Growing Uncertainty
Why couldn't he breathe? It felt like something was squeezing his chest, making it impossible to catch his breath. He desperately needed to get outside, he needed fresh air. Bursting through the door to the roof of the lab, as he started to feel lightheaded from lack of oxygen. He managed to lean up against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting, his chest heaving . Trying to get his breathing to slow down, taking deep cleansing breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. After few minutes, he felt his heart rate returning to normal, finally relaxing a little, he rested his elbows on his knee's pressing the heel's of his hands into his eye's.
Why wouldn't H let him take the shot? Memmo was right in front of him and he had a clear shot. It took all of his strength to not pull the trigger on is 9mm, the whole time praying the visions in his head would stop flashing images of Marisol. Laying on the ground covered in blood, in her hospital bed as he leaned over her begging her to fight, kissing her cold cheek after she died…..He missed Marisol everyday and right in front of him was the man, no animal, that took her from him and H wouldn't let him take the shot.
Through his own raging emotions, he heard Elsa pleading for them not to shoot her father. Realizing that he was willing to do to Elsa what Memmo had done to him, put a memory in his head, that even after five years, he still couldn't shake. And in that moment he knew he wasn't a cop wanting to catch the bad guy. He was a brother desperately wanting to shoot the bastard that killed his sister. The reality of it all hitting him, he finally lowered his gun. But if he was being really honest with himself, he knew he wouldn't have been able to take the shot, even if H wouldn't have stopped him. Memmo was right, he wasn't that kind of man.
So why was it hitting him so hard now? It had been two hours since he stood with Memmo in his crosshairs and now he couldn't accept that Memmo had gotten away. Maybe it was filling out the paperwork, reading the words, and seeing how close he had been to giving Marisol justice. Maybe it was because he had been thinking of her a lot lately and how much he missed her. He needed to talk to someone about the mess he had made of his relationship with Calleigh and Marisol was always willing to listen while he talked his way to his own conclusion or offer her advice when he couldn't find the direction he needed on his own. Maybe that was why he was having a hard time forgiving himself for letting her killer walk. He felt like he had let her down. He really needed her now and the timing of the prison break and Memmo being back on the streets just hammered home just how fucking lost me felt.
Calleigh had said she needed to take a step back to work through some things. When she found out that he had worn the wire in the lab, she was pissed, but when they had a chance to sit and talk about it, just the two of them, she said she understood his reasons for doing it, but was having a hard time understanding why he felt he couldn't tell her about it. After everything they had already been through with his father and what his secrets had almost cost him, them. Her trust issues started to rear their ugly head, and he knew that it was going to take time and he was willing to give her the space she needed. But when she made the comment about loving him like family, he couldn't help the empty feeling that came over him. Had he lost her? He wanted to ask her what she meant by that, did she mean like a husband or did she think of him as a brother. He was afraid what her answer might be, so he never asked .All he knew was what he felt for her was nothing close to family, unless it was her being his wife.
He had been trying to honor her wishes, and give her the space she needed, but working with her everyday was proving to be difficult. He was afraid if he gave her to much space she may just close herself off behind her walls. And if he tried to talk to her when she wasn't ready, she might just push him away. It was becoming harder and harder to be in the same room with her and not have his fears get the best of him. She was so much better at controlling her emotions than he was. She never even hinted at what she was thinking or feeling or if it was bothering her at all. It was almost like they were never together. Had she already put them behind her and moved on? He was scared that she had.
He meant it when he told her he couldn't imagine his life without her, and as each day passed, it was very possible that was exactly what he was facing, and that was something he knew he couldn't handle. He had never felt like this before, about anyone. His experience in relationships, was having a little fun and bolting before anything became to serious. But since he had been shot, everything for him changed, he wasn't that guy anymore. He knew tomorrow was promised to no one, and he didn't want the empty life he had been living. He wanted a family and future and he wanted it with Calleigh. Realizing that he may have let the best thing to ever happen to him, slip through his fingers, was killing him.
He'd already been thinking about calling his therapist. He was so desperate for someone to talk to, and at the moment wasn't feeling like he had any other options. But now, you throw all the emotions from today into the mix, he was really feeling lost. Calleigh had always been his constant, especially since he had been shot, but with the way things were between them right now, he didn't want to cross any lines. Even after the events of the day, he didn't feel that he had the right to lean on her. It wasn't her fault Memmo escaped, bringing with him the guilt that was always associated with Marisol's death, that still didn't change anything.
Finally willing himself to stand up and head back inside the lab, he made a bee line for the locker room, not wanting to talk to anyone. He stopped in his tracks when he heard Calleigh and Natalia, he really didn't feel like making small talk, pretending it was life as usual, so he hid behind the row of lockers to his right. He knew it was childish, but he was to worked up and he really didn't want to see Calleigh right now. So he stayed hidden, listening to them talk about the case. Finally, their voices and the click clack of their heels started to fade, he came out of hiding and continued to his locker. Even being in here was painful, it only served as a reminder what a screwed up mess everything had become. Quickly opening his locker and grabbing what he needed to head home, he closed it again .and gave the lock a spin. Heading out the back door, that lead to the parking garage, desperately needing to get away from this place.
Letting himself into his condo, tossing his keys on the table by the door, thinking it probably wasn't a good thing that he barely remembered the drive home. Walking straight to his bedroom, all he wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed. He was tired enough physically, and mentally, he should be able to fall into bed and sleep for the next three days, but he knew that it wouldn't happen. He didn't know what was worse, staying awake and letting his conscience thoughts run through his head all night. Or falling asleep and having his dreams remind him just how soft she was to touch, or how much he loved the little moan's that escaped her perfect lips, as he kissed her neck just behind her ear, or just how perfect it felt every time they made love. Only to wake up in a cold sweat, with his heart racing, slowly realizing he had only been asleep for an hour, and now, he'd spend the rest of the night tossing and turning until his alarm blared.
Stripping off his shirt, as he walked into the bathroom to start the shower, thinking maybe he was feeling a little sorry for himself, and everything just seemed worse today because of dealing with Memmo. All he knew was he missed Calleigh so much it hurt and he'd give anything to have her here with him now. He needed to know that they weren't over. He needed to know that he'd never learn what it was like to live his life without her.