Title: Sunshine and Shadows
By: cassie_jamie
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Pairing: Calleigh/Megan
Rating: PG/PG-13
Warning: Character death.

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Her bed is surrounded by flowers, cards. Life. And I can barely find her beneath it all.

I'd come as quickly as she'd received word and even Speed, my beloved protégée who I had abandoned, was glad to see me when I showed up in the Crime Lab like I were an outcast. Timid as I knew I didn't belong. Horatio had driven me to the hospital, never said a word while we drove down streets and stretches of highway.

Until I moved to the doorknob, and he let out, "She's missed you." Then was gone like a lost spirit.

Pale skin, sickly-soft and once-healthy, lies testament to the tortured soul of the sweet southern belle. The yellow tinge over her features reminds me what I have inadvertently caused. She's wasted away to be nothing more than bones. This is not the girl I left behind; the strong, brave Calleigh Duquesne of the Miami-Dade PD.

"Megan?" It's croaked out, "That you?"

The once sparkling eyes, like the Caribbean waters, had become dull. Pained. "Yeah, honey. It's me." I lean over a pink teddy bear and kiss the dying, "So I hear you've been asking about me?"

A wishful, happy smile. My heart splits and shatters. "Eric said he'd found you in Las Vegas. You're working with Gil Grissom and his crew now."

"Three years next week." I try to keep my tears at bay, thinking of all the things I'd missed. All the pain I caused that I know, just *know*, she hid away waiting for me to come back.

And I didn't because I was a fucking coward.

"Is it sunny there?" She asks. I realize she's trying to avoid the inevitable conversation, yet I cannot bring myself to change the topic of my own accord.

"Not like Miami. The temperatures drop at night, sometimes below zero in the desert, but it's nice."

I know one of Calleigh's dreams was to `see the bright lights of Vegas'. Now she won't even get to see the sandy beaches of her adopted hometown or the sight of her house in Darnell again. She's too weak to be taken outside, let alone away from the last place she'll ever be.

She won't look at me, "You wouldn't take my calls."

There's no excuse, no answer I can give her in reply, but a simple, "I know."

"I tried to leave messages with Helen, but I guess you never got them. I wanted you to know in the beginning that way you could make plans to come for my funeral."

And I can't keep the tears back now, "Oh, Cal. I'm so sorry. Hel kept giving me the messages... I should've called you." My sobbing, and she lifts a hand, shaky, to weave fingers through my hair.

"You're here now."

"I shouldn't have left. I should've stayed with you."

<< I pack my bag, shoving everything into the black duffel while she stands there, bleary-eyed and silent. My toiletries get shoved between shoes and shirts and I know my shampoo must've popped open because there's a thick scent of mango permeating the air.

Finally her mouth opens, and she asks, "Please. Don't go. Stay here with me."

>> I didn't listen. And now we're all losing her.

"You did what you had to." Calleigh sniffs, her voice just a little melancholy, "I just regret that I didn't have the strength to wait for you to come back."

My own hand floats to her belly, and I remember the night she laughed when I ghosted over this one ticklish spot, actually heard her laugh... her *real* laugh... for the first time in my life. She was happy and content and languid that night, lying on blue satin- silk sheets in her queen-sized bed that smelled of flowers and the lab. We both were.

She's been reduced to a gurney with stark white sheets that smell of disinfectant. Not fit for her. Not for this perfect person.

We stay like that for a while in the silence. I can't stand to speak when I know there's nothing to say that can soothe either her or I; nothing that can change the last three years. Until I recall another memory, one where our dark conversation led to an ideal promise. I look up and see the sun is beginning to lower in the sky, and there's nothing like a Miami sunset.

"I'll be right back." I leave the room, and, reluctantly, her touch as well, to grab a wheelchair and make sure I can get a quick path to the elevator.

Somehow, I get back to her without anyone speaking to me. She smiles and I guess she realizes what I'm going to do.

With deft hands, the shaking gone from my body, I turn off all the machines and disconnect her from the sticky round electrodes and IV's attached to her skin. Still no one comes and I wonder if perhaps they're letting me do this for her. The sun is setting and I hurriedly wrap a blanket around Calleigh, before dashing for the elevator. A nurse calls out, "Don't run!" but the adrenaline is pumping and I don't want to stop.

Once in the elevator, the blonde giggles, "Oh, that was fun, Meg."

"Just don't tell Horatio. He'll kick my ass to kingdom come."

She laughs more, and my heart mends halfway. It re-shatters as the silver doors slide open to reveal the overrun lobby. We thread through the throng with little trouble, and end outside on the sidewalk beside the sliding glass doors. There's a bench, prickly splintered wood planks for a seat and I sit on the edge after I tuck her as close to the edge as I can.

Her head seems to instinctively find it's way to my shoulder, "They've been begging me to hang on for a transplant." She says, suddenly sober again, "But you know what? You're home. It's okay for me to go now."

Shocked, I flinch and watch as my hands fly to her face to make her look at me, "No, Cal."

"It's okay, Megan." And she smiles, "I had to wait. Needed to see you first." She nuzzles my palm with the last of her strength, slumps her shoulders, "I love you."

And her breath comes in gasps now.

-*-*-

"You took her out of her room?! Are you *fucking* insane?" Horatio seethes at me and I let him. Don't fight back at all. It's out of character enough for him to even be yelling, so I let him continue; let him release anger at me, "She was alright as long as she was in that bed!"

I finally break, "She's dying! I was trying to make her happy!"


"You mean since it's your fault she started drinking?" Tim whispers, locks gazes with me, "When she realized you weren't coming back, she went to her father's favorite place. The bartender had to call me at four in the morning to pick her up because she was causing problems. And every three, four days since."

I can't speak. I had known it was me, but to actually hear it from someone else, "She doesn't want to be in a hospital. We...uh...talked about it once. Calleigh said then that she wanted to be in her own bed with her friends." I sniff then turn my eyes to my feet, "We all know it's too late for anything to save her."

"There's always hope." Eric offers up.

"No. There isn't. I'm going to die and it will be soon." The blonde in the bed tells us, the mass congregated outside her room. I look around and see the doctors glaring daggers at us.

We apologize and drag our feet in to her, "Hey, sweetie." I find her hand again.

"Stop fighting, okay? I don't care where I am when it happens. I just don't want y'all to be fighting after I'm gone." Gently, she chokes back tears and I know they aren't for herself.

Silence before my cell phone rings and I don't need to pick up to know it's probably Gil calling on behalf of the entire team, "I'll be right back. I have to appease my boss. I'm sure you don't know what that's like." Winking, I turn and go into her bathroom.

Since leaving Miami for Vegas, I learned a bit of...disrespect for rule and don't follow them too terribly much, hence why this wretched piece of machinery is on. I dial out the number to hear the secretary's voice, "Las Vegas Crime Lab."

"Cindy, it's Megan."

"Hold on a sec. I'll transfer you to the nerd squad." The nickname of Brass's has become the title I always use.

"Hey, how you doing?" Nick's Texan accent. Reminds me of Cal's. I don't know how I'll be able to go back to work after this, "Catherine wants you to say hello to Calleigh." I know they're only trying to be nice, yet I can't stop the surge of anger that runs through me.

"At this point, Nicky, that would be thoroughly insulting. She's got so little time left..." The tone in my speech is wistful; I can't control my emotions anymore.

"Do you want someone to fly in?" He asks, and I know Sara, Catherine, and Warrick are all pointing to themselves and mouthing `Me!' right now.

I shake my head then remember he cannot see me, "No. I need to be here for her right now. By myself."

"Okay. Gris says to take whatever time you need. Your job's gonna be here when you get back."

"Tell him I said thanks." There's a knock on the bathroom door, which I've slid down, "I have to go. I'll call later." And I end the connection so he can't say anything that keeps me on the line any longer.

I return to her and I see why there was a knock.

Nothing in your life can prepare you for the shock, the fear.

"It's okay, Megan." She repeats the phrase from earlier, and I laugh bitterly at the irony of her trying to comfort me. I do the only thing I can do... climb into the bed with her. The various tubs and electrodes, with the exception of a few, have disappeared, giving me the space to hold her and still sit up a little.

I kiss her forehead, "I love you, Cal. I'm sorry that I did everything so fucking wrong. I'm sorry you're paying for my mistakes." I sob out, one hand insistently stroking her hair.

She looks up and puckers her lips and I kiss them because it'll make her happy, "You came back. That's all that matters to me now." She smiles like she used to.

Then she's gone, and I clutch the petite body tighter, wishing I could pour my own life into Calleigh, into her lips and voice. Because she deserved more than this.

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