Note: Sorry for being MIA and leaving you all hanging! I didn't have a lot of writing time over the past month or so. My summer should be a little less crazy, though, so hopefully I can wrap this one up for you before too long. There will be one or two more chapters. :)

Calleigh awoke much more suddenly than she usually did, and as she blinked and took in her familiar room, she realized the shadows were just a little darker than they normally were when she typically woke at dawn. She tiredly glanced at her bedside clock in search of the time – 2:23 a.m. It was the middle of the night, and yet the house didn't feel quiet and still at all. She had the uneasy feeling that some sudden sound had woken her, and as her rational senses came back to her as she woke, she had one thought: Abby.

She listened carefully and finally heard it: a muffled sob, a door creaking, a sleepy and unsure "Mama?" off in the distance.

Calleigh closed her eyes, heart clenching.

They'd had such a good day yesterday – almost too good. Here was this little girl – more of a toddler, really – who had just lost her mother, and along with her, everything familiar in life. Her home, her bed, her routine. Calleigh had been floored that yesterday hadn't been full of meltdowns and confusion. But maybe it hadn't settled in yet, or maybe after being passed around from one person at one facility to another she was just so happy to have a more normal day, even if the surroundings were anything but.

Pushing the covers from her body, Calleigh stood quickly but quietly and padded barefoot into the hallway in her tank top and shorts.

"Abby?" she called out softly, glancing down the far end of the hall toward their office and guest room.

She heard a soft thump and a cry from far down the hall, followed by a louder, drawn out and tear-filled "Maaaama!"

Calleigh quickly made her way down the hall, passing the currently empty guest room where Abby had been sleeping and heading straight for the last room on the left: their office. There, she found Abby plopped down in the middle of the rug, looking confused and exhausted and like she'd completely given up on her half-asleep desperate search for her mother in unfamiliar and overwhelming surroundings.

Tears continued to fall down her cheeks as she choked back a sob and pointed aimlessly around the room. "Mama?" she asked again.

Calleigh's brows furrowed as she tried to keep tears of her own from escaping. Her heart was breaking for Abby, who had to continually relive losing her mother and realize over and over again that she wasn't going to see her again.

"Hey sweetheart," she said carefully to the half-asleep child as she bent down, gently cupping her head for a moment before she ran her hand down her curls and over her back. "It's Calleigh, I'm here."

"Calleigh?" Abby asked, sniffling and blinking as her eyes finally settled on Calleigh in recognition. Her lip trembled as one hand reached out for her, but then the other pointed aimlessly across the room in confusion. "Mama?"

"She's not here, baby," Calleigh said, her voice cracking slightly. "I'm sorry."

The words came out emotionally, but Calleigh was hesitant to pull Abby into her arms. Abby wanted her mother, and while every part of Calleigh wanted to comfort her, she somehow felt like she'd be attempting to fill a void that she never could even imagine trying to fill. So Calleigh simply sat there, on her knees, waiting for her to initiate contact, her hand on Abby's back as she watched the child take a few deep, unsteady breaths. She folded her legs in and actually sat down, and as soon as she did, Abby's hands were on her thigh as the little girl climbed into her lap.

Calleigh immediately pulled her close, closing her eyes and resting her cheek against Abby's head that automatically settled on her chest.

"Did you wake up and not remember where you were?" Calleigh asked carefully.

"Uh huh. And I had a bad dream," Abby said, and Calleigh could feel her heart racing against her own chest. "The house went boom."

Calleigh closed her eyes again and swallowed hard, having to take a deep breath before she spoke as she soothingly rubbed Abby's back. All this time, she'd been so focused on how Abby had lost her mother. She'd nearly forgotten Abby had gone through a traumatic event herself, getting trapped after an earth-shattering explosion, and now it all her emotions about it seemed to be compounding.

"I'm sorry," Calleigh said softly. "That's not gonna happen here. It won't happen again."

"Promise?" Abby turned her head, laying her cheek against Calleigh's warm chest.

How could she promise that? Could you really promise anything in this world anymore? Calleigh pressed her lips together and rolled them in thought before she assured her of the one thing she did know.

"I promise it won't happen here. I know this isn't your home, but you're safe here." She said it with so much certainty and empathy that Abby seemingly melted into her, fingers clinging to the shoulder band of her tank top.

As she seemed to settle and her breathing evened, Calleigh stood slowly and carefully, one arm wrapping under Abby as she carried her back to her room. She eased a knee onto the bed and then sat down, scooting until her back rested against the wall.

"We're trying to find your family so that someone you know can take care of you," Calleigh continued to assure, feeling like her unfamiliar surroundings and people were contributing to her unease.

"Family?" Abby asked curiously with a sniffle.

"Yeah," Calleigh said encouragingly. She was beginning to wonder if anyone had even asked her to try to get a sense of who she was close to, who her mother may have been in contact with the most. "Like aunts or uncles...grandma or grandpa…?" she tried, searching for signs of recognition from Abby.

But she just shrugged slowly. "Mama," was all she said, and because she was just three, Calleigh had no idea what exactly that meant and assumed she was just saying she only wanted to be with her mother.

They remained there, curled up together in the too-big-for-a-three-year-old guest bed, the only sound the heavy but gradually calming breaths of Abby through her parted lips and two reassuring heartbeats. Calleigh tilted her head back to rest it against the pillows and the wall, eyes beginning to grow heavy with sleep. They were just like that when, 15 minutes later, Eric quietly peeked in to check on the two of them. He leaned into the doorway, smiling as he watched a half-asleep Calleigh's eyes flutter and take him in.

"Hey," she mouthed silently, not wanting to disturb Abby when she'd finally settled. She sat up a little, one hand leaving its resting spot over Abby's back to push her weight up. Carefully easing Abby from her body, she began to move the toddler onto the bed. She was halfway toward settling Abby into a cocoon of blankets and pillows when she felt the little girl stiffen and clutch at her tank top, practically burrowing herself back into the crook of her neck.

"Hey, you're okay," Calleigh soothed, giving in and placing her once free arm over Abby's back again.

She gave Eric a look and he visibly melted, a little smirk tugging at one side of his lips as he nodded down the hallway towards their bedroom. He motioned for her with his hand, too, verifying that he was telling her to come back to bed, clingy toddler and all. And so Calleigh slipped from their guest bedroom, one of Eric's awaiting arms settling onto the small of her back as he led her back to their bedroom. Unable to take his eyes off Calleigh with that little girl, he helped her slip back into bed with Abby comfortably tucked against her chest. He settled in next to her and pressed an adoring kiss to Calleigh's shoulder, the moment feeling a little too perfect for Abby to be leaving them tomorrow.

Hillary made her way down the hall of the Miami-Dade Crime Lab, her stomach in knots as she clutched her Child Protective Services department-issue hand-me-down laptop. This case had been a mess from the beginning: a little girl lost amid the most tragic event to hit Miami in decades, her parents nowhere to be found, her mother's body eventually discovered with no will in place, no signs of family nearby. And somehow, it had just grown even messier. She was really not looking forward to this conversation.

It was a Catch 22 when law enforcement got involved in the well-being of a child on a case. On the one hand, she was grateful for the officers who truly lived out the protect and serve mantra. And she was always grateful when as many people as possible had a child's best interest at heart. On the other hand, it constantly made her feel guilty and powerless when they didn't understand how the system worked, when they didn't understand how much she didn't agree with what had to be done.

She had a sinking feeling this was going to be the latter this time.

She found the glass conference room easily, an odd, unexplainable flutter of hope stirring within her at the sight before her eyes. Officer Duquesne – Calleigh, she reminded herself – hadn't just set Abby up with a deputy and stowed her away in a room. She'd taken her work in there to keep her company, sitting adjacent to Abby probably just in case she needed to access anything on her computer not safe for three-year-old eyes. Abby had an array of things to keep her occupied: books, coloring books and crayons, fingerprinting supplies, and a couple miscellaneous toys. And Hillary had to admit that kid looked a million times better in Calleigh's care. No one at CPS unfortunately had the time to give the kids in their care much extra attention, and that meant that generally only basic needs were meant. Abby, on the other hand, looked comfortable in her own shorts and tank top that Calleigh had had picked up from her home. Her hair was clean and swept back into two perfect french braids, her face bright despite the week's events.

For once, Hillary was actually kind of glad that an officer had stepped a bit beyond the scope of her job. Because CPS had been inundated with cases this week and Abby was obviously in caring, capable hands for the past few days. Maybe that whole protective custody thing had been the best option for her.

Rapping on the glass, Hillary watched two pairs of eyes dart up to her. She waved at Abby and then met Calleigh's eyes, gently nodding towards the room next door to indicate she wanted to speak to her alone.

Calleigh was a trained and seasoned CSI, and she had damn good intuition on top of it all. She didn't need training or experience to tell her that Hillary was about to deliver bad news, and her expression fell as soon as she'd read Hillary's features. Calleigh excused herself from the room, resting a hand on Abby's shoulder and giving her a reassuring smile before she ducked out.

"Hey," Calleigh said as she met Hillary in the hallway. She motioned for Hillary to step into the next room and followed.

"Hi," Hillary said back. "How's she doing?"

"Not bad," Calleigh said honestly as they both took a seat, her across from Hillary at the conference table they also sometimes used as an interrogation table. "She really misses her mom, of course, but she's been surprisingly okay."

Hillary smiled sadly, and Calleigh picked up on it immediately.

"Who's she going with?" Calleigh asked, fearing that Abby's mother had a less-than-stellar brother, or a drunk mother who was next of kin.

Hillary bit her lip regretfully. "The county," she finally said, hesitantly meeting Calleigh's eyes. "Foster home, then hopefully adoption."

"What?"

Hillary nodded sadly. "It was complicated, but… That's what a judge ordered." She fished a stack of papers from her bag and set them on the table. "Her dad was completely separated from his family, and with good reason. He grew up on the wrong side of their hometown – drugs, alcohol, domestic disputes, the works. Turns out he really straightened himself out, fell in love with Abby's mom, joined the military, and never looked back. Abby's mother, Jenna, was only 17 when she got pregnant. Family didn't approve of the baby or him, and she emancipated herself from them and ran off with him. They were happy and lived a comfortable life on their own, but they'd completely cut ties with their families. Judge ruled that it was obvious they didn't want either side of the family involved, and that after site visits, it wouldn't be in her best interest."

Calleigh felt her heart sink, anxiety balling up in her chest as her eyes drifted to the glass wall between the two rooms and settled on Abby. She was filled with equal parts desperation and determination, and if her heart hadn't already made her mind up, it sure did when Abby looked up from the paper she'd been coloring on and gave her a hopeful little smile.

Calleigh cautiously smiled back before directing her attention back towards Hillary.

"Is it okay if I extend her protective custody a day?" Calleigh asked, a mystery motive hidden in her undertone.

Hillary gave her a questioning look. She wasn't sure why delaying this a day mattered, but she also wasn't going to pull Abby out of a situation in which she was clearly thriving despite everything.

"Sure," she said with a shrug.

Eric was poised over a set of fingerprints, brow furrowing as he leaned down and rested his eye against the magnifying device. He took in the ridges and loops, making a mental note, and then moved the glass to his reference samples. No match. He rose a little to be kind to his back and then checked another, comparing and contrasting for a moment. His eyes were carefully taking in the details of a unique arch when he heard the door. He knew it was Calleigh without even looking, could feel the soft weight of her eyes on him and knew that her lips were probably curving up slightly at the sight of him so diligently at work.

He was right, he confirmed as he looked up to find her leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest as she waited and watched. Despite the smile that always seemed to tease her lips when she took him in, she seemed a little tense. And she was definitely a little more subdued than usual, that curve of her lips fading as she stepped towards him, running her hand along the table and then leaning into it when she reached him.

"What's up?" he asked cautiously, sensing her mood. She was quiet for a moment, not responding immediately as she aimlessly stared at the table, seemingly collecting her thoughts. "Did Abby's family come for her?" he wondered aloud, trying to pinpoint the reason behind her mixed emotions. He knew the little girl's leaving was oddly going to leave a bit of a void in their hearts and their home, even after such a short time, but Calleigh didn't just seem a little down. He could sense the weight of a large decision on her shoulders.

"No," she said, and he wasn't sure if she meant not yet or not at all. But as her eyes flickered back to meet his with a mix of hope and disbelief in them, he knew exactly what she meant. And despite how serious she seemed, he felt a smile tugging at one corner of his lips.

"I know that look," he said with a hint of amusement. She had her heart set on something she wanted, and she wasn't letting go.

He watched her practically melt in front of him, turning so her back pressed against the examining table as her eyes clung to his.

"Her parents were estranged from their families. She's going into foster care." She crossed her arms protectively and determinedly over her chest, lips tightening into an attempt at a sad smile.

Eric's eyes grew serious as they held hers and he nodded in understanding, recognition flashing in his eyes as another smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Unless we intervene," he finished her thought for her, and a glimmer of a smile touched her lips for the first time since she'd walked in the room.

"Unless we adopt her," she clarified, hoping it didn't sound too crazy out loud. Oddly, it didn't, but she was still nervous it would. "…or foster," she added just in case.

"Adopt," Eric assured, smiling at the relief in Calleigh's softened eyes. "If we take her, it'd be permanently. She doesn't need anymore uncertainty."

Calleigh nodded in agreement, unfolding her arms to press her palms back against the table and clearing her throat. "So…"

Eric tucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, rubbing the rough stubble littering his cheek as the contemplated their options. "What about our plans? I mean, we have a certain appointment next week…"

Calleigh took in a deep breath, thinking it through but only for a moment. "We keep the appointment."

Eric eyed her suspiciously, one corner of his lips curving upward. "And what if you get pregnant?" he asked quietly, needing the confirmation.

Calleigh looked down and smiled mischievously before meeting his eyes again. "Well then I guess we would have two."

Eric pursed his lips to keep from smiling, but it was impossible when she was grinning like she was before him and saying those words. He nodded in agreement and acceptance, holding her gaze as they silently marveled at the potential, all too welcome chaos to come.