Chapter Thirty-Seven
Words on Paper
-
The autopsy theater was cold; it always was, but today it made no difference to Calleigh. Usually twenty minutes would be long enough to have her shivering, glad for the flimsy lab coat that provided some covering to her arms, but today, it seemed not even that chill could get to her. Her mind was far too preoccupied; so much so, that not even the particulars of the case seemed to penetrate her.
Her ears caught the words as Alexx spoke, but they were lost somewhere in the transport to her brain. She was hearing them, and she knew she would recall them later when the time called for it, but at the moment, cause of death just simply was not her biggest concern.
Her biggest concern, against her better judgment, remained in the field. He'd insisted he was fine, and thus Calleigh had come back to the lab with some of the evidence and to check in with Alexx.
But now, she couldn't help worrying about him. He was out there alone, after all. What if he had another attack like he'd had earlier? What if he collapsed? Or what if he made a little misstep and fell, hitting his head and dislodging the bullet? They were all possibilities that were far too possible for Calleigh's liking, and she couldn't help but give a small shudder.
Vaguely Calleigh heard her name being called. Mentally she shook her head, shaking herself out of her thoughts, knowing it would be easier if she could feel something other than the numbness that tingled in her fingers. Her body moved automatically; her mind had no idea what she was doing until she'd reached a gloved hand out, taking the recovered bullet from Alexx.
She turned the bullet in her hands, examining all its striations and grooves and coming to a conclusion much faster than anybody else could've ever begun to think on it – after all, she wasn't called the Bullet Girl for nothing. "It's a nine-mil round," she said quietly, pursing her lips in thought.
"You sound disappointed," Alexx observed, watching Calleigh's face. Disappointment, sure. But there was something else there that was playing with the other woman's emotions – Alexx had realized that as soon as Calleigh had stepped into the room. It was easy to tell when something was going on with her; the problem, however, was discerning exactly what. Calleigh wasn't likely to share that, most often, and she wasn't the easiest of the CSIs to read.
Calleigh sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I had a suspect…but the gun I put in his hands was a Glock." Eyes downward, Calleigh slowly placed the bullet in a small evidence bag, her mind drifting back to the comment Eric had made earlier in the morning. "So much for an easy day."
Alexx chuckled. "You should've known better than that anyway," she berated teasingly, to her delight pulling a small smile from Calleigh. "Anyway, that's all I've got for you right now. If I find anything else interesting about this guy, I'll page you."
"Thanks, Alexx," Calleigh replied softly, but she made no move to walk away. A thought – or several, really – had just occurred to her. Not only was Alexx a friend Calleigh could trust with almost everything, she was also a doctor – she'd gone through medical school just like any other practicing physician.
She needed beyond anything else reassurance that Eric was okay.
She also needed simply to talk to somebody, before the fears and worries creeping up within her began to consume her completely.
Alexx quickly noticed Calleigh's unsettledness, and immediately her attention shifted from the body on the table – he wouldn't go anywhere, after all – to the blonde on the other side of the table who looked poised for flight at any moment. "Calleigh?" she asked gently.
Calleigh hesitated, biting at the inside of her cheek. On the one hand, she knew she should probably keep her mouth shut. Eric had kept this to himself for a reason; if he'd wanted the knowledge of his struggles out in the open, he would've put them out there himself.
But on the other hand, Calleigh's concern for his health far outweighed any qualms she had about breaking his privacy. The morbid truth crossed her mind – Eric would have no say in his privacy one way or the other if he were to die – and Calleigh found herself fighting back more than just a mere shudder. The idea of losing him sickened her, and discreetly she took in a few deep breaths, hoping to calm the fear within.
Her eyes downcast, Calleigh fidgeted with the evidence bag in her hands, her eyes studying the contours of the bullet contained within. How could it be that something so small, so insignificant could change everything that a person had ever known? It wasn't something she had ever really questioned, not until it had been Eric.
She gave a deep sigh, lifting her eyes only momentarily to the woman before her. "Can I ask you something?" Calleigh breached the subject slowly, her discomfort with the subject shining brightly through. "As a doctor?"
And there it was. Alexx gave her a long look, studying the blonde's countenance. There was a paleness in her features that was more than Calleigh's naturally fair skin. It was an ill kind of pallor, and combined with the dullness in her usually bright emerald eyes, Alexx quickly ascertained that whatever it was, it was keeping Calleigh awake at night. Awake at night, and distracted during the day.
She had known something was different for awhile now, but Alexx hadn't said anything, knowing that Calleigh was going through a rough patch in her personal life. She'd wisely kept her distance, knowing that pushing the other woman wasn't going to help either one of them. If Calleigh needed it, she would reach out to her herself.
And it seemed to be exactly what she was doing now. "Of course you can, baby," Alexx replied softly, an inviting smile on her lips. It was a smile that grew thoughtful though as Calleigh continued to hesitate, seemingly searching for the words to voice a difficult subject. Unable to stop herself, Alexx ran through what she knew in her mind, attempting to put two and two together, assuming she and Calleigh were thinking along the same wavelength.
Calleigh just hadn't seemed herself in quite some time. There was the pallor and the exhaustion, and as Alexx studied the other woman's small frame, it seemed as though Calleigh had lost weight. Occasional nausea, perhaps? Stomach flu? It had been going around the lab, but it wasn't exactly the diagnosis that danced around Alexx's brain.
Given her careful observations, as well as the occasional concerned inquiry from Eric proving that she wasn't the only one worried about their colleague, Alexx's first instinct was that Calleigh might be pregnant. After all, Alexx did see a lot in the other woman that had plagued herself not once but twice before.
But as Calleigh began to speak, Alexx found herself surprised and unusually wrong. "It's about…Eric," Calleigh began slowly, nibbling anxiously at her lip.
Alexx rested her hands on the table, tilting her head slightly as she regarded the blonde. "Eric?"
Calleigh nodded. "I've just – I mean, I don't –" Pausing, she shook her head, trying to find the words to express all the anxiety she held within. Her heart still skipped a beat as she thought back to the morning; as she once again saw Eric kneeling before her, clutching his head in agony.
She hadn't seen or spoken to him since she'd left him alone that morning, though she knew that if something had happened, she would know. Still, it didn't keep her from worrying. She gave a heavy shrug, glancing up to Alexx with worry plain in her eyes. "This morning, we were at a scene together, and he – he had this attack of pain…" She trailed off, using her energy instead to fight back a shudder. The fact remained that Eric had scared her, more than she would ever be willing to admit.
Alexx did not look surprised. Even with Calleigh's vague description, Alexx knew exactly what the other woman meant, having observed it once herself. "The fragment in his brain doesn't belong there, and his body knows that. It's something that's going to take time for his body to adjust to, Calleigh." She gave a deep sigh, mentally cataloguing just how affected Calleigh seemed to be. "It's somewhat like a splinter, I would assume. You can get used to it being there, and for awhile you can forget about it. But the moment you make a sudden move or attempt to dislodge it, it's going to hurt again."
What Alexx said made sense, but that didn't mean Calleigh felt any better about it. If anything, it only made her feel worse. "Does that mean that, what he went through this morning, he's going to have to deal with that for the rest of his life?"
It was a horrible sentence, one Calleigh would not wish upon anyone. Eric had been all but debilitated with pain for a few minutes. And though it was merely a few minutes' time, Calleigh was almost certain that for Eric, it felt more like an eternity.
Alexx thought for a moment, pensively nibbling at her lip. "It is…possible," she replied slowly, watching a myriad of emotion flit through Calleigh's eyes. "However, it is just as possible that the attacks will, in time, completely fade away."
Calleigh nodded slowly. "He did say they were getting less frequent," she commented quietly, her eyes downcast. "It's just…when I walked in the kitchen and saw him doubled over like that…"
Alexx nodded. "It's frightening, isn't it?" She gave Calleigh a reassuring smile. "It's part of his recovery process. Pain, memory problems, even the occasional hallucination – they're all to be expected. The important thing is that he is seeing his doctor regularly. His doctor knows about every bit of this."
"I know," Calleigh sighed, fidgeting with her fingers. "I guess it's just…the shooting. It was over a year ago."
"It was, Calleigh," Alexx said gently. "And look at all the progress he's made since then. Think back for a moment, when he first came back to work. Look at the difference."
Again, Alexx had a point. When Eric had first come back to work, even Calleigh had been guilty of questioning whether or not he was ready. Small mistakes had been routine for him, and each one he made crushed his fragile resolve. Rookie mistakes, he had called them. On top of that, his motor skills had been slow at times; his eyesight sometimes played tricks with his mind.
It was a vast difference to the Eric who worked beside her in the field now, and Calleigh couldn't deny it. But still it bothered her, enough to show through in her troubled green eyes.
Alexx gave a soft smile, reading Calleigh's concern effortlessly. "It's a process, baby," she said slowly, answering the unasked question. Her voice was as comforting as possible, and Calleigh was unable not to feel its effects. "A slow process. The bottom line right now is that he is better than he was a year ago. And in a year's time, he'll probably be better than he is today."
It was a moment before Calleigh spoke, seemingly steadying herself. "Will he ever…you know?" Calleigh swallowed the lump in her throat, embarrassed for the hoarseness in her voice. "Be where he was…before?"
"That's not something I can answer, honey."
Calleigh nodded, letting out a deep breath. "I'm still…worried about him…"
Alexx smiled. "And what kind of friend would you be if you weren't?" Calleigh gave a halfhearted shrug, and Alexx sighed, pulling off her gloves with an audible snap. "You're worried because you care," she said, her steps echoing as she walked around the table to where Calleigh stood. "You don't want to see him hurting, or struggling with his recovery, or anything like that. You just want him better, which is what we all want."
She lay a comforting hand on Calleigh's arm, and Calleigh sighed deeply, giving a soft shake of her head. "You're right," she said quietly, though she still didn't meet the other woman's eyes. "I know he's hurting though, and it kills me to see him like that."
Physically and emotionally, her mind added, once more issuing the guilt from which Calleigh just could not escape.
Alexx nodded, squeezing Calleigh's shoulder. "He scared me to death the one time I saw him like that," she revealed, and Calleigh couldn't help but lift her eyes toward the other woman. "It was just a couple weeks after he came back to work. And right here, in the morgue…"
She didn't need to continue, for Calleigh knew exactly where the story would lead. "He shouldn't have to go through all that," she whispered after a moment, her voice sounding more confident than she felt.
"I know, honey," Alexx replied, nodding in agreement. "But he does, and there's not much we can do about it. Except be there for him, of course."
It wasn't what Calleigh wanted to hear, but she couldn't deny that Alexx was right. The problem, though, was that Alexx's answer was the problem. She'd tried to be there for him, hadn't she? And he'd pushed her away, claiming that all was well. Thinking back, it was a cycle that had been occurring for quite some time – after the first time he'd admitted having feelings for her.
Even as friends, he'd begun pulling away from her, and Calleigh hated it. She missed the strong foundation they'd once had, before everything had changed. Now, it just seemed that with every day that passed, Eric was slipping farther and farther away from her.
Or was she the one pushing him away? It was all so confusing, this bottomless pit she'd dug herself into. Calleigh was beginning to think – actually, she'd been thinking it for a long time now – that she would never find her way out of this.
"Something else is unsettling you," Alexx perceived in that way that only Alexx could.
And she was right, but it wasn't something that Calleigh could put into voiced words. Even if she could, sharing it seemed out of the question. "It's just…a lot of different things," Calleigh conceded, shrugging her shoulders.
Alexx lifted a brow. "Jake?"
"Among other things, yes," Calleigh sighed. That, however, wasn't something she wanted to go into with anybody. Forcing a smile, she gestured toward the door with the hand that held the evidence bag. "I'm going to take this to my lab and see if I can get anything else from it," she said, taking a step back. "Thanks for…well. You know."
"You're welcome, honey." Alexx gave a quiet chuckle as she went back to her work, still amused at how far off she had been. "And here I thought there was something else bothering you," she added, shaking her head with another chuckle.
Calleigh tilted her head, and to her surprise a grin of her own formed upon her lips. "Like what?"
"It's nothing, really," Alexx said with a grin. "To be honest, when you said you wanted to ask me something as a doctor, I actually thought you were coming to me because you thought you might be pregnant."
For the first time in what felt far too long, Calleigh gave a full, genuine laugh. "Pregnant?"
Alexx smirked. "Ridiculous?"
"Only extremely." Calleigh grinned. "I needed the laugh, though."
"Well, at least you got something out of my rare mistake," Alexx teased.
Calleigh chuckled, shaking her head as once more she began her trek out. "Thanks again, Alexx. I'll see you later."
..
Not a moment too soon, Eric found himself at his locker, glad for the end of another shift. The pain in his head had subsided almost completely, and Eric had even been able to muster a few genuine smiles throughout the day. Despite that, he still knew that he wouldn't be one hundred percent again – or as close as he'd been recently – until he made it home and into bed for several hours.
With a yawn, Eric reached for his keys in the back of his locker, but as soon as his hand cleared the threshold, the keys slipped from his grasp, falling loudly to the ground below.
"Damn it," Eric cursed quietly, taking a moment to flex his stiffened fingers. It was yet another of the unwelcome side effects of being shot – his motor skills still suffered from time to time. Luckily, though, that 'time to time' only occurred rarely.
He dreaded bending over to retrieve his keys, knowing the movement would cause a sudden rush of blood to his head. It would throb through his veins, coupling with the residual pain in his head. But then again, it was a gamble – risk a little more pain, or retrieve his keys so he could go home. It wasn't a difficult decision to make.
With a deep breath, Eric slowly bent down, his eyes closed as he made his slow descent.
But as he opened his eyes again, it wasn't his keys that caught Eric's gaze.
Just mere inches away from where his keys lay was a small, dusty envelope, hidden beneath the row of lockers. Without even thinking, Eric reached out for them both, gathering them tightly in his fingers as he rose once more to his feet. His keys were nearly forgotten as he blew the dust off the envelope, taking in the eight letters on the front of it, eight letters that made up the most euphonic name of all in Eric's ears.
He recognized immediately the untidy scrawl on the front of it, having intercepted one of his notes once before. Turning the envelope in his hands, Eric felt its weight – this was more than just a simple note. It felt even thicker than the letters he received from family back in Cuba during the holidays. And as he turned it once more, Eric noticed in the low light something that set his curiosity once more aflame.
The envelope itself was not sealed. The flap hung loosely open, revealing all too obviously the contents within.
He knew he shouldn't.
It went against everything his mother had ever taught him; it went against every lesson in etiquette that he'd ever received from his abuela. And he knew beyond everything else that, were the contents within as serious as they seemed, Calleigh would never forgive him.
He should ignore the temptation and instead slip the letter in her locker. Or, maybe even deliver it to her personally, since he hadn't seen her at all since the debacle at the crime scene that morning. It would serve the dual purpose of giving her the letter, and of letting her know that he was in fact okay.
But that was logic. And logic had since given way to a burning curiosity within him. Before Eric fully even realized it, he was teasing the paper out of the envelope, his heart pounding as he unfolded the pages of the letter. He knew this was wrong, knew it with everything in him. But even all that knowledge seemingly wasn't enough to stop him. He took one last secretive glance around, making sure he was fully alone.
And then, he dove in.
Once upon a time, you told me that the only thing I was scared of was failure. I'm not entirely sure if that's what I'm afraid of most right now – all I know is that this is quite possibly the most cowardly thing I have ever done. But at this point, I'm out of options. You won't hear me out, and I don't blame you. I wouldn't give me the chance either.
Jake Berkeley, admitting that an action of his was cowardly? If anything, that merely stoked the ever growing fire of Eric's curiosity. To be honest, Eric didn't really know Jake all that well at all, nor did he have the desire to know him, but from what he did know, there was nothing in the other man's nature that Jake himself would admit was cowardly.
It struck him then, just how alike both Jake and Calleigh were. They were both stubborn, steadfast in their ways, unwilling to back down when they thought they were right. So unwilling to admit defeat, weakness, fear. And also, if the written words were any indication, failure.
So alike.
And Eric was the odd man out. The thought was almost enough to have him shoving the letter back into the envelope with disgust.
Almost.
You deserve to be told all this in person, not in a letter. I should have told you in the very beginning, but I was convinced that it wouldn't come to this. I thought I could take care of it; I thought I could do it without losing you again. But yet again, I failed. So many times I failed you, and you can't even begin to know the regret I hold over that.
I'm sorry. I know I can say that over and over, and it won't mean a thing because you've heard it from me so many times before. I just wish there was something I could do this time, something I could say so you could know how much I truly mean it. I'm sorry for everything.
The last thing I ever, ever wanted to do was hurt you.
"But you did," Eric murmured, his bitter words echoing impossibly loudly in the empty room. Bitter, yes, but there was something that the words lacked. Conviction, perhaps? The words on the page were full of such heartache, heartache that not even Eric could deny.
My actions, all my lies – they're nothing less than inexcusable. But if I had the chance to go back, I'd probably do things the same way, only for one reason. Everything I ever did, I did it for you. I don't expect you to believe or even fully understand that – how could everything I did be for you if all I ever did was hurt you?
You told me that some things would never change; that I would never choose to step out for you. If that were my only choice; if it was the only one I ever had to make, I would've done it in a heartbeat for you. Every minute that I was away from you was nothing less than sheer torment. As I write this, you have no idea how badly I'm missing you. Your smile, your laugh, your sweet perfume – everything.
Over ten years ago, the first day that I locked eyes with you, the first day that you spoke my name – that very first day at the academy was the day I fell in love with you.
And that was the confession that nearly brought Eric to his knees. He'd suspected it once, twice at the most – the fact that Jake had genuine feelings for Calleigh, that she wasn't just one in a long list of conquests for him.
He'd never wanted to apply the word love before though – how could anybody ever feel the same about Calleigh as Eric did? Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Eric shook his head, attempting to convince himself that they were just words on paper. Actionless words on paper. But even as he told himself that, Eric couldn't deny that with every line, Jake was looking more and more like a worthy opponent, maybe even…
No. Eric wouldn't go there, not yet. But it was hard not to, even as he skimmed – couldn't bear to read every word – the rest of the first page, the CSI in him taking in every little misplaced penstroke, indicative of a trembling hand. Eric could ignore it all he wanted, but it was plain that Jake's words came from the heart.
You are beautiful, stunning, and just downright amazing, and I know I never did anything to deserve you.
You deserve so much better than me.
All I'm asking now is for the chance to tell you everything, even if I have to do it like this. If I never come back to you –
The thought stretched to the end of the page, but before Eric could turn it, he was startled by the loud thud of the door. His heart stopped momentarily – what if it was Calleigh? She would know immediately that something was up; Eric couldn't hide anything from her that well.
Hastily, he shoved the letter and the envelope in his jacket, taking advantage of the inside pocket just as a voice called out to him. But luckily, it was not Calleigh who greeted him, but Wolfe instead. "Hey, Delko."
Relieved, Eric returned the greeting, for a moment amusing himself at the irony. Never before had he thought he'd rather run into Wolfe instead of Calleigh, but this had turned out to be the one time, apparently. "You headed out?"
Wolfe nodded. "Finally. It's been a long day," he said, opening his locker.
"That it has," Eric agreed, giving a low chuckle. "Can't wait to get out of here."
"Yeah, me either." Rummaging through his locker, Wolfe glanced to Eric as he spoke again. "Hey, you wanna grab something to eat or something? I haven't eaten all day."
To his surprise, Eric found his stomach growling at the mere mention of food. Throughout most of the day, the prospect of nausea had kept his hunger at bay, but now that it had been several hours since he had eaten, his hunger was beginning to make itself known.
Discreetly he patted at the envelope in his pocket, knowing he could easily wait a long time before looking through it again. "You know, that actually sounds good," he replied, closing his own locker.
"Yeah?" Wolfe looked to him, smiling. "I know this little place, got the best burgers I've ever had…"
Eric smirked. "Then why are we still here?"
..
A burger, an order of fries, and some surprisingly not-unwelcome companionship later, Eric pushed his way through his front door, tossing his keys on the table as he made his way inside. Turning on the light, he reached into his pocket for the letter he'd retrieved from the locker room floor.
But this time, as he turned it in his hands, he couldn't help but feel an almost crushing sense of guilt, not only for reading part of it, but also for bringing it home when he should've left it for Calleigh to find. The letter felt somehow different in his hands now; heavier, less appealing. Just the thought of opening it again put a sour taste in Eric's mouth.
His conscience had caught up to him, it seemed.
Even though his privacy would now be perfectly uninterrupted, Eric could not bring himself to reopen the letter in his hands.