Disclaimer: I'm telling you now and for the rest of the story. I don't own Numb3rs that's CBS. Don't own Wicked or Son of a Witch. Those are Gerry Maguires. So, there's that.

A/N: hey all, this is my second story so hope you like this one as well as the other one! On with the first chapter!

'Italicized indicates lines from the book(s)'

It was the first day of summer vacation and just about ten in the morning when Charlie made his way into the living room, armed with a glass of OJ and toast, bound and determined that he was going to do what he set out to do this summer: to get through at least two books that were non-math and non-school related. Novels.

Depositing his OJ on the coffee table and toast on the couch, he looked to the bookshelf for assistance. It didn't help much. Then he spied what looked to be two of his mom's old favorites that had missed being packed: Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West and the one after it, Son of a Witch.

"Huh, these might not be so bad…" Charlie picked up the first book, moved his breakfast, and sat on the couch. Opening to the first page, he was immediately hooked by the first sentence

'A mile above Oz, the Witch balanced herself on the winds forward edge…'

But after just a few hours and getting half way into the second section of the book, Gillikin, it had started to get a little cloudy, and Charlie decided that a little lamplight wouldn't hurt, especially not if he was reading a book as good as this.

He never saw it coming, but how was he supposed to?

Reaching over for the switch, he felt a shock like none other. Feeling like he had gotten hit by an eighteen wheeler, Charlie was thrown back against the opposite wall, and was out, never seeing the lamp shatter into a thousand deadly shards that embedded into his skin.

Hearing the commotion, Alan came flying down the stairs to see his youngest son lying on the floor in a crumpled and bloodied mess of glass and ceramic.

"Don!" Alan yelled franticly, "call 911! Charlie's been electrocuted!"

Don was down the stairs in an instant, cell phone in hand and assessing his brother, hoping against hope that he wasn't dead.

"He's got a pulse! It's faint but it's there." He responded to both his father and the dispatcher, and then nodded to the phone and hung up after giving her the address.

"Ambulance is going to be here soon dad, and I'm gonna go with Charlie, Megan is on her way so she can drive you there."

"I can drive myself there damnit!" Alan exclaimed, but Don shook his head reasonably, replying, " NO dad, we can't be having you wreck and then not be able to be there for Charlie, you just have to calm down ok? That's the best thing for him now." The sound of sirens could be heard then, and Alan flung open the door and then stood out of the doorway, hoping that his baby boy would make it to the hospital alive.

Charlie opened his eyes to find himself in the oddest of places, and he knew that he wasn't at home anymore. The bed that he was laying in was plush, but plain at the same time. The covers were white, like those of a hospital, but he knew that he wasn't in one, at least he wasn't in one in Los Angeles.

Trying to stand, he felt that he was bandaged in several places, and was very sore, not to mention the migraine that had chosen to settle behind his left eye.

"Where the hell am I?" he asked, but it came out as more of a groan. Luckily, there was someone there to answer him.

"Oh my, he's awake." A smaller woman in a smock stood over him, and Charlie realized that he definitely wasn't in LA

"Where am I?" he managed to mumble, and the woman's face clouded for a moment. "Why you're in the Emerald City of course. Where else would they bring a victim in your condition dear?"

'Oh fuck.' Was all Charlie could think of before he went into the darkness again.