Note: I just want to say thank you again for all the reviews! I originally worried about posting again so long after I'd been writing here and after the show had been over, but you guys have been awesome! I think it's part of why I've been so quick to update. Here's the next. Happy Monday, everyone. :)
When the door to his room began to creep open, Eric was about to be a little annoyed. For as much as everyone wanted him to rest here, the hospital was just about the worst place to actually relax. If it wasn't a nurse checking in on him, it was a constant string of friends and family – which he was very grateful for, really, but he could also use a little alone time. And time to actually focus on the little card and board games his neurologist had recommended to speed up his motor skills, which was why he was currently laying out a game of Solitaire.
At the flash of blonde hair he caught in his peripheral vision, though, all semblance of annoyance left his body. Calleigh. It was strange; she'd made him tense and anxious for months. She was the reason for many sleepless nights and some days he'd left work feeling completely drained from burying feelings and memories. And yet since he'd been in here, she'd been this ridiculously calming presence, from confidently assuring him he'd get his reaction time back while pushing him a little – not because she was pressuring him, but because she knew he'd want her to – to meeting his eyes with an amused smile and raised brows every time his sisters got carried away talking about the "babywarming" party they wanted to throw them that was turning into a rather extravagant affair.
"Hey," she said with a smile that lit up the room. Now that she'd relaxed and was sleeping full nights at home, she was looking completely refreshed. Where she'd had a little darkness beneath her eyes when he first came to, she was well-rested and bright-eyed now. Her skin and eyes had their usual glow, and she'd taken her time getting ready: hair perfectly straightened with just a bit of curl at the end, a touch of make-up over her face, and wearing a well-fitted chambray shirt over black jeans.
"Hey," he echoed back, that smirk of his gracing his lips as he waited for her to notice. It didn't take long.
"Ooh," the said as she sunk into the new-to-his-room comfy chair. As far as hospital chairs went, it was pretty great: well-cushioned, cozy, and reclining. She immediately turned onto her side a little and pulled her feet up. "Where did this come from?"
He watched her cozy up out of the corner of his eye as he laid a queen of hearts down. "I think Taylor snagged it from some old person room for you. She said she was tired of seeing you change position a billion times an hour in their god-awful chairs. Her words, not mine."
"I knew she was my favorite," Calleigh said, peeking out toward the nurses' station to see if she was around to thank. And then, turning her attention back to Eric, she watched him play, smiling when he laid the next card down before she'd even registered where it should go. He was better already – and he looked it, too, the color coming back to his face, actual clothes from home adorning his body. "Hey, I brought you a present."
"Oh yeah?" He paused, fixing his attention wholly on her as she pulled a small box out of her bag.
She leaned forward, sliding it onto his bedside table, and he smiled a little in recognition. Trivia cards, because the neurologist had also said he could mix those in while performing motor skills to really shake things up.
"Thank you," he said gratefully. "You can quiz me later."
At the mention of later, she asked, "What's the word on you getting discharged today?"
"Sounds like it's happening, but the doctor still has to sign off on it...which could take forever." Sighing, he set the card in his hand down, completely pausing his game as he met her eyes. "About this whole going home with me thing…" he began, shaking his head at the thought. "I really appreciate it, but you don't have to do this."
"Eric," she began to level with him, "You heard what the doctor said yesterday. You're still at risk. You could have a seizure, you could hemorrhage in your sleep and not wake up…" Her eyes had already gone wide at the possibilities, and she pushed herself out of the comfortable chair to half-sit, half-lean against his bed – a gesture that was becoming a little more tense and hesitant the further from life-or-death his situation became. "You're gonna need someone around. Not to mention you're exhausted and still recovering. You're going to need some help."
"I know all that," he assured her, letting out a frustrated breath. "And between my parents, sisters, and everyone at CSI, I'm sure someone can be over enough."
"That's not the same as having someone at home with you," she pointed out.
Rationally, he knew that she had a point, but he was stubborn and determined. And the real reason he was trying to talk her out of it was that he knew the two of them alone at his home would be a timebomb waiting to explode one way or another.
"Calleigh," he said, his voice going low and serious. "You have a lot going on. You're supposed to be in Seattle working with the FBI." A dry smile curved his lips at the sight of her here instead, neglecting both jobs for him. "You've done more than enough for – " He stopped short, not wanting to say 'for what we are' or anything else that would stir up emotions they were desperately trying to keep simmering below the surface. "Me," he said instead.
"It's fine," she insisted, shaking her head and shrugging. "I'm pretty much done with all the lab work and we're writing the report now. I can do that from anywhere."
Okay. Eric ran a frustrated hand over the back of his neck, hugging the tight muscles there for a moment. He was going to have to get a little more specific.
"I'm just not sure it's such a great idea," he said lightly, a sad smile tightening his lips. "You and me in the same house…" he continued, eyes pointedly drifting over her changing body before settling on her face again, easily reminded of what a weakness he had for those green eyes of hers. "You know how I feel."
Calleigh swallowed hard and looked away, aimlessly focusing on the view of downtown Miami from his window. She was afraid – terrified, even – of this conversation, of what it would lead to. And she really didn't want to have it here, now, in a hospital and before she'd had time to process the revelation. But it was clear there was no way he was letting her stay with him under the current circumstances, and she honestly needed to be there with him, to know that he was okay, as much as he literally needed someone to be with him for medical reasons.
And despite how scared she was, she was sure. She knew the moment she thought something was wrong. It hadn't just been that she could've lost a best friend, or even that her daughter could've lost her father. It was more. It was Eric. The moment Natalia had finished telling her he'd been shot, her heart had clenched at what she could be losing: never knowing what it was like to be with him without grief as an excuse, never again feeling the rush that swept through her veins when his fingertips brushed her cheek as he tucked her hair behind her ear, never getting to tell him how she felt because she was scared and putting too many other things first.
As cliche as it felt, people were right. Nearly losing someone does something to you. They'd already danced around their feelings and attraction to one another for five years. They weren't guaranteed another five, or even one.
"Eric," she began, her fingers finding his and wrapping around a hand that was hesitant to hold hers back. But as his eyes drifted from their joined hands to her own eyes, a little smile he'd never seen from her before played across her lips. "I like you, too," she finally admitted, the words feeling trite and silly as she sat here in front of him, six months pregnant, but that was where they were at. Both needing to fill the silence and feeling a little too vulnerable, she added, "Can you just let me do this?"
But before he could respond, before he could even react to her admission, his mother and sister barged into the room, filling it with loud Spanish words and laughter that bled in from whatever conversation they'd been having in the hallway. And as the room came to life with chaos around him, he felt it all in slow motion, only able to focus on Calleigh and the apologetic, knowing smile gracing her lips.
She squeezed his hand before she released it to join the chaos, his eyes never leaving her, his thoughts on how she'd just turned his world upside down again.
He'd let her take him home. He'd even let her stock his fridge and make some delicious cajun pasta concoction that had him seriously questioning whether he'd actually died in that hospital and gone to some crazy but near-perfect form of heaven.
And so he'd insisted on helping her clean up, despite her many protests about him doing too much and being on his feet too long. He might have listened to regular Calleigh, but he was having trouble letting pregnant Calleigh do so much for him. So he'd stayed on his feet a little longer than he should have, drying dishes and helping her return things to their appropriate resting places in his kitchen.
Now they were settling themselves into his living room, his legs stretched out on the sofa, her at the other end with her legs resting on his large ottoman.
"How's the head?" she asked, but he was more focused on the way her hand come to rest on the underside of the bump of her abdomen. She'd been doing that a lot lately, and he wondered if it was just a new, protective habit, or if it was a response to feeling her kick. It made him feel a little left out to be so distanced from them, so out of tune with what was going on when she was literally right next to him.
It made him ache, and brought his thoughts back where they'd gone a million times that day: her words in that hospital room, the guarded but hopeful smile on her lips.
"It's fine," he answered distractedly, though he took a moment to stretch and test the stiffness of his neck. His head really was fine at the moment. He'd taken his painkillers, anti-inflammatories, and blood thinners as prescribed just before they'd sat down, but he was doubting that would do anything for the tightness at the base of his skull – a product of getting shot, being motionless in surgery for hours and a coma for days, and then sitting in a hospital.
He nodded toward that hand over her stomach as he asked, "Is she kicking?"
Calleigh's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, aimlessly dancing over the wall as she waited. "Not kicking. Just...moving a lot." Her gaze returned to him, smiling at the way he was studying her. "Wanna feel?"
Eric sat up a little, tucking his legs in as he shifted to her side of the sofa. She reached for his hand and laid it where hers had been, pressing his touch into her belly a little. She knew by the smile that crept across his lips that he felt her, and she relaxed back into the sofa, resting her head atop the cushion.
She left her hand over his this time, her fingers slipping between his. At a particularly noticeable movement, she turned her head to lay her cheek against the cushion and watched him chuckle.
"Seriously, what's she doing in there?" he asked, eyes flitting between their hands and Calleigh's face. "Is that normal?"
"I don't know." Calleigh shrugged, a little laugh of her own escaping her lips. "Swimming?" she surmised. "She is your child…"
At that reminder, at the closest "normal" moment they'd had during this whole experience, he brushed his thumb against hers, the way she looked at him changing as the mood between them shifted.
"Calleigh...about what you said earlier…" he began, a little surprised by the way she held his gaze.
"Yeah." She pressed her lips together, then tucked a leg in and turned to face him, her hand abandoning his to prop her head up, his hand gliding along her shirt as she turned until his palm was pressing against her side. "So I'm not great at the whole talking thing."
"I think you're better than you think you are," he said, because he knew. He'd seen her get personal enough times with victims and witnesses, and she'd talked him through his share of frustrated and emotional days. She was great at that; she just didn't often open up about her feelings that often.
She smiled at his words, and at the hint of a playful sparkle in his eyes. "I'll work on it," she promised honestly. If they were really going to do this, she knew she had to be different – no secret worries or festering concerns. Eric was open and honest; he could easily talk about how he felt, and he deserved the same in return.
"I was actually gonna say we don't have to talk about it," he said playfully, taking in her amused eyes. "It didn't seem like you planned on telling me that today...more like you kinda had to so I'd let you come home with me."
She bit her lip. He was right, and he'd practically just thrown her a free pass on not talking about her feelings, which was tempting. His meds were probably also about to kick in, which meant now definitely wasn't the time for a deep and emotionally draining conversation, and yet she needed him to know. If this week was anything, it was a reminder that you were never guaranteed another week, or even day, to tell someone how you really felt.
"I did," she admitted, taking a deep breath and releasing it before she met his eyes again. "I still don't fully know how I feel, and I'm still worried about work and our careers and the team, but…" She paused, swallowing hard and shaking her head before she returned her gaze to him "I want you to know...when Natalia called me, it felt like my world just slipped out from under me."
She felt his hand stir at her side. When she'd turned to him, his hand had landed along the side of her belly, questionably still touching her for the sake of feeling the baby. But at some point his hand had definitely moved to her waist, and now it was reassuringly rubbing her side as he watched her, brows furrowing emotionally.
"The things I was thinking about, what I'd be losing if I lost you," she continued, her voice breaking a little. "It's not the way I'd feel about a coworker, or a friend." She smiled sadly, shrugging when she was at a loss for words. "I don't know. It made me wonder if you were right."
He didn't interject, just watched her quietly, silently questioning, waiting.
"That if there's any chance, we should at least see where it goes," she said, her free hand finding his at her waist and curling her fingers around his from behind. She looked down for a moment, taking in his gorgeous skin against hers, the swell of her belly that seemed to grow by the day, before returning her glossy eyes to his. "I can't imagine losing you and never knowing, never giving us a chance," she admitted, and when she moved their hands over her stomach again he knew she didn't just mean the two of them.
Eric sighed, eyes dancing over her with emotion before he pulled himself closer to her, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other cupping her jaw as his palm splayed across her cheek.
"I'm not going anywhere," he promised her, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers, her hand finding his side. He kissed the corner of her mouth softly and she smiled, closing her eyes and reveling in being here with him, in finally knowing he was okay.
"Good."
"Told you you were good at this," he said knowingly, watching her eyes flutter and her smile spread.
She sighed, tipping her head just enough to press her lips to his and letting her fingers fist enough of his shirt to tug him closer. Her lips slid against his once, twice, and he coerced a third from her before she pulled back to take in his heavy eyes: a mix of emotion, desire, and unfortunately some pretty potent painkillers.
"You should get some rest," she suggested softly. Lifting her hand and running her fingers over the large muscles in his shoulder, she pressed them into the tightly coiled knots at the base of his neck. "How's your neck?"
He closed his eyes, not wanting to pull away from her but unable to resist the lull of medication and the rather amazing way her hand was finally relieving the tightness that had plagued his upper body since he'd woken up in the hospital. Shifting slightly, he leaned back into the couch, letting his head rest there and giving her better access.
"How'd you know?" he asked, eyes already heavy with sleep.
"'Cause you keep messing with it and I'm paid to be observant." She smiled, watching him relax under her touch, a little groan escaping his lips as she cupped the base of his neck and worked her fingers into either side.
"That feels amazing," he breathed out, turning his head a little for her and exhaling as tension began to leave his body. His hand sought her out again, his fingers curving over the back of her knee. "Stay with me tonight," he requested softly. Though the plan had been for her to stay with him, she knew what he meant – in his room, where he could fall asleep with her comforting body next to his and she could sleep easy without worrying about him from the other room. "Just to sleep," he clarified, and she laughed a little because even though he could barely stay awake right now she wouldn't put it past him to push the bounds of his recovery.
"Of course," she uttered, watching his eyes flutter back open as her fingers slowed and eventually stilled. "Let's go before you fall asleep on me here."
He was slower than her as they rose, surprising her when he instead wrapped his arms around her again now that they were standing. His fingers brushed over her cheek, stealing her breath from her as they continued into her hair and gently tucked it behind her ear. Then he leaned in, pressing a slow, sleepy kiss to her lips before he took her hand in his, leading the way to his room.