A/N: Set around ep. 4x08, "Nailed."

Chapter 10

Ryan scrubbed his eyes as he approached the crime scene, cursing Delko and sorely missing the sleep he so desperately needed.

Ten feet in front of him, Calleigh held up a power tool of some kind. "Is that a nail gun?"

The woman's brow crinkled when she heard a male voice she wasn't expecting. "What are you doin' here?"

"Exactly," Wolfe sighed.

"I thought this was your day off?"

"Should be, after twelve days straight," came the frustrated reply.

Damn it. "Eric didn't answer the call-out." Calleigh took a deep breath. This was becoming a pattern again for her best friend, but he wasn't talking yet. She knew something was bothering him, but she wanted to let him come to her on his own terms. If he kept this up, though, Calleigh would have to push the issue.

"Yeah, that's starting to become a habit. It's not the only one if you know what I mean."

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that," she growled softly.

Ryan rolled his eyes. Calleigh would defend Delko with her dying breath. It was pointless to complain to her. "Fine, what do we got?"

"Thirty-nine year old female, Brenda Hall…"

A few hours later, Eric exited the elevators to the Crime Lab, checking his watch as he went. He walked straight into Calleigh and Wolfe, the latter of whom wasted no time in greeting him.

"Oh, there he is. Nice of you to show up," the younger CSI spat, shooting him daggers with his tired eyes.

"What's your problem, Wolfe?"

"Must be nice to work on Delko Time, cherry-pick cases, show up when you want."

Eric might have apologized for missing the call-out, but any apology died on his tongue at Ryan's critical tone. What the hell does he know about me? I've worked here for over five years, and he's been here, what, one?

He bit back the desire to put Ryan in his place and focused on his best friend. "I had something I had to take care of. You need any help, Calleigh?"

"Yo, Eric. It's too little, too late," Wolfe interrupted.

The man was testing Eric's patience. "If I thought that you could even understand what I'm going through, I'd explain it to you."

Calleigh's eyes grew wide in alarm. Missing a call-out was one thing; picking a fight with a co-worker in the middle of the Crime Lab was another. "Okay, you know what, that is enough. I get it. Eric, we are fine. If I need extra help, I will call you. You, in the elevator with me, we're leaving now."

Eric sent Calleigh a hurt look as they parted ways, and she couldn't shake it as she boarded the elevator with Ryan, who was still complaining.

"You always take his side."

This is getting really old, Calleigh thought. "Funny, he always says the same thing about you."

Delko was driving like a mad man. Ten minutes ago he was headed to another crime scene when dispatch sounded over the radio. Wolfe was down.

He'd raced blindly to the location provided by dispatch, guilt sinking heavily to the pit of his stomach. It should have been him, not Ryan. The sight of the young man with a nail jutting out of his bloody eye was shocking, and Eric jumped into action, choosing to take his co-worker to the emergency room rather than wait for an ambulance.

Now, as they sped toward the hospital, Ryan sat in the passenger seat screaming. "Aaaaah! Aaah!"

Eric reached over and stilled the man's movements, keeping one hand on the wheel and one eye on the road. "Wolfe! Stay with me Wolfe!"

"Ahh, no!"

"You stay with me, we're almost there!"

The sirens, the sounds of the city flying by, the radio, Wolfe's screams—Eric knew this would stay with him, keep him up at night for months to come. It should have been me! he kept repeating to himself over and over.

"No, I gotta pull it out!" Ryan cried.

Eric gripped his companion tighter. "No, don't you dare pull it out, Wolfe! Take your hand off your eye! You take that nail out you could die."

Where the hell is our escort? For the hundredth time, Eric grabbed the radio and screamed instructions at whoever was listening. "This is car 529 heading east on Flagler. I need all units available for traffic assistance. Officer down! Repeat, officer down!"

He turned back to the man in the passenger seat. "Wolfe you stay with me, Wolfe. Alright? Stay with me we're almost there! C'mon!!" No response. Eric turned fully to observe Ryan, and his heart skipped a beat. "No, Wolfe, you're not going into shock! Come on! Stay with me!"

The radio, again. "This is Eric Delko, Miami Dade PD. I need a trauma team available at the entrance of the ER immediately."

Finally, the Hummer flew into the parking lot of the hospital, coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the ambulance bay. Eric jumped from the vehicle as he saw a team of doctors rushing toward them. Carefully, they pulled Ryan from the truck and onto a waiting gurney.

Eric watched helplessly as the doctors took control of the situation. "Check his vitals and contain the bleeding. Get me radiology, now. Sir, sir, you need to wait here."

"I wanna go with him," the Cuban man protested. He was responsible; he needed to stay with Wolfe and make sure he was okay.

The doctor stopped him with a hand to his chest. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."

Eric cursed inwardly and sent a hand through his hair in frustration. "Well, tell me what you're gonna do to him."

"Won't know until I can take x-rays, see if he's suffered any brain or optical damage."

"Fine, the minute that you know something I want to know."

"Okay," the doctor agreed as he hurried away.

Eric felt lost. He couldn't follow Wolfe into the trauma area, and he refused to leave until he had some news, but he didn't know what to do with himself until then.

Horatio walked up to Eric in the hallway, noticing his CSI's distress. As much as he felt for the man, Delko was in some deep water, here. "What happened, Eric?"

"I was about a block away when I heard dispatch," he sighed. "I never made it to the original crime scene. Did you?"

Horatio nodded. "I was there five hours ago. I didn't see you."

"Yeah, well I never got the page," Eric grimaced. "Dispatch was supposed to try me three times; they went straight to Wolfe."

Silence settled momentarily between the two men. "This is becoming a pattern, isn't it?" the red-headed lieutenant admonished gently.

"I've got some things going on," Eric admitted quietly. It was no excuse, really, and Horatio knew it.

H answered his buzzing cell phone as he responded to his friend, a little disappointed. "We all do Eric. Yeah, okay, just hold him there."

"We found the contractor," he explained as he made to leave. Eric wasn't off the hook. "We'll talk later."

Eric just stood dejected in the hallway, and watched his boss turn the corner at the end of the corridor. He headed to the waiting room to listen for news on Wolfe. When his phone rang an hour later, he'd received no report from the doctors.

"Delko."

"I need you on the scene, Eric, I'm sorry. We're short-handed."

"No problem, H. I'm leaving now."

"Thanks. Eric—" Horatio paused, "Wolfe will be fine. This is not your fault."

Eric wasn't so sure about that. "H we do need to talk," he admitted. "I know this isn't my fault, but we both know Ryan should never have been there."

Horatio was glad to see his CSI taking responsibility. He just needed to make sure Delko didn't beat himself up too much. "Eric, I don't need an explanation. You obviously realize that this needs to stop. I trust you to take care of it."

"Thanks, H. I'll, uh, check in with you later."

The line went dead. Something told Horatio that there was far more to this story than Eric's apparent carelessness. The thought stayed with him as he hung up the phone and went back to work.

Two hours later…

"Brenda Hall premeditated her own murder," Eric surmised in wonder.

H nodded his head in confirmation. "That's correct."

This case was definitely twisted. "Carl didn't kill her so who did?" Eric asked.

"Well, we're gonna have a better idea once we retrieve all of the evidence."

After he left the hospital, Eric went back to the crime scene and re-processed the entire area. "I thought we did. What did I miss?"

"Eric, visiting hours at the hospital conclude this evening at 8PM," Horatio commented cryptically. Part of Eric wondered if H actually knew what was going on. He suspected that his boss was aware of his whereabouts this morning, in his creepy omnipresent, omniscient way. He shook off the thought and returned his attention to Horatio.

"The nail in Wolfe's eye."

"That's correct."

The two men parted with a final nod of understanding, and Eric headed to the hospital. As he walked up the sidewalk toward the entrance, he spotted a familiar figure.

What the—? "Mari!"

"Eric!" His sister was genuinely surprised to see her brother there. Not as surprised as Eric was to see her, though.

"What are you doing here?" he asked worriedly.

Marisol sent him a cautioning glance. Calm down, little brother. "Just an appointment with my doctor."

"How come you didn't tell me this, this morning?" Eric pressed, his brow furrowing with concern.

"I didn't want you to worry."

"Marisol—"

"I just need to make sure," she admitted to her brother, begging him with her eyes to not freak out about this.

"Look, let me go in with you, okay?"

"No—you can't spend all your time with me," Marisol chastised, backing away from him gently when he reached a hand for her. "I'm fine… I'm fine!"

Calleigh spotted Eric as she walked out of the hospital's sliding doors. He was standing with a tall, thin woman, and, although Calleigh couldn't see her face, she could tell by the woman's graceful curves that she was obviously very beautiful. That explains a lot, Calleigh thought to herself and rolled her eyes. Please don't tell me he's started this again!

As the woman walked away, Calleigh caught her co-worker's eye. Eric jumped a little when he caught sight of the ballistics expert.

"Hey Eric…she's a pretty girl," Calleigh fished.

"Yeah," Eric trailed off, a little confused. "Look I was just on my way to see Wolfe's doctor, get the nail."

"I already picked it up."

"Beat me to it," he chuckled lamely.

Calleigh took a step forward. "Hey, Eric, whatever you've got going on with that girl you need to do it on your own time, okay?"

Anger flared in Eric, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he answered his best friend with a little sadness. "Before I lose my job?"

"Before you lose respect," she responded gently. Calleigh gave Eric a small smile and turned her back to him, heading toward her Hummer. Her heart was breaking a little to think that Eric still hadn't learned his lesson after all this time. Did their friendship mean nothing? Would he willingly throw his future away for a good time?

Something in Eric's chest broke a little that Calleigh still couldn't give him the benefit of the doubt after all they'd been through. He wasn't sure if he should be mad at Calleigh for not trusting him, or mad at himself for not giving her a reason to. His mind screamed to stop her before it was too late.

"You haven't seen her in a while. She's so thin," she heard quietly behind her. Calleigh froze and dropped her head. Of course. I didn't see it two years ago. I should never have missed the signs twice.

Without turning around to face Eric, she asked in disbelief, "That was Marisol?"

Eric sighed. "Yeah."

Calleigh crossed her arms and slowly turned around to face him. "Eric, I am so, so sorry."

"What, for Marisol or for jumping to conclusions?" He knew he shouldn't be angry with her, but he couldn't help it.

"Both," Calleigh answered, nearly inaudibly. She closed the distance between them. "That's where you were this morning. With Mari."

"Yeah," Eric responded, guilt setting in for his outburst at his best friend. "Look, I'm sorry for taking out my frustration on you. You don't deserve it."

"Maybe I do."

"No, you don't."

"Why didn't you tell me she was sick again? I thought we were past this."

Eric shuffled his feet and contemplated her question. "I don't know. She only started chemo about a month ago. We've been so busy with work, and I haven't seen you over at the house in a while…"

"That's no reason, Eric… does Natalia know?" Calleigh felt weird asking that last question, for some reason. But a part of her needed to know if Eric trusted his new girlfriend with what he couldn't confide in his best friend.

The man was genuinely confused. How did Natalia enter this conversation? "Does Natalia know what?"

"Know about Marisol," Cal clarified.

"Why would I tell her about Marisol?"

Now it was Calleigh's turn to be confused. "Well, you two are dating aren't you?"

"Just where are you getting your information?" Eric asked, amused.

The woman rolled her eyes, starting to feel a little silly. "I talked with Derek a couple weeks ago, and he said, and I quote, 'Eric's dating a new hottie.'"

Eric laughed. "And you automatically assumed that was Natalia…"

"Well, I did put a few clues together myself."

"Is it that obvious?" he asked nervously. Yeah, Eric was seeing Natalia. He wasn't exactly trying to hide it, but he didn't want the whole lab knowing the particulars of his love life.

Calleigh raised her eyebrows at the question. "To me? Yes. Kind of like Marisol being sick again should have been."

"Cal, don't do that. I should have told you sooner. As for Natalia… well, I guess you can say we're dating. 'Seeing each other' is probably a little more accurate. She doesn't even know my sisters' names, let alone that Mari had… has… cancer."

Calleigh offered Eric an apologetic smile, partly in an attempt to comfort him, but mostly in an effort to disguise what she was really feeling. She shouldn't have felt satisfaction that she still warranted Eric's primary confidences, nor should she have felt a tiny flutter of relief to hear Eric speak so flippantly of his relationship with the new DNA tech.

"So you two aren't serious," she pushed carefully.

"Not in the slightest," Eric responded immediately. "But if you're worried I'm falling on old patterns, Cal, don't do that either. I'm just not looking for my future wife at the moment."

Calleigh had the decency to blush. "I'm sorry I assumed. After our case the other day, you'd think I'd know better." Between Erica Sykes, the insane case with as many theories as investigators, and the tension pulsing between Eric and Ryan, that week was extremely interesting.

Something jarred loose in Calleigh's memory…

--FLASHBACK--

"Who borrowed the back-up kit last?"

"I did," Eric stated.

"There are no swabs, evidence bags, and the Mag light's dead."

"I meant to restock it, sorry."

Calleigh knelt down to Eric's kit. "I'm gonna borrow some of yours."

"Actually, I need those."

"I know the feeling," she groused lightly.

"Could you at least leave me a pair of gloves?"

"Yes, yours don't fit me anyway."

"Dude, are those rolling papers in there?" Wolfe noted suspiciously.

"They're not mine," Eric defended. "Someone must have borrowed the kit."

Calleigh smiled demurely. "At least they restocked it."

"Yeah, we really gotta crack down on the pot-smoking kit thieves around here."

Eric grew angry, this time. "I said they're not mine."

"Relax, Delko. I believe you. I hate it when people jump to conclusions, don't you?"

--END FLASHBACK--

"The rolling papers," Calleigh breathed suddenly, her eyes darting to lock onto Eric's.

"What about them?" Eric tried to steer her away from thinking about the papers Wolfe saw in his kit. She'd obviously made the connection, however.

"Eric you cannot do this."

"I told you they weren't mine. Calleigh, drop it."

"Eric!"

"Papers like that are used for a million different things, Cal. And besides, I told you, they are not mine." His eyes told her that she had to drop this line of questioning. He refused to let her be a part of this, whatever this was.

"Fine. But I want to know everything about Marisol," she said finally, already knowing that Eric wasn't going to tell her everything.

"It's not good, Calleigh," he sighed. "Look, can we talk about this later tonight? Now's not the time."

"Sure, after shift," she replied quietly. Then she added with a wink, "If you think Natalia won't mind."

Eric blushed. "She won't. Cal, if this is going to be a problem…"

"Relax, I'm not saying anything. As long as y'all don't get all hot 'n heavy in the evidence locker…"

"I do have some boundaries, you know."

"Are you sure, because—"

"Isn't there some kind of rule where we can't talk about this?" Eric laughed.

Calleigh just smirked at his reference to "rule number nine" and hit him on the arm as he walked past her toward the parking lot.