A/N1: Set between ep.6x18, "Tunnel Vision," and ep.6x19, "Rock and a Hard Place." Alexx is still the ME.
A/N2: I found this unfinished piece on an old hard drive and decided to rewrite parts of it. I'll start posting chapter by chapter as I finish reworking them.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 1
"Nat, grab the door, will ya?" Eric yelled from the kitchen.
"Yes, dear," the beautiful brunette sang sweetly—and sarcastically—back in Delko's direction. She laughed as he huffed in exaggerated insult.
"Just get the door."
On her way to answer Eric's front door, Natalia was momentarily distracted by someone screaming from the couch, "What the hell?" She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the sight of Valera standing over a scowling Ryan Wolfe and laughing in hysterics. She didn't want to know…
Nat was smiling again before she even made it to the threshold, because one more soft kick against the door told her exactly who was on the other side. After all, Maxine and Yelina were already here, and neither Horatio nor Tripp wore high heels… thank God.
With her contagious smile, Alexx Woods could put anyone in a good mood. "Hey honey," she greeted brightly before Natalia uttered a word. "Help a girl out," she said, holding out her arm so Nat could grab the plastic bag dangling from her fingertips. Between the grocery bags and the two pies Alexx was juggling, Natalia could tell the guys would not go hungry tonight.
When Eric heard the voices in the foyer, he kicked the oven shut with his foot and turned around to see who had arrived, balancing three cookie sheets full of hot wings and barbecued ribs in his hands. "Alexx!" he shouted. "I think we need a referee over here."
The woman laughed and rolled her eyes as she spied the ruckus in the living room. "You two are too old for that," Alexx called playfully to Wolfe and Valera. 'Momma Bear' had definitely arrived. She headed toward the Cuban man in the kitchen, hands held high. "I come bearing gifts," she said, setting her two pies on the island.
Natalia followed Alexx into the kitchen but quickly spun on her heel as she heard another knock sound at the door. Eric, who had turned to put the hot wings on top of the stove, didn't notice her action, and called mischievously, "Natalia, dear?"
"I'm on it, dear," Nat threw maliciously over her shoulder. "I swear to God, Delko, someday your wife…" Her rambling turned to muffled grumbling before she cheerfully greeted the newest arrivals.
Eric grinned at the sight of Frank and Horatio entering his apartment, also bearing gifts. As Horatio said his hellos, Frank stalked over to the kitchen and set three six packs of beer on the counter next to Eric. "What happened this time, Tripp?" he asked, amused.
"I don't want to talk about it," the burly Texan growled. Eric couldn't quite make out the man's next words, but they sounded awfully close to 'What kind of lousy, POS parents let their kids…'
He fought hard to suppress his grin as Frank continued to scowl, hands on hips. "What's the damage?"
"Psh," came the irritated reply. "Gotta replace the whole damn side panel. Missin' mirror, torn front bumper. I give up."
Ryan walked up in time to hear Frank's last words and clapped a hand on the man's shoulder. "H just filled us in. Tough break, man." Tripp frowned all the more at Wolfe's obvious enjoyment of his misfortunes.
"When's this game startin', anyway?" he groused, effectively steering the conversation away from his current automobile woes.
"Ten minutes. Food's ready, so everyone dig in," Eric announced loudly. Within seconds, he was surrounded by seven hungry people snatching beers and corn on the cob, fighting over the best ribs, and scooping healthy portions of potato salad onto their plates.
The group settled around the big screen with three minutes to spare before the first pitch. Nestling into her corner of the couch, Valera spotted Eric sitting in his oversized arm chair, alone. For a split second the DNA tech wondered why the sight struck her as odd, but then the obvious dawned on her. Delko never sat in that chair alone.
"Hey, Eric," Max called, realizing for the first time that one of their number had yet to arrive. "Where's Calleigh? She never misses your barbecues."
"She had to go out of town this weekend."
Wolfe studied his friend for a moment. Delko passed off his response with an Oscar-worthy performance of nonchalance, but Ryan had seen Calleigh yesterday as she left work, and her expression was anything but carefree.
"It must have been pretty important," he fished. "Cal shot out of the lab like a bat out of hell yesterday."
Eric nodded, keeping his eyes on the television. Ryan was too perceptive. "Yeah, um, I think she was running late for her flight." He cursed himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth, because everyone in the room knew that Calleigh Duquesne never ran late for anything, and now six pairs of curious eyes (and one pair of wise blue ones) were focused in his direction.
He pretended not to notice, and instead pointed at the TV with his beer bottle. "First pitch." Conversation closed.
The subject of Calleigh's mysterious absence might have been off the table, but that didn't keep anyone from scrutinizing Eric a little more closely. Their host had seemed like his normal self that afternoon, but upon further inspection his friends could see the hard set to his features. Something was clearly on his mind besides the first Yankees-Red Sox game of the season.
An hour later, the tension in Eric's shoulders had all but vanished. He was surrounded by his surrogate family, his stomach was full, the Yankees were up six to zero in the third inning, and he was a very happy man. Ryan, on the other hand, was growing increasingly vocal as his precious Sox struggled to match their rivals offensively.
"Damn it!" he cried as Damon cracked a double and scored another run.
"Schilling is having an off day, isn't he?" Horatio commented dryly. He was a Yankees man, himself, after spending so many years in New York.
Ryan's indignation flared. "Yeah, well, tell me how often that happens."
"Not very often," Yelina interrupted with a sly smile. "But that won't help them win this game, will it Mr. Wolfe?"
The room filled with laughter at the banter between the three colleagues, and as the game coverage paused for commercials, Alexx, Valera, and Frank joined the fray. Eric's living room soon turned into the scene of a raucous 'my team is better than yours' debate. By the time Valera chucked a pillow at Ryan, Eric was rolling in his chair and Natalia had tears in her eyes and a stitch in her side.
Trying to catch her breath, Nat leaned in to grab her glass of lemonade from the coffee table. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Eric's cell phone buzzing against the glass and stretched to reach it.
"Delko, your phone's ringing," she said absently, watching as the announcers reappeared on the screen.
"Just ignore it," he said, his attention also turning back to the game.
Natalia was about to toss his phone back to the table when she glanced down at the caller ID and had second thoughts.
"It's Calleigh," she commented and looked at Eric.
"Mm." He swallowed his mouthful of food and straightened up in his armchair, quickly realizing that his hands were covered in barbecue sauce. "Hit speakerphone," he instructed Natalia while he searched for a paper towel.
"¡Querida! You're missing a helluva game," Eric joked in greeting. "You're on speaker." He practically had to yell, because right as Nat answered the call, the living room erupted in cheers and a few groans. The Red Sox had finally managed to score.
"Eric?"
He'd just found a napkin and was in the process of wiping his fingers clean when he heard the hesitant voice come over the line. A voice that didn't belong to Calleigh.
"Duke?" he called.
The noise level in the room dropped instantly, and Delko was aware of Horatio's worried gaze boring into the side of his head. He met his brother-in-law's eyes with equal concern. This couldn't be good.
"Hang on a sec, Duke."
Eric swiftly scooped up his phone, switched off the speakerphone, and beat a hasty retreat to his bedroom. On his way down the hall, the group behind him heard two words: "What happened?"
Sitting side-by-side on the couch, Ryan and Natalia shared a confused look. "Do you know where Calleigh is?" Wolfe asked quietly. The strain in Delko's fading voice was reflected in the tight 'V' between Ryan's brows.
Nat shook her head. "Not a clue," she murmured, stealing a peek in Horatio's direction. Everyone else had seemed to return their attention to the game after Eric left, but H was currently sitting with his elbows on his knees, staring intently at the hardwood floor beneath his feet.
Back in his bedroom, Eric was listening to Kenwall Duquesne and pacing at the foot of his bed. His chest ached with the knowledge that all he could do was pace.
"What happened?" he had asked.
Duke sighed. "Caroline passed this afternoon."
"What?" Eric stood stunned. Calleigh left in a rush yesterday afternoon to go to Louisiana to see her mother. Caroline Remy Duquesne was driving to meet some friends for brunch when she took a turn too quickly and lost control of her car. In the battle of Mercedes versus Oak Tree, the tree had won.
Cal got the call from the hospital a little after lunchtime and she immediately contacted her dad, who was fortunately in New Orleans on business. Three hours later, he was in Darnell and calling Calleigh back with a favorable report on her mother's condition.
Despite the positive news, the blonde ballistics expert booked a last-minute flight to Louisiana. Horatio was all too willing to give his CSI the time off. After her kidnapping three weeks ago, the lieutenant nearly forced Calleigh to take a few days rest, but he saw the woman was determined to keep working and chose not to push the issue.
After talking to her boss, Calleigh tracked down her best friend. Besides Horatio, Eric was the only one who knew where she was this weekend. He'd given her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and asked her to call him if she needed anything.
The call came, instead, from her father. "She started bleeding this mornin,'" the man explained. He sounded exhausted. "They couldn't find the source, and she just…went."
Eric sank to the edge of his bed and dropped his head into his free hand. "How's Calleigh?"
Silence…
"Duke?" Eric repeated, apprehension billowing in his chest.
"That's, uh, why I'm callin'," Kenwall answered, taking a deep breath. His next words came out in a frantic rush. "I don't know what to do. Derek tried to talk to her and she spun around and laid him flat. Right in the middle of the hospital. Now she's off God-knows-where and J.J.'s out lookin' for her and… I don't know what to do.
"Thing is, Eric, she was jumpy to begin with, wouldn't let anybody touch her when she got here. So you tell me, what's goin' on with my Lambchop?"
A sick feeling grew in the pit of Eric's stomach to join the tightness in his chest. Calleigh obviously hadn't told her family about her kidnapping ordeal, and he was not the person to break that little piece of news. He'd observed her closely over the last few weeks, growing more and more worried as the circles darkened under her eyes and her clothes began to fit more loosely. Calleigh wasn't sleeping, wasn't eating, she jumped at sudden contact and was hyper-vigilant at crime scenes.
Eric wasn't the only one who noticed the changes in his best friend. Horatio watched her just as carefully, constantly debating his need to address the situation. He refrained from interfering, however, because Calleigh attended her department-mandated therapy sessions and Eric seemed to have things under control. Despite the signs of physical stress on her body, she seemed to be holding up remarkably well.
Until now. Eric feared this moment since the night he went home with Calleigh. He knew she was a ticking time-bomb, that something would eventually send her over the edge. He only prayed he could be there for her when it all became too much. God hadn't granted that particular request, but Eric recognized at least some divine mercy in that Duke had called him as soon as Calleigh was in distress.
"Sir, I—Calleigh is… " What, exactly, was he supposed to say? He settled for as much truth as he could give without betraying Calleigh's confidence. "Something did happen, Duke. About three weeks ago. But Cal needs to be the one to tell you. I'm sorry."
"Well my daughter's not speaking to anyone right now," Kenwall stated in frustration. "So you go on and tell me what happened."
Eric squeezed his temples, a headache fast approaching. "I can't, Duke. I wish I could. Calleigh…she hasn't talked much to anyone lately." He paused thoughtfully. "Can you hold on a second?"
"Sure." The reply was tired, defeated. Kenwall Duquesne knew he wasn't a perfect father; far from it. But he loved his daughter more than life itself, and he desperately wanted to know how to help her. He wanted to know why she was hiding, what she was hiding.
"Okay, be right back."
Eric pulled himself from the foot of his bed and toward the door of his bedroom, where he stuck his head out to capture Horatio's attention. When he caught his eye, Eric motioned with a jerk of his head for the man to come join him away from the rest of the party.
"Calleigh?" Horatio inquired gently.
Eric shook his head, his chocolate eyes stormy. "It's not good," he whispered. "I'll fill you in later. I—I need a few days, H."
"Take the week. Eric, Calleigh needs a break," he explained at the look of surprise on his companion's face, "and she will not take it unless someone makes her."
The younger man nodded at the truth in his boss's statement. Cal was stubborn—too stubborn. "Okay."
"I should have done it sooner," Horatio lamented quietly as he walked with Eric back toward the living room.
"She wouldn't have let you, H," Eric said. "You know that."
The redhead simply nodded and returned to his seat, too concerned for Calleigh to care about the curious looks around the room and too distracted to focus on the ball game, now in its fifth inning.
Eric never stopped moving, making a beeline for his laptop which sat on his desk on the far side of the living room.
"Duke, I'm back. Listen," he said, sinking into his desk chair and quickly bringing his computer to life. "I'll be on the next flight out. Call you back in fifteen with my schedule." Eric listened to the terse reply and hung up the phone.
Six heads had whipped in the CSI's direction. Delko was leaving? He knew more than he was letting on earlier about Calleigh's whereabouts, and why she was gone in the first place. Ryan had enough and lunged for the remote. He pressed mute.
"What's going on, Delko?" he demanded. "Where is Calleigh?"
Eric didn't turn around. He didn't move, didn't say anything at all. His mind was spinning with worry for Calleigh, and right now he didn't trust himself to answer Wolfe's question without his voice giving out on him.
Horatio saved him the trouble, and the group turned to him as he began to speak. "Calleigh's mother was in a car accident yesterday. She left for Louisiana right after work."
"Oh no," Natalia whispered. Alexx brought a hand up to cover her mouth in shock and Ryan pursed his lips against the sigh that rose in his throat.
Eric swiveled around in his chair and explained the rest. "Her mom died about an hour ago."
Horatio bowed his head. So that's what happened. He couldn't imagine what this was doing to Calleigh after everything she'd gone through in the last month.
"You guys finish the rest of the game," Eric insisted earnestly. "I've got to find a flight."
"We should go," Yelina commented softly. Always composed, Yelina was a constant source of calm in any situation, but even her steady spirit couldn't ease the gloom which had settled over the room.
They all felt for Calleigh. Besides Horatio, she was the glue that held their team together. Knowing she was in pain sent a pang of hurt through every single one of them. At least Eric could be there. She wouldn't want anyone else...
No one questioned Delko's need to be in Louisiana. They weren't blind to how he felt about his partner, or how she felt about him, although she was much better at hiding it than he was. What was strange was that Kenwall Duquesne had been the one to call Delko, not Calleigh. Even stranger was the uncharacteristic sense of urgency currently written on Eric's face. There was more to this story…
** For insight into the title and story, listen to the song "Held" by Natalie Grant. The lily of the valley has historically symbolized hope, redemption or a return to happiness, among other things.
"Held" lyrics below (Not mine! They belong to Urban Records, Christa Wells and Natalie Grant. Awaken album, 2005)
Two months is too little.
They let him go.
They had no sudden healing.
To think that providence would
Take a child from his mother while she prays
Is appalling.
Who told us we'd be rescued?
What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares?
We're asking why this happens
To us who have died to live?
It's unfair.
Chorus:
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.
This hand is bitterness.
We want to taste it, let the hatred numb our sorrow.
The wise hands opens slowly to lilies of the valley and tomorrow.
[Chorus:]
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.
Bridge:
If hope is born of suffering.
If this is only the beginning.
Can we not wait for one hour watching for our Savior?
[Chorus:]
This is what it means to be held.
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we'd be held.
This is what it is to be loved.
And to know, that the promise was when everything fell, we'd be held
This is what it means to be held.