It started with a Nightmare …

This bears no relation to Inheritance. Just F.Y.I.


'Eric pressed on the car horn again, almost annoyed at her tardiness. Almost. He could never be truly annoyed at her. Although she was 20 minutes late. He pressed on the horn again, using more force than necessary as a way of venting his irritation. 25 minutes late. She was taking the Mickey now. He almost regretted telling her that he would pick her up. Almost. He could never regret anything about her. In his eyes, she was perfect. Even if he had been waiting for her outside her house for a half hour. Slowly, another 5 minutes passed. That was the straw that broke the camels back. He angrily snatched his mobile phone up and pressed her number on speed dial, breathing heavily, trying to calm down before she picked up the phone.

"Hello?" She asked sweetly, as if totally unaware of the man seething on the other end of the line. He laughed to stop himself from yelling at her. Though he knew he never would.

"Hi, Calleigh." He paused to laugh again, this time at his own voice, the words flowing out nonchalantly, as if he hadn't been waiting, bored stiff in his car for the last forty minutes, "Where the hell are you?"

He heard her gasp at the other end, momentarily wondering if he had overdone it with the sarcasm, relieved when he heard her running around.

"Oh sod! I was asleep. I'll be down in two minutes. I am so sorry! How long have you been waiting?"

"Only 5 minutes." He lied. He didn't want her to feel too bad.

"I'm sorry. Why didn't you use your key?"

Why didn't he use his key? That was a good point. Why wait outside when you could have gone inside and roused her from whatever blissful dream that had been captivating her. It was completely insane that he had waited for so long. Why had he done it?

"I don't know to be honest." He answered. There were many things that he would have rathered have been doing for those 40 minutes yet at the moment none sprung to mind.

"I'm coming down now. Two seconds." She gasped. He looked towards the house waiting for her to rush out of the front door.

"I'm com…" She suddenly cut off halfway, her frantic words replaced by a terrifying scream. Eric's heart ceased beating, terror gripping him like a vice. He heard a dull thump followed by a crack, the line cutting out before he heard the remainder of whatever horror was taking place in her home. Everything from that point on was automatic. He almost fell over his own feet in a desperate attempt to get out of the car, dashing to the front door, pushing it open (Which, surprisingly, he didn't find weird at the time) only to see a tiny body at the foot of the staircase beside a pile of machinery that could have once been a mobile phone. He ran over to her, scooping her up like a small child in his arms, staring into her deep, glassy eyes, Lifeless eyes. Moving his hand to check for a pulse, he let got of her head in the process. It hung back floppily, like a puppet with no strings, a tear making it's way slowly down his face as he realised her neck was broken, that his beloved had gone. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, so much he'd like to share. He knew he was never going to have the chance. She was dead. As he pulled her close, pressing his cheek to hers, gazing at the white lilies in a glass vase, their purity only reminding him of what he had lost ……'

He awoke in his bed, cold, clammy and unbelievably scared. Why had he dreamt something like that? He wasn't used to having nightmares, which he thought odd considering his line of work. And if he did, it was usually about the case he had worked that day. Why had he dreamt she had died? Somehow, he knew he wouldn't sleep anymore that night…


A few sleepless nights later, her cold, dead eyes still haunted him, the image imprinted deep onto his soul. He tossed and turned, still hearing the thump of her tiny frame hitting the hard steps. He wandered around his apartment, still feeling the pain and loss when he realised she was dead. Laid down on his sofa, he could still smell the sweetness of the lilies. The terrible nightmare plagued him, shrouding him in worry and sorrow, even though he knew she was safe and well.

'Ring, Ring'

The sound of the phone rousing him from whatever restfulness he may or may not have had. He dejectedly pulled himself from the comfort and warmth of the sofa and dragged himself towards the phone, feeling like the walking dead.

"Hello?" He asked, suppressing a yawn.

"Eric?" Upon hearing her voice he was wide-awake. She sounded terrified, "Eric, I think there's someone in my house … I didn't know who else to call."

"Stay there, I'm coming right over," He started to panic, "Where abouts are you?"

Silence….

"Calleigh?"

"Shhhhh! He's coming up the stairs." She whispered. Eric couldn't throw his clothes on quick enough, "I think he has my gun. I left it downstairs."

Hold the phone. That wasn't right.

"Why would YOU of all people leave your gun downstairs?" He asked, voicing the question his brain had asked.

"I don't know. I just did." She said, suddenly sounding not at all scared.

"Cal, if this is a joke it's not funny at all." He said arrogantly.

"Oh god, Eric he's in my bedroom." She whispered again, snapping back to sounding like a damsel in distress. He quickly finished dressing and ran out of his apartment, down the staircase and across the road to her house (Which was funny because she didn't actually live anywhere near him). He thundered up to her bedroom, and was running towards the door when he heard the shot. He flung it open, revealing Calleigh lying in a pool of blood running from a hole in her chest, the curtains flying wildly, the window open. He rushed towards her, cradling her tiny form, stroking her flawless blonde hair as she quietly passed away in his arms. He glanced around her room for the phone, a painting of White lilies catching his eye, their beauty only reminding him of what he had lost…'

He sprang up, the phone clutched in his hand, tears pouring from his eyes. Usually his dreams consisted of her doing unmentionable things to him in saucy ways, not her untimely death. What was wrong with him? That was a question for Alexx, a question he'd have to ask her first thing in the morning…


"Maybe you should see your doctor." Alexx suggested after he told her about the insubstantial amount of sleep he was receiving and the reason, "It sounds like it could be the repercussions of your injury surfacing again."

"That's why I came to see you." He said leaning against the break room counter, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "Why Calleigh? Why does she have to be the one to die?"

"Honey, I think you and I both know the answer to that."

And, in truth, he did. But he wanted a second opinion.

"No … tell me."

"Eric, in your subconscious," she sighed, "You're so worried about Calleigh getting hurt that you're having nightmares about this. You care about her so much that you can't sleep because you're worried about her getting injured."

She patted his arm and walked out of the break room, passing Ryan on the way out.

"What was that about?" Ryan asked looking very confused. Eric just shook his head, not wanting him to know (He'd been denying his feelings for Calleigh to him for years), "Anyway, we're having a bit of a party tonight in here. Just F.Y.I."

And with that he left. Eric considered it for a moment. He desperately needed sleep, but perhaps this would take his mind off the nightmares that had disturbed him for the past week…


The party was in full swing when Eric arrived, couples dancing, music blaring, drinks being passed around, yet he couldn't see the one person he longed to see.

"Hey!" Ryan exclaimed, walking over to him, handing him a beer, "I've got something to show you…"

"What?" He asked. He didn't want to see anything that would scar him for life. He had spent enough time with Ryan at clubs to know Ryan got a little wild while he was intoxicated.

"You'll like this…" He said beckoning him to follow, then almost disappearing into the crowd. Eric followed apprehensively, dreading what was coming. He was pleasantly surprised. She was wearing the tiniest red dress he'd ever seen, a halter neck with ruffles at the end of the skirt, coupled with red high heels. Showing just enough cleavage to let his mind wander, but just enough covered up to be decent. Then he noticed she was holding a beer. Beer and Calleigh didn't usually belong in the same sentence. It wasn't her thing. Neither was dancing but she was attempting to do that as well. Suddenly, she slipped (He knew she had difficulty walking in such high heels without being as drunk as she obviously was.) but he managed to catch her before she hit the floor, one arm underneath her back, the other under her legs.

"Hi." She whispered sweetly, wrapping her arms around his neck, allowing him to scoop her up and place her in a recently vacated chair.

"Are you drunk?" He asked. Straight to the point.

"Nooooooo. I don't drink Eric, you know that." She said, oblivious that she was now sipping from the bottle.

"Then what's that?" He enquired, pointing to the bottle. She looked at it in a rather exaggerated way, then turned back to face him, squinting slightly, the double vision setting in.

"It's a chicken." She stated flatly. Eric let out an exasperated sigh, turning to Natalia who was dancing behind him.

"How many of these has she had?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Calleigh and her unbelievable declaration of 'two'.

"Well?"

"It's got a two in it but it's not two." Natalia said rather tipsily, returning to her dancing partner. He stood up, holding his hand out for her to take, and was mildly surprised when she did. Normally, this kind of physical contact warranted her drawing her gun (Although, he truthfully didn't know where she'd keep it in that dress.). Carefully, he escorted her outside, much to her protest, his arm around her waist, half because he knew he'd only get this kind of chance once, half because he was worried about her falling flat on her face.

"I don't need you to help me, you know, because I'm not at all drunk." She said, slurring slightly. Doing as he was told, Eric released her, walking a couple of paces behind, preparing to catch her if she fell. He regarded her with some amusement as she staggered about, walking one foot in front of the other, arms outstretched, as if she was travelling along a tightrope. The next thing he knew, she was on the floor again, struggling to stand up.

"I'm ok. I'm good." She lied, rearranging and smoothing her dress most inelegantly. He couldn't suppress a chuckle. She was absolutely blitzed. Again he found himself carrying her, who was giggling profusely, to the car, protecting her from further damage. He was surprised when he found her incomprehensibly light.

"How much do you weigh?" He asked. She glared at him menacingly and he was glad she couldn't fit a gun into that dress, "Ok. That came out wrong. It's just you're really light… and… erm…"

He was babbling. Mentally kicking himself, he set her down to open the car door, recoiling from her slightly, afraid he was going to get slapped.

"For your information, you insensitive tit, I weigh exactly the right amount, thank you very much." She explained as he opened the car door for her, allowing her to enter.

"Sorry. I really didn't mean it to come out like that. It sounded so much better in my head." He whispered, strapping her into the seat. He pulled away slightly so he could look into her eyes, praying that she wasn't too mad at him, astounded when he felt her lips moving against his, her hands running through his hair in an incredible burst of passion. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss.

"Calleigh, I can't do this."

"You've got to be kidding me! It's been you that's saying we're perfect for each other, saying how much you hate the fact that I'm with Jake. Then you say no?! Do you not want me anymore or something? You know what, just go to hell!" She yelled, turning away from him, clearly very upset. Gently, he reached over, stroking her cheek, noticing her expression soften at his touch.

"You have no idea how much I want you but I'm not going to take advantage of you while you're drunk."

She turned back to face him, wrapping her arms around his torso, her face pressed to his chest.

"Awww. That's so sweet. In that case, I'm sorry I yelled at you." She apologised, freeing him from her grasp. He closed the car door, walking around the back of it to get in the drivers side, Calleigh's eyes on him the whole time, afraid that he was going to scarper. Once he was safely strapped into the car, he turned to face her; terrified that he had really hurt her, only to be met by her sleeping figure slumped against the seat. Eric leant his head back against the seat, breathing heavily, trying desperately to rid himself of the images that they would have castrated him for 100 years ago. He couldn't help himself. He closed his eyes, almost feeling her lips on his again, almost seeing the tempest of emotions rushing through her veins.

"Eric?" He shot out of his daze at the sound of her voice, terrified that something was wrong. The nightmares had their purpose; to make sure he protected her. And in a way he was grateful for teaching him how much she meant to him.

"I'll take you home." He stated as he started the car.

"Are you ok?" She asked, sounding worried about him.

"Of course." He said, taking a left. His heart stopped. The first turn on the way to Calleigh's house was a right. He strained to put his foot on the brake yet his foot made no attempt to move. He knew she was going to die again if he didn't try harder. Another left. Wrong again. He started to panic. How was he meant to protect her if he couldn't even do it in his dreams? Another wrong turning. The cars speed increased rapidly, way past the limit.

"Eric, I think you should slow down."

"I'm trying!" He said, his voice being the only thing he had control over, his body acting in a way he implored it not to as the dial on the speedometer whirled around.

"Eric!"

"I'm trying!"

"Well try harder! I plan to see tomorrow! Have you got a death wish?!" She shouted, "Tip. When trying to stop… YOU PUT YOUR FOOT ON THE BRAKE! WE'RE GOING TO …"

BANG

The car jolted, enveloping itself around a large tree, bending it in half, the silence now draping them only interrupted by the hiss from the engines.

"Eric! I can't breathe!" She whispered, her voice hoarse and constricted. He leaned over to her, stroked her face, comforting words echoing around the inside of the car. He knew she was dying, the knowledge only enhanced when she began coughing up blood, guilt surging through his veins. He couldn't bear to watch her die again but he was in a sort of trance, unable to move, unable to save her. He felt hot tears drip down his face as he watched her close her eyes for the last time, breathe her last, succumb to the captivation of death. He hardly noticed the bonnet set on fire, the severed heads of Madonna lilies laying on it browning and shrinking from the heat and intensity of the flames, their elegance only reminding him of what he had lost…'

He awoke screaming, provoking Calleigh to do the same.

"Eric! What was that?! You scared the hell out of me!" She squealed, hitting his arm with her fist, after they had both recovered from the fright.

"Sorry… Sorry." He gasped.

"Jesus! Don't EVER do anything so stupid EVER again! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry." He said, pulling her into an embrace, stroking her hair, never wanting to let go despite the seat uncomfortably digging into his ribs.

"What did you see?"

He wanted desperately to tell her, to make her aware of how much he cared, but, for her sake, he didn't, instead demurring her for the time being while her thought of the right words, because, for the moment, he could find none.


The next morning, Eric was knelt at the side of her bath, head resting on his arms, listening to her slag off Jake while she was lying on her back. The strangeness of it hadn't worn off yet. She was naked in his presence and she didn't seem the least bit bothered. True, everything that would be covered by a bikini was covered by bubbles instead but he figured they all had to pop sometime.

"You're staring." She said seductively. He quickly looked away, not wanting to push it. She slowly pulled her hand out of the water and caressed his cheek, "It's ok. I don't mind."

She turned her whole body towards him, the bubbles sliding off her hip slightly, causing his eyes to wander again. He knew she'd caught him looking once more. She moved closer to the edge of the tub, her hand moving to the back of his neck, telepathically transmitting her intentions. He didn't even try to resist. She was enchanting. The one kiss they had shared last night had him hooked, desperate for more. He almost melted as their lips touched all over again. If he'd died right there, right then, he would have died a very happy man. He nearly whimpered when she broke the kiss, retreating to the opposite side of the huge square bathtub, beckoning him.

"There's room in here for two."

She laughed when Eric made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a 'eh?'.

"That was very eloquent. I'll take back my offer if you don't hurry up."

He was out of his clothes faster than the Roadrunner on caffeine. Soon, she was sponging hot water over his muscular upper body while her gently stroked her hair, some laying loose around her face, most of it held up with a large clip.

"Do you want to…you know?" She asked, running her hand up his chest, inching closer to him.

"Are you sure? That's a big step." He didn't want her to do anything she wasn't ready for, to spoil what they had by rushing things.

"If you don't want to…" She said quietly, moving to get out of the bath, only to be pulled forcefully back down. Eric couldn't believe his luck.


Eric threw himself down onto the break room couch, sighing heavily. That mornings antics and the 12 hours of work he had just done had completely knackered him, rendering him absolutely useless. He decided to have five minutes sleep, against his better judgement. He had only slept last night without any unpleasantries because he knew she was safe, snuggled up close, protected. No such luck now. He prayed for a dreamless sleep as his eyes drifted close.

'BANG!'

The break room door nearly fell off its hinges as Ryan stormed into the room, muttering under his breath.

"What's wrong Ryan?" Eric asked, eyes still closed, sounding completely unconcerned.

"Calleigh!" At that Eric shot up, the mention of her name rendering him no longer sleepy. Another bang signified Calleighs entrance into the room.

"Speak of the devil…" Ryan muttered audibly.

"Is it true that when you were born the doctor turned around and slapped your mother?" Calleigh shouted angrily. Eric sunk back down, not wanting to get involved in their latest spat.

"You know, you can be a real bitch sometimes!" He snapped back. That was too far. Eric leapt off of the sofa and walked over to Ryan, ready to punch his lights out, but a small hand resting on his bicep prevented him from doing anything he regretted. Eric was disgusted. He'd never seen Ryan sink so low. He never thought Ryan could be such a bastard… Because he couldn't. Eric realised he'd once again been claimed the victim of his vivid nightmares, that he was going to lose Calleigh all over again. Beginning to panic, he turned, only to find her walking half way down the corridor. He willed his legs to move, to run after her, to protect her. He was shocked when he found himself in control of his body, running down the corridor after her, pleading with her to stop.

"Eric, I'm fine." She said stiffly, stopping dead when he skidded in front of her, placing his hands on her arms.

"If you don't stop you're going to die." He said dramatically. She burst out laughing, much to his surprise, who had been very serious.

"Very funny." She chuckled sarcastically, starting to walk off again.

"I'm serious!" He yelled, moving in front of her once more, blocking her path of retreat. Her expression softened, starting to believe him.

"What do you mean?" She whispered, gazing around as if expecting to see a mad axe murderer thundering towards her. Suddenly the whole building shook violently, glass shattered and walls crumbled. A steel girder fell from the roof, bringing debris with it, crushing him, choking him with dust and plaster before a chunk smashed into his skull, rendering him unconscious.

When he came to, the whole environment was shrouded in silence, not a muffle, not a wail, not a gasp pierced the air. Pushing the debris aside, he squinted around, trying to get a hold on his surroundings. He had failed again. He rolled the girder off of her, only to see her eyes open and glazed over. Dead. Just as beautiful in death as she was in life. Her tiny figure now broken and bruised, a dusty white lily lying on her chest, its captivation only reminding him of what he had lost…

He awoke, rolling off the couch, sobs racking his body as he collapsed onto the floor, even though he knew she was safe, happy just around the corner…


3 weeks later, Eric was driving back to Calleighs house from the lab (He'd basically moved in) to find several cars in the driveway and loud music issuing from the house. Calleigh hadn't mentioned anything about having a party today. She'd mentioned shopping, doctor's appointment, lunch with Alexx, visiting her dad, manicure … and there was nothing that really deserved a celebration going on. As he locked up the car, he felt small arms snake around his waist, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"What's with the party?" He asked, turning to face her. She took hold of his hands and slowly led him into the house, not giving anything away. Inside, the party was swinging, everyone dancing to 2unlimited, drinks in hand. Eric suddenly felt something stiff and cool pressed into his hand. Upon further inspection, he found it to be a photograph. Not just any photograph. Any other photo wouldn't have constricted his throat, clouded his vision, and caused him to drop what he was holding. This was a sonogram picture. A black and grey space surrounding a little bean shaped snowman (or snowgirl), cutting off his air supply.

"Are you ok with this?" She whispered sweetly, gazing into his eyes. All he could manage was a quiet, acknowledging grunt, the lack of air reaching his lungs making it impossible for anything else, made even worse as she threw her arms around his neck. Speech failed him once more.


'Eric couldn't breathe. Intensely hot flames surrounded him, blinding him, deafening him. A horned head glared menacingly out from the white-hot flames.

"Eric," The head hissed, "I have been given a duty to do, and will not stop until I see it completed."

"What is your duty?" Eric gasped, the flames threatening to engulf his legs, creeping nearer and nearer as if carried by the figure that was steadily advancing, "Who sent you?"

"My job is to rid the world of the angels that the world holds so dear. The devil wishes me to destroy mercilessly… but I … being a compassionate being, wish to give the lovers of the angels a chance to save them."

The flames collapsed, revealing a silver room, covered in TV screens, each showing a different person from all around the globe.

"Are you trying to tell me that you were sent by the devil?"

"My lord and Master wishes everyone here to perish."

Eric looked around the room. Some of the 'angels' were young, some old, some tall, some short, some male, some female, some brunette, and some blonde…

"Your Angel must also die. I can tell you that it will be soon but do not despair, for there is a way to save her. You must resist temptation and she will live."

"That's it?! That's all the help you're going to give me?!" Eric yelled. The figure only smiled and waved its bony, burned hand through the air, producing a Madonna lily from the air.

"T-minus 3 minutes." It said, handing him the lily before disintegrating…'

He awoke, gasping for air. Water gushed into the house through a broken window, flooding the bedroom. He had somehow managed to end up on the floor beside the bed, thrashing in the water that threatened to drown him. He clung desperately onto the bedding only to feel it slip off the matress, sending him spiraling through the door and out of another broken window, where he found Calleigh, holding on for dear life to a lamp post, water swirling around he like a tiny vortex. He swam over to her as fast as he could; he knew this was it, this was the time when she would die properly if he couldn't do ... something. He mentally cursed himself for fogetting the vital peice of infomation the messenger had given him, but he quickly realised he did not have time to dwell.

"Are you alright?" He yelled, reaching the lamp post.

"Yes, I think so!" She shouted back, gasping when Eric pinned her between himself and the lamp post, protecting her from the raging torrents washing around them.

"What the HELL is going on?!"

"I don't know. There was no warnings or anything! It just came out of nowhere!" She squealed, foamy sea water engulfing her tiny form. Out of nowhere, a rogue wave collapsed on top of them, yanking erics grasp from the post. He tried to keep his head above the water, reaching out to try and find Calleigh, but she was gone. A large object struck his head and his vision was clouded by darkness. She was gone.


"Eric?" A scared, familiar voice roused him from his sleep, pulling him away from his nightmare. He turned towards the voice and opened his eyes, expecting to see her beautiful green ones staring back at him. But it wasn't her.

"Can you hear me?" It was Alexx. He tried to sit up, but various wires and pipes held him back, strapping him to what he now realised was a hospital bed.

"Where's Calleigh?" He asked, praying that Alexx was going to say something mundane and ordinary.

"You gave us a fright," Alexx whispered, fluffing his pillows, tears leaking from her eyes, "You've been in a coma for a month."

"Where's Calleigh?"

"If you hadn't have made it, we don't know what we would have done."

"WHERE'S CALLEIGH?" He asked insistently. Alexx couldn't look him in the face, and this gave it all away. She really had gone.

"We can't find her, honey. She dissapeared when the tsunami hit. I'm so sorry."

The truth hit him like a ton of bricks. He looked around the room, searching for a source of comfort or hope but only found despair; A vase of madonna lilies lying at the foot of his bed, only reminding him of what he had lost...


Not my best FanFic. Probably be the last one I do before I have my baby. Hope you enjoyed it.

Drommie

XOXOXOX