It was late...very late when I finally made it back home...exhausted mentally and physically...completely drained and yet tomorrow I have to wake up for another day...another day full of God knows what!

I was definitely not prepared for how this day turned out, I think as I rest my back against the door, my hand running down my face. The nurses said I looked pale, they were concerned. I said I am fine...but I'm not. How can I be when Eric was almost killed! I sigh heavily not wanting to think about it just for a couple of minutes and I push myself to move. He was all I could think about since the moment I found out he was shot. I need to get out of these clothes and have a shower. I need to feel clean, for some reason I'm feeling dirty and apart from that, I need a coffee...no scratch that I need alcohol...beer, wine...anything.

I make my way into the bathroom, get out of my clothes and turn the water on. I have no idea for how long I stayed there just letting the water hit me. The water is hot and my skin has patches of red from the heat, but I don't care. I just need to try and wash away any remnants of today as much as I can.

I finish my shower, get dressed and make my way out into the kitchen. I open the fridge but I have no idea what I want to drink. People drink alcohol to celebrate or to drown their sorrows but I can't bring myself to have some alcohol. It feels like I'm doing something wrong so instead I just grab a bottle of water and take that to the couch.

I can't believe what has happened today! How could this have happened?

Hearing dispatch call that an officer was down and then finding out that it was Eric...I was always afraid of this especially after Speedle's death...and now it has happened and I don't know what to do. I am not prepared for this and I was certainly not prepared to see him lying in a hospital bed, knowing he could have been easily killed. It is a miracle that he wasn't. A bullet in his head! How is he still alive?! Thank God he is but the emotions...the sensations...the thoughts...my mind is racing miles an hour and I am starting to get a headache. Unshed tears are burning the back of my eyes and I am trying not to cry. I want to be strong for him but at the same time I really need to cry. I am at home, no one will know...I just need to get it out.

I stare in blank space as my thoughts drift to Eric again and I can see him lying in bed, with the bandage around his head, covering his wound. I wish I could stay there with him, somehow I am feeling like my place is there with him, holding his hand in mine, trying to give him the courage that I know he is going to need. He has been through so much these past two years. Between Speedle's death and then his sister getting sick, getting in trouble at work in the meantime and then his sister being shot to death...and now this.

'He is strong...he'll get through this...I know he will...he has to' I tell myself.

I can feel a tear stream down my cheek and I reach out to wipe it at first but I stop myself because I need to cry, because I need to let it out.

I think about that moment when I went at the crime scene and saw the pool of blood...his pool of blood at the exact spot where he was shot, and I swear I had to remember how to breathe as it hit me. I could see him lying there...almost dead...I close my eyes and more tears fall down. It was so hard being strong, being professional, not break down in front of Ryan and the other officers. I didn't want to talk about it because I knew that if I did, then I would not have been able to control myself, and I hate it when I lose control especially in front of otherd. I needed to be in control, I needed to find out who did this to him...who almost took him away from me...and when I did...when Ryan and I did and I found out, that he shot him so he could pay his car...I swear I wanted to pull out my own gun and put a bullet in his own head. The anger I felt at that moment...I wanted to kill him with my bare hands...but I couldn't. I needed to keep control and be professional...keep Ryan in check and maybe it is good that I am a control freak because for once it came handy. But the anger. The anger I felt at that moment...the anger I still feel...The anger is still stronger than the satisfaction of putting the creep behind bars. There were so many things I wanted to tell him, but I held back. At least he was not going to hurt anyone else, and hopefully Eric recovers.

How could someone just shoot at another person just to pay his debt? How could someone be that selfish and don't see anything wrong about it?

It wasn't a cold night but I needed to warm myself up, so I lay down on the couch, pulled my legs to myself and cover myself. I needed to feel warm...safe. There is just something about Eric being shot that has rattled me deeply. I feel like something has changed, like something has shifted and I can't understand what it is or what is happening. It is not just about Eric being shot, being on death's door. It is something deeper...much deeper...I can feel it. I am feeling things that I am not sure I ever felt before. Sure, I was rattled to my bones when Speedle was killed. It was a very difficult time, a very difficult situation to handle. I knew why he was killed before I tested his gun. I knew it was a malfunction because it had happened before and because I knew Tim, but facing Eric bandaged up, running the fragment from his bullet...the time seemed to drag forever until I got a match and with every second that passed, I felt like I was going to let him down, that it was going to be too little to follow on, and at the moment I really needed to get some answers. I can still hear Alexx's words ringing in my head 'He might not be the Eric we all know and love' . What do I do if that is true?

When he asked me for Marisol, it was like he had just slapped me so hard, that I wasn't sure what had happened and then it clicked. He was suffering from memory loss. I knew that after a trauma, that is something that can happen, that the body can shut down and fold that memory away to protect the person, but I was not expecting that. How was I supposed to tell him that his sister was dead after he had just woken up? I just couldn't. I wanted to keep talking to him, but he looked weak and he looked like he was in pain, so I asked him to rest, because I didn't want to see him in pain like that, and it was also the only way I could avoid answering that question. I wanted to protect him. I could have told him that I didn't know, but I didn't want to lie to him. We never did that and I was not going to start now, bullet or no bullet in his head.

I held his hand and watched him fall asleep and as I held his hand and my thumb stroked his hand, my eyes couldn't help but look at our joint hands. It felt warm, his skin a little rough...big palm and yet my hand seemed to fit just well in his. There was just something that I can't pin point exactly what it was apart from the hand of a man that felt good to hold, but it was like I was touching his hand for the first time which wasn't the case. We have always been a bit handsy. Always needed to touch some small part of each other whether it is an arm or a hip, so it wasn't the first time that there was this kind of contact, and yet it was doing something to me that I couldn't quite understand. Maybe it is just the fact that I almost lost him and everything that has happened today. I don't want to think about any feelings because now is not the time to analyze anything.

'They are doing everything they can' the nurse said. I swear my blood had gone cold as what she was insinuating hit me and then she clarified 'They have been trying to recessitate him for the last 11 minutes. If he doesn't respond in the next 5, they'll call it' she had said.

Call it? Call it! They were going to give up on him. I only had 5 minutes left to find out whether Eric was going to live or...I can't say it. I can't say the word. I let my head drop in the palms of my hands and I start crying. I just can't hold it in anymore. I cry and I want to hold him in my arms. I want to be there with him. I need to see him, even if bandaged and asleep. I just need to see with my own eyes that he is still alive. That he is hanging in there. I get up from the couch and make my way into the bedroom. I open the drawers and pull a pair of clean jogging pants and t-shirt, grab my things and run out of the house.

I don't know how long it took me to arrive at the hospital but it was like I had made the drive on autopilot because the next thing I know I am walking down the hospital corridor or rather running the hospital corridors. I stop out of his room and I look inside...and I can see he is asleep.

'Miss...what are you doing back here?' the nurse from earlier asks me.

I turned around to look at her 'I had to see that he is still alive' I tell her 'Can I go in? I will not wake him up I promise. I just need to make sure he is alive' I tell her. She hesitates at first but she can see that I was crying, that I am a complete wrack, so she nods 'Thank you' I tell her as I try to smile at her.

'He is very lucky to have you' she tells me.

I smile at her 'I'm the lucky one' I reply and without another word, I open the door slowly and make my way inside, careful not to make any noise and wake him up. I stop next to his bed and look at him. I glance at the monitors. I can see that the heartrate is good, that the monitors are beeping correctly, but somehow I can't believe it. I am relieved that they are but it is still a miracle in my eyes and in my head. God must have been with him on this one. Maybe he knows how much I need him. I look down at him and realize that he is still holding the rosary in his hand. I sit down next to him and place my hand on top of his.

'5 minutes' the nurse's voice is still echoing in my head. I have no idea how I did not faint when she said that. I swear I wanted to die at that moment because I didn't want to hear anyone telling me that he didn't make it, that it was over. I don't know what I would have done. Silent tears started streaming down my face again as I look at my hand on his.

'I don't know what I would have done' I say in a whisper 'I can't lose you Eric...I just can't. I don't know what I would do without you. I don't want to find out' I say shaking my head as tears keep falling down.

'Cal' I hear him whisper and I look up in shock as I turn to look at him. His thumb is caressing my hand 'You're...crying' he say.

'I'm sorry' I apologize 'I didn't mean to wake you up' I tell him.

'It's okay' he tells me. He knows. He knows how much this has rattled me just like I know that if something ever happens to me, he would be shaken to his core. We have this bond. We always have. There is just something between the two of us... 'Come' he tells me.

I turn to look around to check if anyone is checking on me, and when I see that it is just us, no one else is there I turn to look at him and I slowly and very carefully not to hit his leg, climb on the bed and lie down, my head on his chest, my arm wrapped around him. His hand is on my arm and I close my eyes and let myself melt into him.

'You scared me' I say not sure if he could hear me or not until I hear him say 'Sorry'.

'Sleep Eric. You need to rest' I tell him.

'Stay' he whispered and I smile.

'Not going anywhere' I tell him. Maybe I shouldn't promise, maybe I shouldn't even be here much less spend the night in his arms, but I can't bring myself to go home. I need to be here with him, for him.

He must have fallen asleep then because I could hear him snore lightly, his chest moving up and down softly underneath my head, and I sigh, enjoying the feeling of his chest rise and fall. It means he is alive, and that is what I needed. I needed to see, to feel that he is alive.

My mind drift to the parking lot, knowing how the cars had been placed, where he was when he was hit, I wondered where Horatio was, how he couldn't have prevented this from happening. A part of me is angry at Horatio for letting Eric get hurt like this. I want answers, I wanted him to explain to me, to apologize to me for letting Eric get hurt on his clock, apologize to me for putting me through this nightmare, but then I saw him and I could see how destroyed he was and I couldn't bring myself to say anything. He has lost a lot in his life, and deep down I know that if he could have protected Eric, he would have, but the anger still remains, and even the questions. Specifically a particular question. Why did Speedle die when he was with him? Why did Eric get injured when he was with him? One died and the other one was on the verge of doing so while they were with him. Why? Doesn't he protect them? Would the outcome have been different if I was there? Would I have been able to protect Eric if I was with him? So many questions. Questions that will always be unanswered.

A yawn escape my mouth and I suddenly feel like I am drained. I don't have any energy left after this exhausting day. I am tired physically and mentally, so I close my eyes and let myself drift to sleep in his arms, and maybe just maybe, the nurses will let me stay. Maybe just maybe, being in his arms, the nightmares will stay away.