Title: Seven Virtues
Author: Lucy (somethingsdont)
Pairing: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: Post 10-7
Summary: After an untimely death, Eric and Calleigh's lives come colliding together.
Notes: Because I don't start enough WIPs I can't finish. Actually, this is something I've wanted to get down for a little while, but I never had enough concrete ideas about where to take it. Now I do (or at least I think I do), so here goes nothing. Hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter 1: Charity

As a general rule, Miami is unbearably hot in the summer. The scorching sun consistently beats down on the parched pavement, and the humidity creates a sticky sheen of perspiration that clings uncomfortably to clothes and skin. On the worst days, even breathing becomes difficult. Damp, heavy air that seems to weigh down the lungs leaves those unfortunate enough to breathe too much of it irritable and light-headed.

The crime lab is adequately air-conditioned, to be sure, making the temperature and humidity bearable, but sometimes, the suffocating feeling of soggy air originates from areas well outside of Mother Nature's control. This one, Eric Delko quickly realizes, has nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with an incredibly selfish decision by a desperate man driven to his limits by the violence he's witnessed and the rejection he's endured.

Eric, however, bears no sympathies for one John Hagen.

His own grudge becomes irrelevant the moment he sees Calleigh near the entrance of the ballistics lab, struggling to maintain a fearless front. As much as she probably hates that he can, he sees right through her defenses and the walls she's erected in a spiraling tower around her.

But he knows that there aren't really words appropriate for such an occasion. He'd learned plenty about how to speak to witnesses of crimes far more horrific than what Hagen had done to himself, but they'd all seemed practiced and insincere in his head, would no doubt be worse should they be spoken.

So he settles for something generic and most probably useless in every sense, and as he'd expected, she brushes him off, mumbling a string of excuses. Open cases. Work. She's going to bury herself in an avalanche of bullets to stave off the sting of what she'd witnessed. He knows it's not going to work, but he also knows better than to try stopping her when she's in her current state of mind.

She disappears, and he's so backed up with his own cases that he doesn't see her for the rest of the day. He figures it's probably best that he doesn't get the chance to worry about her in her presence, because knowing her and knowing him, that would make it worse. He notices that she's only caustic toward him, and he doesn't know if he should cherish her hostility. If Horatio worries, he'd probably receive a polite thank you. Ryan might get the same, perhaps with a short eye-roll. But around Eric, she sharpens her words, pushes him away and dismisses his concerns.

And he always takes it.

Maybe it's because he knows that in a twisted way, the more she pushes, the mores she cares. If she doesn't feel like she needs to push someone away, they probably aren't close enough. She doesn't see them as a threat to her invulnerability. Maintaining the appropriate distance with her is a trying and often impossible task, but he makes an attempt, even when he knows that lines and boundaries constantly blur between them.

He puts up with it because he cares about her and her well-being, her happiness, and even though it hurts him more than he'd ever admit when she acts cold toward him, he takes every inch he can get.

She doesn't give them too often.

The Hagen thing, it stumps him. He doesn't know what to do, but at the same time, he does. She needs time and space to heal, but he worries. Their relationship had been on rocky ground since Speed's untimely death, and though she shows glimpses of her former self, she's tougher to reach, and he can't imagine that Hagen's suicide will aid matters.

He decides to let it go for a little while. He doesn't want to push her, and as long as she knows that she can turn to him, he'll leave her alone.

He changes his mind when he notices the active duty board, her name conspicuously missing from the list.

-/-/-

"You took yourself off active duty," he blurts out as soon as she answers her door. It's not the opening he'd hoped for, but it catches her off guard.

"Just ballistics," she replies, her tone betraying nothing.

"Forever?"

Her fingers ball into a tight fist. "For as long as I need." A short pause. "Why are you here?"

"I brought you some ice cream," he explains, holding up the small tub of Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough that he'd picked up on his way over.

She eyes the container suspiciously. "Do you feel obligated to be here?"

He frowns. "No…"

"Then you should probably go home," she tells him, resignation lurking somewhere behind her detachment.

His frown deepens, a hint of confusion coloring his features. "Can I just come in?"

Her jaw clenches. "Eric, I don't know why you're here but—"

"I don't know, Calleigh," he interrupts in a hurry, frustration seeping through before he can stop himself. "Maybe because your ex-boyfriend offed himself in the middle of the ballistics lab using the gun he'd previously held to your head." He takes a deep breath, his eyes dropping to the floor in apology. He doesn't have to perceive the changes in her stance to recognize that he's making it worse.

"I think you should leave," she says quietly, clicking close the door before he has a chance to verbalize his regret.

He takes his ice cream home and tosses the melty container into his freezer. He watches the minutes tick by and wonders if it's already too late to repair the damage. He reaches for his phone and decides he has to try. He dials her number, not fully expecting her to answer, but she surprises him.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs when he hears her breathing on the other end.

"I know," she says in a whisper, her tiny voice nearly killing him. "I know."

He spends the next half-hour making small talk, conscientiously skirting around the Real Issue. She doesn't seem to mind, and he even manages to make her laugh a few times. A small victory, but one nonetheless, and he'll take whatever he can get, especially when he doesn't know where he stands with her anymore.

"I don't know if I can do this," she admits suddenly, a light quiver tingeing her accent. Even through the phone, he senses her despair, the fear at the pit of her stomach. "Don't say anything," she adds quickly, the plea nearly breaking his heart.

He complies. He listens to her breathing hard at the other end and waits for her to regain her footing.

"Horatio told me to take some time off," she reveals, voice still strained.

"You should do that," he urges gently, knowing that the last thing she needs is to be surrounded by Hagen's case and the ensuing investigation.

"No, I need to be working," she says resolutely, and he doesn't need to ask why. As much as she embraces being left alone to deal with her issues, he knows that demons love to prey on those in isolation. He has no doubt that she's experienced enough of that to realize the same conclusion.

"Spend tomorrow with me," he requests, knowing it's a long shot but hoping that her unwillingness to be alone trumps her pride.

She takes a moment to consider his proposal. "Okay," she finally relents with a deep breath. "But I don't really want to go anywhere…"

"That's okay," he assures her. "Why don't we just order a pizza and watch some TV?"

She hesitates. "Do you still have that ice cream?"

He chuckles. "Of course I'll bring your fix."

He imagines the faintest of smiles adorning her face.

-/-/-

As promised, the next day, he arrives at her door with the tub of ice cream. While she gets him a drink in the kitchen, he plants himself on her couch and begins looking through her Tivo, hoping to find a show without gun violence. She certainly doesn't need more of that.

"What are we watching?" Calleigh asks, settling down beside him. She hands him a beer and picks up the container of ice cream that he'd left on the coffee table.

He skims the list quickly, grateful when he locates a medical drama among the cop shows and documentaries. "House," he replies as he starts the episode.

She immediately embraces the concept of watching Hugh Laurie limp across the screen. If there's something dreamy about old, crippled doctors with a penchant for sarcasm and rudeness, Eric certainly cannot figure it out. But it keeps her in good spirits, so he doesn't complain.

She eats the ice cream directly out of the container, and though she hands him a spoon and motions for him to dig in, she's enjoying it so much that he doesn't want to take a single scoop away from her.

"The rest of his team is kind of useless," Calleigh announces, waving her spoon toward the television.

He doesn't reply, chooses to watch as her eyes followed the fictional characters on screen. He knows better than to assume that this is the end of it, of the agony and guilt she'll experience, but for the moment, he hangs on to her smile and stores it away as a future reminder of what he's fighting for.

The pair spends the entire day lounging around and watching House, eating pizza and dancing around the aftermath of Hagen's death. Before he knows it, she's yawning, and he knows it's time for him to leave.

At the door, he stops and pulls out a small pile of folded papers from the pocket of his shorts. He hands them to her, suddenly nervous.

"I, uh, I got you these airline tickets…"

She freezes in place, eyes boring holes through the sheets in her hands. "Why?" she manages to ask.

"I don't know." He scratches his head. "Look, just… take a short vacation, okay? Bring someone along and get away from it all for a week."

She frowns and tries to give the documents back. "Eric, I can take care of myself."

"Then go alone," he counters. "Come on, when's the last time you took a week off?"

She holds his gaze for a moment, and her curiosity gets the better of her as she takes a peek at the tickets. "Thunder Bay? That's where my brother Parker lives."

He nods. "I know."

Her eyes shoot up, surprise glazed across them. "How?"

"You told me once." He smiles and teasingly adds, "I couldn't remember if it was Tampa Bay or Thunder Bay…"

"That's over a thousand miles difference." She brushes a strand of hair away from her face. "It's not even the same country."

He shrugs. "I had a hunch."

"You went and spent one grand on a hunch?" she demands incredulously, eyes flickering back to the tickets.

He smiles and shakes his head. "No, Calleigh, I checked with your dad first," he explains. "Don't think about this," he urges quietly. "Just go spend some time with Parker and his family."

Without giving her a chance to retaliate, he ghosts a kiss across her forehead and leaves.

He's already in his car when she catches up to him, but he notices her and climbs back out. She stops dead in her tracks, and with three quiet words, she turns his world around.

"Come with me."