Calleigh cleaned her work station and organized her papers neatly into folders. She'd been pouring hours into this case since the incident in the lobby with one Byron Middlebrook. She remembered Middlebrook looming over her, and as much as she wanted to let go on the bastard herself, she wished Horatio had been around. She knew he would have done just what Eric did, but it always made her smile to see Horatio being so protective. She regretted having snapped at Eric for coming to her defense. However, it had only been about a week since Tim left them, so suddenly, and no one had yet gotten over it. Most of them were still very much on edge. Some more than others. Those who hadn't known him as well did their best to keep quiet on the subject.

She locked the door to the lab and returned the key to her pocket, as the distinct sound of distant, repeated gun fire caught her ear. She knew where it was coming from, she just didn't know who.

Down the far end of the firing range, Horatio's bullets were perforating the targets of a paper man. When the magazine was empty, he retrieved the target from its hanger and shook his head while examining the holes. Quickly he reloaded and replaced the target, only to begin firing again, this time with a ferocious anger, more than any concentration. Soon, two empty clicks from the gun forced him to relinquish. Placing the smoldering weapon down, he exhaled deeply still looking at the brutalized target.

"Strange time to be brushing up on your aim isn't it?" Calleigh spoke louder than usual, for him to hear her through the ear protection he wore, which he politely removed.

"I need the practice." Calleigh almost laughed at his statement.

"Ya, right," she teased, "If anyone knows how good you're aim is Horatio, I do."

"Good isn't cutting it." He said, loading a new magazine.

"Horatio," she gently reached out to his arm, guiding his hand to put the gun down again, "Tell me that's not why you're down here." She waited a moment, but when he didn't answer she looked him in the eye. "Wasting rounds on paper targets won't bring him back."

"I know." His eyes returned to his weapon. "I know. It's just...I'm slipping, Calleigh."

"What are you talking about?"

"First...Tim." The words were forced out, "and then what happened today. Ray Jr., Stevie, Yelina...Stetler, I could have gotten them killed." Calleigh had nearly forgotten the drive by. One of Middlebrook's lackeys, looking to get rid of all the witnesses opened fire on Yelina's home, where the young boy, and last witness, Stevie, was staying. Not to mention the last of Horatio's family.

"You can't be blamed for that, Horatio. Neither of those things! None of us knew there was an information leak to Middlebrook, but if you're that adamant about blaming your self for this, blame the fact that you haven't slept since... since Tim..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the statement, but he knew what she was saying.

"I've slept." He lied.

"I don't mean closing you're eyes in the break room. I can tell you haven't. Not well, at least" He examined her for a second, trying to decide if she was bluffing. "Your--" suddenly she became slightly embarrassed, and feared her face had turned pink, "You look like you forgot to shave. You only ever forget when you're not sleeping." Brushing his fingers over his chin he felt the scuff of short facial hair from having missed a shave or two. It was strange how just a little stubble could so alter his appearance, making him look much more rough and haggard. Not that it didn't look good, Calleigh thought. "You're eyes too..." she continued, "the blue seems to...fade." He suddenly felt foolish, hearing her talk about him like this. It was true, he often thought of the little things about Calleigh, but hearing aloud similar descriptions about himself, was almost embarrassing. He began to speak before she interrupted. "Don't argue this with me. I won't let you win." She teased; unfortunately she was unable to elicit a smile from him. He crossed his arms, as though he was holding himself together, and leaned against the wall.

"Tim—", he cleared his throat, "Tim is gone. And all I can do is say I'm sorry." His sight remained fixed on the floor as he spoke, and his vivid hair fell, out of place, over his forehead.

"You shouldn't be sorry. You don't owe anyone that. You're not to blame for what happened." He looked at her blankly a moment, as though this argument had become worn.

"He was with me, Calleigh. I -- I'm your L.T. I'm supposed to—I'm supposed to look out for you guys. I'm supposed to be there for you... for Tim."

"Horatio..."

"I lied to him, you know?" He looked away, and spoke as though he was confessing sin, "He was laying there, and I lied to him."

"What?" Tilting her head she tried to make him look at her again. Instead, his eyes slipped shut as he fought the burning of tears.

"I told him he'd be ok." His appearance was more than depressing. His head hung, as did his arms now, with his hand's loosely in his pockets. With out another thought Calleigh stepped towards him, and wrapped her arms around his slouching frame. He was stooped over to rest his head on her shoulder, when he felt her soft, merciful hand come to rest on the back of his neck. He felt childish being held like this, but he didn't mind about it, as he was just happier this way. With Calleigh. He didn't know how she could be so forgiving of him, but he treasured it.