Chapter Text
The Math Doesn't Always Help
by IrenaAdler
It was the day after Nena's seventh birthday and Charlie couldn't stop thinking. True, he'd had trouble stopping thinking since he'd been born, but it was usually about math or the universe or something else. Now he couldn't stop thinking about children. Or child, rather. A child. Singular. His child.
Charlie sighed and picked up a piece of chalk. He had to get this figured out. Colby had been patient with his distraction, but was starting to get concerned. Charlie hadn't told Colby what he'd been obsessing about. How could he when he didn't understand it himself? Charlie started an equation to describe his life on the farthest left of all the chalkboards in his garage and set out.
First, to define `child'.
Nena had been wonderful to see grow the last two years and he considered her his stepdaughter, but he couldn't help but wonder about her first five years. What had she been like? What had been her first word, first sentence? Had she crawled or rolled? Who had been there when she took her first steps? Babies still scared him, but he was more used to them now. He'd gotten quite comfortable with Ojas, Amita's baby boy.
Then, to describe his life in a neat, orderly schema, taking into account each significant aspect at a time.
Why would he want to mess with his good life? Everything was settled, happy. Colby was wonderful – they'd gotten officially married last year when California had legalized it. Then the federal government had unlegalized it and put their marriage in legal limbo, but it didn't matter. They knew they were married. Colby was finally comfortable and in tune with the FBI team again. It had taken a long time to come back from that Janus List nightmare, a time of Charlie's life that he'd prefer to forget. But things were good at the FBI now. David and Don had recovered as well and the team was as tight as ever, tighter even, and Charlie was part of that team. Don had been offered promotion twice but had passed it by, concerned that he'd turn into a desk jockey. David too had passed over a promotion that involved him going to San Diego. He'd said he was an LA boy and he was staying. Megan had taken her promotion, but she still worked in the same office and Charlie saw her regularly when Larry came over to the house. Larry had very slowly worked his way back into the real world and had found Megan there waiting for him. They seemed happy. Now Don's team had a new fourth member – Matt-don't-call-me-Mattie. She was as different from Megan as it was possible to be, but somehow she worked out. It was an open secret that she and David were seeing each other outside the office.
Next, quantify other important relationships.
Don and Will were doing great as well. Especially now that Will wasn't doing as much dangerous undercover work. He still did, sometimes, just to keep his skills sharp, but he'd found a second calling as a teacher to young DEA recruits. A lot of what made Will good at undercover was instinctual, but Will managed to convey a lot of it to his students. He was proud that none of his students had been killed in the line of duty, yet. Don and Will had gotten married too, during that brief period of legality, and for a wedding present, Will's parents – well, Will's dad – had sold them Will's house for cheap. Will had promptly remodeled the kitchen to something a gourmet chef would admire and Don had built a solarium. They now had a second Maine Coon, Dragon, who was five pounds lighter than Monster but twice as much trouble. They were helping Billy Cooper build a house out in the woods, but weren't telling anyone where.
Followed by environmental variables.
Charlie's home life was pleasantly chaotic. Alan's consulting work had taken off and he seemed happier than he had since Charlie's mom had died. Alan even had a steady girlfriend, though he'd claim they were just good friends … with benefits – something Charlie tried not to think about. Nena's mother, Jenny, also had a friend with benefits, but this one had moved in with Jenny and didn't really like kids. Consequently, Nena's time with Colby had continually increased, until they had her, at the moment, approximately 73% of the time, though she was in school now, as well. Every day she seemed to get smarter and more wonderful – more stubborn too.
Add relevant experiential data.
Amita and her Physics Department husband had just had their baby boy eight months ago. Charlie was pleased that he and Amita were finally good friends again, now that they had their own strong relationships. Charlie had found it fascinating to follow little Ojas's progress and, though Amita didn't really appreciate it, note where Ojas was `ahead' or `behind.' Charlie and Colby had even babysat Ojas once, and Charlie had managed to change his diaper without vomiting, though just barely.
… And in conclusion we have …
Charlie stared at the four chalkboards he'd filled up with numbers. The conclusion of the math was, quite inescapably, that even thinking about adding a second child to his life, let alone a baby, was sheer lunacy.
But, still …
Charlie dropped the chalk with a tired sigh. He hadn't been able to sleep well since this problem had started nagging at him. He sank into the battered popasan chair and gazed vacantly towards the ceiling. He let his mind wander, hoping for something useful from his unconscious, though he hated the mushiness of psychology.
If Nena had taught him one thing, it was that logic and rationality weren't always relevant when it came to kids. `Charlie, get out of your brain sometimes,' she'd say. `Think with your nose or your fingers or your right kidney.' If he told her that that was impossible, she'd reply, `That's the point!' But he should make life decisions with his brain … right? Not with his heart, which for some reason longed for a child of his own like the answer to all of the impossible math questions ever asked.
All his life he'd been accused of being selfish, self-centered, often with cause. Was it self-centered to want a baby that shared his genes? Or did he just want a baby? Men didn't have a `biological clock,' did they? And of all people, Charlie Eppes was not the sort to raise a child. He'd forget about feeding time while he was in the middle of an interesting problem. He could hardly remember to feed and clothe himself, how did he expect to do so for someone else, someone helpless without him?
Tired and frustrated that his heart refused to acknowledge that his brain had just proved it was a bad idea, Charlie closed his eyes.
His mother walked around the corner of the chalkboard. "It's about time you slept, honey," she said.
"Mom," Charlie said hoarsely. "Tell me what to do?"
"You know I can't do that," Margaret said with a warm smile. She pushed a lock of hair away from his face. Her touch was so real.
"I wasn't sure I ever wanted kids, myself," she continued quietly. "And perhaps the decision to go ahead and do so wasn't rational, but I regretted it for maybe two seconds altogether of the rest of my life. Kids aren't for everyone and I know in your life that you've seen many people that should never have had kids. God knows I saw that in the courtroom. Maybe instead of thinking about what bringing a child into your life would do to your world, think about what you have to offer to a child."
Charlie frowned thoughtfully.
"And Charlie," Margaret said with gentle reproach. "You're not the only one in this decision. You should talk to your husband."
Charlie stared up at her, unable to ask the question lodged in his throat.
"Yes, honey," she said, her smile as warm as the afternoon sun. "I like Colby a lot. He's a wonderful man and I'm very happy for you."
"I'm glad," Charlie said and opened his eyes to sunlight streaking across his chalkboards. The sunlight chopped up the equations, forming new and bright patterns out of the math of his life.
Charlie pushed himself out of the chair and went to talk to Colby.
end