AN: Here is where I plead once again not to lose faith in me. It's my last semester of undergrad so most of my free time is going toward a.) passing my classes, and b.) trying to fluff up my resume/portfolio and hopefully get a job. However, I got my wisdom teeth taken out yesterday and am not allowed to do anything but chill out for the next few days. As such, I was awoken in the middle of the night by a horrific pain as my meds have stopped working. So, while I wait for my Vics to kick in, I figured I'd work a bit on my baby. Enjoy!


Chapter Seven

Eric felt the papers he was holding fall from his hands as they began to shake. Soon. The word shouted off the page at him, echoes of it whispering through his mind. He picked the threat up after a moment and flipped to the second-to-last page. Mr. Wacops. Joseph Wacops—the guy who had killed Katie.

He certainly had motive to want Eric dead—after all, it was his testimony that had put him away for life. Wacops was certainly unhinged enough to threaten someone this way. If there was one thing to be grateful about this time, it was that this particular warning hadn't come attached to a dead body.

Eric stood and refolded the papers, stuffing them into the envelope and the whole package into his back pocket. He was about to and find Horatio, when a recent headline shot through is memory.

Wacops was dead. He'd been killed in prison. Eric struggled to remember, had all of this started before or after that? He took out the printed testimony and read it over again. In his mind, he looked past the attorney, past Wacops at the defense table, and over to the side of the prosecution, where Wolfe had been standing in the back. His arms had been crossed over his chest, Calleigh's small hand tucked into the crook of his elbow. Eric remembered, when the sentence had been read, he had turned around just in time to catch the small, grateful smile Ryan had shot his way.

The memory of that smile forced Eric to his feet and sent him, not to find Horatio, but to trace. To someone who deserved to know what was going on.

Wolfe nearly dropped the microscope he'd been using to scrutinize bed linens. "Did you just say Wacops?" he asked, his voice soft but firm.

"I don't know what's going on," Eric admitted. "But it's definitely got something to do with him."

"He's dead, Delko—how could it have anything to do with him?"

Eric swallowed hard, rethinking his rash judgment. Work wasn't the place to have brought this up. "I know that, Wolfe. But I'm telling you what I know and that's that it's either got something to do with him or someone wants me to think it's got something to do with him."

Wolfe, his mouth set in a hard line, held out his hand. "Give it to me."

"What?"

"Give me the goddamn papers and we'll settle this right now."

Eric handed them over and followed reluctantly to Fingerprints where he watched Ryan's futile effort to dust. "Wolfe, I don't think you're going to find anything."

"Seeing a lot of yours," he grumbled, almost to himself. "Guess it's too much to ask that you wear gloves when you're handling evidence."

"I didn't realize it was evidence until it was already handled." He ran a hand through his hair. "He didn't leave any the last time."

"The last time?" Wolfe stood abruptly and set to work lifting the prints he'd uncovered. "How long has this been going on? And did it ever occur to you that I might not be the best person to come running to with this?"

"Look, I'm going to tell Calleigh. I just thought—"

"You just thought what? That by ignoring it, you'd make it go away?"

"I just thought you'd want to know, Wolfe."

"Calleigh wants to know," Ryan shut him down quickly. "Calleigh's been going crazy the last few weeks trying to figure out what the hell's going on with you and you've been hiding something like this?" He shook his head as he scanned the prints into the computer. "This isn't just about you, Delko—this is about your whole family. And if you don't smarten up, you're going to lose them just like…" Ryan's eyes dropped to the keyboard.

They both fell quiet until a beeping issued from the monitor. "They're mine," Eric said quietly. "He didn't leave any prints the last time either."

Ryan nodded. "Well you've got me on board, Delko—whatever you need."

They looked at one another for a long time. "I didn't mean for this…"

"Talk to your wife, man," he handed him back the packet of papers. "Before it's too late."

"Yeah," Eric tucked them into his back pocket. "I'm gonna get back over to trace—I'll finish up those sheets."

"I'll be over in a minute." Ryan watched his friend retreat, guilt for snapping seeping through him slowly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and willed away the memories that were surfacing.

Maxine's eyes were red-rimmed from unshed tears, her fingers zipping her diamond charm along its chain. She stood up as he entered the room. "Ryan they're not…" she motioned helplessly to the autopsy room. "They won't tell me anything."

He placed a hand on either of her quivering shoulders. "Max…Eric said…"

"I know what Eric said," she squeaked. "But I mean…he could be wrong…right?" Any control she'd had over her voice began to falter once again. "He could be wrong—have you seen her?"

"No," Ryan felt nearly too exhausted to shake his head. "I haven't."

"Then…then it could not be her, right?" Maxine's eyes welled up again. "Eric could've been wrong—she could still be out there—waiting for us…"

Unable to watch her fall apart any longer, Ryan pulled her close and shut his eyes tightly while her tears stained the collar of his shirt. "She's not, Max," he pushed the words up from his throat. "She's gone."

Ryan looked at the computer screen in front of him, closing out the print scan, a sense of determination bubbling in his stomach. He might have lost his family to Joseph Wacops, but he'd be damned if the same thing happened to his best friends.

0x0x0

Although Eric had intended to wait for Calleigh's return, pull her outside and unburden himself, the opportunity did not arise. He was dispatched to a domestic dispute-turned homicide before she and Natalia returned from their scene. They found themselves on opposite sides of the lab for most of the day. He was signing off on his last report of the day when Eric felt a familiar brush of fingers flutter against the back of his neck.

"Hey there, good lookin'," Calleigh came around and perched herself against his desk.

"Hey yourself," he smiled up at her and capped his pen. "Feeling okay?"

She rested a hand on the beginnings of her belly. "So far so good," she smiled, a golden lock falling into her face as she stole a quick glance downward.

"You all done for the day?"

Calleigh nodded. "And so are you," she stood and moved behind him, squeezing some of the tension from his shoulders. "I'm taking you out for dinner, big guy."

Eric smiled and leaned back against her. "Aren't I supposed to be the one pampering you these days?"

He heard her grin. "And here I thought you'd never ask. C'mon—let's go."

"Cal, what happened to penny-pinching?" Eric allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"We have no food in the house," Calleigh began listing things on her free hand. "Payday isn't until Friday, and we," she wrapped his arms around her and rested their hands on her abdomen, "feel like treating you to a Dollar Menu feast."

Eric laughed and spun her back to face him. "Dollar Menu, huh? Since when do you want to eat that crap?"

She shrugged. "I've given up control of my appetite—I'm just happy I can keep food down again."

"What about the kid?"

"Taken care of," she smiled up at him. "He's with your mom until later—she said she'd drive him to soccer when she takes Ana to dance."

"What a woman," Eric commented with a shake of his head. They were on their way to the car when he stopped her again. "You called my mom and made sure Lucas got there after school, right?"

Her brow furrowed. "Of course I did. Everything's fine."

"You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." She fastened him with a look. "Are you sure everything's fine?"

Eric felt his shoulders drop with the weight of the last few days. "No, Cal—it's not. I've got to talk to you."

Calleigh nodded, the slightest look of relief passing through her eyes. "I was hoping you would say that." She jingled her keys. "Come on, we'll load up on grease and then you can tell me what's going on."

The simple admission of the problem was almost enough to clear away the tension while they went through the drive-thru and ordered burgers and fries, talking about their work day, stealing bites of one another's food. It almost reminded him of the old days. Suddenly, Eric felt incredibly stupid for keeping these threats a secret. This was Calleigh. Who had been his best friend before she'd been anything else. Calleigh who he shared his life and his son with—who was bringing two new babies into their lives, regardless of what else was going on. Ryan and Horatio had been right—she deserved to know.

He was summoning his courage to tell her everything—start fresh, from the beginning—when the pulled onto their street.

He heard the sirens first. Police sirens. And then the fire trucks—still coming from a few blocks away, despite the engine that had parked in front of the house.

Calleigh's hands had come off the wheel and were cupped around her mouth in shock. She stared at the townhouse for a few long moments before she turned to Eric. "I believe there was something you needed to tell me?"

And any other thoughts Eric might have had were dissolved as he realized that the patrol cars and the fire engine had parked in front of his house.

His house.

Engulfed in flames.


AN: Dun dun dun. I don't know...this looks a lot longer in my Word Processor than it does on here...really sorry about that. But I felt it was a good stopping point, yeah? I fear I may have lost some of you in my lack of updates…I hope that's not true. You know you have my eternal love—may I have a bit of the same?