Title: Retribution
By: Jessica
Pairing: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: T
Timeline: Postseason seven.
Summary: Justice is societal. Revenge is personal.
A/N: For Calleigh, this is not my favorite genre of fic, and I do know that there is a certain amount of scrutiny that comes with putting her in a situation such as this. However, this is a fic that was begging to be written right after the finale, and I can only hope that I can do it justice. Thanks for reading. :)
/1/
It had been hours since the last sliver of daylight had faded into the horizon, but for Calleigh Duquesne, the physical manifestation of darkness finally matched the emotions she'd battled for the greater part of the afternoon. The shadows that danced menacingly along the walls of the locker room were unfazed by the low flicker of the fluorescent bulbs overhead, dying lights that offered only a cold, unwelcoming illumination to the room's sole occupant. Alone she sat on the bench, having all but collapsed there after weakly pushing her way through the door.
She was the picture of dejection; a darkened, dreary deviation from her usual sunny disposition. Her shoulders slumped as a deep sigh of frustration escaped her lips, for a moment letting down the falsely strengthened façade she'd struggled to hold up for most of the day. Head bowed, she rubbed tiredly at her scratchy eyes, pushing back the burn of both exhaustion and unshed tears. Every part of her body ached with that exhaustion; it was all-consuming and overwhelming, and were it not for that, there was no way Calleigh would've stepped away from the case at hand, not even for a second.
But it had become too much to carry as the sun had set – the pain, the confusion, the sheer guilt eating away at her. She'd needed a quiet moment; a few minutes away from the bustling interior of the lab – so much more active than she might've usually found it at night. If there was anything that could bring together the ranks within like nothing else, it was the loss – possible loss, she corrected herself immediately – of one of their own. Just the thought left her shivering, on the one hand grateful for such a sudden influx of lab techs and officers, all of them overcome with the need to find Eric.
On the other hand, it was almost too much for her to handle. Calleigh was almost certain she was imagining it, but she could almost feel the scrutiny of so many pairs of eyes upon her, almost as if they knew all about her and Eric. And maybe they did – that wasn't the important thing now, though. Still, it left her anxious, almost as though she were suffocating – again. She'd needed to get away for just a moment, just long enough to regain her strength; she just needed a moment to breathe, to think.
She'd planned to take a quick shower, hoping the hot water would wash away the sticky feeling of failure, but her body simply would not comply. She couldn't rise from the uncomfortable bench; could only think about stepping into the shower, and Calleigh was so emotionally drained that she wasn't even sure she could stand if she were to make it that far.
And it seemed so futile, anyway. A time waster. And the seconds were ticking by faster than ever – there was no time that could be wasted. Every second that passed was another second that Eric was missing – in the clutches of the Russian mob, lost somewhere in the Everglades, perhaps bleeding out from a gunshot wound.
Calleigh shuddered. The evidence was stacking against the tiny glimmer of hope she'd once had. After all, even with a moving target, Calleigh knew she was a damn good shot. And upon returning to the lab, Calleigh had put a rush order on the processing of evidence from the abandoned car they'd found – though Sharova had insisted against it, some of the blood had been Eric's. DNA didn't lie, no matter how much Valera had wished it would – she'd run it four times just to make sure. It was irrefutable.
Eric was out there, somewhere, with a wound that may or may not prove fatal – a wound that may or may not have been inflicted by Calleigh's own gun. His blood, her hands. The thought brought a fresh rush of guilt over her, leaving her even more unsettled and barely hanging on. All thoughts of a shower dismissed, Calleigh merely leaned forward, her head in her hands nearly at the level of her knees as she fought off the sudden wave of nausea that threatened to consume her.
When last she'd seen him, she'd had a gun on him, his hardened eyes meeting hers in an unreadable gaze. For that one moment, all time had frozen. The firefight seemed to cease, otherwise deafening shots fading into pure, untouched silence. The officers, the Russians, even Ryan who had just been in her peripheral vision all just seemed to disappear.
Calleigh.
Eric.
In that frozen moment, two souls were all that existed. Their eyes met, an unbreakable connection of heartache and betrayal that spanned the distance between them. Calleigh could think of no other moment she'd been more stunned – in the midst of the firefight, she'd frozen completely, an open target. The science of ballistics had trained her to expect anything, to react to everything in a way that would guarantee the most safety to herself and those around her. But not even the most in-depth training could've prepared her for the block of icy nausea that settled in her stomach as she found herself staring directly into the eyes of the man she cared most deeply for; the eyes of a good man who had become a fugitive.
Without warning, her heart clenched so tightly that Calleigh was left struggling for breath. She'd suppressed it as best as she could, but now as she sat alone with only her thoughts to accompany her, Calleigh couldn't deny how much it truly hurt. In the back of her mind, she chided herself for what seemed a rather selfish line of thinking, at least to her. How many times in the past had she dropped everything to run to her father when he'd needed her help?
But part of her couldn't help but feel that this was completely different. Eric had known his father for all of a few months at the most – certainly not his entire life. Did he even know if he could trust the man? How could anybody know, with only that much time? Desperately Calleigh tried to ignore the pang of jealousy that struck her – Eric had known her for over seven years, and her worries, her concerns had meant nothing to him. He trusted her less than a man he'd only just met.
Circumstances aside, that hurt more than she would ever be willing to admit.
Abruptly Calleigh was broken away from her silent despair by the opening of the door, the sound deafening to her tired ears. Though startled, she didn't bother to look up, simply hoping that whoever it was would leave her alone. She wasn't much in the mood for company. She wanted to be alone; she wanted nobody to see her like this, so detached from her usual picture of calm. But much to her dismay, the closing of the door did not lead once more into silence, but was merely a prelude to the sound of approaching footsteps.
Before he even spoke, Calleigh knew in an instant who it was. He'd had her back at the scene; had been the one she'd been able to trust with her life when the one she'd always trusted before had seemingly betrayed her. Though he could be a bit of a nuisance at times, his friendship was one that Calleigh had truly grown to treasure. But despite this, he still wasn't anybody that Calleigh wanted to see at the moment, and he certainly wasn't someone that she wanted inviting himself to take a seat beside of her.
But that was exactly what he did, and if he noticed the sudden stiffening of Calleigh's body beside him, he gave no indication of it. Like Calleigh, he leaned forward, though his eyes were to the side, toward Calleigh rather than toward the floor, obscured by the palms that covered them. Quietly he cleared his throat, hesitating for a moment as though all he'd meant to say had suddenly disappeared.
The moment of hesitation was all Calleigh needed. Seizing it for all it was, Calleigh spoke first, her words quiet and somewhat muffled. "Did you find anything?"
It had been merely moments since she herself had been in the lab, but Ryan wasn't surprised by the inquiry. He'd been a part of the day shift for four years; he liked to think he knew his teammates pretty well. He'd watched Eric parade through scores of women – they'd always just flocked to him, and he'd loved every second of it; at least, he had until a bullet had found its way into his brain. After that, those scores of women abruptly scattered – they still flocked to him, but for about the past two years, Ryan knew that there was only one woman that Eric's eyes were seeing, and she was currently sitting on the bench next to him, her head in her hands.
He'd watched her as well – knew the brief flirtation that had existed between her and the agent from the Federal Reserve. He'd known there was history between Calleigh and Detective Hagen, but Ryan knew little beyond that. The only other relationship he'd witnessed her in was with Jake Berkeley, and while even that had seemed pretty serious, even Ryan could tell that there was something brewing at the time between Calleigh and Eric.
What he hadn't realized at the time was just how potent that something was. What they shared with each other was unlike anything they had shared separately with anyone else; that much was clear to Ryan. The possibility of Eric being dead, possibly by her own bullet, could be doing no less than absolutely ripping Calleigh's heart to shreds, and Ryan found himself completely at a loss. There was very, very little he could do when he wanted to do anything to make her smile again.
A joke like he'd casually made in the garage earlier after witnessing her argument with Eric would be utterly distasteful now, leaving Ryan with only one option – answering her question, even though he knew she already knew the answer. "Nothing new," he murmured finally, surprised at the scratchiness in his own voice. "Sharova's not talking, and Natalia's still trying to find a match on those extra prints we found on the car door, but there's nothing yet."
Before Calleigh could reply, Ryan cut her off, answering the question he knew was on her mind again. "No bullet in the car, either."
"That just means it wasn't a through-and-through," she breathed, concentrating with all she had on the steady intake of oxygen. If she fixed her mind upon that, maybe the emotions would be easier to stave off.
"Or," Ryan began, his voice a little louder than necessary – he didn't care, though. He couldn't let Calleigh think that way. "Maybe you didn't even hit him at all. Maybe the bullet you think you hit him with is in that set still waiting to be analyzed, the bullets recovered from the scene of the actual shootout."
Analysis. Processing evidence. The words hit Calleigh abruptly, leaving her with a new sense of guilt over the break she'd taken. "I – I should get to that," she replied distractedly, finally lifting her head. "I should get back to work…"
"What you should do is go home," Ryan corrected softly, hesitating for only a second before laying a comforting hand at her back. "You've been here all day; as far as I know, this is the very first break you've taken. You should've been off hours ago." He paused, watching as Calleigh quickly shook her head in protest. "You should get some rest."
Shaking her head again, Calleigh lifted her hands, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I can't, Ryan," she breathed, her voice bearing more strength than she herself actually possessed at the moment – she'd always been good at that. "There's too much to be done."
"And plenty of people here to do it," Ryan insisted. "Trust me; between our shift and the night shift, the lab is more than covered. I only wish this many people would show up to help if it were me missing." The quip coaxed a ghost of a smile from Calleigh's lips, and though it was only fleeting, it reassured Ryan, even if only slightly. Offering her a comforting smile of his own, Ryan gently rubbed her back in small circles, trying to console her any way he knew how. "Cal, I know this is beyond difficult for you," he said softly, part of him wishing for the retort he knew wouldn't come.
Instead, she merely shrugged, her eyes staring blankly ahead. Ryan couldn't remember ever seeing Calleigh like this before; so lost, so fragile, so alone. It tugged at his own heart, and Ryan resolved right then that whatever it took, they would find Eric. Calleigh couldn't lose him – she'd hidden it well earlier, but as the physical and emotional toll of the day had weighed her down, the truth had become clear to Ryan. "Go home, Cal," he reiterated, squeezing her shoulder. "You need the rest."
For a fleeting moment, there was the Calleigh Duquesne that he knew, inflexible and stubborn when it came to choosing between her own needs and a particularly draining case. "You're still here," she pointed out, glancing to him for just a second, but long enough for Ryan to perceive the glint of challenge in her eyes – she was going to dare him to tell her to go home.
Ryan sighed deeply, offering her shoulder another reassuring squeeze. "That's different and you know it," he said simply, choosing not to state the obvious – that her connection with Eric was far greater, far more significant. He paused, allowing the heavy silence between them to rule for just a moment. "I know you want to find him, Calleigh. I want to find him too. But you're still my friend, and I have to look out for you, too. We can't lose you both."
Calleigh gave a rueful chuckle, the noise sounding foreign to her own ears. "You sound like Horatio."
Ryan allowed himself a brief smirk. "So imagine I'm him – imagine I'm threatening to remove you from the case as a whole." Calleigh gave a halfhearted glare, though in her eyes Ryan could see she was beginning to relent. "You're too close to him, Calleigh," he added, his voice hushed. "You want to find him above all else, but Calleigh, you're not going to be any help to him at all if you don't get yourself some rest."
The words carried a harsh truth to Calleigh's ears; it was something she'd told families of missing persons many a time before. And every time, it had been true. "I don't know if I can sleep tonight," she admitted, leaving Ryan floored by her sudden open honesty. His mouth opened, but no words he possessed seemed worthy of following such a deep admission. A few moments passed, and with a few deep, steadying breaths, in typical Calleigh fashion she appeared to pull herself together right before his eyes, at least on the surface. He could see in her eyes that the turmoil remained. "Maybe – maybe I should get out of here for a couple of hours, at least…"
Ryan gave a reassuring smile. "Calleigh, I promise if something happens while you're gone, you'll be the first to know."
Calleigh nodded slowly. Going home was the last thing she wanted to do, and she knew there was no way she could sleep in her bed tonight, but her body cried out for rest. She couldn't stay here; she was afraid she'd lose it if she tried. No case had ever been so personal before; none had ever rocked her to the core the way this one had.
And it wasn't just because she felt the blame rested upon her own shoulders. Even if there didn't exist the possibility that she'd hit him, it was still Eric. Her Eric. Again Calleigh shuddered, standing abruptly before Ryan could feel the trembling of her body. Shaking her head, she gestured lightly toward the door before busying herself with retrieving her purse from her locker. "I think I will go…"
But before she could make a move toward the door, Ryan softly called her name, stopping her in her tracks. "Calleigh."
He caught her hand, not releasing it until he too had stood, his body facing hers. For the first time, Calleigh met his eyes, finding within a similar desperation, a comparable helplessness, though his feelings came from the need to find a missing friend, a colleague – not someone he cared about so deeply that he thought his life might end without him. A quick shudder rushed through Calleigh – did she really think about Eric like that? As though without him her life might no longer be worth living?
She was saved from answering her own question as Ryan murmured her name, hesitating for only a second before pulling her into the embrace she so desperately needed, but wouldn't have asked for. His arms held her tightly, and Calleigh felt her own slowly snake around him. It wasn't the same as Eric, though, and Calleigh squeezed her eyes tightly shut, feeling the distinct sting of tears once more. She breathed in deeply, fighting them back, her exhausted body gratefully latching to the strength that Ryan offered.
Closing his own eyes, Ryan pressed a gentle kiss to her head. It was killing him to see her, his friend, like this, but he was little more than helpless – he knew the only thing he could do to help her was finding Eric. "We'll find him, Calleigh. I promise."
Calleigh nodded, shoving away the lingering voice that plagued her mind, the one that left her sickened with the dreadful words that echoed in her mind: maybe not alive. Ignoring it as best as she could, Calleigh gave a heavy sigh and pulled herself from Ryan's embrace, meeting his concerned eyes for only a brief second. "Thanks, Ryan," she murmured, a faint smile at her lips.
Ryan smiled, stepping to the side to allow her to pass. "You'd do the same for me," he replied, recalling similar words she'd offered him after a day that felt like a lifetime ago. With an answering nod, Calleigh quietly made her way to the door, hearing once more the quiet promise Ryan had given her.
They would find him. They had to.
..
The night air seemed uncharacteristically cool for this time of year, but Calleigh made no effort to discern whether or not it was only in her head. The brisk breeze from the sea left goosebumps along her bare arms as she swiftly made her way to her car, the need to escape overtaking her in an abrupt rush of emotion. She needed to get out of there, even if her only avenue of escape would take her home, to sheets and blankets and pillows saturated with the scent of him. The thought sent another shiver racing through her body, but Calleigh wasted no energy in trying to fight it. She knew deep down that there was nothing that would chase away the ghostly chill within her – nothing but the warmth of Eric's arms. Knowing he was safe and sound, hearing his voice and feeling his arms wrap around her…that was what it would take to warm her again.
Her mind lost in a daze, Calleigh slowly opened the door to her car and slipped inside, her actions on autopilot as she closed the door and lightly tossed her bag in the passenger seat. Closing her eyes for a moment, she simply breathed. In and out, in and out; the steady motion offered her a bit of reassurance, if only for the lingering scent of Eric's cologne that it brought to her.
Yawning despite herself, Calleigh tucked her hair behind her ears and reached once more for her keys, feeling somewhat torn. She'd told Ryan she would go home, but leaving right now felt like her very own betrayal; it felt almost as though she were giving up. That was exactly the kind of thinking she couldn't let herself fall victim to, and with a deep sigh, she reached for her seat belt and quickly pulled it across, locking it into place.
The feelings she'd experienced through the entire day, both emotional and physical, had washed over her in an indecipherable fog. There was just way too much she couldn't begin to process, and definitely not in her current state of physical and emotional fatigue.
Her emotions might've been all over the place. Her physical responses – the chills, the trembling, the nausea – were far beyond the realm of her understanding as well.
But though there was so little that her troubled mind could process, there was no mistaking the sudden sensation of cool metal at her temple. Thousands of warnings from safety pamphlets and other women and even old safety guidelines posted up around her dorm way back in college suddenly came back to her; suggestions she had never really thought twice about suddenly flooded her mind, haunting her, taunting her for never really bothering to check her backseat upon getting in the car.
Her heart skipped a beat, though Calleigh fought desperately to remain calm – it wasn't the first time she'd had a gun to her head, but that didn't make it any less terrifying. She heard the rustling in the seat behind her, felt his breath against her cheek as he spoke, and her heart dropped to the level of her stomach as his thick, roughened Russian accent washed over her. "Hands on the wheel, right now. No sudden moves; got it?" Calleigh stared straight ahead, hesitating out of defiance.
He gave a low growl, roughly shoving the gun against her temple. "I have no reason to kill you, but I swear to God if you try anything, it will be the last thing you ever try." Without speaking, Calleigh obeyed with lightly trembling hands, gripping the wheel with a white-knuckled grasp. "Good girl," he purred, and Calleigh shuddered, feeling his free hand paw its way around the seat to her waist. Unclipping her cell from her belt, and satisfied that she had nothing else on her, he unceremoniously snatched her purse. Calleigh bit hard at her lip, knowing that her gun and her handcuffs were contained within, but attempting to calm herself with the realization that she had very little cash on hand, and that most of her cards could be cancelled with very little effort. The bright side was dim, but the moment Calleigh lost sight of that completely was the moment she lost all hope – for her own life, and for Eric's.
Unfortunately, if this man was Russian mob, and Calleigh was almost certain that he was, it wasn't her money that he was after. Training her ears, Calleigh heard the quiet click of her wallet opening, followed by the telltale rustling of the contents within. Lifting her eyes to the rearview mirror, she watched surreptitiously as the man bypassed all of the money and her credit cards; instead his fingers reached directly for her driver's license, removing it along with the photo behind it.
It was a photograph taken not too long ago, a candid photo of a moment before she and Eric were together. Taken by Alexx, she'd managed to capture something that Calleigh suspected the other woman had always known to be there. It was a moment frozen in time, one that Calleigh treasured enough to carry everywhere, and to see it in the hands of a man who wished nothing good upon her or Eric made her blood run cold. Gathering the strength she had left, Calleigh steeled her voice, her words icy as they left her lips. "Look, you can have whatever you want, okay? I won't fight – you can take whatever you want and go."
The man grinned triumphantly, placing the photograph back into her wallet before lifting his eyes to the rearview mirror. He met Calleigh's gaze, his grin widening as she stared unwaveringly back. "Anything I want, huh?" he breathed, leaning forward once more, his face mere millimeters from her cheek. Calleigh swallowed, her hands still clutching the wheel. It was becoming ever clear that he wasn't going to simply take what he wanted and go, like she'd suggested. She could feel his eyes raking over her, and for the first time, Calleigh felt her control waver.
She'd lived this once before – she knew what was going to happen. Though she tried to fight the memories back, she lacked the strength necessary – suddenly, she felt as though she were reliving her kidnapping from over a year ago. Those were memories she'd forced away, unwilling to linger on them, and after that night that Eric had stayed with her, she'd never spoken of it again – she just couldn't. She'd refused to deal with the aftermath.
And now, those memories would not be suppressed. Her heart pounded against her chest, and it was all Calleigh could do to keep her breathing steady. Every instinct told her to open the car door and run, to not by any means let herself end up in that same situation again – she'd been lucky once, but how lucky could she possibly be a second time?
With a smirk, her Russian captor slipped his hand slowly down to her lap, retrieving the keys she'd dropped in shock just moments before. "Whatever I want…" he repeated, and Calleigh felt her stomach turn at the feel of his breath against her skin. Reaching forward, he held her keys out until Calleigh brought a trembling hand away from the wheel to grasp them. She swallowed hard, doing all she could to attempt to regain her control, even as she heard his next words in her head before he'd actually spoken them aloud.
"I want you to drive."