A Burden Shared

Chapter 2: A Burden Eased

by BookwormDragon

Disclaimer: Neither the CSI: Miami Universe nor any of the Characters in the CSI: Miami Universe belongs to me. No profit is made from this story on my part. No copyright infringement is intended.

Warning: Possible spoilers for Season 4 episodes "Nailed", "Shattered", and "The Score".

As they pulled up in front of Ryan's place, Eric's courage almost deserted him. He and Ryan hadn't been getting on well recently, and, despite what he had said at the hospital, the man probably hated him now. But the memory of Ryan's screams spurred him on; Calleigh was right, he deserved to know just why Eric hadn't been there to watch his back.

"Thanks for the ride, Eric."

"No problem, man. It's the least I could do." Eric took a deep breath and rushed on before he could chicken out. "Listen, can I come in for a few minutes? I need to talk to you."

"Eric, I told you, there's no need to keep apologizing. It was as much my own fault as anyone else's."

"No, it's not about that. Well, not exactly. Look, can we talk about this inside? You need to get comfortable, take your painkillers - your head must be killing you."

"You have no idea. I'm thinking that a bullet to the brain is about the only thing that will help! It's just so creepy; it feels like the nail is still in there. Alexx and the ER doctor both said that the sensation will fade, but it's driving me nuts! Still, it's not like this day can get any worse, I guess. Alright, come on in."

"Thanks, man. I'll try not to take too long. Hey, you weren't serious about the bullet, were you? Do I need to confiscate your weapon?"

"No, Delko, it was a joke. I'm not going to shoot myself with my own gun, I promise. Seriously, your sense of humor could use some work, it's been non-existent recently."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Guess I haven't really felt like laughing lately."

They reached Ryan's door, and he fumbled with his key, trying to get it into the lock but missing. Barely being able to see out of one eye was really messing with his depth perception.

"Here, let me do it." Eric reached out and plucked the key from Ryan's hand before he had the chance to object. Unlocking the door, he gently guided his host into the cool dimness of the hallway, nudging him past the living room and kitchen, toward the bedrooms.

"Why don't you go get comfortable? I'll get some water for you and read up on your prescriptions."

"Alright, thanks, I don't think I'm up to reading that tiny print right now."

"Sure. Do you feel like eating something? Maybe some soup or toast?"

"Not unless I have to for the medication."

"Ok, I'll see what I can find. Shoo."

"Shoo?! You're a bit of a mother hen, aren't you, Delko?"

"I've had lots of practice. Go on man, you look like hell."

"I'm going, I'm going."

Listening to the sounds of Ryan's slow progress, Eric read up on the prescriptions and then poked around the kitchen. He didn't have much trouble finding anything, because the whole place was absolutely spotless and ruthlessly organized. Pulling a saucepan off the rack, he decided that a nice brothy soup would be perfect: no chewing. He hadn't missed the way that Ryan tried to avoid moving his jaw - the muscles of the face were all connected to each other and chewing would probably be painful for a while. Sorting through the cupboards and frig, he found enough ingredients to make a light but tasty soup, and got it started. This was something that he had plenty of experience with: even with the munchies that the marijuana caused, Marisol's appetite was delicate and needed lots of encouragement and babying.

He heard the shower turn on and frowned, was Ryan even up to that yet?

Heading down the hall, he stopped in front of what had to be the bathroom door and knocked.

"Ryan?"

"What?"

"Are you sure you're up to taking a shower yet? Did the doctor say it was ok?"

"Delko, I can't stand my own filth for one more minute: it's driving me insane. I have to take a shower or I'll never be able to relax." Ryan sounded resigned but determined. "I'll be careful, but I don't really have a choice here."

"Well, at least leave the door unlocked so I don't have to kick it down if something happens."

"You really are a mother hen. Fine. Now go away, please."

"Right, be careful and don't take too long."

"Delko!"

"I'm going, I'm going!"

~*~

Twenty minutes later, Eric was pouring the soup into heavy mugs when he heard the bathroom door open.

"I thought I said I wasn't hungry."

"Well, the antibiotic says otherwise: you're supposed to take it with food."

"Crap. Just the thought of food makes me want to puke."

"Well, give my cooking a chance first, man. I make a mean soup, if I do say so myself. Why don't you head on into the living room and get comfortable? The pills and water are already out there, and I'll bring the soup out in a minute."

"What time is it, anyway?"

"Nearly 8."

"Almost time to take the rest of my pills. Let me grab them from the bathroom and then I'll give your soup a try."

~*~

Fifteen minutes later, Eric was fiddling with his own mug while Ryan finished off the rest of his soup. The pain meds were already kicking in, he could tell. Ryan's posture had relaxed considerably, and he no longer looked like death warmed over.

"Ok, so your soup was better than I expected. Who would have guessed that Eric Delko could cook something that doesn't come in a cardboard tray?"

"Hey! I'm more than just a pretty face!" Eric laughed, setting his mug down on the coffee table, stalling for time.

"Apparently so! Alright, you've fed and fussed over me, now what did you need to talk to me about?"

"Umm..." Eric swallowed, shifting nervously on the couch. "Ummm, well, I'm not exactly sure how to say this. I haven't really told anyone yet, except Calleigh, and that was by accident. I know I've been a jerk lately, and I'm sorry, none of you deserve that. I'm, it's...well, it's just that you're a safe target. I knew you guys could take it - I guess I'm not dealing with it very well. Not sure how anyone could deal with it well. But you always give back as good as you get, and I can't take it out on her; I have to be calm and strong for her. I just, everything is falling apart and I don't, I don't know how to make it right. I can't fix it, can't fight it, can't catch the bad guy. I don't know what - "

"Eric," Ryan interrupted gently. "Eric, slow down, breathe - you're rambling. Don't worry about saying it right, just spit it out. What are you trying to tell me?"

"I - It's my sister, Marisol. She has cancer and she's dying! I can't fix it! My sister's dying and I can't stop it! I don't know what to do, she's going to die and I don't know what to do! This isn't supposed to happen, she's so young, she's not ready to die, what am I going to do?" Voice cracking, Eric couldn't hold back the tears any longer: burying his face in his hands, he finally let them fall.

Dimly, he heard Ryan getting up, but he was still surprised when the man sat down next to him on the sofa and put his arm across his shoulders. For a minute he resisted, but then he gave in, letting Ryan rearrange him until he was resting on the other man's shoulder, crying into his shirt. Yet another shirt turned into a handkerchief, he thought hysterically. Today wasn't a good day for his friends' wardrobes!

Eric expected that having a man cry all over him like a baby would freak Ryan out, but his friend was surprisingly patient, just holding him and petting his head with his free hand, letting him cry it out.

It felt good. Good to finally cry, to be weak, to let his pain really show. In the past few months, he had been pushing everyone away, afraid to let anyone close, and it felt so nice to be held by someone who cared, someone who knew him - not some stranger looking for a night of anonymous sex, but a friend. Naturally, he would prefer to do it without the crying-like-a-baby part, but apparently his body disagreed, taking advantage of his lack of control to have its own way for once.

Of course, once he had cried himself out and started to calm down, the awkwardness of the whole situation made itself apparent. He was being held by his male co-worker, who had just been shot in the eye because of him, and he had just finished ruining said co-worker's shirt by crying all over him.

Great! Way to be man, Eric. Now he probably thinks you're a pathetic wimp as well as a lazy bastard and an all-around jerk. Just great.

Drawing a deep breath, he pulled back, feeling a strange disappointment when Ryan let him go. He felt raw and distant, his face was sore, his eyes burned, and everything was blurry and unfocused. Blinking, he managed to focus properly, only to see Ryan looking at him with concern.

That's going to be quite a shiner, he thought, distracted for a moment by Ryan's injury.

"Hey." There was no disgust in Ryan's voice, just worry and understanding. "Why don't you go wash your face? The bathroom's down the hall, past the guestroom."

~*~

When Eric came back from washing his face, he was tempted to just keep going - right out the front door to the car. But Ryan was there, blocking his path and holding out a mug of...hot chocolate?

Then he was back on the couch, with Ryan next to him, sipping the hot chocolate and wishing that the floor would open up and swallow him.

"Listen, Ryan, I'm really sorry about breaking down on you like that. I didn't mean to."

"You don't need to apologize, Eric. Everyone needs a good cry occasionally. Feeling better now?"

"Actually, yes. Calleigh was right, telling people really does help."

"I'm so sorry about your sister, man. If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know, ok?"

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"I mean it, Eric. Let me help. If you need me to cover for you at work, I can do that, or whatever you need."

"I'll probably be taking you up on that."

The two men sat in silence for a moment, neither sure what to say next.

"Is that what the wrapping papers were for?"

"What?"

"The wrapping papers in your kit the other day. Your sister is using pot to ease the pain and suppress the nausea, right?"

"Yeah."

"You need to be more careful. Stetler was all over those papers, getting caught with illegal drugs could end your career."

"I know, but what am I supposed to do? Watch my sister suffer?"

"Just be careful, ok? I like working with you, and I don't want to see you lose your job."

"Now who's the mother hen?"

"Yeah, yeah. I look out for my friends, even when they've been acting like jerks."

"Funny."

"I know. Have you told Horatio?"

"Not yet. He said we'd talk later, so I expect to get chewed out in the morning for missing my callout and not being there to back you up. I guess I'll tell him then."

"I meant what I said, Eric, it wasn't your fault."

"Well, I appreciate that, but I should have been there and we both know it."

"What's done is done."

"Yeah. Hey, look, I'm going to stop by on my way to work tomorrow, make sure you're ok. Some of the others will probably do the same when they can. Did the Doc say when you can come back to work?"

"About 3 weeks, maybe less if everything goes well. And I can look after myself; you don't need to check up on me."

"It's what friends do. Humor me, alright?"

"Fine, fine, if you insist."

"I do insist. Do you have a spare key that I can borrow? That way I don't have to wake you up if you're asleep."

"Next thing I know, you'll be moving in. Sheesh! Horatio has my spare, tell him I said you could borrow it."

"Thanks, man."

"You always get your way, don't you, Delko?"

"People just can't resist my charm, I guess."

"Charm? More like a bulldozer!"

"Whatever works, man, whatever works!"

~*~

Eric couldn't stop grinning as he got into his car and headed home. He was tired and he had a headache, but he felt so much lighter now, not crushed under the weight of a terrible secret. His sister was still sick, still dying, but he didn't have to deal with it alone anymore. And he had made things right with Ryan; they were even friends now, real friends.

Now he just had to tell Horatio.