Chapter Twenty-One
Crushing Pain
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The sun was quickly setting in the western sky, fading away once more as the dark of night was ushered in behind it. Calleigh had the most perfect view of the slowly darkening sky, and on any other night, she might've appreciated the beauty of it.

But tonight, all it signified was another day gone by. It was a beautiful sight, and Calleigh certainly did have wonderful memories attached to watching the sun set, but for the past few months, the setting sun has represented nothing but crushing pain. Her entire life, her entire being has represented nothing but crushing pain.

In the beginning, Calleigh had been able to handle this, no problem. But then again, in the beginning, Jake had never been away for more than a few days, a couple of weeks at the very most. Calleigh had been able to distract herself with work, with shopping on the weekends, or with, her favorite activity while he was away, planning the perfect way to welcome him home.

But as time went on, and Jake's assignments became longer, more dangerous, Calleigh found herself sinking into a bit of an unavoidable depression. If she could keep busy, then she was fine. But not even she could work four straight shifts without collapsing, and after the first night that she crashed at work, her supervisor began sending her home after every double shift, much to Calleigh's dismay.

With less work came fewer ways to distract herself from her thoughts, and the longer that Jake was gone, the less she could concentrate on welcoming him home because her mind became so saturated with thoughts of him hurt, or worse. She knew it wasn't good for her to worry about him all the time, but it just wasn't something she could turn off. If she ignored the thoughts during the day, she would only dream them at night.

And soon the worrying began taking not only an emotional toll on her, but it began to affect her physically as well. It began with the churning in her stomach, which at first she passed off as a bout of food poisoning. But it didn't go away after a few days; instead, it only grew more intense. The nausea killed off any desire to eat. She was losing weight, she wasn't sleeping, and she looked and felt terrible.

But as soon as Jake would return home, all of that lifted. He always seemed to come home just before Calleigh reached her breaking point.

The problem was, every time she avoided it, that breaking point became farther and farther away, leaving Calleigh to fall farther and farther each time Jake left.

She accepted the vague answers, the lack of contact, even the lies as part of his job. It was all part of what he did for a living. But what she couldn't accept was the downward spiral she tumbled through each and every time he left her alone.

She was letting it kill her, even though she knew she was stronger than that.

Eventually, she was going to break. It was merely a question of what was going to break – her heart, or her resolve.

Her light green eyes slightly glazed, she gave a deep sigh as the final sliver of sunlight disappeared beneath the horizon. It was what it was; another day without a phone call, another day without his presence, another day without any word at all. Calleigh could only hope and pray that, wherever Jake was, he was alive and well, and on his way home. Until then, the days would pass as heavily as this one, giving way only to sleepless nights.

And Calleigh wasn't sure how many more sleepless nights she could take. She needed to be able to fall asleep wrapped in his arms with the promise of waking up there as well. Until then, there was no way she could hope for a full night of restful sleep.

Vaguely her mind was penetrated by a sharp ding from the microwave, letting her know that tonight's bland TV dinner was done, but Calleigh made no move to retrieve it. These days, eating was something that Calleigh merely went through the motions of; something she only put the bare minimum of effort into. She knew it was dangerous; she knew she was slipping back into the same behavior that always seemed to overtake her whenever Jake disappeared for too long, but despite knowing what it was doing to her, she still couldn't stop it. She didn't want to eat, nor did she ever seem to feel hungry. And besides, eating only served to upset her already worried stomach.

But the fact remained that, in order to function, Calleigh had to eat, meaning every night was filled with those tasteless, not-so-filling TV dinners; dinners that Calleigh still only choked down about half of.

With a resigned, heavy sigh, Calleigh crossed to the microwave, barely able to find the effort to pull her dinner from it. As soon as she pulled back the cover on the tray, the scent hit her nose, sending her stomach into convulsions. Bowing her head, Calleigh closed her eyes tightly, willing the nausea to pass.

It didn't, not completely, but after a moment Calleigh was able to stomach the thought of eating again. Briefly she speculated that perhaps her nausea was actually brought on by the content of the food, and not the idea of eating. It was the same thing every night – mashed potatoes that tasted vaguely like cardboard, a small serving of corn that only really looked like corn if Calleigh left the tray in the microwave for just the right amount of time, and the main course, a couple of pieces of chicken that tasted like no real chicken that Calleigh had ever eaten.

But still, she couldn't bring herself to pick out anything different. She couldn't bring herself to actually cook anything either; that would bring back way too many painful memories. So it was this TV dinner, or nothing.

Silently Calleigh picked up the tray and began heading toward her dining room. Eating at the table was more habit than anything; it would be far less painful to eat her dinner on the living room couch, but the idea of dropping crumbs into the cushions and attracting ants wasn't a thought she wanted to entertain.

What also wasn't preferable was the path Calleigh had to follow to the dining room. It gave her a perfect view of the foyer, the front door; and Calleigh couldn't help the hopeful way she gazed in that direction every single night, wishing nothing more than to see him walk through that door.

It was something she just couldn't give up on, no matter how long Jake was gone.

With a heavy sigh, Calleigh forced her feet to continue carrying her to the dining room, halfheartedly dropping her tray of food down on the table. As she took a seat, she couldn't bring herself to ignore the obvious – this just wasn't right.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Calleigh allowed her mind to take her back once more to a night that felt almost as though it were an eternity ago. But unlike most memories, instead of fading over time, this was a memory that only grew clearer, more intense with each day that passed. She was there so viscerally in her mind. She could still see the soft light of the candles of the table, filling the entire room with such a warm, inviting glow. She could still sense the warm, slightly vanilla scent of those candles, a scent that mixed wonderfully with the mouthwatering aroma of the elaborate dinner before her. And across the table from her was the reason for her bubbly happiness – Jake. There was nothing like losing herself in Jake's deep chocolate eyes by the glow of candlelight. The way he looked at her already made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, but somehow this went even beyond that.

Calleigh had done so well in moving past her childhood, but she couldn't deny that it was nights like this that remnants of her past came back to haunt her – she couldn't help but feel somewhat undeserving of Jake's…love? Calleigh wasn't sure if she would call it that yet, not this early, but it was certainly something. Whatever it was, he absolutely knew how to make her feel like a princess.

It hadn't been any sort of special occasion, that night. It was just Jake's idea of the perfect romantic seduction. And perfect it most certainly was; he'd somehow managed to slip away from work early in order to make it home and take his time making Calleigh's favorite dinner, complete with a delectable dessert. It was affectionate teasing between them - that if for nothing else, Calleigh would have to keep him around just for his cooking. The man was a master in the kitchen.

The rest of the memories from that night followed in a flood, sending the most exquisite shivers through her entire body, just as had happened that night. His fingertips, his lips, the most passionate, breathtaking kisses; the feelings, the shivers…Calleigh had never felt so treasured.

But it was a double-edged sword; those were the memories that made her miss him even more when he was gone; those were the dreams that had her awakening in the middle of the night, his name on her lips. And this was the longest he'd ever been gone. It truly hurt to have to eat dinner alone every night, to go to bed alone every night, to wake up in the mornings wanting his arms around her so badly. It was taking such a deep toll on her heart.

And she didn't even know how many more nights of this she was to face. It could be days, it could be weeks. Or it could be months, like it had already been.

There was always the possibility that she may never see him alive again. If there was anything that could put a stop to her heartbeat, it was that thought, and it was getting harder and harder to keep that thought out of her mind.

Calleigh honestly didn't know how much longer she could put herself through this.

Was there a point where she would finally have to draw the line? And just where was that point? Had she already passed it, or was she creeping closer to it with every night?

How many more beautiful nights could she spend with him, only to spend the same number of nights alone? How many more lonely dinners could she suffer through? How much longer could she put herself through this physical and emotional torture?

In the end, it all came down to one truth. Calleigh had a decision to make. Wait for him, or walk away from him?

Was being with him worth the crushing pain?

..

"It's not the same."

They were the four words that left Calleigh's lips in a defiant whisper every time those thoughts tried to creep into her mind. It had first started to hit her, two nights ago as she sat down at the table with only a bowl of soup for company. She'd ended up pouring most of that bowl of soup down the drain in disgust. It was amazing how quickly long-forgotten habits could return to a person in their entirety, even after a decade had passed.

But Calleigh was stronger than that this time, and, as she kept telling herself, it wasn't the same. There was no way she was going to let herself slip so far backward, not again.

For starters, Jake wasn't in danger. He wasn't in any danger. He wasn't getting involved in his old lifestyle again; he wasn't doing anything that might get him killed. He was perfectly fine; he was just in New Orleans with family. He would be coming home any day now. Jake was fine.

There was absolutely no reason for the slight feeling of unease that had fallen over her. It was only barely noticeable, usually only making itself known to Calleigh when she had nothing else to distract her, but it was there nonetheless. She couldn't explain it, either. The only reason she could come up with for it was that it had been a few days since she and Jake had spoken. A few days ago, he'd said he'd be home in a few days, and as far as Calleigh was concerned, a few days had passed.

She knew what part of the problem was – Calleigh just didn't like not knowing. It was what had nearly killed her all those years ago, not knowing if Jake was alive or not, or if he was ever coming home to her. And now she was remembering how that had felt, albeit on a much smaller scale. She knew he was fine; she just didn't know when he was coming home, and in her opinion, he should've been home by now.

Surely that was what was making her anxious. It couldn't be anything else…could it?

Feeling the sudden vibration of her phone at her hip, Calleigh pushed away those negative thoughts, bringing herself back to the case at hand as she answered it. The week before, she'd managed to successfully avoid Eric after the moment they'd shared during the investigation at the beach house, but that case had since been closed, as had the one Calleigh had switched to. It hadn't been long before she and Eric were once more paired together. It hadn't been as awkward as she'd been afraid it would be, but that didn't mean she was as comfortable working with him as she'd once been either.

Listening to the details – Eric had returned from the scene and was getting ready to try and find a decent fingerprint from a piece of evidence – Calleigh gave a quiet sigh, knowing she was going to have to face him sooner rather than later.

It seemed all too soon to her that she was standing just outside his lab, hesitating with her hand on the door. Why the hesitation? Was she afraid to be alone with him? Or was it that she just didn't want to be alone with him? It wasn't something Calleigh really wanted to find the real answer to. Pushing all of that from her mind, Calleigh took a deep breath and pushed her way into the lab.

But her hesitation followed her inside, and she stood in the doorway for a moment, merely watching the man before her. Concentration ever present over his features, Eric was unaware that she'd entered the lab. For a moment, Calleigh hung back, merely watching him. His forehead was creased in thought, his lips moved slowly as he muttered under his breath. His steady hands worked over the evidence before him as he tirelessly searched for the fingerprint that would put a quick close to this case. Calleigh couldn't help but smile as she watched him; he was completely absorbed by the case.

Her smile became somewhat wistful as she realized that Eric reminded her of Tim. Outside the lab, Tim would often make light of his work, declaring it just a paycheck; but when he was in the lab, he became one of the most dedicated coworkers Calleigh had ever worked with. Tim would get lost in the task before him, aware only of the evidence before him, himself, and the music that flowed from his headphones into his ears.

Calleigh nibbled at her lip, bowing her head just slightly. It had been three years, but the occasional thought of Tim still tugged at her heart. She didn't think she would ever be able to think of him and not miss him terribly.

Pushing that from her mind, Calleigh let out a breath, putting a cheerful smile on her face as she stepped fully into the lab. "Hey." The smile that touched his lips as he glanced up was genuine, and Calleigh couldn't help feeling a slight surge of guilt. Eric was honestly happy to see her, while Calleigh had been avoiding him as much as she could. "What've you got?" she asked, tugging on the sleeves of her lab coat, forcing herself to ignore any feelings that weren't strictly professional.

Eric cleared his throat, gesturing to the scope on the table. "I found a partial on a piece of stray broken glass near where the body was. It's not much, but it's something. Take a look." He moved out of the way, granting Calleigh access. He closed his eyes as she passed; despite everything, the scent of her perfume still weakened his knees. His heart fluttered as she tossed her hair over her shoulder before leaning down for a better look.

While her eyes were occupied, Eric couldn't help letting his gaze wander over her. The stiffness in her posture didn't go unnoticed by him, and he couldn't help but feel badly, figuring that he was the cause of it. He hated that Calleigh felt so uncomfortable around him; it tore his heart into pieces. It had seemed they were finally getting back to the easy relationship they'd had before, but then Eric had made one mistake – maybe a mistake for her; but for Eric it had felt natural, and if not for Calleigh's phone ringing, he would've kissed her – and they were back to square one.

His eyes lingered on the silkiness of her hair, his fingers itching to reach out and thread themselves through it. Tucked behind her ears, it did nothing to obstruct Eric's view of her face; he could see so perfectly how she pursed her lips thoughtfully, clearly wondering the same thing about that partial that he'd been wondering moments before.

All he was doing was standing there, enjoying the rare opportunity to gaze unabashedly upon her beauty, wishing he could do more than just appreciate it from afar.

And then it hit him. Straight out of nowhere, at the most inopportune time. It began with a slight tingling, just behind his ear. At first, it was merely a nuisance, something Eric figured would pass if he ignored it.

But instead of fading away, that slight tingle exploded into a blinding, raging headache. It had only happened a couple of other times like this; the first one occurring a week after getting out of the hospital. It had happened first thing in the morning, and Eric would've sworn he was dying; it was that intense. He'd been a little more than dismayed when his doctor told him later that day that the occasional intense headache was to be expected. The only good news was that over time, they should occur less and less. And they had; but when they did happen, the pain was just as debilitating.

Slowly, Eric turned away from Calleigh, determined not to let her see. The last thing he needed was her worrying whether or not he could do his job, again. Letting out a deep breath, he leaned over the opposite counter, gripping it so tightly that his knuckles began turning white. Inwardly he groaned. Not now…

Calleigh's attention remained solely on the partial before her. It was barely even enough to consider a partial, and getting a hit from AFIS was going be almost impossible. "There's not much there at all," she murmured.

"Yeah, I know," Eric mumbled. It had been the only print he could find, though; all the others had merely been smudges. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, setting his elbows on the countertop so he could rest his head in his hands.

"I don't know if this is even going to get any hits on AFIS," Calleigh continued. Straightening up, she glanced over her shoulder. "Are you sure you couldn't – Eric?" Her voice carried a tinge of worry, and Eric knew that she'd realized he was in pain.

He didn't reply. Part of him wondered if maybe she just thought he was upset with himself for not finding a workable print. If he could pass it off as that, then he'd be okay. But something told him that there was no way Calleigh would believe that. He also knew that she wouldn't take his silent hint and leave him alone to work through the pain. He knew she wouldn't leave him, not after seeing him like this, unless she knew he was okay. But for now he couldn't think about that. He couldn't think about anything. Keeping his eyes tightly closed, he concentrated on breathing. In and out…in and out. By now the pain was as bad as it usually got, and all Eric could do now was wait for it to pass.

"Eric?" Calleigh called again, the concern in her voice now unmistakable. He felt her hand along his back and he sighed, the soothing circular motions already drawing his attention away from the pain in his head. "Eric…"

"I'm fine," Eric muttered, not moving. He lifted his head, turning his gaze to her. He could only hope his eyes weren't watering too noticeably from the pain.

Calleigh tilted her head, looking directly into his pained expression. "Are you lying to me?"

"Like it's something you've never done to me?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he cringed. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

Calleigh bit her lip, though her hand didn't slow its motion along his back. As much as his words stung, they were, in all honesty, fair. But this was bigger than that; something was wrong with Eric, and that scared her to death. "Come on, you can tell me," she coaxed softly, forcing herself to ignore his previous accusation. "What is it, Eric?" Her heart raced as he watched his hands clutch at the back of his head.

"It's nothing. It'll pass."

Calleigh shook her head, and Eric knew immediately that she wasn't going to believe him. "Listen, Eric. I want you to go lay down, okay?" The last thing he needed was be working if, as she suspected, his head was hurting so badly. The bright lights of the lab and the amount of concentration he was forced to have couldn't be helping him. Calleigh knew; she'd gotten the occasional migraine in her life, and the only thing that helped those was lying down in a dark, cool room. And those migraines didn't compare with the pain it seemed that Eric was feeling.

"Cal -"

"I'm serious," she interrupted, her voice stern, but her eyes revealing nothing but the deepest concern. "I want you to go lay down in the break room. I'll run the print through AFIS and see if it's even enough for a positive match." Eric tried to protest, but the effort it took even to think of what he could say caused the pain to shoot through his head with a vengeance. Instead he groaned, still reluctant to give in to her request. Calleigh sighed, wishing he'd pick some other time to be stubborn. She realized that, were the situation reversed, that she would probably be just as stubborn, if not more so. But this was different. Calleigh couldn't deny that she was honestly afraid. She'd kept a fairly close eye on Eric after he'd first gotten shot, and she'd never seen him like this. "Eric, if you never listen to anything else I say, just listen to me now and go lay down. Please."

Eric gave an exasperated sigh. Her concern was sweet, really. It was just…he didn't want to be fussed over. How was he ever going to prove he was getting better if people were constantly at his back? "Calleigh, I'm fine. It's just a headache."

"Eric, you have a bullet in your brain," Calleigh pointed out softly. Eric scoffed; as if he didn't already know that. "A headache is never going to be just a headache." Again Eric was silent, and Calleigh sighed. He wasn't budging. Calleigh would have to play her last card. "If you don't do this for me, I swear I will go get Alexx."

Eric stared at her for a long moment. Calleigh he could argue with, and while he probably wouldn't win anyway, he had a better chance of winning an argument with Calleigh than with Alexx. He let out a defeated breath and straightened up, pulling off his gloves. "Fine. You win. I'll go lay down." He forced a grin, trying to make the situation seem less serious. "But you'd better find me a match for that print."

Calleigh smiled. "You got it," she replied softly, watching worriedly as he turned to leave the lab. Her eyes followed him down the hall until he was completely out of her sight.

Her mind immediately filled with questions. How long had his head been bothering him? Was that normal? Why had he never said anything? Why hadn't she ever noticed? Was he deliberately trying to hide it from everybody? From her?

They were questions that plagued her mind from the moment he left the lab, through the time it took to scan the print into the system and start it running through AFIS. And then the waiting game had begun; there was no way Calleigh would be able to sit there and wait for AFIS to find a match, not while she was this worried about Eric.

Finding someone else to watch for AFIS to find a match, Calleigh pulled off her lab coat and her gloves and immediately headed toward the break room. She made it there in almost record time, and as she quietly stepped inside the dark room, a small smile touched her lips. She could just make out the form of his body stretched out upon the couch, an arm over his eyes. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, and Calleigh only whispered his name, just in case he'd dozed off. "Eric?"

Eric stirred, lifting his arm from his face as his eyes came open. "Cal…"

Calleigh smiled softly, making her way over to the couch. "I didn't want to wake you if you were asleep," she said, kneeling beside the couch. "How's your head?"

"It's getting better," he replied quietly, meeting her warm gaze completely. "Still got a ways to go, though."

Calleigh pursed her lips. "Did you take something for it?"

"It's fine, Cal, I swear," Eric said with a smile, trying to convince her. "It comes and goes. It's nothing. And it doesn't happen nearly as often as the doctor warned me it could." He paused, taking the opportunity to prop himself up slightly on his elbows. "It hasn't bothered me this badly in months, actually. I'll be fine once it passes completely."

"Are you sure?" Calleigh asked, still not sure she was convinced.

Eric chuckled. "Trust me. I've felt worse." He winked, once more calling on a bit of sarcastic, dry humor. "Bit of advice? Don't ever get shot in the head."

Calleigh shook her head, biting at her lip. "Come on, Eric, please don't joke about that," she said quietly, her eyes to the ground, as though trying to hide the pain and fear his statement had reawakened in her. "You almost died."

With a sigh, Eric reached out, gently tilting her chin upward again with his thumb. "I didn't, though. I'm fine. I promise." He held her eyes until she nodded. Her concern didn't fade, though.

"How long has it been bothering you?" she asked quietly.

"On and off. Like you said; there's a bullet in my head. The doctor said I'd get headaches occasionally. I just have to…deal with them. They're not usually this bad, thankfully." Eric smiled once more, enjoying the fact that it came more easily now that his headache was indeed beginning to fade. "So, what about my print? Did you find anything in AFIS?"

Calleigh gave a half-shrug. "It's running through the system right now. I would've waited for it, but I, uh, kind of wanted to check on you…" her voice trailed off, feeling a bit embarrassed that she'd actually told him that. "I was worried."

"Well, I'm sorry I worried you," Eric murmured, instinctively lacing his fingers with hers. "And I want to thank you, too."

Calleigh swallowed, staring at their entwined fingers. Her heartbeat had accelerated; her flight instinct was kicking in, telling her to flee as fast as she could. But she couldn't make her hand pull away from his; she seemed frozen to the spot. "For what?" she whispered, aware of the tiny shake in her voice.

Eric smiled. "For caring. I know I gave you a hard time back there…"

Biting her lip anxiously, Calleigh gave a short nod. "Always," she murmured. It was then that she made her final, fatal mistake. She allowed her eyes to be drawn back to his, and from there they couldn't stray. The intensity in his brown eyes was overwhelming; it literally took Calleigh's breath away. "Eric…" she breathed, her eyes betraying her and falling closed as Eric's free hand came up, brushing her cheek. His touch sent a chill through her body, but it was confusing. Was it a chill of delight? Or was she feeling chilled because this was forbidden? Because she wasn't supposed to be feeling anything for him?

Just as the moment became too much for her, Calleigh's eyes fluttered open once more to meet his unwavering, dark gaze. She felt the jolt within her – this wasn't right; the only movement she should be making was to get out of that room as fast as she could. She felt the pounding inside her chest; heard the frantic yelling within her. But her body ignored that something within her, even though what that something kept screaming was a vehement no. Instead of pushing away from him, Calleigh only felt herself draw closer to him.

Flashes of the dream she'd had flickered before her eyes; she could see Eric, mere inches away from her, she could see his eyes close as her own closed as well. She saw her lips connect with his; she saw his body pressing her into the wall.

And she could see Jake. Just as clearly as she'd seen him in her dream; the hurt in his eyes just as apparent. She could see him, clear as day, and sharply it stabbed at her heart.

But her body was on a completely different wavelength. Calleigh couldn't stop the way she leaned into him; she couldn't stop the way her hand tightened its hold on his. She just couldn't stop that overwhelming pull. One moment, she was gazing into his dark eyes, her emotions completely and utterly confused, lost.

And the next moment, her body pushed her further into the realm of the forbidden as she leaned in even closer, her lips pressing firmly against his.