of weapon from upstairs, something heavy he could have thrown at Jarvis instead
of trying to tackle him.� Then he would
have been in a better position to stop John, or at least distract him.� Just a slight alteration of his shot and he
would have missed Will altogether.� A slight alteration and Will would be dead.

Shuddering, Don drove even
faster.� Will could be dying right this
moment, or waking, confused, frightened and certain that something had happened
to Don.� He hoped that his family had
gotten to the hospital quickly, so at least someone would be there if Will
woke.

He drove automatically, trusting in
his knowledge of his hometown to get him to where he was going.� Indeed, some endless turmoil of mind later,
he found himself pulling into the parking lot of UCLA Medical Center.� He parked Will�s car and got out quickly,
hurrying across the parking lot in the odd quietness of early morning.� He checked his watch � a little after 4AM.�

Pushing open the glass front door
with more force than necessary, Don looked in the waiting room but didn�t see
anyone he knew.� Could Will be out of
surgery already?� He went up to the
information desk.

�Will Stevens?�� he asked the clerk.� �He would have arrived by airflight?�

The clerk checked her computer and
said, �He�s still in surgery.� You can
wait in the Surgical Waiting Area.�

She directed him down the hall and
Don wasn�t sure if he was impressed or worried that they had a special waiting
room for surgery.

Don reached the waiting room and
saw his father, Charlie, and Nena in an otherwise empty room.� Alan jumped to his feet and came toward Don.

�Hey,� Don said quietly.� He avoided his father�s hug and just gripped his
shoulder lightly.� He was barely holding
on as it was and a hug might unhinge him.�
�Any news?�

Alan gripped his shoulder back,
eyeing Don�s bandages.� �No, just that he
arrived by helicopter around 2:15AM and has been in surgery ever since.��

�Damn, so the chopper got here
before Colby did.� He is here, isn�t he?�

Alan nodded.� �Yes, he�s outside the surgery suite with two
other agents that I don�t know.�

�Should be Knight and Blankenhorn,�
Don said.

�Colby said something about a
mole?�

�Yeah,� Don said tiredly and walked
over to where Charlie and Nena were.�

Charlie was sitting on the floor,
his back against the wall, his legs out straight, Nena in his lap.� Nena had fallen asleep in his arms and
Charlie was struggling to stay awake.�
His head kept drooping then jerking back up.� He looked up, blinking, as Don sat down in
the chair next to him.

�Hey,� Charlie whispered over
Nena�s head.� �What happened?�

Alan sat in the chair on Don�s
other side and nodded encouragement.

�First,� Don said. �What about
Megan and David?� Did someone call them?�

Alan nodded.� �Colby did.�
They were going to go into the office to check the security detail?�

�Oh, right,� Don said.� He�d told Colby that he needed people he
could trust to watch Will.� David and
Megan would be whittling the security list to a select few and setting up the
watch rotation.� He was really slow
today.

He rubbed his eyes. �So everything
started off great.� It was pretty fun,
actually.� We had a good few days of posh
vacation, once we settled some, um, leadership difficulties.�

�I can imagine,� Alan said with a
faint smile.

�We started investigating on Monday
afternoon,� Don continued, �and that night, we were actually just five minutes
late from stopping a shipment of Cloud Ten � that�s the drug we were after.� Will was really pissed off by that.� But we were sure that the Richland brothers
were making it in their basement, so the next night we broke into their house.� Everything was really quiet and we found the lab,
laid out nice and pretty, like something out of one of my classes.�

He swallowed and closed his
eyes.� �Then one of the brothers comes
out of this door that was completely hidden and tells us that he�s been waiting
for us.� He knows all about us - our
names, our jobs, and that no one will miss us until Friday, when we�re supposed
to check in.� Will jumps him, and God,
Dad, you should have seen him move.� He
was so fast.�

He swallowed again.� �But Will gets shot in the shoulder.� I get the gun and I�m taking aim at Jarvis
when suddenly the other brother appears and shoots Will.� He starts shooting at me and I roll under the
tables.� He shoots the glass containers
and my arm and hands get cut up.� I shoot
him then his brother and then I try and help Will.�� His voice shook.� �It took a while for the ambulance to get
there but I did what I could.�

�I�m sure you did,� Alan said.

Don jumped to his feet and paced
back and forth.� He noticed Charlie�s
head drooping again, his eyelids heavy.�
Having a warm, snoring child on your lap must be very sleep inducing.

�It�s okay,� Don told him.� �Go to sleep.�
I�ll wake you up if there�s any news.�

�Okay,� Charlie said groggily and
closed his eyes.� He was soon fast
asleep.� Don continued to pace, envying
Charlie the oblivion of sleep.� Don was
feeling exhausted himself, but sleep was impossible.� He sat back down, next to Alan, and put his
head in his hands.� Alan put a hand on
his shoulder.

Suddenly it was all too much.� He looked up at his father.

�Dad?� Don said, his lower lip
trembling.� Alan reached out and gripped
his shoulder.� Don could feel the tears
behind his eyelids, tears he�d held back until now.� But the strain and fatigue was catching up
with him, and in this quiet room, with his father�s concerned face and warm hand,
the tears finally won.� �Dad,� his voice
cracked.� �They shot him in the head.�

He laid his cheek against his
father�s shoulder and sobbed like he hadn�t even when his mother had died, like
he hadn�t since he was a child.� His
father held him tight and rocked him, making soothing noises, and Don let it
all out.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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