This is another one of my sad fics—you have been warned. This was loosely inspired but The Lovely Bones (btw: book was, of course, 100 times better than the movie. They always are).

Story told in Calleigh's POV.

This is a bit different and very random at parts.

An Angel's Torture

Torture. I thought I knew it, thought I experienced it, both physically and emotionally. I was proven wrong.

I truly thought that I was going to be going home to my family that day, back to my husband and my daughter. I thought I'd see their smiles and hear their laughter, I was wrong again. My lungs didn't seem to want that for me, they had less joyous ideas in their cruel little minds.

It had been years since the demon that was smoke invaded my damaged lungs and I had hoped never to feel it again. Sadly, some arsonist thought it would be great to try and kill two CSIs, Horatio and myself. We barely had time to escape and my lungs seemed to stop. Air couldn't get in and I fell to my knees the second we got out. I coughed and coughed, wanting oxygen to sink in. My lungs were on fire just as much as the building behind us. My head spins and I fall into the grass, droplets of water brought on from lack of clean air spill out of my eyes. I hear the screeching of EMT sirens in the distance, but I could also hear my slow heartbeat in my ears and I know they wouldn't get here in time. The last thing my eyes see in this world is Horatio kneeling over me as he tries to call me back.

Many say when my heart stopped beating was when my personal hell ended, but in fact it had only just begun. My spirit left my body in the hospital room when they turned off my life support, seeing that third time was the charm and I could never be brought back. By my bedside I saw Eric, fighting tears as he held my lifeless hand. By the look in his eyes, I know that he is praying that I will somehow be able to squeeze his hand back and that my eyes will flutter open, but they never do. Eric finally realizes this and puts his lips to mine. I watched as he did and wished, desperately, that I was actually able to feel the warmth of his lips as they touched my corpses for a final time.

"I love you," he whispered to me as he ran his fingers over the roots of my hair.

"I love you," I breathed back to him, but my voice echoed around the room and he couldn't hear me.

Eric took a deep breath through his nose, trying to steady himself for a couple more hours, before reluctantly letting me go. He did turn back one time, my apparition invisible to him, taking in my face one last time. Then he closed the door and he left, never able to see my body again.

I supposed I could have gone on then, like most did. But I wanted to be here for them, somehow. Instead I followed him down the hall, knowing whom he was about to see. Horatio was in the waiting room with Destiny, my and Eric's six-year-old daughter, at his side. Eric walked into the room, which was empty except for my daughter and one of my dearest friends. Horatio's face was solemn, but his eyes sad as Destiny rested her head against his upper arm. Destiny's beautiful face was tearstained and the tears continued to fall out her eyes, the eyes she had inherited from me, though they look a thousand times better and brighter on her. The saltwater continued to wash over the warm Cuban skin she had received from her father.

Eric walked over to them and knelt down in front of Destiny, her instantly throwing her tiny arms around him and she began to sob into his shoulder. Eric reached up to stroke her dark hair as he hugged her tighter; afraid that he'd lose her if he let go.

I feel my heart tearing into a billion pieces as her tears soak Eric's neck and Eric lets a few tears escape himself, creating streaks of water on his cheeks.

"Don't cry," I all but beg them as I got on my knees next to them and put a hand on each of their shoulders. "I'm right here."

But my touch can't be felt and my voice unheard, all attempts of communication impossible. Thus the torture begins…for all of us.

Torture was the first night Eric spent as a widower and Destiny motherless. The house was still and darkness crept through every corner of our home. I find Eric in our bedroom with Destiny curled up against his side as he held her closely; he had hardly let her out of his arms since the hospital. Destiny had eventually cried herself out after a couple of hours of sobbing that practically killed Eric and myself to watch, only I was already dead. Eric attempted to comfort her, reminding Destiny that I was watching over them and I still loved them, every word he was telling her the truth. But she cried and cried into his arm, unable to stop even if she wanted to. Eric tried to control his own pain for her, though I could tell by the look in his eyes that it was challenging. But eventually the sobs subsided and she fell into an uneasy slumber, Eric watching her as she slept. I sat at the foot of the bed and watched, feeling as though a cinder block was crushing my chest as so much emotion tightened my heart.

At one point during the night he looked over at my side of the bed, where the space was bare and sheets cold. Neither of us had any idea that that morning would be the last time I would ever awaken on that side, his arms around me and my head against his chest.

"God, Calleigh," he sighed, voice full of heartache. "Why?"

I bit my lip and let out a shuddering breath as tears sprang into my eyes; I had no idea the dead could cry.

"I don't know," I whispered, my voice breaking as I began to sob just as hard as Destiny.

Torture was when the full impact hit me as all the cold truths came forth. Never again would I be able to hold my husband; never again would I be able to hug my daughter. Last night was the last time I would tuck Destiny into bed; last night was the last time Eric and I would make love. This morning was the last time I would drop her off at school; this morning was the last time Eric would kiss me. Today had been the last time they would hear me say I loved them and the last time they would be able to tell my living soul the same.

I watched through wet eyelashes as my love and my baby slept, neither of them knowing how much I loved them.

Torture was watching my funeral. Not so much I was seeing myself being buried, but it was that I witnessed friends and family cry. I wasn't sure which was more painful, seeing Eric's tears fall or seeing Destiny's. He was holding her on his hip as he watched them lower my casket into the earth, at which point Destiny turned her head so it was her eyes were against the crook of Eric's neck. I came and stood by their side and I gently rubbed Destiny's back, though I knew she wouldn't feel it. But I had to do something, even if it was in vain, which was why I wrapped my other arm around Eric's waist.

I took a moment to look around to see the people I cared about. Everyone who I knew from MDPD was there, some crying, others fighting the tears. Alexx and her husband, Henry, were there. Alexx had tears causing streaks on her cheeks as she leaned into Henry. Horatio, Ryan, Walter and Natalia stood closest to Eric and Destiny. The last time we had been to a funeral was for Jesse a few years ago, but the looks on their faces seemed a lot more hurt. Was it because they had, except Walter, had known me longer? Were they just more devastated because I had a husband and a child I was forced to leave behind? I don't know. Everyone had there own reason, I suppose.

Torture was the gathering after the funeral back at our house. Seeing the masses of black in the living room and kitchen was saddening, it didn't seem right as the house as I knew it was full of laughter and smiles. Eric would only speak when spoken to, mostly hoping this would just end and he and Destiny could just spend time alone to mourn. But Destiny had hidden herself away in her room, looking at the picture of her and I on the swings at the local playground in which Eric had took. She was sitting on my lap, her hands under mine on the chains as I made the swing move in small motions, making a series of the sweetest giggles escape her lips, which of course brought a smile to my own face. Somewhere in her mind she knew that I would never be able to take her to the playground again, let alone smile with her on the swings.

When everyone finally left, their condolences given, Eric went back to Destiny's room. Her head was on her pillow; her eyes were closed but the skin surrounding red. The picture was tucked under her arm and held against her chest. Eric couldn't see me sitting next to Destiny, my hand running down her soft dark hair; it felt just like it did to me when I stroked her locks in life, like smooth silk, the only she didn't know I was doing so. I wanted some of this to be like the ghost movies and shows that were oh-so popular, in which the spirit was able to make contact with the living but that didn't seem to be the case. But maybe that was for the best, maybe it was better for them not to see me or know of my presence at all. I knew it wouldn't be fair for them to see me and then disappear…I know I'd feel that way if it was the other way around.

Eric sat on the bed beside Destiny, smiling a sad smile down at the framed picture before gently taking it out of her grasp to place on her bedside table. Destiny awoke then, her eyes blinking open to reveal her green eyes to Eric. He smiled down at her, though the smile didn't touch his eyes, and gently wrapped his arms around her small body.

"Daddy," she whispered, her voice was full of sadness. "I miss Momma."

"I know," Eric sighed as he kissed her forehead. "I miss her too."

Every night was torture; the first few months were the hardest for all three of us. I would watch as Eric read and tucked Destiny into bed, both knowing I'd be in the same room at that very moment if I were alive as we both kissed her good night and wished her pleasant dreams. Instead, it was just she and Eric saying goodnight and the promise of seeing each other the next morning.

I would sit with Destiny and watch her as she slept and her mind was at peace as she dreamed. I was relieved this one thing hadn't changed, me being able to watch her sleep. Ever since she was a baby I would find an odd sort of enjoyment just looking at her as she entered the realm of the subconscious. I would watch her wrapped up in a blanket in my arms and in her crib when she was a baby, continuing to watch as she got older and slept in a bed (sometimes not her own, but mine and Eric's some nights). I would wonder, and still do, where she went in her dreams. Were they exciting or peaceful? Did she dream about people or places? Did the dreams have a plot of some kind or just flashes of color?

I wondered while she dreamed, it had always been a mild addiction of mine.

But I would also go to mine and Eric's room at some point in the night, sometimes to see him sleeping or still awake. I would lay down next to him and wrap my arm around his middle, pulling myself as close as possible to him. He was still so, so warm as his body warmed mine. It amazed me how he seemed to have that same energy effect on me even after I was gone.

"Goodnight, Calleigh," he would whisper into the night before going to sleep.

I would put my lips to his, knowing he wouldn't awaken when I did.

"Goodnight, Eric," I would whisper back before lying against his chest.

Sometimes I would do the unthinkable and forget that I was dead some nights. I couldn't sleep, apparently we can't, but the way I would be next to Eric felt so real and so good…I couldn't help but feel a bit more alive than I should have.

Torture was seeing Eric attempting to move on two years after my death. I wasn't mad at him for trying to, we had had this discussion when we first got married about this and then when Destiny was born we spoke about it again, possibly talking about stepparents if it came to that. So no, I wasn't angry; for I knew if I was still alive we'd still be together and still be in love.

Eric sat in the restaurant where he and his date had agreed to meet up when they had met earlier that week at the bank. He had never approached anyone since I died, but for some reason he started talking to this woman at the bank. I figured she must have been special to get him to open up to her.

I watched their date as it played out. I learned this girl, Caitlin, had a degree in psychology, she seemed nice, she didn't freak out when Eric told her he had a seven-year-old daughter and she was funny. But for some reason Eric had a look of slight disappointment on his face and, now I'm not sure if this was my imagination, but he seemed to be in a rush to end the date, though he didn't make it too obvious. They were both able to end the date on a nice note, but it wasn't pitch perfect. Caitlin seemed to get a vibe that he wasn't ready for this. She supposed that maybe he was still too consumed by his wife's death to really start dating again. But I wasn't worried about her. I saw how on her way home she ran into a guy on the bridge. They would get married, have three girls and one son and she would die at age seventy-seven of cancer. After that night she never again heard the name Delko.

But Eric left, a frown on his face, the night didn't end so happily for him. He sat behind the wheel of his car, staring out into the night. I sat on the passenger side beside him, reeling off questions about why he wasn't satisfied with the date or why they never at least agreed on a second date. I knew he couldn't hear me, but that didn't prevent me from asking them.

However, Eric did answer my question, though he didn't know it. He grabbed his wallet and flipped through the pictures he had inside until he found the one he was looking for. It was the picture of him and me when we were at Alexx's annual Christmas party a year before Destiny was born. He had his arms wrapped around my waist from behind me and I was leaning into him, both the biggest smiles on our faces.

But Eric wasn't smiling now; instead he sighed a sad sigh and looked at the picture for a few minutes. I looked at my picture then thought back to Caitlin. I realized then what she had then…long blonde hair, deep green eyes and was around my height. If someone had put us side-by-side, they probably would have thought we were related, long distance cousins perhaps.

In a time before he and I had feelings for each other Caitlin may have had a chance with Eric, maybe even an actual relationship. But Eric was looking for someone who was like me; Caitlin and I only seemed alike in our looks, nothing more. She didn't have a Southern accent, she wasn't fascinated by guns or anything else like me.

I guess if I was in his shoes I would have done the same thing, looking for someone like him to fill the hole within me, but I was still upset by the fact his mind was stuck on me and he wasn't moving on. I wanted to tell him it was okay and that he shouldn't be looking for my long lost twin or anything. But my words were silence to him as he put the picture back into his wallet and drove to pick Destiny up from his mom and dad's.

Eric found her asleep on the couch in his parents' living room, her face at peace. She hadn't known he went on a date, Eric didn't want to say anything until he was sure it would work out. One day he would tell her about his date, but not now when he was realizing that he was never going to want to get remarried or another relationship with a female passed friends. It was hard to watch him make that decision as he loaded Destiny in the car and drove home under the streetlights.

All the little things were torture. I missed the simplest of moments that I never realized meant so much to me.

There would be times when Destiny would wonder into the living room, even though she was supposed to be tucked in her room and fast asleep. In life I was always the one who would pick her up and take her back into her bedroom, saying goodnight for the second time that night. But Eric now took on that responsibility along with everything else I used to do; making her lunch, driving her to school everyday (I used to take her Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays) and making an attempt to braid her long hair were just a few.

Eric stepping into my shoes and him carrying on with his duties soon became routine for them, but exhausting for Eric. During the nights when he didn't know I was there, my arm would be wrapped around his torso and I would whisper to him when the day had been particularly hard and he was feeling like a failure as a single parent.

"You're doing great with her," I would say. "She's lucky that she's got you."

Torture was when Destiny had her first broken heart at the rotten age of sixteen. She got out of her car, Eric still at work, as she sobbed and sobbed. She made a beeline for her bedroom, tossing her school bag by her bed before lying, face down, into her pillow; it didn't take too long for the pillow to become stained with her tears. I sat beside her and wrapped my arm around her, whispering how that boy made a mistake and that her heart would soon mend, but she didn't know I was saying so.

This was probably one of the worst parts of being dead, being so close when they were hurting and not being able to give them the comfort that they recognized.

She knew that if she needed to talk to some female influence she could go to one of her aunts, Natalia or Alexx. But that day none of them seemed to be enough, none of them had what she needed. Even when a few friends called to check up on her, she screened their calls and cried until it her eyes became incapable of producing tears…somehow sobs still erupted from within her. The harder she cried, the more I longed to be alive if only for a moment.

She managed to cry herself out before Eric got home, but he couldn't miss how red and swollen her eyes were when he came in her room.

He asked her what was wrong and she told him, her words being broken up by sobs.

Eric pulled Destiny into his arms, inwardly shouting a string of profanities at her now ex-boyfriend for having the nerve to break her heart. I couldn't help but grin at how protective Eric was of Destiny.

After my death I thought he would go a bit overboard with the protectiveness of our baby, like the usual scenario of not wanting to lose somebody else. But he impressed me by keeping his protective levels in check and not going too over the top. He was still protective of Destiny, but he had yet to put a tracker on her car.

But he knew he couldn't protect her from the cruelty that was the teenage boy, not that he didn't try, and now she was clinging to him, the one man who would always love her.

"I wish Mom was here," she whispered, voice heavy and thick with tears.

Those words all but pierced our hearts. She wanted her mother's wisdom and comfort, knowing I'd had to have gone through the same thing once before. His heart ached because he knew that I was the one who should have been here doing this if things had played out the way they should have, but Destiny was going to have to settle for him. In some ways he and I were feeling the same thing, he was close to Destiny but he couldn't offer any words of comfort.

I was hurting because they were both feeling that way, Destiny for being hurt and me not being able to be there for her. I hurt for Eric because he felt like a failure. I wanted to be able to hold Destiny in my arms, promise her she will be okay and she would one day find somebody who wouldn't break her heart. I wanted to tell Eric he shouldn't have to feel so bad and that sometimes there is nothing else you can do other than hold her and tell her that at least you'll always love her, unlike this kid who dared to hurt her.

But like all the other times, I blended in the air and was unable to do anything.

The rest of her teenage years weren't exactly easy, not in the sense that they were constantly fighting like the usual teenage case, the polar opposite actually. Destiny wasn't one to argue without reason, but sometimes Eric wished that they would fight so at least then he would know what she was thinking. Her last few years and beginning years of high school was when she shut herself away as her own way of figuring things out. That left Eric worried and feeling useless, wondering if it would be easier if I was there…everyone did.

"Teenage years," Natalia sighed one day when she and Eric had been talking. "The times you fight with your mom the most and need her the most."

Eric was on the same wavelength as Natalia in that sense, thinking maybe things would be different if I was there. I didn't know if they were right or not, but I wish I did. Then again, I wished many things and none of them came true anymore. The only thing I was sure of as I watched Destiny mature into a young woman, I got tears in my eyes at the thought, was that she would grow out of the standoffish phase.

Eventually she did and I sat back and watched as the moments every parent remembered play out; when she got her driver's license, her first date, getting her first job.

"Destiny's doing great," Eric said to me one day when he came to the cemetery. "You'd be proud of her," he added with a smile.

And I was…I was proud of both of them.

If I said it was torture watching Destiny's wedding, I would be lying. Yes, I cried while the wedding progressed like any other parent would with the added fact she didn't know I was watching. But the hardest part was probably just before they got ready to go down the aisle, Eric next to her. He told her he loved her, that she looked beautiful and that he wished I could be there to see this. Her eyes misted over when he said those words, admitting that she wished the same thing.

I wanted to tell them, "Cheer up, this was a wedding, you should be happy." But the truth was that, even if they could hear me, my throat was too tight to talk.

The doors leading down the aisle opened and the organ started to play. They both took a deep breath and began to walk past the pews in the church. Eric admitted that Destiny had made a good choice in choosing her husband and Eric liked him. But as they approached the alter, Eric found himself starting to dislike him and holding tighter to Destiny's hand with every step they took. I stood watching in baited breath, knowing the next few moments were going to shatter Eric's heart.

"Who presents this woman in marriage?" the preacher asked.

Destiny and Eric shared a look, she already had tears in her eyes and he was trying hard to keep his back.

"I do," Eric answered his voice thick as he placed Destiny's hand in the hand of her fiancée and let her go. He sat down in the front pew as he watched them exchange their vows. I took a seat next to him and put my hand over his as we watched our little girl become a wife. The look on Eric's face was clear, he felt as though he had lost someone else, number three of the girls he cared about. He lost his sister, he lost his wife and he suddenly felt as though he lost his daughter.

Torture was Eric was at home after her wedding. He was alone in the silent house, grasping the fact that his daughter wasn't a baby anymore who would be running into his room at any moment because she had had a nightmare. No, his baby girl was grown-up and now a wife; it was killing him to realize that fact.

I sat on the bed beside him to see the pain and loneliness in his eyes; I wrapped my arm around his waist.

"I know it's hard," I whispered. "But she's a smart girl, she's going to be fine."

He broke out an old photo album that night, all the way back to our wedding day onward. The first set of pages was of him, me and everyone at our wedding. Many of them consisting of us at the alter and then us at the reception, which was small, simple and perfect.

There were a few pages from our newlywed days, then pictures of my pregnancy, including all of Destiny's sonogram printouts. The next were her baby days, the pages slowly progressed as she aged including all the memories we thought were important to get; all her birthdays, Christmases, first steps, first day of school, first bike and everything else in between. We were always smiling in the pictures, just the way it should have been. After her six-year-old mark I was no longer in the album, but the smiles did eventually come back after sometime.

Torture was watching Eric die, even though he didn't feel anything. He slept his last night on his side of the bed, though it had been over forty years since my death he had never slept on my side of the bed. The sheets had remained uninhabited all those years and he didn't seem to have a problem with that. Eric went peacefully in his sleep, though I knew he would be on my side soon, I didn't want Destiny, her husband and their children to have to face his loss.

But torture soon turned to happiness as we saw each other for the first time in decades, he was back to the more youthful man I had married and he saw me as the same youthful woman. We embraced each other, my heart finally finding its way back to where it belonged. Everyone says that home is where the heart is, well my heart has always been with him. And now that I was finally home we could move on into the light…together.

The thing about torture is that it always ends.

Like I said, a bit sad (had to write something sad, it has been a rough few weeks) and a bit random, but I hope you liked it anyway. Please review!

Thanks :)