A/N: this story won't be updated as much as the other one because most of the stuff involving the case is true and it hurts to remember.... which is why the kid has my name.
WARNING: Spoiler for Lost Son, violence, and slash...
Also, I don't own CSI: Miami. I sure as hell wish I do, but, alas, I do not. If I did, Speed wouldn't have died (so sad), Ryan would still have been hired (cheer), and Eric would be with Ryan cuz they're the hottest couple EVER! Since Speed is dead (cry cry cry) and Ryan and Eric aren't together (cry cry cry), I must not own CSI: Miami.
Have fun reading and reviews are very loved! ~Callum (smiley face)

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There was a pang in Eric Delko's heart when he saw the boy sitting with his back to one of the Hummer's tires. He seemed underweight and couldn't have possibly been over fifteen. His jean-clad knees where brought up to his chest and his arms where wrapped tightly around them to hold them in place. Although it was nearly ninety degrees outside, he was wearing a black hoodie that had bones on it in the right spots. He had short blond hair with black roots, but he wore a dark brown beanie that covered it up. Said beanie had a bill that was pulled down low to hide striking cyan eyes that showed how hard he was struggling not to cry.

"Cal," Eric called, dashing to the boy's side. "Callum, are you okay?" The boy looked up in confusion at the Cuban man standing to his right.

"What are you doing here, Eric?" he whispered. He tried hard to keep the pain out of his voice.

"I'm a CSI, Cal. It's what I do. What are you doing here?" Cal took several deep breaths before glancing over to the crime scene.

"My dad and Benji…" Tears streaked down his pale face and he made no move to wipe them away. "They're dead. They were shot… My parents are dead, Eric." Eric sat down next to Cal and hugged him against his chest for a moment.

"It's going to be okay, Cal. We're gonna get this guy and he's going to pay for it." The boy wiped his eyes and shook his head.

"You're not going to be allowed to do anything, Eric. I know how this works. My mother named you as my godfather, remember? I'm a victim. You'll be kicked off the case for sure." Cal took another breath and leaned close to Eric. "I need to tell somebody, but I don't know if I can." Eric's eyes went wide with worry.

"Tell someone what? Are you hurt?"

A lone tear escaped Cal's eye as he whispered, "He tried to make me …." Cal took a deep breath and started over. "He tried to rape me."

"What?" Eric yelped, jumped to his feet, and then lowered his tone drastically. "He did what?!"

"I won't say it twice. He didn't do it, though. Heard the sirens and…" He pointed down the street where the perp had gotten away on a motorcycle. "When Timmy… you know. I saw the guy's gun and now I can't get it out of my head." Cal hit his head repeatedly on the tire he was leaning against. "I just see him getting shot and I couldn't do anything… It's playing on repeat, Eric, it won't stop!"

"Cal. Callum, look at me. What happened that day, that wasn't your fault, do you hear me?" Eric grabbed the boy's shoulder and shook it slightly. "You couldn't have stopped that, Callum!"

"You're wrong," he whispered, shaking his head furiously. "How many times have I kept after you to clean your gun? And Tim was like… Your best friend. I saw him often enough, I could have kept after him too. But I didn't. I didn't and he's dead because his gun wasn't cleaned properly and I could have stopped that from happening!"

"Callum, don't say that. You know that's not true!" Eric was practically yelling, but Cal didn't hear him.

"I could have saved his life. I could've warned him or… There was a gun next to me. I could have given him that one, but I froze up. I could have done something… I didn't, and it's my fault he's dead. Him, Benji, and my dad… They're all dead and I didn't do anything to stop it."

"Cal, look at me. Stop talking and look at me." Slowly, the teen obliged. His normally bright eyes were dull and empty as tears ran down his cheeks once more. "What happened is not your fault. You couldn't have saved Benji and you couldn't have saved Marcus."

"And Tim? I could've stopped that, and you know it!"

"Cal! You were twelve. You had a gun pointed at your head. If you had tried to give Speed the gun, you would've been shot between the eyes. Speed would have still died. You can't blame yourself for what happened. Ever. It's not your fault. You're innocent, okay? None of this is your fault."