A/N: Final chapter.

Chapter 5

The day was balmy at half-past ten in the morning. The canal was tepid, green, menacing. Any other day, Eric might have looked upon that water with eagerness in his eye, the chance to go swamp diving awaiting him. Not today. Today the water meant death. It meant suffering for a good and honest family.

The familia Valdes stood reverently, tearfully by the final resting place of their daughter, their sister, their niece and granddaughter. Consuela's small memorial would never be enough to remember the vivacity and joy the girl brought to life every day. The cross could never convey how much her family loved her or how much they would miss her.

Francisco tossed a white rose into the canal. Milagra's followed. In the background, the music played, and they remembered sweet Consuela.

I can fly but I want his wings

I can shine even in the darkness

Horatio stepped forward and added his rose to the others. The white petals stood out in stark contrast against the deep green of the moss and algae.

But I crave the light that he brings

Revel in the songs that he sings

My angel Gabriel

Eric took Horatio's place by the edge of the water. He lifted his rose and stared at it for a moment before throwing it into the canal. A final act of kindness. A final apology to the girl he should have saved.

I can love…

Calleigh moved to stand beside Eric and contributed her own flower. Mere inches separated the two friends, and their hands absently reached for each other. Francisco and Milagra slowly turned away from their daughter's memorial, Horatio followed them, and Calleigh seized the opportunity to seek Eric's gaze. No words, just the compassion only a best friend can give.

To hell with the carefully constructed boundaries they'd built over the years. Eric pulled Calleigh into an impossibly tight hug. Her toes nearly left the ground as he tugged her close and buried his head in her shoulder. He wouldn't cry, but his chest ached and he valiantly fought the constriction in his throat.

Calleigh smelled like lilies and honeysuckle, and she drowned out the musk of the nearby glades. At first Eric's gesture had taken her aback, because he rarely hugged her and he never hugged her like this, so greedily or desperately. He sank against her.

She felt his slow, labored breath against her neck and sighed. It was nice to be needed, and Calleigh relished the ability to comfort the man who rarely let her do so. She didn't have many chances to exercise her nurturing side. In truth, she didn't often pursue the chance to nurture others. Speedle and Eric, perhaps her father and brothers, were the exceptions.

Eventually Eric let her go, but Calleigh didn't do the same and held fast to his hand. Their eyes locked and he squeezed her fingers in gratitude.

"Okay?" she asked.

"Okay." His voice was clear and absent of the consuming guilt which had filled it the last few days, and Calleigh took that as a good sign.

"You sound better," she remarked.

A ghost of a smile darted across Eric's face. "I feel better. Talking to Consuela's family, the memorial—it helped."

"I'm glad." She stole one last glance at the canal behind them, and Eric's eyes followed. "We should get going."

"Yeah."

They took off in the direction of their vehicles, a good mile from where they currently stood. Calleigh kept her hand locked with Eric's, smiling at the sweat that inevitably formed between their palms.

Eric noticed her pursed lips. "What's so funny, Cal?"

Calleigh's expression burgeoned into one of amusement. "You're all sticky," she laughed.

Her laughter was contagious, and Eric smiled, too. "No, you're all sticky."

"I guess that's the joy of holding hands," the petite blonde responded with an off-handed shrug of her shoulders. She playfully swung their conjoined fingers back and forth and skipped a step as she walked. Delko laughed even harder at her antics. He could easily picture a young Calleigh Duquesne, all braided pigtails and scraped knees, running wildly in the woods behind her house. Probably chasing her little brothers.

Eric's mind settled into quiet thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Calleigh," he uttered sincerely.

She looked up at him. "For what?"

"For being such a good friend. For knowing how to distract me for a while."

"Well, you would do the same. I'm just glad you let me."

Eric smiled again, his white teeth peeking out shyly from behind his lips. "Hey, you're just as stubborn sometimes."

"Well, that's why we're such great friends," Calleigh chuckled.

They settled into comfortable silence the last quarter mile and dropped their hands with a final squeeze as they reached the end of the dirt trail. Eric turned toward his car and was about to throw out a goodbye when Calleigh beat him to the punch.

"Hey, Delko!" she called. Crossing the few feet between them, she wrapped him in another tight hug and then pulled back to meet his eyes. "Everything's going to be okay."

Eric nodded. "I would say I'll see you at work tomorrow, but I guess that's not true, is it?"

Calleigh dismissed his comment and Eric could see that she wasn't going to let him wallow in either guilt or pity. No patience for bullshit, this woman. "Dinner. My place, 7:30. Bring beer."

Eric rolled his eyes but agreed. "Got it. I'll see ya later."

"'Kay."

They parted ways, but neither one of them made it to their respective vehicles. Eric was distracted by the sight of Horatio standing twenty feet away, twiddling his sunglasses and talking to a reporter, and Calleigh was distracted by Eric's distraction. Although she craved the relief of the Hummer's frigid air-conditioner, Calleigh surreptitiously circled her car and watched her friend instead. His olive skin was beginning to glisten in the ever-present Miami sun, but he paid no heed to the oppressive heat and stood stock still, training his ears to catch his LT's conversation.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant Caine. Jake Grant with the Sun-Times," Eric heard the stranger explain. "I'm doing a story on CSI's involvement with the David Kendall case."

Seven yards away, Delko's stomach dropped. An exposé on police officers who attacked cuffed prisoners would ruin his career, not to mention tarnish H's reputation and jeopardize the lab's credibility.

There was no basis for his fear, however, as he quickly realized Grant had no knowledge of his little rampage, nor was he seeking to vilify the police department. Quite the contrary, he seemed impressed with their work and wanted to highlight MDPD's dedication to finding missing children.

Missing white children, Eric corrected. It wasn't a personal critique of Jake Grant, rather a commentary on the concerns of the media as a whole. Little attention was ever paid to the scores of disappeared children with brown or black skin.

"Do you have any comment?"

"I'll do better than that." Horatio never ceased to surprise his youngest CSI. Reaching into his coat pocket, he retrieved a plain white piece of paper and handed it to the Sun-Times reporter, who examined it for a moment.

"It's a list of names."

Horatio nodded. "Yes. In the last twelve months, Jake, seven Hispanic girls and five black girls disappeared right here in Miami, and not one of them made it to the front page."

"What's your point?"

"What's my point?" the redhead asked, turning away from Grant. "Make it your next story." With that, he walked away.

Lt. Caine maintained a positive relationship with the local media, minus the occasional over-zealous investigative journalist. Delko knew that Horatio never said something he didn't mean, never made promises he couldn't keep. The press knew it, too, and conveyed as much to their audiences. Thus, even though H's short comments made for great stuff on the evening news, most people were aware that he was not a man of simple sound bites.

His words resonated with Eric. Perhaps everything that had happened wasn't completely in vain; Horatio was basically promising the public a change at MDPD and challenging all of Miami to do the same thing. He watched his boss walk straight toward him, and the look in his eye said that he had something on his mind other than reporters.

As the older man approached, he said, "Eric, I want to talk to you."

Delko's anger had dissipated over the night and he faced Horatio now without resentment. Really, he'd never resented the man. H wasn't just his boss, he was a friend, and Eric's anger was aimed more at himself than the strict punishment he had received.

"Okay."

"Follow me to Alessandro's?" Horatio asked. That was odd. The two men often shared a brown bag lunch in the courtyard behind CSI, a quick bite in the middle of a hectic day. But to take time to go to a restaurant, to intentionally meet, was something new.

Eric agreed, wondering what was on Horatio's mind. "Alright. I'll be right behind you."

H nodded and headed to his Hummer. Behind her own county vehicle, Calleigh witnessed the entirety of both exchanges. Smiling to herself, she continued to watch as the men drove away. Eric may have no idea what their LT wanted to discuss, but Calleigh knew exactly what occupied his thoughts.

A new chapter, open and honest, was about to start for their team. Calleigh looked forward to it with great expectation. She climbed into her truck, thinking happily that things were on the brink of change for her best friend.

At half-past twelve in the afternoon, the day was just hot. The air was thick, heavy, and suffocating. Eric and Horatio sat across from each other in a small booth under the blessed fans of Alessandro's, the CSIs' go-to for Italian food.

As soon as they had ordered, Delko cut to the chase. He was nervous enough as it was, and it was not with a little shame that he sat before his boss and mentor right now. "What's up, H?"

Horatio stared at his hands, playing, as always, with his dark sunglasses. "I, um, I wanted to talk to you, Eric." His blue eyes rose to meet brown.

"Go on," Eric said and shifted in his seat.

"I, um, I had a conversation with Calleigh last night."

Calleigh? H was taking him out to lunch to talk about Calleigh? Eric wondered if this had anything to do with this morning. They didn't make a habit of such closeness, and now that he thought about it, he could see how easily their behavior at the memorial service could be mistaken for something more than it was. The boundaries they built in their friendship weren't there for nothing, after all.

Eric and Calleigh were not blind to the attraction that flowed between them when they first met. Wisely, they chose to ignore it. Neither one of them wanted to start something, and definitely not with a coworker. So they'd become best friends instead, naturally forming some unwritten and unspoken rules about how they interacted with each other. No use in playing with fire, no matter how latent the flames seemed to be.

Now, Eric barely thought about it. They bantered, parried, flirted like any man and woman who spent a majority of their time together. On a few occasions the attraction would rear its tempestuous head and remind Eric that it was still there, but his friendship with Calleigh superseded any other feelings he may or may not have for her. Maybe someday that would change, but not today, and not tomorrow.

Horatio had waited for some kind of reaction from Delko, but receiving nothing but a thoughtful gaze, he pressed on. "She was upset."

Eric scrunched his forehead with a bit of concern. "Why would Cal be upset?"

"She, um, she took issue with the way I handled the incident with Kendall."

Although it didn't happen very often, it was possible for Eric to get angry at Calleigh. And right now, he was pretty damn mad.

"She shouldn't have interfered," he said roughly. He dreaded to think what she'd done, what she'd said on his behalf. If Calleigh was truly upset, she was a force to be reckoned with. Eric leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, contemplating the ramifications of her actions.

"I'm glad she did, Eric," Horatio admitted.

Eric's eyes snapped up quickly. "What?"

"I'm glad she spoke up," the man sighed and rested his elbows on the table. He chuckled. "She's a hell of a woman."

Delko couldn't deny that. "What did she say?"

"Several things. Before I explain, you need to know that Calleigh came to me as my chief of staff first, and your friend second. She would never betray your trust."

"But apparently she did," Eric remarked, seeing where this conversation was going.

"No. Calleigh saw an issue with the team that I couldn't. She's perceptive, Eric, and straightforward. That's why I hired her."

"So…"

"So," Horatio said slowly, "we had a conversation about your personnel file."

"What was the conclusion?"

"The conclusion, the conclusion was that I am not perfect. And I owe you an apology."

Of all the things Eric expected Horatio to say to him over lunch, apologizing was never on the agenda. One of the things he appreciated most about the lieutenant was his willingness to own his mistakes, so he shouldn't have been surprised.

Nevertheless, he was a little embarrassed that Calleigh's interdiction had led to such a gesture. "No you don't, H. I know I went too far. Whatever Calleigh said to you doesn't change that."

"That's what I said," Horatio smiled. "But there are mitigating circumstances."

"And how's that."

"When Calleigh came into my office, she asked me a question. She asked me why I come down so hard on you. Judging by your reaction…I take it you realize she's right?"

"Yeah," Delko said in surprise, shaking his head. "But I didn't think you knew she was. I mean… I don't know what I mean."

"You didn't think I recognized what I was doing?"

"Yeah, I guess. Listen, I'm not complaining—"

Horatio stopped him. "Eric, I know that. It speaks to your character that you didn't. And it speaks to Calleigh's that she did…"

Their meals arrived and the conversation turned briefly to the waiter and the food. Taking a bite of his Portobello ravioli and a sip of his drink, Eric resumed their talk. "So Calleigh complained? About what?"

"She didn't complain," Horatio clarified. "She made a compelling case for why I should, ah, adjust my approach to my CSIs." A wry smile formed on his lips that made Eric believe the man hadn't totally disagreed with his fiery ballistics expert. To be a fly on that wall…

"Calleigh had every right to approach me. Eric, I value your contributions to this team. I value your friendship. Calleigh pointed out that sometimes, sometimes I forget to show it."

"H—" The young CSI wanted to reassure Horatio that he never once doubted the man's devotion to either his job or the people that worked for him. If Delko, Speedle, and Calleigh were the Three Musketeers, Horatio was Alexandre Dumas. Without him at their helm, there would be no them.

"Listen, Eric. I do take a hard line with you. I gave Calleigh your personnel file to show her why. You're an outstanding criminalist, but you have a lot to learn. Using your emotions to your advantage and not your detriment, for instance."

"I know," Eric declared, feeling chastised and not quite looking Horatio in the eye.

"Hold on, Mr. Delko. Calleigh had a few lessons to teach me in return."

Baffled, Eric set down his fork and indicated that Horatio explain. The man didn't speak, but reached into his jacket and removed a brown-tinted, well-loved photograph. He set it gently on the table between them, and Eric recognized it instantly.

"Where did you get this?" he asked angrily, snatching up the picture. He couldn't bring himself to put it away, but he also didn't feel right about leaving it on the table for all the world to see. The photo represented so much about who he was, who he used to be. Somehow, he felt like leaving it exposed left him exposed. And in reality, it did.

"Calleigh gave it to me. Eric, hear me out, okay?"

"What do you know, H?" Delko's tone brooked no argument. Horatio would answer this time.

"As I said, several things. Things that weren't in your record. I know…I know you weren't born in Miami. I know about Alida…I know about Alexander Sharova."

Eric shut his eyes tight, scratched his head, and let out a very frustrated breath. "Calleigh…"

"Don't Eric."

"There's a reason I didn't tell you! I—I didn't mean to disrespect you, or lie to you. Calleigh's the only one who knows those things and, God, I don't know."

"She was right to tell me. I understand why you didn't. I thought the only way for you to take your heart off your sleeve was with a strong lesson in discipline. I know better now."

"Just because you heard a few stories about my past?" Delko sounded skeptical at best. He had much to be proud of in his life, but much to be ashamed of, too. He'd fought hard for Horatio's respect, and he didn't want his mentor to think less of him after what he'd learned.

"Yes. Because, Eric, you and I are the same person." The younger man scoffed, but Horatio persisted, undaunted and headstrong from years spent carrying the same burdens as the CSI on the other side of that table.

"Go ahead and pretend like the guilt, the shame isn't devastating, Eric. Tell me you don't think about it every morning when you wake up. And I will tell you that your life, your life is waiting. It won't wait forever."

For the second time that day, Eric fought against the damn lump in his throat. Complete honesty burned in Horatio's eyes. Blue eyes that had seen their fair share of hurt and regret. "Horatio, I can't just forget my past. It doesn't work that way."

"No, it doesn't. And it shouldn't." He took a deep breath and formulated his next words, speaking again with a new set to his shoulders. "You know, when I was a rookie at NYPD, an old sergeant took me under his wing. He told me something."

"Hmm."

"'Our pasts will always haunt us,' he said. 'The day you turn your story into something more, you'll be a cop.' Eric, you have discipline, you have drive. You need trust."

Delko was so caught up trying to decipher the first part of Horatio's statement that he didn't grasp the meaning of the second part. "Sorry?"

H smiled. "I talked to Mr. Stetler this morning. The SA is proceeding with David Kendall's prosecution. Barring paperwork, IA has completed their investigation. As for the suspension, I expect to see you back at work on Monday morning."

"Are you serious?" Eric was shocked at the sudden turnabout. First of all, Internal Affairs never wrapped up an inquiry so quickly. Horatio most certainly had a hand in the decision to close the case. The question was, 'Why?' The answer came in the form of a Southern spitfire named Calleigh Duquesne.

"Yes, I am. The letter of reprimand stands, Eric. I, um, I wanted to talk to you about something else."

"Okay." Honestly, what else could there be?

"The part about trust… Fit reps are due in two weeks. When I send them in, I am recommending you for promotion to CSI Level 3."

"H," Delko interrupted. The lieutenant had lost his mind. Eric beats up a suspect, ignores a direct order from his supervisor, walks out on the job, and the man not only mitigates his punishment, he promotes him early? "Do—do you know what that will look like?"

"I do. It will look like I have confidence in my CSI. Eric, no one can deny your merit as a police officer. You need guidance, and starting today, I am here for you. Like I should have been all along."

Eric nodded slowly, letting everything sink in. Horatio was dead on. The secrets of his past tortured him, but they propelled him forward. Handing Eric more responsibility—healthy responsibility—would require him to focus more on the job and less on his inner turmoil. He'd have to step up in a big way. With his LT behind him, Delko felt the smallest glimmer of hope; he could conquer his demons, channel his struggles into the work he loved so much. He could make Alida proud.

"I don't know what to say, H."

"Say you'll come talk to me when your temper starts to get the best of you."

A bright smile broke across Eric's face. "I can do that," he said, extending his hand to his boss. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Mr. Delko, yesterday can't happen again."

"It won't," he grinned. "It won't."

"Good," Horatio said, his own knowing smile spreading wide. The check was on the table and they were finished eating, so he threw down a few bills and the two men made their way out of the restaurant. Once in the parking lot, Delko shook Horatio's hand again. They said their goodbyes and headed to their cars.

"Oh, and Eric!" H called at the last minute. When he had his counterpart's attention, he said with a wink, "Go easy on Calleigh tonight."

"How did you—" Eric started to ask, but Horatio was already gone. If he'd learned anything today about Horatio Caine, it was that the man knew a lot more than he let on. Eric just smiled and pulled his cell out of his front pocket. He hit speed dial, and a voice soon came over the line.

"Duquesne."

"Calleigh, you are in so much trouble…" Eric climbed in his car, talking to his friend and thinking that he was a lucky man to have a woman like her on his side.

Someday, he thought with a secret smile. Maybe someday.