Apalachicola

by Miranda Fox

[EC] A man is found dead in northern Florida. Now our CSIs must go there and investigate. Will they be able to solve the case before they lose their minds? WIP.

4. Chapter Four

Title: Apalachicola
Author: Miranda
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: E/C
Spoilers: None
Author's notes: So sorry about that nasty cliffhanger, yuck! But thanks for all the reviews! 25, wow. That's amazing. Wish I could thank you guys individually. Oh, and if I can't update before the 25th, Merry Christmas to everyone!

A p a l a c h i c o l a
by Miranda
Chapter Four

A thousand thoughts rushed through Calleigh's mind as she made her way deeper into the woods. The boom echoed in her head and she didn't have to hear it twice to know it had been a gunshot. Rationality told her there was a pretty good chance that the gun fired had been Eric's; that maybe he ran into a deer or a wild animal but she couldn't shake away the fear that her rationality was wrong this time. Because she knew guns and though she wasn't a hundred percent sure, that hadn't sounded like Eric's gun. It kept playing itself in her mind over and over again, until it was all she could hear, until she couldn't even tell which way she was going or how long she had been running.

And then a tiny voice in her head told her to slow down. If that wasn't Eric's gun, if there was someone else there, she would have to proceed with precaution. Try and remember all those things you learn in the academy and every day on the job. Call for backup. Wait for backup. Check the scene. Make sure it's safe, and then proceed. Call for backup? Well, hopefully Brian was on the phone with the 911 operator right now. Hopefully he or she would have the common sense to call the sheriff or a state patrol – just someone. Moot point anyway, because in the distance she could see the yellow tape that surrounded the tree. Backup would have to be step two this time. She was going in.

Half of her still tried to do things the way she was supposed to. Calleigh stopped and took cover behind a tree for a second, just to try and at least assess the situation before she got herself into trouble. Her fingers were squeezing her gun so hard she was scared it would go off. Her hands were sweaty and her breathing labored. She rested her back against the trunk, suddenly too anxious or too scared of what she would find, and a thousand "what ifs" started tormenting her immediately. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was a crime scene, another crime scene; therefore it needs to be treated objectively. Crime scene investigation is no place for emotions, she knew that well. So she composed herself quickly, or at least tried to, and threw a brief look over her shoulder, trying to see what was happening or pick up any suspicious sounds coming from the area. But she couldn't see anyone, couldn't hear anything.

Gun drawn in front of her, Calleigh began to walk over, trying to get a better look. Her heart began to beat faster and faster as she neared the tree, until finally, it caught in her throat and she couldn't feel it beating anymore. The silence was so deafening she felt the pressure in her ears but she paid no attention to that. Her eyes immediately zoomed in on Eric, who lay on the ground, seemingly lifeless.

Her feet rushed her there before she had the chance to stop them and let them know she might be in danger, too. She knelt next to him, pressed her fingers to his neck and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt his pulse beating.

"Eric?" she called out but Eric didn't respond. He was laying face down, his left arm tucked under him. Calleigh stripped her gloves off and tossed them away, and with a strength she didn't know she had, she turned him over, failing to consider the possibility of a spinal injury, that she might be doing more harm than good; all kinds of important thoughts were ignored. She winced at a nasty laceration on his forehead, at the blood that gushed out of it and soaked his skin and the ground. A smaller cut adorned his left cheekbone, surrounded by a nasty bruise. His face, normally so full of life, was completely devoid of any kind of emotion and that scared her more than any physical injuries he might have sustained.

"Eric," she called him again, louder, but again, received no response. Her hands instinctively began to roam through his body, looking for a gunshot wound, but couldn't find one, and that made her feel much better. She came up to his face again, framed it in her hands and slapped his skin a couple of times, trying to bring him back, but he didn't move a muscle.

"Brian!" Calleigh shouted, wondering if he could hear her from where she was. Called him again and her attention returned to Eric. She forced his eyelids open but suddenly realized she had no idea what she was looking for. All those times she had seen Alexx do this, and hadn't learned a thing. She was sure there was some kind of procedure for these situations, but her mind was so chaotic she couldn't remember what it was.

"Oh my God," Brian suddenly said next to her, phone to his ear. "Is he okay?"

Calleigh had neither the information nor the ability to respond to him, just wondered how he had gotten there so quickly when it had taken her so long.

"He's bleeding from the head. I don't think he's awake."

She looked over her shoulder, a little confused until she realized Brian was still on the phone with the 911 operator, his eyes glued to the gushing blood on Eric's head. The operator seemed to be asking him questions, giving him instructions and suddenly he knelt next to Eric and reached over, but Calleigh pushed his hand away territorially. She reached inside Eric's pocket for the car keys, handed them to Brian, and the words rushed out of her almost unintelligibly. "There's a first aid kit in the trunk of the car, I need you to get it for me. Go!"

Brian took off immediately and she was glad for that, not sure she would be able to handle incompetence at the moment, not even her own. She looked at Eric again and suddenly felt overwhelmingly desperate, useless, angry at herself for not know what to do. How many first aid courses had she taken in her lifetime? Suddenly she couldn't remember anything, not a damn thing, and the anger she felt at that immediately boiled the tears in her eyes until they evaporated, but left traces of rage behind.

"Eric," she whispered, shaking and slapping his face but getting no reaction from him. One look at her own fingers let her know they were trembling and full of blood, his blood, and her panic grew tenfold. Why wasn't he waking up? Why couldn't she get him to wake up? Blood kept flowing from his wound and she couldn't seem to make it stop, no matter how hard she pressed on it. She felt like he was slipping through her fingers and she was powerless to stop it.

"Come on, Eric, don't do this to me, please," her voice trembled and despite the fact that she was begging him to wake up, he wouldn't. She briefly wondered if he was hearing her but ignoring her, if he was mad at her for something she had done or had failed to do, if this was somebody's idea of a sick joke. If there was somebody up there going, "You had your chance; you blew it. Pay your dues." It made her angry just thinking about it, anger at herself, mostly, because suddenly that meant she could've prevented this.

Brian appeared next to her a few seconds later, the contents of the first aid kit spilling on the ground as he dropped it. Calleigh picked up a bandage and pressed it to Eric's wound, watching as it turned from white to bright red. Brian continued to talk on the phone with the 911 operator, telling her what was happening and giving Calleigh the instructions the operator gave him but Calleigh ignored him, muttering something under her breath even she couldn't understand.

"I think he fell off the tree."

That she heard. Calleigh looked up to see Brian holding a large branch and her eyes wandered over to the tree, trying to figure out where it might have come from, trying to figure out how high up but it was nearly impossible. It made sense that he had fallen, because had he been up there when the shot went off, no bullet would cause a horizontal laceration without breaking into the skull. It was just one of the thousands of theories that flashed through her mind. Neither of them really stayed around long enough for her to stop and analyze them.

When the bandage was completely red, Calleigh picked up another one and pressed it to Eric's forehead again, a little harder than the last time, and that, finally, got some kind of reaction. He moaned, so low she briefly wondered if it had happened at all. But then his eyebrows slightly furrowed and stayed that way, and Calleigh knew she hadn't been hearing things.

"Eric?" she called him, her heart completely overjoyed to hear something from him, even if it was incoherence. She called him again and slapped the side of his face lightly. His eyelids fluttered a little.

"Eric?"

No verbal response. Her hand caressed the side of his face. "Can you hear me?" His head turned just barely and his eyelids kept trembling but he couldn't seem to be able to open them.

"It's okay," Calleigh said soothingly, pressing her forehead to his, trying to comfort him as best she could. "Don't move. The paramedics are on their way."

And as if on cue, Calleigh heard a siren close by. Less than a minute later, two men dressed in navy blue and carrying a backboard appeared next to her. When Brian saw them, he notified the operator and hung up the phone.

"Ma'am," one of the paramedics said as he knelt down.

"Detective Duquesne," Calleigh said a bit sharply. Why? She couldn't tell. But she felt the need to let them know she was a professional.

"Detective Duquesne," the man repeated. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Calleigh let out a sigh. "I don't know. I think he fell off the tree."

One paramedic looked up as the other one felt around for Eric's vitals. "How far up?"

Calleigh shook her head, feeling useless again. Angry. She should know this. "I'm not sure. Maybe 20 feet. I'm not sure."

"It's okay," the paramedic said, kneeling down to help his partner but placing a comforting hand on Calleigh's upper arm first.

"Do you know how long he's been unconscious?" the other paramedic asked.

She hesitated, trying to do the math in her head but suddenly she was distracted by the brace they were putting around Eric's neck. Procedure, she knew that, but it still scared her. "We called you right away. He moved his head just a second ago."

The paramedics seemed pleased with that information, and now, Calleigh couldn't do much but stand back and let them work. When they were certain that Eric's vitals were stable, they loaded him into the backboard and began to carry him towards the ambulance.

Calleigh grabbed her gun and quickly followed. "I have to go with him."

"Are you family?" a paramedic asked.

"He's my partner," she responded.

The paramedics looked at each other before one of them relented. "Alright."

Calleigh knew there was even more evidence to be processed now, she knew she needed to inspect Eric's gun and she knew she had to investigate where the gunshot came from, but even though she knew these things, there was no way she would be able to convince herself to stay. Brian walked behind her, looking scared and concerned, and Calleigh took a moment to pat his arm reassuringly. "Can you drive?"

Brian stuttered for a moment before blurting out a, "Yeah."

"Okay," Calleigh breathed. "Don't wait for the sheriff. Take the car and follow us."

"Where are you going?" Brian asked.

"Weems Memorial," one of the paramedics told Brian over his shoulder.

"You have your license with you?" Calleigh asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Brian said, already walking towards the car, which was parked next to the ambulance.

"Don't speed, Brian, be careful," Calleigh warned him before she stepped into the ambulance and sat to the side. The paramedic closed the door, the siren went off, and the ambulance started rushing them to the hospital.

She watched Eric's face, completely immobile now, as the paramedic took his blood pressure. "He was awake a minute ago, what happened?"

"He's probably got a nasty concussion," the paramedic said as he wrote Eric's BP down. He put the pen in his shirt pocket and moved over Eric, inspecting the wound with a penlight. "What's his name?"

"Eric Delko," Calleigh said, surprised to realize her voice was still trembling a bit.

"Mr. Delko!" the paramedic shouted, shining the penlight into Eric's eyes until his head shied away from it. "Good morning! My name's Eli Parsons, I'm a paramedic. Do you remember what happened?"

A part of Calleigh didn't want to look, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from his face. Eric looked like he was completely drugged, his eyelids moving slowly, his eyes barely moving at all underneath them. The paramedic asked Eric some questions, none of which Eric was able to answer. He kept going under, until the paramedic would force him to wake up. The process went on again and again until Eric looked annoyed, suddenly his hand lazily moved up to try and take his neck brace off.

"Uh oh, not yet," the paramedic said. He took Eric's shoe off and poked the bottom of his left foot with his pen; Eric's foot jerked away instantly. "Good."

Calleigh let out a sigh of relief. Paralysis hadn't crossed her mind yet, but now that she considered it, even now when she knew she didn't need to worry about that, it scared her.

"I'm gonna take this off, but only if you promise to stay awake," the paramedic said, his voice still too loud for Calleigh's taste but she knew Eric was barely hearing him.

Eric didn't really respond, but the brace came off anyway. The paramedic soaked a couple of bandages in a clear liquid and began to clean around Eric's wound, glancing at Calleigh over his shoulder as he worked.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Calleigh looked at him, her mind too lethargic and overworked to understand the question. "What?"

"Are you bleeding?"

Calleigh looked at herself, her hands, her clothes. She shook her head. There was blood on her skin, pants and shirt, but it wasn't her blood. The paramedic handed her a couple of bandages and she cleaned herself, throwing them on the rig's floor, as he did, when they became too dirty.

When she finished, Eric's face was clean, a new bandage covering his wound. She reached over and placed her hand on his forehead, noticing how warm his skin was, and his eyes fluttered open, looking at her like he had never looked at her before, emotionless, except for that unmistakable look of confusion.

The paramedic noticed this immediately. "Mr. Delko, do you know who that is?"

Eric's face looked even more confused. He stared at Calleigh, and she could tell he was trying hard to remember or say something, but seconds went by and he couldn't seem to remember, or speak.

"Do you know her name?" the paramedic asked again, loudly, a bit of concern palpable in his voice.

The silence seemed to be stretching. Eric would close his eyes slowly and then open them again, looking at Calleigh almost as if he was looking at her for the first time. It literally hurt her, inside, looking at him like that, knowing that at that moment, right then, she was a complete stranger to him. It was such a horrible feeling, hurt her so excruciatingly, that she was sure she would never wish it on her worst enemy. It made her heart beat irregularly and created pools of tears in her eyes. And it seemed to go on for hours.

She finally reached for his hand, tenderly, and gave it a squeeze. "Come on, Eric."

Her voice seemed to trigger something in Eric's mind, and his eyes closed as he whispered, "Calleigh."

Such a sense of relief washed over Calleigh that her eyes closed and two streams of tears instantly trickled down her face, had never been so happy to hear him say her name before. She felt a hand on her arm, and opened her eyes to see the paramedic smile at her. "I think he'll be fine."

She smiled back, but her attention quickly returned to Eric. The paramedic shook his face again as he walked by, forcing Eric to open his eyes. "Make sure he stays awake."

Calleigh watched as he walked towards the front and started giving instructions to the guy behind the wheel. She knelt beside the stretcher, holding Eric's hand, and scratched the back of his head when his eyes closed. He looked at her and gave her a smile, and it seemed to Calleigh that at any other time, any other place, she could've been waking him up to go to work.

"Calleigh," he said, as if he was hearing the paramedic's question again.

"Yeah," Calleigh smiled. "You got it."

His smile didn't diminish but his eyes slowly closed again. "Hey," Calleigh said, making him open them. He looked at her with the same confusion he had exhibited earlier, as if his mind was at a blank again, but then his features softened, like the information had flooded back into his mind. It was confusing just watching him; she couldn't imagine how he must have been feeling.

"What happened?" he asked and Calleigh had to inch her head closer to be able to hear him.

"I think you took a fall there," Calleigh said. "Should've told me you were such a bad climber. Next time remind me to put a little wager on it."

Eric smiled just briefly, too tired to chuckle, blinking lazily. His head moved slightly and he glanced around the ambulance, looking confused again before his eyes found Calleigh's.

"Do you remember what happened?" she asked, trying to get him to talk so he would stay awake, but despite her best efforts, his eyes closed again. "Eric!" she said loudly.

He opened his eyes to look at her, emotionless again, and his eyebrows furrowed. "What happened?"

Calleigh frowned inwardly in fear, anger, and just about every nasty emotion. She had just answered that question less than thirty seconds ago but he couldn't seem to remember that. An uneasy feeling developed in the pit of her stomach but she tried to smile at him, let him know everything was okay. She brought the back of his hand to her lips and kissed his skin, and in the background she could see his eyes fluttering close again.

"Hey," she exclaimed, forcing him to open them. "You can't go to sleep, Eric."

Eric frowned, and she could tell he was trying, really trying. His eyelids looked like they weighed tons and she felt bad for him, but she couldn't let him go to sleep. Not yet. It was too dangerous.

"I'm so tired," he complained, sounding sleepy, like merely talking took too much energy out of his body.

"I know," Calleigh said. "But you have to stay awake."

"Can't," Eric said, looking like he was in pain, nauseous, something.

"Yes you can. We're almost there," she said.

But Eric was hopelessly losing his battle against unconsciousness. His eyes closed and Calleigh called his name, again and again, but nothing happened. He was gone. The paramedic heard the distress and came over, and with his thumb, he strongly pressed on the bone between Eric's breasts.

Eric groaned in pain, squeezing Calleigh's hand strongly, for a second, and then his grip slowly loosened. He was awake again and Calleigh was glad for that, though she knew he would have a nasty bruise there in the morning.

"It's not nap time," the paramedic shouted at Eric, trying to keep him humored but Calleigh knew that if Eric could, he would tackle this Eli Parsons to the ground right now.

The siren suddenly began to die away. The ambulance finally came to a complete stop and Calleigh had to sit back and watch as they loaded Eric out. She followed them into the emergency room, trying to see if Eric was still awake, trying to get any kind of information out of the paramedics, what they would do, how long it would take, if Eric would be fine, but suddenly they disappeared behind a couple of doors and a nurse stopped her from going further.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. Medical personnel only."

Calleigh tried to argue her way out of that one, but it was no use. She wasn't a doctor, or a nurse, there was no way they would let her inside. The nurse guided her towards the waiting area, holding a clipboard in her hands. "Are you his wife?"

Calleigh sat down and didn't really answer the question. She could say no, and just let the nurse know she was a cop, that Eric was her partner, and therefore she was entitled to know what was happening in there, what they were doing to him. But she also knew that wives were priority, that they were treated better, that sometimes they were even allowed inside. So she just remained silent and let the nurse think whatever she wanted to think. Suddenly she was too emotionally drained to come up with a definite response, to even care what this woman thought of her, of them.

"Okay," the nurse said, sitting next to her. "I need you to fill some of this information out, whatever you can, and hand it to the receptionist. A doctor will come out to talk to you as soon as we know something, I'm gonna tell him you're waiting out here. Do you know if he's allergic to any kind of medication?"

Calleigh shook her head. "I don't know." The nurse looked like she hadn't expected her to, and it wasn't like Calleigh walked around, asking people if they were allergic to anything, but it still felt like she should know that. It felt like she should know his blood type and it felt that she should know his social security number just like she knew how he liked his coffee and just like she knew he got nosebleeds when he was stressed out, and it was killing her than she didn't.

"He hates needles," she said lamely, because it felt important at the moment and because she didn't like the idea of them poking Eric around like he was a sack of flour. They should know that.

The nurse smiled. "A doctor will talk to you soon."

Calleigh sighed as she watched the nurse go. She tried to concentrate on all these questions on the page and most of them she answered without hesitation. The ones she didn't know, she left in blank but made a mental note to learn the answers later. When she finished, she handed the clipboard to a large receptionist, who merely just told her she had to wait some more.

As she made her way towards the sitting area, Brian bustled through the doors. "Sorry, couldn't find a parking space."

Calleigh smiled, sitting down. Almost instantly, her cell phone began to ring. It was the sheriff, who, apparently, had gotten there just as the ambulance was pulling out. He had secured the scene but was wondering what she wanted him to do. Calleigh wished she could stop being a cop for a second, just a damn second, and just be. Because it was getting hard to think, let alone try to remember every meticulous procedure her job demanded of her.

So she told him what to do, in Layman's terms, which was basically just gathering all the evidence they could find without getting their prints all over them and try to figure out who the shooter had been, if anyone who owned a gun lived close by, etc. The sheriff assured her everything would be okay under his watch, which was really more than enough for her to put this whole crime thing out of her mind, and hung up the phone.

"What did they say?" Brian asked.

Calleigh frowned at him. "Who?"

"The doctors."

Calleigh shook her head. "Nothing yet. Probably a concussion."

"Man," Brian grimaced.

"Still feel like becoming a CSI?" Calleigh asked.

"Hell yeah," Brian said, trying to hide his enthusiasm in light of the situation.

Calleigh looked at him weirdly, as if he was an alien. Then looked down and chuckled lightly. "What are you wearing?"

Brian looked down at his gloved hands. "He told me not to take them off."

She had to laugh. Really. It was suddenly the only thing she felt would keep her from going completely insane. She laughed until the tears appeared, which was almost immediately, and it was now Brian's turn to look at her as if she had grown a second head. Calleigh wiped her wet face with the palms of her hands and shook her head. "You can take them off, Brian."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Calleigh said and watched as he snapped the latex gloves off and threw them in a nearby trashcan. He then came back and sat next to her nervously.

"Are you okay?" he asked after a brief pause. "I can't tell whether you're laughing or crying."

Calleigh chuckled and sniffled. "Oh, God, me neither."

Brian smiled, looking around the room, hands pinned under his thighs. "I hate hospitals," he suddenly muttered.

"You don't have to stay. Really, you've been helpful enough," Calleigh said.

"Nah," Brian smiled. "Think I'll stick around. You might need me or something."

Calleigh smiled. "Thanks, Brian."

"No prob," Brian answered.

If Brian had more than one reason for hating hospitals, Calleigh only hated them for one reason only: all the waiting. She couldn't deal with it. These people, they never came out for updates. They had to know they were waiting. They had to know she was out there, pacing back and forth because sitting down made her feel useless. They had to know the whole "no news is good news" routine just didn't work at a hospital, that she was five minutes away from walking over and strangling the receptionist for no other reason except Calleigh felt the woman knew something about Eric but wasn't telling her. They had to know that waiting rooms made people paranoid, period. That there was nothing to do there but wait and nurse dangerous thoughts. They had to know all these things and if they knew them, why would they leave her waiting? Did they also know she had a gun?

Brian merely followed her with his eyes as she paced back and forth. "Do you want some coffee or something?"

Calleigh stopped pacing, her hands crossed in front of her, and she looked at him briefly before she shook her head. "You should call your mom."

Brian shook his head. "Nah--"

"Call your mom," Calleigh said, ordered. "She's probably worried out of her mind."

Brian didn't argue this time. He merely stood up and walked to the nearest payphone. Calleigh watched him for a while, and then walked towards the receptionist for the billionth time. "Excuse me?"

"Ma'am," the receptionist interrupted, looking annoyed. "I still don't have any information; none of us have the information. Please sit down, I promise you a doctor will come out and talk to you soon."

It was the patronizing tone that made Calleigh so angry. She was two seconds away from making a spectacle out of herself in the middle of the waiting room when suddenly her cell phone began to ring.

Saved by the bell.

"Duquesne," she barked over the phone.

"Calleigh, is everything okay?" Horatio asked, a bit taken aback by her tone.

Calleigh sighed. "No. Eric... is in the hospital, they won't tell me anything, and I don't know what to do anymore--"

"Whoa, hold on, go back," Horatio said. "What happened to Eric?"

"He fell off a tree, gathering evidence," she said, finding that suddenly it was hard to be eloquent. "He hit his head, the paramedics came. I don't know what they're doing to him and they won't tell me anything."

"Alright, calm down," Horatio said soothingly. "I'm sure he's going to be okay."

"Yeah," Calleigh sighed, her breath a bit shaky, trying her best to disguise that. She hated being weak in front of Horatio.

"What's the number to the hospital?" he asked.

Calleigh let out a sigh of relief as she grabbed a small pamphlet off the counter, dictating him the number. She knew that if Horatio called, they would give her some information soon. Everybody listened to Horatio. He had a way with people.

"Alright, I'm gonna call and get any information I can get. If they tell me something, I'll call you right back. I'll also call Eric's parents to let them know what happened."

Calleigh closed her eyes. She hadn't even thought of Calling Eric's parents. Just thinking about that phone call made her feel like she would explode at any moment. "Thanks, Horatio."

"Hang in there," Horatio said before he hung up the phone.

Calleigh tucked her phone away, throwing the receptionist a nasty glare, which was mostly ignored, before she went back to the sitting area. Brian was waiting for her there, same chair he had been sitting before.

"My mom wants to know if you need anything."

Calleigh smiled and shook her head. "Was she mad at you?"

"Nah," Brian said. "Just worried about you two, that's all. She worries about everyone."

She sat down next to him, liking the way that sounded. "She's a great woman."

"Yeah, I guess," Brian said reluctantly.

Calleigh smiled, feeling nothing but gratitude towards these people who probably couldn't remember her last name but were suddenly treating her like family. Weird to think her whole sanity was pretty much in the hands of a scrawny, jaded, sixteen year old boy. Weird to think but she also got the feeling she'd have lost it long ago if Brian hadn't been there. He kept her mind from drifting into uncharted territory, from thinking about what Eric was going through in there, as he talked about his on and off girlfriend, his many failed attempts at starting a band with his friends, his fascination cops and the human body and anything relating to the two. Calleigh didn't say much, her mind trapped between paying attention to him, and thoughts of Eric. She tried to put him out of her mind but he kept sneaking back in, along with all these paranoid thoughts that she knew wouldn't be around if it wasn't for all the damn waiting.

Horatio didn't call back, but half an hour later, Calleigh had never been so happy to see a man wearing blue scrubs before. A doctor approached them, reading her name off the chart. "Calleigh Duquesne?"

Calleigh bolted up before he had finished, ignoring the way he had completely butchered her last name. "Yes."

"Hi, my name is Dr. Griffith; I was the attending in charge when your husband came in."

"How is he?" Calleigh asked.

"Well, that's a nasty blow to the head he's go there, just received 12 stitches on his forehead. We sent him up to radiology to get a couple of scans, just to make sure there's no damage to the skull or brain. His left wrist is a little tender, too, we're getting some x-rays of that as well," the doctor said. "But it's looking good. He was awake, which is a great sign. We talked to him for a while; he wanted to know if you were okay."

Calleigh chuckled, feeling a bit of the stress and fear melting away. That sounded like Eric, alright. "Can I see him?"

"When he comes out of radiology, sure. He'll get a room upstairs, you can wait for him in the waiting area," he said.

Calleigh sighed. Another waiting area. She only hoped it had a much nicer receptionist than this one. "Okay."

"Good," the doctor said. "I'll show you where it is." He walked ahead, followed by Calleigh, followed by Brian. And at least in the radiology waiting area, they were completely alone. Brian immediately immersed himself in a car magazine he found there, and Calleigh resumed her pacing.

Ten minutes later, she received a call from Eric's mom. And it took all her strength not to get panicky again, because Eric's mom was asking her all kinds of questions Calleigh found a bit hard to answer, possibly the most confusing being, "And how are you?" She hadn't yet stopped to think about what she was feeling, nor did she want to. She was sure that if that dam broke, the waters would destroy everything in its path. It was too chaotic to even ponder. She couldn't deal with that now.

So Calleigh assured her she was doing fine, just waiting for Eric to get his x-rays and Eric's mom sounded relieved. It was hard not to fall in love with Clorinda Delko. The woman was the epitome of a perfect mother, at least to Calleigh.

Not five minutes after she hung up, Horatio called. Knowing Calleigh was a bit calmer now, he took the opportunity to ask more detailed questions. Calleigh told him about the shot, about the clothes Brian found, and all the information she had been able to gather at the scene. Also told him he should call the sheriff, since the evidence was now in the Apalachicola police department's hands. She had yet to call the sheriff herself to ask him what he had been able to find but Horatio didn't seem angry about that. Just told her to take the night off, to take it easy tomorrow and just make sure Eric got his rest. She had never really been more grateful to have a boss like Horatio. He even offered to ship Ryan up there to help them out but Calleigh assured him it wasn't necessary. If she knew Eric, and she knew Eric, he wouldn't let 12 stitches stop him from going back to work as soon as humanly possible.

When Horatio hung up, Calleigh sent Brian downstairs so he could get himself something to eat. She also tried to convince him to go home, get some rest but he stubbornly refused. Who would drive her back to the bed and breakfast, he asked her? So she let him go downstairs and stayed there alone as the sun descended into the mountains. Her feet began to morosely walk her back and forth, and she resumed her waiting.

--

It was already dark outside when Dr. Griffith came back out, holding a couple of x-rays. He spotted Calleigh immediately and walked over. "Miss Duquesne, sorry about the wait, we're a bit backed up."

"How is he?"

"He's fine, his CT scan just came back negative, which is what we were hoping for. His left wrist is sprained, but not broken; should heal in a couple of weeks. Other than that, everything looks good. He was very lucky."

"Yeah," Calleigh breathed.

"I would like to keep him under observation tonight, but he insists that he wants to leave," the doctor added.

Calleigh wasn't surprised. Eric hated hospitals, clinics... he hated the sterility, not to mention the needles. "Can he?"

"Of course, but I would have to advice against it. He was unconscious for a while, I really feel like he should stay, just one night."

"I'll talk to him," Calleigh said.

"Good. Right this way."

Calleigh followed Dr. Griffith down the hall, suddenly a bit scared of what she would find, how Eric would look, if he was still out of it. She hated to admit he had scared her in the ambulance, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to go through that again. Just remembering what it had been like made her apprehensive, and suddenly she wished she could turn around and run but she was also dying to see him, to touch him and make sure he was okay. Not that she didn't trust doctors, but she needed to make sure he was okay by her standards, not the hospital's.

The doctor opened the door to a semi dark room and Eric was practically the first thing her reluctant eyes searched for. He was sitting on a gurney, his shoulders hunched over, wearing one of those hospital gowns. There was a fresh dressing covering his wound, three or four butterfly stitches on his cheekbone, and his left wrist was bandaged, resting on his thigh. When he felt people in the room he looked up, but didn't seem to be in a good mood. He still looked a bit groggy, but mostly just crabby. Calleigh wasn't scared. She had dealt with Eric's foul moods before. Nothing she couldn't control.

She walked over and gave him half a smile, he returned it, but it wasn't very genuine. "How do you feel?" she asked.

Her hand came up to feel his forehead but Eric moved away from her touch. "I wanna go home."

Calleigh tried to look into his eyes, but he kept hiding from her, his chin nearly touching his chest. She knew he was ashamed; she wished she could let him know that feeling was completely unnecessary. "Doctor thinks you should stay."

"No. I'm not staying," he said stubbornly, shaking his head.

"Eric, please," Calleigh begged, placing one hand on the side of his face, one on his thigh and his muscles tensed up. She knew the move was a bit too intimate but she didn't care, as long as she could convince him to stay. "Just one night."

Eric closed his eyes briefly, feeling her cold fingers on his skin. He took a deep breath and let it out, watching as it ruffled Calleigh's hair. He was still feeling a bit out there, a combination of the blow to the head and the drugs they had given him. All he knew was he wanted to leave, couldn't stay there. Hospitals are bad, they're always bad. Maybe he was having a hard time trying to multiply twenty eight times four, but he definitely knew he wanted to leave.

"For me?" Calleigh asked, forcing him to look at her and she was taken aback by how dark his eyes were, so overwhelmed they had reached a level of numbness Calleigh had only seen him exhibit when Speed died.

Eric seemed to be considering that, just for a second, but then shook his head. "I'm sorry, Cal. I don't... I can't. I don't want to. I hate hospitals." He looked up at the doctor. "I'll sign AMA."

The doctor looked from Eric to Calleigh, and could tell by her expression that this was a lost battle. So he let out a sigh. "Okay. I'll have the nurse bring the papers in," he said and walked out of the room.

Calleigh looked at Eric with an inquisitive look, suddenly felt an irrational anger towards him. Why was he being so difficult? "I would really feel better if you stayed," she said, still somewhat nestled between his legs.

"I know," he said.

Calleigh's anger melted away as she watched him. He still kept staring at her shoes, looking tiny and insignificant, and scared, and she knew why he wanted to hide, why he wanted to leave. He didn't want her to look at him like that. She couldn't blame him, either, knowing she would probably react the same way. But hell, it's not like she hadn't seen him like this before, vulnerable. And he had seen her at her worst, too. He knew they were way past that. Why the shame?

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked him again.

He nodded, taking her hand and threading his fingers through hers, noticing for the first time the dried blood in her fingernails, and then the blood on her pants and shirt. Was it his blood? Could it be hers, had she been hurt, too?

He looked up and was a little shocked by the expression of worry on her face, the exhaustion. "Are you okay?" it was his turn to ask.

Calleigh nodded, taking his face in her hands but suddenly she was scared of hurting him, so she let go. But Eric wrapped his good arm around her and pulled her close, resting his nose on her shoulder, feeling the pain leave him as soon as he inhaled her scent and felt her hands wrap themselves around him. He could feel her worry without having to look at her, could even smell it on her. He hadn't meant to cause this much trouble and he meant to tell her that, but then the door to the room opened and Calleigh pulled back instantly.

A nurse came into the room but then stopped when she saw them. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll come back later."

"It's okay," Eric said.

Looking a little embarrassed, the nurse handed Eric a clipboard and walked out quickly. Calleigh sat next to him as he began to read the statement, but the letters were suddenly too tiny and blurry, and Calleigh had to take it and read it for him. She practically had to sign it for him as well; his hand was too weak to hold the pen steadily, but he didn't seem to think that was reason enough to stay.

Documents signed, Eric began to look around for his clothes, and Calleigh found them in a bag under the bed; this was going to be tricky. She pulled out his boxers from the bottom, but she wasn't sure how he would be able to put them on without any help. Not only was he a bit woozy, but his left hand was practically useless.

"Do you want me to call a nurse?" Calleigh asked him, but Eric declined. He was able to at least step into them, but was having a bit of a hard time trying to pull them up and remain standing at the same time. Calleigh looked away for a while, trying to give him some privacy, even though his gown was still on. But after hearing him grunt and struggle for a while, she couldn't take it anymore.

He seemed a bit shocked, ashamed, and surprised at the same time when she grabbed the boxers from around his ankles and pulled them all the way up without touching his skin once, all business and professionalism, like it was her job to do this. Eric sat back on the gurney, trying to catch his breath. "Impressive. You've done this before?" he tried to joke because hey, if he had to choose between the bad jokes and the awkwardness, he'd go with the bad jokes any day.

Calleigh smiled, reaching behind his neck to untie the embarrassing hospital gown; it slid down his arms and he stood up for a bit so she could unpin it from under him and put it away. Ignoring a particularly ugly bruise on his chest, Calleigh reached for his undershirt and carefully put it on him, followed by his shirt, inspecting every button as she looped them through their respective holes, feeling Eric's eyes on her, his breath on the side of her face and it hit her how intimate this felt, like she was violating his privacy but not really. As close as they were, emotionally, they had never been very physically close. There had always been a "do not touch" rule as far as her and Eric were concerned, for reasons she couldn't even remember now, though she could remember at least twenty different times when she had broken that rule herself, not to mention all the times he had broken it. But this was different, dressing him up, much different than patting his arm or giving him an awkward hug. Different and uncomfortable, and just a tad embarrassing, but... something else. Familiar, maybe. Nice.

She tried her best, trying to put his pants on as he sat there, and when it was impossible for her to go further up, Eric stood up and helped her a bit, feeling like it was taking every ounce of energy out of his body, and he felt frustrated, mad that he couldn't even seem to buckle his belt, but Calleigh didn't seem to mind playing aide. She buttoned the pants and he pulled the zipper up, glad he could do something, at least, as insignificant as zipping his pants had always been.

He sat back down to catch his breath and she reached for a chair, grabbed his leg and let his foot rest on her thigh. As soon as the first sock was in place, there was a knock on the door and the same nurse as before poked her head in. "Excuse me? Your son is out here asking for you."

Calleigh looked over her shoulder and smiled. "Can you tell him to bring the car around, please?"

"Sure," the nurse said and left.

Eric frowned, looking confused. "How long have I been here?"

Calleigh chuckled, tying his shoes. "Brian."

Eric shook his head. "Last week I was single, now I have a wife and a sixteen year old son," he joked. "You're not pregnant with twins, are you?"

Calleigh looked up and smiled, thrilled that his sense of humor was back. "And I wanted to tell you over a romantic dinner."

"Oh, no," Eric joked again. Shoes in place, he tried to stand up, but suddenly those boots were heavy as hell and he was back on the gurney again. Calleigh threw him a scolding glance. Lucky for him, the doctor decided to walk into the room at that moment, pushing a wheelchair in front of him.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Eric.

"Good," Eric replied, failing to mention he felt like hell, tired and impossibly nauseous, but he wasn't about to stay at a hospital all night because of a little dizzy spell. The doctor reached for something in his pocket and produced two tiny pill bottles, holding one in the air for Calleigh. He explained what it was for, pain medication, gave her some very specific instructions about when to feed them to him and Eric began to wonder when it had become Calleigh's job to nurse him. But she was a natural, asking questions about the side effects, when he could eat, when he couldn't eat... he had to hand it to her. The second bottle was for the swelling, and a box of bandages with instructions on how to change them and clean his wound properly to avoid infection. Eric had to admit he felt a bit left out, like a five year old, ignored, but he doubted he had the energy to care. The sooner they got out of the hospital, the better.

The doctor helped Calleigh help Eric to the wheelchair, reminding him he was leaving against medical advice, that the hospital wasn't responsible for anything that might happen that night, that basically he was on his own. Eric shrugged it off, knowing the hospital couldn't possibly give him a better nurse than the one he had right now.

--

Linda was waiting by the door when they arrived at the bed and breakfast. With a bit of difficulty, Calleigh and Brian helped Eric up the stairs, followed by Linda, who sounded like she was panicked out of her mind, asking if Eric was okay, asking if there was something she could do. Calleigh tried her best to calm her down, let her know Eric was fine, only needed a good night sleep, but Linda suddenly didn't know what to do with herself and bolted towards the kitchen.

"Told you she worries too much," Brian said as he and Calleigh gently helped Eric sit on the bed. "Are you okay?" he asked Eric.

Eric smiled. "Thank you, Brian."

"If you get to stay in bed tomorrow, maybe we can play Grand Theft Auto again."

Eric smiled. "Maybe."

"Okay. Good night, guys," he said.

"Night, Brian. Thank you so much," Calleigh said.

"Sure."

When he was gone, Calleigh looked at Eric expectantly and raised her eyebrows at him. "Dizzy?"

Eric shook his head.

"Liar."

He chuckled weakly, feeling her hands on him as she pushed him back onto the bed. This already felt ten times better than those damn hospital beds, even if the room was spinning a bit. Calleigh began to take his shoes off, when suddenly they heard Linda's voice again, asking if she could come in.

"I brought you some soup!" she said as she stepped into the room, holding a tray in her hands, along with juice, crackers, water, milk, and just about every drink she had found in the refrigerator. "It's chicken, it's good for you."

Eric watched as she placed the tray on the bedside table. The smell alone caused another wave of nausea. "I'm not hungry."

"Oh, nonsense," Linda said. "You have to eat, how are you gonna get your energy back?"

Calleigh could tell Eric was maybe ten seconds away from throwing up. So she graciously declined, lying about how they had given Eric something to eat at the hospital. Linda looked rejected for a bit, and she felt bad, until the woman smiled again. "How about you, honey? Are you hungry? Brian said you haven't eaten anything."

"You haven't eaten?" Eric exclaimed, his turn to sound concerned and motherly.

"I'm not really hungry," Calleigh replied as she took Eric's socks off.

"Well," Linda said. "I'm going to leave this tray here, and maybe one of you will eat something."

"Thanks, Linda," Calleigh said and watched as the woman walked out, knowing that probably wasn't the last of Linda she'd see tonight.

"You haven't eaten," Eric said disapprovingly, trying to sit up to take his shirt off.

"You're one to talk," Calleigh said, helping him. Taking his pants off was definitely easier than putting them on. They simply slid down to his ankles and as he lay down again, Calleigh folded them and placed them on top of his bag. She returned to his side and sat down next to him, making sure he was warm and comfortable under the blankets. When she was satisfied with that, Calleigh grabbed the glass of milk and handed it to him, then put one of the pain pills the doctor had given her on his palm. Eric gulped it down without complaining, preferring to take them now than wake up in the middle of the night in pain.

Calleigh touched his forehead, and could feel a bit of a headache through his throbbing temples. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

He shook his head, eyes closed, suddenly too tired to even respond.

"Are you sure?"

Eric opened his eyes, both liking and hating the sincerity in her voice. It felt nice knowing she cared, but he didn't want to see her like that, worried and scared, knowing he was the reason. He knew it took a lot to get Calleigh all riled up, and he wished he could remember what happened that afternoon. At least some of it. For Calleigh to be like this, it had to have been bad.

He could still see traces of panic in her eyes, could tell she had cried that afternoon and Eric suddenly felt like scum for not being there for her when she needed him. Even now, he felt useless, wanting to make her feel better but unable to, having a bit of a hard time trying to stay awake, much less think or at least sit up to hold her.

It took almost all his energy to reach for her face with his hand, trying to tell her too many things at once as he caressed her cheek, and it surprised him that she didn't pull back or pushed him away, but rather let out a deep breath, as if she had been holding it for years, and kinda leaned into his touch for a moment, until her hand grabbed his, rubbed it with her cold fingers as she looked him in the eyes, allowing Eric a glimpse of the emotions she never let anyone see. With one look she seemed to have transferred them onto him and suddenly he felt overwhelmed.

"Don't do that again," Calleigh said.

"What?"

"Scare me like that. Don't do it again."

Her tone was so raw he could barely hear her, her voice raspy with sincerity and emotional exhaustion. It suddenly hit him that this was Calleigh, the real Calleigh, the one no one was allowed to see: emotional walls down completely, no pretenses, no make belief. Since Eric had known her, he had only seen her like this once, maybe twice, so long ago he couldn't even remember when. But here she was now, looking scared out of her mind, vulnerable, and so beautiful Eric was sure his heart would stop beating at any moment.

With his hand he pulled her down and she offered no resistance to that, either. Ignoring the pain in his left wrist, he framed her face and kissed her forehead, blonde hair falling all around him like yellow rain. She responded by kissing his cheek, resting her nose on his shoulder like he had done just a little over an hour ago.

"I'm sorry," Eric whispered.

"You should be," Calleigh smiled.

"I am."

Calleigh snuggled up to him carefully, knowing he was on the verge of sleep. Part of her wanted to keep him awake, felt like she should, because right now he was supposed to be at the hospital, and if the doctor felt like he should've stayed, then something wasn't right. What if the CT scan had missed something? What if there was swelling in the brain but the doctors had missed it? What if he rolled off the bed in the middle of the night and his wound opened, or caused further damage?

She kissed his cheek again, feeling his muscles melt under her weight, until his arms fell onto his side limply.

By the time she pulled back, he was already asleep.

But Calleigh's hand remained on the side of his face, for some reason, tracing small circles, just to make sure he was there, to make sure he was real and she wasn't imagining things. Because she was terrified she would open her eyes and realize she was still at the hospital, waiting for bad news.

And suddenly she wished she could wake him, because now that she was alone, with the silence, the "what ifs" started taunting her again. There were guns going off and sirens wailing and she could still see him on the ground, looking dead. She placed her hand over his heart, it was beating strongly, healthy, but still, there were images in her head she couldn't get rid off. He had come so close, so close. So close to losing him she could still feel her fingers trembling, the desperation and the fear making her feel like she was simply going to lose her mind.

And now he was sleeping peacefully in front of her, like nothing had happened. Calleigh grabbed his right hand and gave it a squeeze, still having a hard time believing he was okay. She watched him sleep for God knows how long, making sure he was breathing right, making sure he wouldn't roll on his left hand or hurt his forehead. She watched him until his hand was sweaty, until hers were, too, until her eyes were torn away from his face by a soft knock on the door.

Linda let herself in, smiling at Calleigh and then glancing briefly at Eric like he was a baby. "Oh, he's asleep," she whispered.

"Yeah," Calleigh replied, uselessly smoothing Eric's undershirt like the wrinkles were a health hazard.

"I just came back for the tray," Linda said, looking a little disappointed that no one had touched her soup.

"He was just a little nauseous," Calleigh said apologetically, standing up to help her.

But one look at Calleigh and Linda quickly put the tray down and gave her a sympathy look. "Oh, look at you, honey," she cooed, taking a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbing Calleigh's face with it. "Poor thing. You must have been terrified."

Calleigh pulled away briefly, confused, touching her face to find it wet in some places, humid in others. Had she been crying this whole time?

"Don't you worry about a thing, alright? He's going to be just fine," Linda continued, squeezing Calleigh's hand.

Calleigh was still trying to figure out when these tears had arrived, because she certainly hadn't felt them there until Linda pointed them out. But now that she knew, more and more seemed to be springing out of her eyes despite the fact she kept saying she knew he was going to be fine. And Linda looked like she was about to cry herself, putting her arms around Calleigh like a mother would to a child. Of course, that only triggered more tears until Calleigh just decided to let them come, because suddenly she didn't have the energy to pretend anymore.

"He's fine," Linda repeated, sounding like she was stating a scientific fact. "Look at him, he's fine!"

Calleigh looked at Eric through Linda's shoulder and of course she could see he was fine. He was battered and bruised but he was alive, he was breathing, he was fine. But there was still something there, something that had her trembling on the inside, some kind of uncertainty or fear. It felt a little like staring into a precipice, knowing you're about to be pushed, but not knowing when. All that waiting. It was still terrifying.

"You know what the problem is? You're still spooked," Linda said, and Calleigh thought that was definitely an accurate way to describe it, because her heart was still caught on her throat, had been since she found him face down next to that tree.

"Why don't you come downstairs and drink some milk? It'll make you feel better."

Calleigh shook her head and pulled back, drying her cheeks with her sleeve. "No, he's supposed to be under observation, I think I'll just watch him for a while."

"You're not gonna stay up all night," Linda said incredulously. "How are you gonna take care of him if you get sick?"

Calleigh smiled, chuckled. "I'm okay."

Linda gave her a pitiful look. "Okay. But if you need anything you come and get me, alright?"

"Alright," Calleigh replied.

"And there's food in the refrigerator, if you get hungry."

"Thank you," Calleigh sniffled.

"Night, honey," Linda smiled, picked up her tray, and walked out.

Alone again, Calleigh let out a heavy sigh and threw her head back, feeling her eyes had swollen up to the size of melons. She turned around to look at Eric; he was still sleeping peacefully, breathing rhythmically. So she decided to take a hot shower, throw away her bloody clothes, and relax under the steam. But ended up cutting the shower short, that nagging feeling that Eric needed her making her a bit nervous again, though when she walked out she found him sleeping, still in the same position.

Calleigh was sure now she was rapidly making her descent into madness.

She left one lamp turned on and lay down next to him to begin her watch. Nose close to his shoulder again, she took a deep breath of that scent that after a fall, a hospital visit, and, she was sure, bottles and bottles of rubbing alcohol, still was all "Eric". Crazy, but it made all the paranoid thoughts go away, because if she could smell him there, then he was real. God knows how many types of cologne he had switched to since she'd met him, but he always managed to drag that same scent wherever he went, leave it on everything he touched. It never failed to make her feel warm, care-free, didn't fail to do that now as she slowly traced her finger on his bruised cheek, counting the moles and birth marks that decorated his face and all the way down to his neck. Her mind briefly reminded her she came close to never seeing those birth marks again and her body instinctively moved closer to his.

Her mind also reminded her she had never reacted this way every time she had been in danger herself, when Horatio was in danger, not even when Speedle died. Her mind retaliated with a headache when that thought went ignored.

With her eyes glued to Eric's face and her hand resting on his stomach, counting the seconds it took for it to rise and fall, Calleigh battled with sleep and exhaustion, trying to make it through this ridiculous notion that was her night vigilance.

To be continued...