A/N: I finally found a fitting ending for this piece (I think-endings are always the hardest for me). So here it is, the last chapter and a bit of an epilogue. Thanks to all of you that stuck with it through the long silence between updates, and to anyone else reading!

Despite Calleigh's suggestion, Eric did not call his psychologist in the days that followed. His regularly scheduled appointment was in just a couple of weeks, and he didn't like the feeling of dependency that came with a supplemental visit. For several days Eric didn't even think he had a problem, anyway—it was Calleigh and Shauna that had wronged him, that had treated him so poorly. He'd lie in bed at night and seethe at the remembrance of the way Calleigh had automatically blamed his bad day on Speed's death, had so coldly thrown his grief in his face. He burned at Shauna's pity for him, unwilling to go with him to the cemetery until she realized he'd done her a favor that needed repaying.

Then he began to look at the situation from the other side.

One night, his body draped diagonally across his bed with his pillow clasped to his chest, Eric's mind drew upon his years of training and shifted from angry victim to objective CSI. He heard the cheer in Calleigh's voice when she'd entered the Print Lab, saw the concern hidden in her green eyes when she saw for herself that the whispers about his behavior that day were true.

"She came in to check on me," he muttered in the dark, shaking his head. "She came to check on me."

He pulled the pillow up over his face, groaning in shame as understanding dawned. She only snapped at me when I accused her of not knowing me…which of course she does, better than I do myself sometimes.

Another image popped up in his head: the disappointment and distress written on Shauna's face when he turned on her in her own kitchen. All she was trying to do was help. Just like she always does.

Eric groaned again, rolling onto his stomach and burying his dark head in his arms. "I'm an idiot."

And I have to fix this.

ooo

It was easy enough to find a private moment with Calleigh: he took her aside at a crime scene the very next day and apologized awkwardly but with his whole heart. She had looked into his eyes, reading his thoughts and the sincerity in his voice the way she always did, and given him a small nod. We're okay.

Shauna had been harder to pin down. He tried calling her a few times, but with her contrary schedule he never got through to more than her voicemail. She didn't call back, either, and he couldn't decide if she was too angry to speak to him or giving him the space she thought he needed.

Either way, he decided to take a more proactive approach, driving over to her apartment and pulling into an empty spot in the parking lot. He felt a little bit like a stalker waiting there for her to come home, but if she wasn't going to return his calls he didn't see an alternative. He spent the next twenty minutes tapping his fingers against the steering wheel and fidgeting with the radio, rehearsing what he'd stay to Shauna when he saw her.

He was in the middle of a heartfelt apology when she pulled into the parking lot and climbed out of her truck, heading up the stairs to her apartment without even a cursory glance around. She let out a surprised screech when he laid a hand on her shoulder as she slid her key into her lock.

"Eric! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry," he replied contritely. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

She took a deep breath and willed her pulse to slow, turning back to the key in the lock and swinging open the door, greeting an exuberant Frankie with pats and scratches. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," he said simply, "and you haven't called me back."

The big dog saw his wrestling partner and rushed forward, halted from dashing out of the apartment by a quick command from Shauna. "Want to take a walk?" she asked Eric. When he nodded she allowed him inside while she put down her purse and grabbed Frankie's leash. The Great Dane did his usually happy dance by the door, then dropped into a sit to await his mistress. Eric stood by and couldn't help smiling, watching the long tongue loll out of Frankie's mouth until he snapped to attention.

Once Shauna had her pet leashed and her keys in her pocket, the three of them set off. Eric was careful not to walk too close to her, but elected not to keep too much distance between them either. "I'm sorry," he started.

Shauna gave him an appraising look similar to the one Calleigh had turned on him and nodded. "I know."

"You were just trying to help," he continued, inching closer to her as they strolled along. "Suggesting I go to the cemetery with someone who knew Speed is actually pretty logical, but all I heard was 'no I won't go with you'. Which, of course, isn't what you said."

She kept silent for a long moment, watching Frankie sniff his way around a big palm tree. "I'm sorry, too," she replied, lifting her eyes to his. "I've been busy—you know what my schedule's like—but I had time to call you….I just didn't."

"Were you avoiding me?" he asked quietly.

Frankie tugged on the leash and Shauna's attention reverted back to the dog. Sighing softly, she nodded again. "I was. I know in my head why you reacted the way you did, but my heart didn't quite understand."

He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. "Shauna…"

"No, it's okay. My heart's figuring it out." Her gaze met his and she smiled. "And you have clearly seen the error of your ways."

They walked in companionable quiet for a time, holding hands, watching Frankie flush out small birds from bushes and wag his tail at passersby. When they returned to Shauna's door she unclipped the dog's leash and watched him bound across the apartment to his water bowl, gesturing Eric inside.

"If you still want me to go with you to the cemetery, I will," she told him, running a hand over his shoulder.

"After everything I said to you, you'd still go with me?"

She looked at him in surprise. "You're my friend."

"A very good friend." He pulled her into a spontaneous hug and kissed her hair, grinning when she slid her arms around him and squeezed in response. He kissed her cheek when he released her and shook his head. "I'm actually going with Horatio."

"Good." Her face flooded with relief. "Then I won't worry about you so much. But if you want some company afterwards…"

"Saturday," he responded, his grateful eyes meeting hers.

She smiled a small smile. "Then I'll see you Saturday."

000

Saturday evening found Eric at Shauna's door, his misery clearly defined in lines of his face. She slipped an arm around him and ushered him into her living room, feeling the tension in his body and wondering anxiously how close he was to his breaking point. A second knock on her door coupled with Frankie's barking delayed her answer, and she threw Eric an apologetic look as she hurried to get rid of whoever was calling.

Luckily it was only a neighbor dropping off some of her mail mistakenly delivered to him. A few quick steps brought her back to her living room where Eric was standing, staring out the window, his brown eyes shining with unshed tears. Gesturing to the dog to lay down, Shauna padded quietly over to her friend and laid a hand on his back.

He squeezed his eyes shut at her touch, willing himself to keep it together. But when her fingers began tracing soft circles over his taut muscles his composure splintered, and the tears began to slide down his cheeks. He felt the pressure on his back change, felt Shauna rubbing gentle lines with the palm of her hand, and the splinters began to disintegrate. He was desperately trying not to break down completely in front of her, frantic to maintain some of his pride.

When she kissed his shoulder, let her cheek rest against him in silent sympathy, he damned his pride, let go of his ego, and accepted her consolation. Turning into her arms, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and wept.