Hello Lovelies. I decided to write a Loker fanfiction. I feel like there's a lot of Callian out there, but not a lot about Loker and Torres. I haven't decided if I want them to get involved in this fic, (I kinda ship Loker and Emily, don't hate me!) so leave your thoughts in the reviews.

Yesterday was my birthday. (19, yay I'm old lol) It was kind of a hard day for me. I never thought I'd make it to 19. I planned to kill myself long before then. Buuut here I am. Not sure if it's a good thing. I have a lot of decisions to make, and things to do that wouldn't be an issue if I'd just off myself.

Soooo instead of actually killing myself, here I am writing a suicide fanfiction for Loker. You're welcome.

PS: Thanks to all of you who left reviews on my other stories, especially stevieLUVSAlex. :)


"I don't pay you people to sit on your arses. Go on, bring in the next witness." Dr. Lightman berated his employees.

Eli Loker sighed. It was going to be another long day. He remembered a time when he used to enjoy this job. He remembered a time when he actually looked up to Cal Lightman. Now he recognized that the man was just a bully.

"Loker,"

He looked up as Lightman kicked his chair.

"Coffee. Now."

Annoyed, he pressed his lips into a thin line. Was he nothing more than a glorified errand boy?

"Watch your attitude!" Lightman said in a sing-song voice as he walked out of the lab.

"He is insufferable," Torres muttered. "I don't know how you've managed to work for him all these years."

"Me neither." Loker replied as he rose to get the coffee.

He couldn't live like this anymore. The only thing keeping him going was the job, and everyone here treated him like a joke. He was all alone. His life was falling apart. He was literally living out of his car. He'd been evicted from his apartment a week ago. He was spending all his money on alcohol. He knew he was an alcoholic, but he didn't really care. It was his way of coping.

He arrived at Dr. Lightman's office with the coffee. "Here. Now if you don't mind, I have a job to do," He set the cup down and turned to walk out.

"Oi, coffee's for you, mate."

"What?" Loker spun around, confused.

"A bloody fool could tell that you're hung-over. You've been coming into work either like this, or actually drunk, for the past week."

Loker looked at the ground. He hadn't been hiding it very well at all.

"This is a warning. Next time it'll be your job," Lightman cautioned. "Now get back to work."

Loker numbly made his way back to the lab.

"You forgot to give Lightman his coffee." Torres said with amusement as Loker sunk back into his chair.

"Nope," He took a sip. "It's for me."

"What, Lightman bought you coffee?" Torres asked incredulously.

"No, he made me buy myself coffee."

"This is because you're drunk, isn't it?" Torres accused, understanding now.

"I'm not drunk, I'm hung-over. There's a difference."

Torres snorted. "Whatever."

"Has everyone noticed?"

She laughed, "You work with human lie detectors, Loker. Did you really think you could hide it from us?" Torres shook her head. "You're dumber than you look sometimes."

Loker hid a smile behind the cup of coffee. They didn't know his biggest secret.


Dr. Lightman pulled Torres into his office later that afternoon. He wasted no time with small talk. "I need you to keep an eye on Loker," He told her.

"What?" She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Bloody hell, you people are useless. Have you not noticed how he's been lately?"

"You mean his drinking problem?"

"And everything else. He's coming to work in wrinkled clothes, and I bet he showers maybe once every three days, if we're lucky."

Torres wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Well yeah, but that's his problem."

"Not if it affects the way he does his job,"

Torres saw right through him. "You're worried about him, aren't you?"

"Nonsense. Couldn't care less about the wanker." He pushed her out of his office. "I'm serious though, keep an eye out for the lad."


The rest of the day was one long blur. Loker was dying to go to the bar after work, but he knew that one drink would turn into five drinks, and he wouldn't be able to stop. Oh well. What was the point? He couldn't do his job without the alcohol, but if he kept drinking, he would be fired. There was no way to win.

He couldn't fight the darkness anymore.


Torres watched Loker grow increasingly quiet as the day went on. It was like he wasn't even trying to hide his fragile mental state anymore. After work, she followed him at a distance. She drove behind him, making sure that his car was always at least three cars in front of hers.

She tailed him to a pharmacy, and watched as he spent only ten minutes inside. He came out with a huge sack of...something. Whatever it was, he knew exactly what he was looking for. Torres followed him to the local bar, not surprised. But instead of going in, Loker just sat there. He turned his car off, but didn't get out.

She waited there for twenty minutes. What the hell? Growing impatient, she got out of her car and walked over to his.

She stopped a few feet from his window and stared in shock. The bag from the pharmacy was sitting on the passenger seat. It was full of pills. Ibuprofen, Tylenol, cold medicine, you name it. Four of the bottles were already empty...

Loker was smiling as he downed another handful of pills with a swig of Vodka.

Torres panicked and pulled his door open. "What the hell, Loker?" She yelled.

His unfocused eyes met hers. "Hi, Ria," He grinned drunkenly. His dark curls were damp with sweat, and he looked sick.

"I'm calling 911." She said, pulling out her phone.

"Noooo, please don't," He slurred. "I'm done. Can I be done? I'm done."

"Done with what, Eli? Life?" She knocked the bottle of Vodka out of his hand and it shattered on the asphalt at her feet. "You can't be done with life."

"Please..." He whispered.

How had she missed the signs? The bags under his tired, lifeless eyes; the constant drinking. He'd even stopped arguing with Lightman.

"No. I'm not letting you kill yourself." She held his hand as she dialed 9-1-1.


Lightman was in Dr. Foster's office, arguing with her about their financial situation when his phone rang. Torres.

"Sorry, love. Gotta take this." He put the phone to his ear. "Torres. What's going on with our favorite alcoholic?"

"He...he's.." Her words were halting, and he could hear her breathing heavily. It sounded like she was hyperventilating.

"Ria, calm down. What's happened?" He asked, a sense of dread filling him.

Gillian looked at him nervously. He didn't call his employees by their first name unless something was really wrong.

"Eli...he...he tried to kill himself."

Lightman almost dropped the phone. "He what?"

Gillian watched with concern as her partner suddenly became very pale. "What's going on?"

"I could have stopped it, I was right there!" Torres choked out.

"It's not your fault, love." Lightman attempted to console her. "Now what hospital are you at?"


Lightman and Foster arrived at the hospital in record time. They met Torres outside of the ICU. "How is he?" Lightman asked quietly.

"He'll be okay." Torres said. "Physically at least. They pumped his stomach and there's no permanent damage to his internal organs." She began to cry again. "If I had waited five minutes longer..."

Gillian hugged her. "It's okay, you couldn't have known. You got there in time, he'll be okay. That's all that matters now."

Lightman looked through the ICU window. Loker lay unconscious in a hospital bed, looking very pale and weak. He'd noticed Loker losing weight, but hadn't realized how frail the young man had become. "Have they contacted his family?"

Torres looked sad. "He doesn't have one. His parents are both dead, and he's an only child."

Lightman was surprised. "Cousins? Friends? Anyone?"

Torres shook her head. "He's kind of a loner. We're all he's got."

No wonder Loker tried to kill himself. Cal thought, feeling very guilty. We're all he has, and I'm awful to the kid. He resolved to be a better support to Loker when this was all over.

A doctor walked over to them. "Excuse me, are you here for Eli Loker?"

"Yes," Cal replied. "How's it looking, Doc?"

"Physically he'll be all right. This young lady got there right in time." He gestured to Torres. "If she hadn't been there, he would likely be dead."

Torres put a hand over her mouth and continued to cry quietly. She looked guilty. As did Gillian. If he could see his own face, Cal knew that guilt would be written all over his features as well. It wasn't their fault. Torres and Foster had nothing to do with it. Cal blamed himself. He was cruel and rude to everyone, Loker in particular.

He needed to change.


Loker woke from strange dreams of Ria Torres holding his hand, and a foreign, snake-like object being forced down his throat. He became aware of hospital monitors beeping steadily, and someone crying. He groaned and struggled to open his eyes. The crying stopped, and he felt someone grab his hand.

"Eli,"

He blinked, and squinted. The light was so bright...

"He's awake!"

Ria. She was so beautiful. She looked like an angel. "Am I dead?" He croaked.

"No, but you gave it your best shot."

Lightman was here? He turned towards his boss's voice, and sure enough, there was his mentor. Foster stood beside him, looking equally concerned. They all looked so guilty. Worried, he could understand. But guilty?

Suddenly he realized that he had failed. He couldn't succeed at anything, not even dying. "Nah, my best shot would've been with a gun. Guess we learn from our mistakes, huh?" He tried to smile.

A flash of anger crossed Lightman's face. "Well this is a mistake you won't be making again. In any way, shape, or form. I'm not gonna let you die."

Loker shut his eyes. "Whatever." He was tired. He knew he would be kept in observation for a while, but as soon as they let him go, he would try again. And this time he wouldn't fail.


I have soooo much to do. I wanna just sit here and write fanfiction all day, but I'm overwhelmed with too much stuff. -_- I will update later. Thanks for reading! What do you think? Should I write another chapter?