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Title: Stormy Remembrances
Author: Carina Scott
Genre: Gen
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Rating: FRT
Word Count: 1,055
Summary: Eric remembers.
Author’s Note: Written a few years back, for a challenge over @ the MiamiFicTalk Yahoo Group.

~*~

Eric Delko sat alone in the dark confines of his living room; the power had gone out due to the thunderstorm raging outside. Three days ago Horatio Caine had sent him home on a paid leave of absence, citing concern for his well being as the reason behind his decision. More like a phone call from his mother. She had been hounding him to take some time off since the day he came back from Rio.

Two months ago he had lost his sister to a gunshot wound inflicted by Antonio Riaz. He might not have been the one to pull the trigger, but he had killed her just the same. After Riaz was killed, he and Horatio had returned to Miami. And Eric had been working almost nonstop since then. He couldn't face going home until he was too exhausted to think. Everything about his home reminded him of Marisol.

When he had first bought the condo a year ago, he hadn't thought about much in the way of decorating. To him his home was a classic bachelor's pad; colors and fabrics didn't matter. Marisol took one look at his home and that was the end of that. She bought drapes and pillows of beige and blue, telling him that his house was too sterile. Eric had laughed and said that it didn't matter to him; a house was for eating and sleeping. She had hit him on the arm and told him that if he ever wanted to get a woman to spend more than one night in his place, then he might want to let her decorate. Eric had caved in, although he stuck his tongue out at her for her comments about his relationships, or lack thereof. After two days and several stores, she was finally satisfied. Eric had never dared to tell her, but she had done a great job with his place; after her hard work his house felt like a real home.

Now, a year later, every time he returned home he felt like he was walking through an emotional minefield. Behind every pillow, drape, or plant was a trigger. He could be watching a game on TV, and his eyes would drift to a picture frame, and suddenly he would be on the verge of tears. Everything in his home reminded him of the sister he had lost. So in an act of self-preservation he had thrown himself into his work. And now, even that had been taken from him.

The first day of his leave he had been fine, Calleigh had taken pity on him, and he had spent most of his day at her apartment just hanging out. The next day he did the same thing, only this time it was Ryan that was playing devil's advocate. But now, on his third day of leave, it was raining cats and dogs outside, and he had no other recourse. He couldn't go to his parent's home, it was too hard to look in their eyes and see the pain that still existed there. He couldn't go to a bar to drown his sorrows because he knew Marisol wouldn't have approved if she were still alive. So the only other option was to go home and try not to think.

When he first got home, he was fine. He took a shower, ate a small dinner, grabbed a beer and turned on the TV. But he couldn't concentrate on the movie he had chosen, his mind constantly drifting back to a night not too long ago that he had spent with his sister. The day had been pretty gloomy, the sky was overcast, and it had been threatening to rain all day. Marisol had come by to spend the night, something that had become a monthly ritual since she was diagnosed with cancer. Initially Eric would stay with her throughout the night when she was too sick from chemo, but it had soon become a ritual of theirs even on those occasions were she was feeling better.

On that rainy night, after they had eaten dinner, the two were sitting in front of the television watching some movie that Marisol claimed she had been dying to see. They weren't paying attention to the movie, as they were too busy talking about things going on in their life and just basically catching up with each other. Eventually they both fell asleep on the couch, only to be awakened a few hours later by the clap of thunder. Eric could see that Marisol was shaking; she had always been terrified during thunderstorms. As children, Eric had teased her mercilessly because of it, but he had grown out of that habit long ago. So instead, he grabbed a blanket from the closet, sat next to her, and draped it across their laps. When the power went out, he put an arm around her and tried to soothe her by humming a lullaby that his mother used to sing to her when they were children. On nights like this it had been the only thing his mother could do to calm his sister down. Since the storm had just begun, Eric settled in for a long night.

But that was just a memory; he no longer had that privilege. Just like he couldn't tease his sister about her taste in movies or fuss at her about stealing his last spoon of ice cream; he couldn't comfort her in the midst of a storm. And he felt that he had no one else to blame. Marisol was his big sister, but he had always been protective of her. The one time she truly needed his protection, he had failed. And her death was the constant reminder of his failure.

Walking over to the window, Eric watched the rain fall in sheets onto the empty streets. Shivering in the coolness of the room, Eric wrapped his arms around himself trying to gain some warmth, barely holding on to his emotions. And as if it had been waiting for this opportunity, warmth he hadn't felt in too long wrapped around him, warming him to the core. As he slid to the floor, the constant tap of the rain outside his window transforming into the soothing hum of an ethereal lullaby; the tears finally came.

THE END