Candor

Gift

Wed, 16 Jan 2008 12:22:20 GMT

A gift to oneself to find friends. Reaching out again and again, I have failed to catch someone's fingers. Sometimes, I have caressed somebody's skin, and then they have slipped away, whilst connecting with someone else.

Then, just as I was giving up, just as the winter cold finally froze my blood and crept, numbing even the limbs that still stretched, desperate - I connected with fingers that curled around mine own. Joy, though tentative, glad to remember that there was but still someone whose fingers are still connected with mine.

God bless, for there is still union between all creatures.

Drawn Out: Chapter 2

Fri, 11 Jan 2008 06:21:55 GMT

Title: Drawn Out
Writer: Aphena
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Category: AU (sort of), romance
Pairing: Eric/Ryan
Rating: R (just in case) PG-13 in this chapter.
Warning: No Spoilers
Summary: Ryan is lonely, and carries a secret talent for art. What happens when a sudden incident brings this to the team's attentions?
Disclaimer: Do not own CSI: Miami.

With dedication to </a></b></a>orianaborealis

DRAWN OUT

Chapter 2

He climbed into his car and started driving. He hated going to work these days – not because of the work itself, but because of the people. People that he had come to admire, people that he had come to respect.

He put on a CD, trying to distract his thoughts, soon humming along to a song, Sunday Morning by Maroon5.

“Sunday morning rain is falling…” he sang. He smiled, not noticing the truck wheeling towards him until it was beside him. Yanking the steering wheel hard, Ryan shouted, just as he was knocked by the window and the air bag took effect. Vision spinning, he braked gently.

Carefully he extracted himself from the hummer, running towards the wreckage of the other truck. Hurriedly he opened the driver’s door, dragging the driver out, patrol cars soon coming to rest beside them.

“Ryan! Ryan, are you alright?” Ryan turned around, and smiled as he saw one of his old colleagues walking over.

“Willis! Hey, man, what’s up?” Willis gasped, as he caught a glimpse of the bruise already forming on Ryan’s head.

“You should get that checked out!”

“I will, as soon as I get to work.” He moaned, as he looked at the hummer. “Oh, man, that’s gonna take ages to fix up!”

Willis sighed fondly. “I’ll give you a ride in my car.”

“You’re late, Wolfe.” Eric spoke coldly, eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry, I was held up by a –” Eric snarled.

“That’s no excuse, Wolfe,” he snapped, turning away.

Ryan sighed. He didn’t know why he bothered – the team treated every reason as if it were an excuse, and an unreasonable illogical one at that.

“Well you shouldn’t have been late.” Ryan sighed yet again, then knelt onto the ground, hissing a little in pain as he did so.

“Mr. Wolfe, is there a problem?” asked a familiar, professional voice from nearby.

“N-nothing,” Ryan stuttered, holding in the pain that sounded through his skull. “I’ll go get the DNA results from Maxine.” He turned around heading to the DNA lab, where Maxine greeted him with a smile. She was the only one who did so – he had stood by her side when the officers had questioned her procedures. He had known what it had felt like, had offered her support. Now she was a friend, when no one else would be, just as he had been one to her.

“Hey, Ryan, what’s the matter?” Maxine asked. “You look terrible!”

“I…I got into a car crash,” Ryan said sheepishly.

“What?!” Maxine exclaimed. Hurriedly, she sat him down into a chair, just as Eric and Horatio rushed in. “Are you alright? Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Well, I tried,” Ryan said, trying not to wince at the pain. He sighed. “Never mind, I need to get those results for Eric and Horatio.”

“We’re here. What happened?” Horatio asked, facing Maxine. Maxine stopped the sigh that threatened to come out as she noticed the flinch that Ryan had been trying to hide come out. She wished her co-workers would only see what type of person her friend was – but they were blind, like she once was.

“Ryan got into a…”

She let out a scream as Ryan started keeling over.

“Oh my…!”

Horatio, startled, promptly knelt down to take the younger CSI’s pulse. “He’s still here. What happened?” he asked sharply.

“He got into a car crash. I think he’s got a concussion!”

“Why on earth didn’t you tell me that you had a concussion?” Eric said, frowning. The rest of the team, off shift, had gathered into the hospital room where Ryan had rapidly been placed.

I tried. Ryan opened his mouth to convey his sentiment. Then he closed it, and sighed. “Suffice to say that we were busy.”

“Ryan! Ryan, are you alright?” Eric stepped aside as a pretty young woman headed towards Ryan’s bed.

“Willis called to tell me what happened,” she explained, pulling up the covers around him. “Have you had your x-rays done yet?”

Ryan nodded, just as another young man entered the room, a smirk on his face. “Are you stealing my woman, youngster?”

Ryan mock-growled. “She’s mine.” Then he pouted. “And I’m not a youngster.”

“You are,” Jack counter-argued. “You’re three months younger than Annie.”

The team laughed, caught by surprise when Ryan laughed along with them. They hadn’t really heard him laugh before.

“The kids sent this,” Annie said, smiling, holding out a rainbow-frosted cupcake. It had a huge smiley face made with chocolate chips and was vastly over-decorated but Ryan smiled.

“And this,” Jack said wryly, holding out the huge cardboard card painstakingly decorated with green tissue paper. Ryan laughed, holding his hands out and grinning as he peeped inside to view the crazy squiggles hidden within.

“You have kids?” Alexx asked, looking scandalized.

“No, these are the ones I see when I go to the orphanage that Jack and Annie run.” Ryan paused. “I teach there.”

January 2008 Prompt: Teach

Fri, 11 Jan 2008 06:20:08 GMT

Title: Tinkiling
Author: aphena
Rating: PG at the most!

January Prompt: Teach

Tinkiling

Ryan looked around, completely bored. The annual Christmas party for the MDPD was always like this – people dressed up, stiff, mannered, pretending to like each other. He wished he could escape, but knew that Alexx would only scold him for it the next morning.

He yawned, then heard another yawn beside him. Startled, he turned around, only to see a young girl beside him, one of the many that were sitting down with nothing to do. “Hello,” he said, to her.

She started, then turned towards him, tensing into a rigid pose. “Hello,” she answered back stiffly.

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m not one of those other stuffy coots out there,” he said. “Are you bored as I am?”

She brightened at the prospect of finding sympathy in someone else. “Yes! My name’s Jamie,” she added blithely, “what’s yours?”

“Ryan,” he said, grinning down at her. “Aren’t your parents around here? They should be taking you home soon.”

She pulled a face. “They aren’t going to be going home until later-later,” she said matter-of-factly. She pouted. “It’s always like this.”

He laughed, then set his glass down on the table nearest him. “How about you play a game with me then?” he asked the young child.

“Oh, yes! Yes!” she said, leaping up excitedly. Ryan stifled a chuckle, then knelt and took her hand.

“Come on then! Quickly!” he whispered. Giggling, they made their way out of the hall, not noticing the eyes that followed them.

They ran through the corridors, Ryan making an exaggerated show of checking behind doors.

“Here! Here” she said to him finally, pointing to a room. He let himself get hauled in, then took a look around. Only a small corner was left in construction, and there were four semi-long beams up against the wall.

“Okay,” she said, sitting in a chair and crossing her legs in a remarkable imitation of the stuffy chits next door. “Now teach me!” she said, mock-pompously.

“Teach her what?” They turned around, only to see a group of children peeking in at the door.

“A dance. A Philippine dance called Tinkiling.”

“Eew!” One of the boys said, screwing up his face. “I don’t want to dance! You have to hold hands with girls!”

Ryan grinned. “Not with this dance. This one’s like hopscotch. No hand holding.”

“Oh that’s fine then,” said the rest of them. They all started wandering in. “What do we do?”

“Well,” Ryan began, taking off his jacket and unbuttoning a few buttons – it was hot in this room – “I need four of you to clack these sticks together while the others jump in and out of them.”

“What?!” Ryan smiled, half-sighing in resignation. It would take a while…

ivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivk

An hour and a half later the children had almost got it down-pat, and Ryan was only clapping out the rhythm at the crossing of the beams.

“Okay now, one-two-three, one-two-three,” he said, doing the moves along with him.

Suddenly, he felt a hand catch his wrist, and then his fingers, turning him. Absolutely surprised, he found himself looking up at familiar dark brown eyes.

“Eric!” he exclaimed, “What are you doing here?” he asked, unconsciously twining his fingers with his colleague.

“Yuck, they’re holding hands!” one boy squeaked, with a slightly squicked-out face. Eric and Ryan watched them, both a little nervous.

“That’s alright. They’re guys,” one boy mentioned wisely, and all the boys looked contemplative.

“True,” the first one commented, “that’s alright then.” Eric and Ryan snickered, surprised and relieved, before Ryan turned back to Eric again.

“So, what are you doing here?”

“Checking out where you went, duh.” He looked at the group gathered there. “Are you going to let them perform that? Because it looks quite good.”

“Maybe,” Ryan said, smiling.

“You should,” came a voice behind their backs. Ryan turned, starting a little.

“Alexx!”

“Where did you learn that?” she asked, amused.

He scratched his head with embarrassment. “Uh, in university. The anthropology department said they’d give extra credit and I wanted to get into one of the honours classes.”

Alexx nodded. “Well, wherever you got it from young man, you’ve got the kids doing it quite well. You should let them perform it in the ballroom – would provide a change of pace.”

“The parents would love to see it too you know,” Eric added trying not to stare at Ryan. He was getting slightly distracted by the flush that was on Ryan’s cheeks, the few buttons unbuttoned on his shirt, the tie that was loosened at his neck…

Ryan shrugged. “Guess we’re doing it then,” he said happily. The children whooped. “We’ll have to practice a little more…then we’ll have our debut, okay?”

“Yeah!” they screamed. Fifteen minutes later they took it to the ballroom. Alexx announced them while the adults, intrigued, laughed merrily and whispered amongst themselves, pointing out their own children.

Ryan felt a tug at his sleeve.

“Yes Jamie?” he asked the young girl kindly.

“Can you dance with us?” she asked, worrying her lip a little.

“Well, I don’t have a partner,” he said to her gently. She brightened.

“I’ll be your partner!” she said joyfully, pulling him into the center of the floor where the rest of the children were standing hesitantly. He sighed then stood in place.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”

Placing his hands behind his back, he counted down, then started dancing.

Clack clack. Clack. Skip skip jump. Ryan grinned, and Eric, watching as everyone else was, became mesmerized. Dark strands of hair flew around his eyes as he danced.

As they finally finished, the children bowed at Ryan’s beckoning, and surprised applause broke out. Even as they clapped, Eric’s eyes connected with Ryan’s, easy grins forming on both faces, gazing at each other alone.

ivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivkivk

“So…”

“Hmm?” Ryan turned his head to look at Eric. The younger children were being bundled up now, almost ready to leave: they would in a few minutes, after the countdown. He himself had contentedly formed a reunion with his glass of wine, although he was also drinking some water – the dance had left him slightly dehydrated.

“May I have a dance? A non-Tinkiling one. Outside of course,” Eric said, anxiously.

He placed a hand on Eric’s shoulder, even as Eric looped his arms around his waist. Ryan jerked a little as the chilled wine glass still in Eric’s hand rested gently in the small of his back.

“Sorry,” Eric said, apologizing. Ryan shook his head, then mischievously touching the back of his glass against Eric’s neck, making him jump.

“Now we’re even,” Ryan said, smiling. They swayed a little to the music, chattering every now and then, softly. Slowly, the clock made it’s way to midnight, and as the countdown started, they sipped the rest of the wine away.

“Hey, would you like to go see a movie with me Thursday? Popcorn and tickets on me,” Eric said, trying to sound confident. His warm eyes were looking at him, his hands slightly fidgety. Ryan looked at him and grinned, kissing the side of his mouth just as the last rings of the clock came in.

“I’d love to.”

If anyone wants to check out the dance I was writing about, here it is! http://youtube.com/watch?v=bEJK9MFYvNw&feature=related

Drawn Out: Chapter 1

Sat, 05 Jan 2008 00:22:28 GMT

With birthday wishes to alligator138, whose icons happily decorate my stories and reviews, I present as a gift:

DRAWN OUT

Chapter 1

An artist cannot fail – it is a success to be one.

--Charles Horton Cooley

“Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me…”

Ryan sighed, lending a pause to the melancholy humming of the birthday tune he was engaging in. He’d come home from work, tired and strung out and still cut-off from the rest of the team. They smiled, yes, and they talked with him (he didn’t think he could stand it otherwise) but it was hardly like they were when they were with each other. And here he was, celebrating his birthday alone. Again.

He doubted that anybody in the lab even knew when his birthday was. And most of his patrol friends were still out at work. He was pathetic. He sighed again.

Then suddenly, he smiled. He didn’t have to be alone. Grabbing his bags, he turned off his pager – he had work to do.

It was one hour later before his car managed to park at the shabby little center, but it was worth it when he saw little Francis shouting and running towards him with glee. “Ry-en! Ry-en!”

Ryan laughed, as the little high-pitched cry raised up others. A young woman and man hurried out of the shelter, both simultaneously wiping their hands on their clothes – he smothered a smile. Here he wasn’t a failure: he was a success. He was more than a success. Jack and Annie, the two siblings who had founded the center, ran over as he began replying to the children. He had come to the shelter a few months ago, when he’d picked up a child crying in the middle of the street. He’d been struck by the coziness, an absolute contradiction against his workplace and had agreed to stay as a drawing teacher when Jack had commented with surprise on his work. It was a measly salary, but Ryan accepted it without complaints, charitable or otherwise. And if Annie noticed that the little safe in the kitchen never seemed as empty as it should be after salary day was over, she never said a word.

Soon there was a little crowd of people surrounding him speaking in excited chatters.

“You came! You came early!”

“Did you miss us?”

“Pick me up, pick me up!”

Ryan obliged heartily, sweeping a few youngsters up into his arms and down again. “Yes, I came early, and yes I missed you.”

His eyes softened as he looked upon the myriad of children enclosing him. He had been stupid not to drive straight here after work – this was one place that he belonged. He looked at the twins, and winked. “Who’s up for an impromptu drawing lesson?”

As squeals, giggles and smiles broke out in a deafening chorus, he let himself get led away by Annie. “Is everything alright?”

She looked at him worriedly, eyes seemingly inspecting him from head to toe. Ryan smiled lopsidedly. “Yeah, everything’s fine, just wanted to see the kids suddenly.”

She nodded then, after looking at him for a few minutes. “Alright. Go ahead then.” She left him, already heading towards the kitchen.

He grinned, heading towards the little improvised classroom where he drew and created and encouraged them to draw and create too.

“Oh, and Ryan? Your birthday cake is sitting on your desk.”

It was four hours later before Ryan finally managed to make his way into the house, but he was happy when he did so. There was paint on his shirt (and it was his favorite shirt, damn it!) there were flecks of food all over his trousers and his OCD was screaming insults at his intelligence, but he was happy. With fondness, he laid down the huge, messy birthday card that the children had frantically put together in the two hours that he had looked persistently away from whatever they were doing. He had had a further hunch that there was an extra batch of missing children fixing something in the common area and he had been right.

They had given him everything really – his enjoyment of the messes of food they had given him had been genuine.

Briiiing! Briiiing!

He jumped, as his phone’s ringtone echoed throughout the house. Picking it up, he swore as he looked upon the screen. Sighing, and realizing that his birthday was officially over and that he had had no time to continue…

Briiiing!

“I’m coming over. Hold on.”

He headed out the door.

A/N: I know this chapter is short, but I tried my best! It was a horrendously busy day.

ype your cut contents here.

Nameless: Chapter 8

Sat, 05 Jan 2008 00:17:56 GMT

Title: Nameless
Writer: Aphena
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Category: AU (sort of), romance
Pairing: Eric/Ryan
Rating: R (just in case) PG-13 in this chapter.
Warning: Nailed spoilers, mentions of Erica Sykes.
Summary: Anonymous spiteful letters are being sent to Ryan. But why? And who is sending them?
Disclaimer: Do not own CSI: Miami.

Chapter 8 (9/12?)

NAMELESS

Chapter 8

Ryan groaned, as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of his room. It was cold, and the floor beneath him was linoleum. Weak light shafted in through the shutters on his left. It was only then that he realized that the door had opened.

“Hello, Ryan.” A familiar figure stood before him.

“Cooper.” He managed to spit the name out. There was a chuckle.

“True, though probably not how you’re thinking it.” He paused. “I wonder…do you even know why you’re here?”

“No, I don’t,” Ryan answered coldly. He resisted the urge to get up and fight – he needed to gather all the strength he had left.

“Really? Then this might be a little reminder,” Cooper said conversationally.

Within seconds a hard boot had smashed against the side of his body, making an audible crack against his ribs. Ryan moaned as he fell against the floor. His vision swam, the keratitis weakening him where the kick and the tranquilizer hadn’t.

“I’m sorry, that must have been too vague,” Cooper said cheerfully. “No worries, you’ll understand later.” He turned to walk away.

Ryan sneered. “They’ll come after you Cooper. The team will find you, you know it.”

“No they won’t. There’ll be nothing to find…apart from you, dead and rotting.” He smirked, then said: “I’ll wait until he gets here…but then you’re dead.”He snarled, then walked out of the doorway, as Ryan lay on the floor in pain.

“What? How could the tape be edited?” Eric turned the tapes over and over in his hands.

“I went to the toilet for just a second.” Dan shrugged, sheepishly. “The entire section of who drove Ryan off has been cut off.”

Eric looked at him, disbelievingly. “You just left it there, unprotected, while Ryan is out there in who knows what?” Breathing heavily, he reached out, fists ready, arms swinging wide…

“Eric!” Small hands pulled him backwards. He turned towards eyes, light green, like Ryan’s, but also decidedly female, not like him at all. “That won’t help, you know it won’t.”

“He walked away to the toilet and whoever it was snuck in and took part of our evidence, our only evidence away!” He said, shouting, feeling helpless, feeling like there was nothing.

“Well, he’s going to be sorting it out really soon,” Calleigh turned her eyes on Dan, “aren’t you Cooper?” Her expression glacial, Cooper hastily nodded, rushing away to his office.

“Hey.” She took hold of Eric’s elbow gently. “We’ll find Ryan, okay? We’re doing everything we can. But punching Dan in the face isn’t going to help things no matter how much he deserves it.”

Eric nodded, but his heart began to chill, just as lavender began taking over orange in the skies.

It was early morning already. The team had refused to leave – Horatio had not pressed them to, unable to tell them to do something that he himself could not bear to do. Ryan could be anywhere by now, the radius of his possible location getting wider with every minute. Sure, they’d posted patrol officers at every main road but whoever it was could have easily changed cars – quite a lot of people had something against the MDPD. Ryan could be suffering – anything – could be – dead.

Unable to stand the thought of being unable to see Ryan alive he ran out of the laboratories, seeking fresh air. Entering the parking areas, he stopped at Ryan’s hummer’s parking space. It was empty, like Ryan’s space in the lab. He crouched down, jaw clenched and hands running furiously through his hair.

“Damn it!” he struck the ground with his fist, scraping a part of his palm. He hissed a little in pain, and glared at the ground.

Then he stared.

There, on the ground, was a small streak of red, and a torn out nail. A nail that could be Ryan’s. Skin cells that could…not be Ryan’s. Trembling, he placed the nail into the sample bag, and got a sample of – he watched the q-tip turn magenta – blood, taking photos all the way. Then he ran back into the lab.

“Horatio!” he called, cradling the little bit of evidence as carefully as possible.

The red head turned, both Erica and Ryan’s uncle standing up eagerly. “What is it?” he asked anxiously.

“I think it might be Ryan’s,” Eric said, gesturing towards the sample bag that he was still holding so carefully. Horatio’s eyes sharpened. He got up hastily.

“Let’s get it to DNA.”

Valera walked it through the scanners, then let loose a smile.

“There’re skin cells on this nail. Ryan was smart enough to get something from his attacker before tearing it off and dropping it on the ground. And we can tell it’s Ryan because of the blood and the residue skin.”

“Can you run it through CODIS?” Eric asked, urgently.

Valera nodded. Horatio picked up the phone, snapping a few orders, then turned back to Valera.

“Quickly, then.”

Rapidly Valera pushed the data into their places, everyone watching avidly.

A few hours later, the two CSIs and Valera stared, disbelievingly at the screen, the words ‘no match’ flashing at them. Eric grit his jaw then and Horatio turned away, until Valera typed something else.

“What did you do?” Horatio asked, slightly bewildered. Everyone was tired, and Horatio had himself sorted through a pile of things that morning – anything for Ryan.

“Ran it through the employee database as well,” Valera answered. Another few hours later and the machine beeped again. They turned to look at the database, and eyes widened as three words popped up.

“No match found? How is that even possible? Security said that they didn’t seen anybody different this morning!” Eric tightened his fists again, frustration making it difficult to think. “How are we going to find Ryan if…”

“Wait.” Valera turned in her chair. “I remember seeing this weird little glitch before when I was entering someone’s data into the system a month or two ago.” She started typing frantically.

“What do you mean, glitch?”Eric said, crinkling his eyes together.

“I saw this weird genetic defect in someone’s data I entered. I’m trying to find out if it was just coincidence or if this coincidence actually means that it was a relative that snuck Ryan out.” She typed some more, then sat back, watching a blizzard of numbers flit across the page.

The data flipped constantly, charts upon charts blurring into one wide streak of green, the names of each person practically vibrating on each page. Then, suddenly, it stopped.

When the DNA sample paralleled with another and five words came up, Eric was off, eyes hard in revenge.

He threw Cooper across the room.

“Where is he?” Eric demanded, slamming his hands upon the table.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. For God’s sake, man, do you honestly think I took Ryan and siphoned him off or something? Get real!” Cooper flung his arms open for emphasis.

“You might not have kidnapped him yourself but you do know who did!”

“I don’t know anything!”Cooper opened his eyes wide, leaning back in his chair.

“We’ve got DNA to prove that you do know something!”The room was silent for a while, then the taps of shoes on floor echoed into their ears.

“It had to be you, you know,” Calleigh said, as she entered through the door that Horatio had opened for her. “You were the only one who could edit the tapes while disturbing the video cameras enough that we couldn’t see who it was.”

“Yes, and the person coming out of the room that Ryan was in was also you,” Horatio added. “And now DNA proves that a relative of yours was here…tell us where Ryan is now and you may get some leniency in court.” They stared at him, hard eyes and hard voices. Cooper leaned back, looked at the ceiling for a while, then began to speak.

“Fine, I’m Dan’s twin: Sean Cooper. I kidnapped Ryan; Danny doesn’t even know about it. He’s off somewhere in Hawaii…I shipped him off to get a hold of Ryan. Dan doesn’t know that Ryan was the one who killed our father, two years ago.”

“What?” Calleigh spoke in shock.

Sean smirked. “Oh, yes, Ryan wasn’t perfect. He shot our father when he was in patrol.” His face crunched up, thinned into a mutation of insanity. “He killed him.”

It took a moment to absorb the words, but then Calleigh’s voice became clipped, her temper short. “Regardless of what he’s done, Ryan is still a human being. It is not up to you whether he should be taken away, alive or dead or whatever else you have in mind.”

“I think Ms. Duquesne has spoken for the rest of us. Now,” Horatio gestured to the patrol officers waiting outside. “Where is Ryan?”

Eric was driving recklessly, he knew. The only reason he hadn’t been arrested yet was because of his identity – and possibly Ryan’s relationship with the rest of the patrol officers. He didn’t really care – all he knew was that he needed to make sure that Ryan, Ryan who’d their team hadn’t even cared to know until so, so late, was alright.

Sean Cooper had described the abandoned schoolhouse where Ryan had been planted rather reluctantly. He’d planned to lock him there, he said, eyes darting from side to side in a nervous, but strangely arrogant manner. Let him starve to death, he’d said, eyes maniacal. It’d been two days already and Ryan had not had breakfast the day he’d disappeared – he would be weak. Eric only hoped that he wouldn’t have other injuries that Cooper had left unmentioned – a wound left for so long a time would not go uninfected.

Braking forcefully as he spotted the school, he leapt out of the hummer and ran towards the steps quickly. He ran from room to room, frantic, unreasonably anxious to see Ryan and make sure, with his own eyes, that he was right and well. Spotting familiar dark brown hair, he ran into the room.

“Ryan!”

“Eric?”Green eyes lifted, fatigued, bruises forming and formed on skin underneath a tattered shirt. He was so hungry, and the various kicks and hits that Cooper had given him had done their work. He was tired, and unsure that the person in front of him was who he was, his vision flowing overly bright and unfocused.

There was a wrathful growl, and then a familiar voice said, “I’m going to kill him, the monstrous…”

Ryan smiled, recognizing the warm tones in Eric’s voice, even as the other’s English descended into a heavy onslaught of Spanish curses.

Eric ran towards him, already kneeling, ducking under one of Ryan’s arms. Warm, gentle fingers grasped hold of his wrist and his arm, lifting him slowly, carefully.

Ryan leaned on him, relieved, relaxing finally. He’d been so tired…

It was then that out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a glint of silver.

His eyes widened. Then his hand hit the floor.

He launched himself up and over, blind and desperate, terror for EricEricEric, the knife coming down, and then blessed relief when the pain hit his side, when the blade split his skin, and not bright, brown, beautiful Eric’s. He smiled, arms already weakening from the strain, letting slip a labored gasp as the hand holding the knife was snatched away and the weapon in his side was jerked a little…

He had just enough time to take note of Eric’s wide caramel eyes before the pain in his world became black and was seized, by a hand…somewhere…

Eric reached out to take hold of Ryan’s hands and arms, unable to stop the strange mix of rage and relief at the sight of Ryan’s injured, but intact body. He was just helping Ryan to his feet, with Ryan’s left hand still supporting his weight on the floor, when a footstep sounded on the floor, synonymous with the sudden focusing of Ryan’s glazed eyes.

Within seconds he heard running footsteps and Ryan had reached for the floor only to flip their bodies.

The world spun, sky flipping to ground flipping to sky. And when it’d stopped, he was staring into endless, fading green, back on the ground, fingers still curled into Ryan’s shirt, palm slipping down, down, down.

It was only when Ryan had collapsed upon him, his head buried in Ryan’s hair, his arm under Ryan’s arm, did the red seeping from Ryan’s side register as blood.

The screams left his mouth, he knew, but he didn’t really hear them. He was deaf to everything but the steady rhythm of Ryan’s chest, up and down, getting weaker and weaker. He understood vaguely that he was exiting the building, that patrol had taken control of both brothers and had put them somewhere safe. But his eyes were focused solely on the blood that ran from Ryan’s body, thickly, like syrup but red, and unpillowed by Ryan’s sunlight pancakes, unwelcome. The world had narrowed to him, and Ryan, and blood and knife, until his eyes glanced across the white blare of an ambulance and sound burst back into his ears and he heard himself shouting, shouting, helpless.

“I need an ambulance! Medics!”

A/N: Apologies for the EXTREMELY long wait. I went into my new university and promptly suffered extreme panic. Since I was small I've had a problem about anxiety and I think it re-surfaced in larger form as soon as I left my home. It isn't any excuse for leaving my writing - it was, in fact, my writing that helped me get my life back again. I hope this chapter is to your satisfaction - it was 2 times longer than it usually is (partly to make up for the horrendous wait) and I think at least some of you will be glad to know that Drawn Out will be updated in 3 days at the most.

Again, APOLOGIES!!

Nameless: Chapter 7

Sat, 05 Jan 2008 00:14:05 GMT

Nameless

Chapter 7

Horatio stood up hurriedly. “What do you mean Ryan is missing? Have you searched the entire lab?”

Eric shook his head, eyes wilder than before. “I’ve searched the entire building and asked everyone. No one’s seen Ryan since at least an hour ago. The last one was apparently Calleigh, when she saw him go off to complete some of the documentation for the dentist case.”

“Have you tried contacting him by phone?”

Eric nodded, pressing his thumbs onto his temples. “It’s disconnected, and he’s not answering any text messages yet. H, he’s paranoid about never leaving his phone uncharged and he never goes anywhere without it.”

Horatio nodded, mouth set into a grim line. “Ask Sally at the front desk to make an announcement. We need to gather everyone in the building into the cafeteria in ten minutes.” He strode from the room. “I’ll ring the night shift in.”

Horatio walked into the cafeteria rapidly, stress lines showing on his face. One glance showed that the cafeteria contained no Ryan. He cleared his throat, then barked out orders.

“Something has happened. One of us is missing. I want all superiors to check their teams over for missing people immediately!” There was quick movement, before each officer declared their team ‘all accounted for’, while Horatio counted each of his own. He tensed even more as no Ryan came forward, Eric’s fists clenching beside him.

“One of our CSIs is missing and most probably in danger. Nobody else can get into this lab without our accreditation. As a result, everyone here is under suspicion.”

Alarmed murmurs broke out amongst the groups as each team looked at the others in the hall.

“I need, I need everyone to account for themselves in the last two hours. We will call you in one by one. Please listen for any further announcements. Additionally, if anyone can tell me anything about the whereabouts of CSI Ryan Wolfe, it would be much appreciated.”

He paused. “That is all.”

The crowds dispersed slowly, a cacophony of whispers swirling as Calleigh, Alexx, Frank and Natalia gathered towards them.

“Ryan’s missing?” Calleigh asked, straight to the point. Horatio and Eric nodded, and immediately Alexx closed her eyes.

“When?”

“Since an hour ago. I’ve just phoned the night shift, and it seems that all of them are accounted for.” HE took a deep breath. “Every single piece of evidence will be contaminated, but there’s no hope for it,” Horatio said, gravely.

“Couldn’t we call in another county?” Natalia said, piping up.

Eric looked at her disbelievingly. “And waste more time while Ryan goes missing?”

“I want Eric to go get the security tapes and talk to whoever was on duty at the car park. Remember to record on tape what you see on the security tape in detail – in case someone edits it. The rest of you will interview everyone in the building. Include any alibis. Report back to me when you’re finished, and don’t forget to account for your own whereabouts in the tapes.”

Eric hurried off then, only just in time to discover security heading towards him at a rapid pace. “CSI Delko? One of the hummers has been stolen.”

Eric inhaled sharply. “What? Did you see anything? Which one is it?”

“It’s CSI Ryan Wolfe’s, sir. We were just changing places then – only takes a few minutes. But when we turned around and did a round, the hummer was gone.”

“Alright. Help me remove the tapes from the security cameras and hand them directly to me,” Eric stated, a furrow appearing in between his eyebrows. “Let us know if someone has left the building.”

He walked towards Horatio then, mind fidgeting awkwardly in anxiety. “H, they’re missing a hummer, and the security guards were changing places just then. They didn’t see anything.”

Horatio exhaled. “Eric, that just confirms that it’s one of us. No one else could know all these details.”He thought for a moment. “Ryan can’t be far if everyone is accounted for. It’s either that or whoever it is, is working with an outsider.”

Eagerly he started watching the videos, eyes flicking back and forth frantically to search for Ryan’s face. One hour later, his heart sank. The security tapes were useless – the driver’s face was hidden by a blur of sunlight and window, and Ryan couldn’t be seen. Sighing, he handed the tapes to Cooper, who was waiting impatiently.

“If you find anything, page me or Horatio immediately, okay? Don’t wait.” Cooper nodded, scurrying off, and Eric took the time to try and breathe a little. Not being able to sit and do nothing while waiting though, he interrogated the building’s people with a vigor and ferocity not seen since his sister had been accused of drug dealing. Marisol was fine now, fortunately enough – and had actually met Ryan many times since his stay at Eric’s house. She was going through cancer therapy and was healthy, alive.

He worked harder when it dawned on him that Ryan might not be the same way.

It was two hours later, therefore, when he stumbled out into the hallway to grab a coffee, evicted out of the interrogation rooms forcefully by Calleigh. Instead he bumped headlong into Horatio, who was striding the corridors.

“What’s up, H?” he said, just as he heard high heels ringing down the aisle. He turned.

“Where is he?” A familiar blonde stalked into the hall, closely followed by what looked like an aging brown-haired man.

“Miss Sykes,” Horatio turned towards her, still unable to believe that she was one of Ryan’s emergency contacts.

“Where is he?” she repeated, anxiously.

“I’m afraid we don’t know where he is Miss Sykes, Mister uh…”

“Ronald Wolfe.” The man – presumably Ryan’s uncle – waved aside the courtesies impatiently. “And what do you mean, you don’t know where he is? You phoned us at least three hours ago. Has there been no progress since then?”

“Well, we know that it was by an insider…”

“What?” Erica hissed, “Ryan was taken from here, by one of yours, and you still don’t know who it is?!”

Horatio pinched the bridge of his nose. “The signs pointed to an insider, but the only ones that could have the authority to drive the hummer in which Ryan was taken are the ones investigating the case. Not to mention that my entire team are here: we can’t go by who’s missing since no one’s been missing for a significant amount of time.”

“So then it’s either Ryan is being held very close to here, or an outsider was involved.” Horatio threw a sharp glance at Ryan’s uncle: he was much more intelligent than he looked.

“That’s right, Mr. Wolfe.”

The other man sneered. “Don’t patronize me, Lieutenant Caine. I may be co-operating with you, but your department just lost the nephew I’ve been helping raise since he was but a babe. And by the gods, if you don’t find him, alive and well, I will make sure that this entire building suffers for it!”

Horatio took off his sunglasses and looked at him in the eye. “Mr. Wolfe, we will find him. I give you my word.”

Ronald Wolfe looked at the lieutenant. “You better,” he said quietly. He walked away, to sit stiffly at the edge of a seat in front of the reception, Erica joining him after sending them a glare. Horatio turned towards his team.

“For them, if not for us, we have to find Ryan,” he said, eyes determined, and the team nodded. Only Eric deferred – in his mind, he promised himself, and another: For Ryan.

Eric would remember the day with intense clarity, unlike those who remembered memories of blurred pain. Every minute was anxious and sharp, a personal attack, every second seemingly a loss. And all along Ryan’s safety was the goal, was the reason. Was everything.

Now, he stepped out of the interrogation room, daring to take a breath. They were done going through everyone in the day and night shift, finally. Yet nothing particularly unusual had propped up. Eric hated the fact that somewhere in the building, Ryan’s assailant was walking free, perhaps stepping past him right this moment, laughing secretly at their endeavors. “You need to check your messages, Horatio’s been looking for you.”

“Messages?” Eric looked at her, mind whirring as he struggled to remember why this word was sticking, why his mind refused to let it go like it should. Then suddenly, it clicked, and everything started blurring as his feet started to run. Pushing people out of the way, his feet only started slowing down when his eyes met the metallic door of the locker room.

He pushed it aside, stomach twisting into a sphere of dread.

Later on, he only recalled Calleigh and Alexx’s soft, steady hands, gripping him, and escorting him to a seat nearby, as Horatio stared at the large, printed sign on Ryan’s locker that said: Don’t Bother Searching – You Don’t Want To See Him That Way in front of him. Erica Sykes and Ryan’s uncle were also present, though both were avidly avoiding looking at the sign.

It was at that moment Dan Cooper ran into the room, eyes wide, voice panting and out of breath. “Someone’s edited the tape!”

Nameless: Chapter 6

Wed, 15 Aug 2007 12:50:50 GMT

Nameless

Chapter 6

It was during the weekend of the second week that Estelle Marisa Delko entered the realm of her son’s house to find not only the surprising smell of cooking beef in the air, but Eric at home watching television. He hugged her enthusiastically as usual while her eyes wandered around in wonder.

“What happened to your apartment?”she demanded as soon as she let go of him.

“What do you mean what happened?”asked Eric, puzzled.

“It’s so neat!” she exclaimed, inspecting all of the rooms. She paused at one of them, Ryan’s room. “Is someone staying here?”

Eric opened his mouth to reply, when Ryan stumbled in though the doorway. “You won’t believe it but they ran out of past – oh!” He placed down the bags on his arms. “Um, hi.”

Estelle looked at him in amusement before continuing her conversation with Eric. “Never mind, I think God just answered my question.”

Ryan, overcoming his shock, came closer. “You must be Eric’s mother. It’s great to meet you,” He held out his hand, smiling.

“And you must be Ryan,” she smiled as she looked him over. “Quite cute really, though you could use with a little more fat on your bones,” she added, a cheeky glint in her eye. Ryan blushed and she laughed, patting him on the back. He started putting things away as she hugged her son again.

“Eric, you know I didn’t think you’d be home on a Saturday night,” she said. “I was just going to put down a few things for you…”

“Yeah, well, wouldn’t do to leave Ryan alone in the house. He’d probably destroy it in less than ten minutes,” Eric quipped, laughing as Ryan yelled from the kitchen, “I heard that!”Estelle smiled as she watched her son’s eyes soften, still looking at Ryan. He turned back to her, shuffling in a manner familiar to her from when he still used to be nervous about a girl.

“Ryan’s a nice guy Mama. ‘Sides, he needs looking after,” he said.

“I need looking after!”Ryan said, coming out of the kitchen with a salad. “Yeah right. Who’s the one who actually knows how to use the kitchen stove?” he teased, handing Estelle a spoon.

“Eric, are you telling me that this boy cooks for you?”Estelle demanded.

“Well,” Eric stuttered. “Um, I’ll… go get the plates!” he said, and ran to the kitchen. Estelle and Ryan shared a look, then started laughing. They knew that they would get along. She could sense that he cared for her son – and that her son cared for him. It was in the banter that they exchanged nearly all the time, and the soft, fond looks that they cast at each other when the other wasn’t looking – not that it mattered, since men were oblivious. By the time Estelle walked out of the house, she was well-satisfied with the fact that Ryan Wolfe would end up as her son’s partner. The only slight problem would be the lack of children – but adoption would fix that.

She grinned to herself. A daughter and a son… how would that go?

Ah…in time. In time…

Ryan watched Estelle leave the house, still waving from the garden.

“You like my mother huh?”Eric said, behind him. Ryan nodded.

“She’s really nice.”He paused. “Unlike you,” he teased.

Eric turned towards Ryan then, tickling him. “Take that back,” he said, fingers dancing lightly over pale skin. Ryan backed away, chuckles erupting from his throat uncontrollably.

“Hey!” he yelled. He ran towards the water hose, turning it on. “I’m armed!” Ryan shouted out, waving the spraying hose wildly. Dodging the spray, Eric grabbed hold of a bucket full of water. “So am I!” he said, laughing.

Screech. Ryan turned on the hose full power, blasting it onto Eric. Eric shook some water out of his hair, frantically waving his head about as Ryan looked on in humor. “You wet my hair!”

He stood up, walking towards Ryan with the bucket. “You are going down.”

He broke into a run then, Ryan skipping away while waving the hose randomly. They laughed as water sprinkled through the air and onto their clothes. Then Eric managed to grab hold of Ryan’s shirt.

“No!” Ryan shouted, defending himself with the hose. Eric chuckled, emptying the entire bucket of water onto Ryan’s head just as both of them tripped over the coils of hose spread across the garden. Looking up in surprise, Ryan reached, taking hold of Eric’s shirt before falling down onto the wet grass beneath him. They landed, Eric bracing himself above Ryan and Ryan’s arms above his head. They laid there, laughing uncontrollably, Eric nesting his head on Ryan’s collarbone and Ryan’s hand still clutching onto the lapel of Eric’s shirt.

Gradually they stopped laughing, both relaxing in the light of the sunshine. Both of them stayed where they were, perfectly content to lie in the relative arms of the other. Both loving the feel of the other, the image of water clinging onto the other’s hair like spun glass…Ryan loving it too much. Getting slightly too comfortable, Ryan reached his fingers out towards his left, sneaking his arm behind his back until his fingers touched the rubbery hose. Then, quick as a flash, he placed the still-spraying hose in front of Eric’s face.

Eric spluttered, instantly covering his face with his hands. He wrenched the hose from Ryan’s hands and flung it far away from them. Then he turned back towards Ryan, leaning on him.

“Oh, now you’re going to get it,” Eric said, grinning dangerously. Ryan held his breath as Eric pinned him down with his arms.

“That. Had better not be what I think it is.”

Eric raised himself off of Ryan reluctantly, both of them turning to look at the two women standing in their garden. “You mean cleaning Eric down?” Ryan asked innocently, as Alexx and Calleigh approached the both of them. Eric mock-growled and Ryan yelped. He leapt up and ran behind Alexx.

“Mom, he started it!”he said, pointing at Eric from behind her back. Calleigh burst out laughing as Eric marched towards them, hair still soaking wet. Alexx raised her eyebrows. “Well, young man, what do you have to say for yourself?” she asked, mouth threatening to twitch itself into a giggle.

“That he’s an out and out liar?” Eric said, tauntingly. Ryan pouted.

“I am not!” The women started giggling then, as Ryan and Eric played an amusing game of tag together. And they both shared smiles, gratified with the fact that both would be happy together.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Ring. Riiing.

Ryan groaned, irritated by the wake-up call. He knew both Eric and him were on secondary call. Grumbling for a moment, he scrambled slowly out of bed. Then he went into Eric’s bedroom, pausing only a moment at the doorway to admire his friend’s physique before entering.

“Eric, we’re on call.” He sat on the edge of his partner’s bed, still shaking Eric’s shoulder. He tried not to smile at the childish way the Latino was curling further into the bed.

“Eric, come on,” he soothed, pleading for the other to wake up. “We need to go!” He didn’t see the tanned arm reaching for his shirt until afterwards.

Ryan gasped as Eric pulled him down onto the bed.

“Five more minutes,” Eric grunted, burrowing his head onto Ryan’s stomach. Ryan stiffened; then relaxed, into Eric’s sleepy embrace. He let his hand stroke into Eric’s hair, let his side be warmed by Eric’s skin.

“Fine, but only five minutes,” he said softly. He didn’t see Eric’s smile as they snuggled further into the mattress together.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

They arrived at work slightly late, but both explained the few minutes away with the traffic jam that they’d been trapped in just moments before. It was a difficult case, one lasting until morning. Ryan was finishing up the paperwork before he had lunch and so he went to one of the rooms where all the files were before getting to work. He’d just gotten the documents when someone entered the room. He briefly glanced up, then glanced back down again.

“So, Ryan, how’re you doing with the dentist case?” Dan said, popping in and closing the door. “I heard the wife was a hot chick…” He smiled wickedly, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, it’s finished,” Ryan answered, not looking up. “Was the college ex-girlfriend. And the wife was a redhead – I don’t really go for those.”

“Aw man, next time you get the phone number for me, yeah?” Dan joked.

Ryan shrugged. “You would have better luck asking Eric to do that. He’s the one the girls go for.” He tried not to let the taint of jealousy affect his voice, but it seemed Dan heard anyway.

“Oh, someone’s jealous,” he teased “Maybe you should ask Eric to teach you some tricks.”

Ryan looked heaven-ward. “Back off, Coop’” he drawled, heading towards the door. “If you’re looking for leftover lonely widows, I suggest you to go for some advice yourself.” He juggled the pile of papers he had into his left hand, right hand reaching for the door. Then he frowned.

“What on…”

He jerked the door knob. “Someone’s locked the door.” He reached for his keys, muttering profanities. Then his hand froze. He emptied out his pockets in astonishment. “What the…where are my keys?”

“Looking for these?” Dan held out his pair of keys, with laughing eyes. “You should take better care of them, you know.”

Ryan snorted in annoyance. “Just give them back, Coop’, I’ve got filing to do.”

“No.”

“Stop playing around Coop’,” Ryan said, walking closer. “I’ve got to get back to work.”

Dan smiled then, calmly raising the keys so that they were dangling tauntingly in his fingers. Ryan, frustrated, grabbed at his keys. It was then that he saw the arm come up with the gleam of metal, Dan reaching upwards swift and true. He stared at Dan in shock, a sharp strike of sensation followed by numbness making its way through his side. Then, coming to his senses, he scrabbled at Dan’s skin, unable to muster the power to really swing his arms. Dan laughed, his eyes taking on an exhilarated glint.

“You think that’s going to make me let you go? Man, Ryan, you must think really little of me.”

“What are you doing this for?” Ryan hissed, even as he could feel the loss of sensation wiping its way through his legs and up his chest. He knew that Dan was dragging him to the back staircase, the one used for emergency. He let his feet stumble on every step, knowing that it would probably still not be enough for anyone to notice but taking the chance anyway. They’d just gotten to the car lot when Ryan gathered all of his strength and lashed out towards Cooper’s eyes. His heart sank as he watched the other dodge away easily.

“Oh, you’ll know soon enough.” Dan smiled – a mad smile, Ryan realized. He scratched his hands down Dan’s arms, as hard as possible.

“Stop it Ryan, it’s not going to work. Nothing’s going to work, I made sure of that.”He swiped Ryan’s hands away impatiently. Ryan dropped down suddenly, onto the floor. Cooper watched him in amusement. “What’re you trying to do? Pray?”He wrenched Ryan up, unnoticing of the small trail of blood leaking from one of Ryan’s fingertips. “Come on, I don’t have that much time.”

He hauled Ryan up, oblivious to the tiny clatter of something on the ground. Opening the door of a van, he pushed Ryan in unceremoniously, then closed the door.

And as Ryan finally succumbed to the void feeling inside him, he let the relief of his attacker not being Eric wash over his head.

Eric finished swallowing down the coffee in his cup, finally getting slightly more energized and slightly less grumpy than before. The only thing that had gone right that morning had been Ryan’s rather unconventional way of getting into his bed.

He smiled at the thought of it, and smiled even more at the knowledge that he now had some free time on his hands. Time to look for Ryan. Ryan-time, Ryan would call it. “Do you know where Ryan is?” he said, asking Calleigh. She shook her head.

“I think he’s filing.”Eric nodded, then proceeded to walk through each of the rooms in the lab.

Each one turned out Ryan-empty.

Eric asked more and more people, a coil of tension starting to build within him, getting tighter and tighter as more and more people shook their heads as to knowledge on Ryan’s whereabouts. Searching the entire building, it was one hour later before he stopped. Then he turned around. Eric walked, faster and faster, breaking into a run towards Horatio’s office. He burst in, his wild look alarming Horatio enough that he got up immediately.

“Ryan’s missing.”

Nameless: Chapter 5

Wed, 15 Aug 2007 12:48:57 GMT

NAMELESS

Chapter 5

They got into the car silently.

It wasn’t as if Eric didn’t want to talk – it was that he just didn’t know what to say. He fidgeted awkwardly.

“What do you want to eat for dinner?” he said, desperately.

“Anything’s fine,” Ryan replied, already tired beyond belief from the days’ unusual events. “You don’t have to adjust your life for me.”

Eric stuck the key into the emission, then turned to face Ryan. “I’m not adjusting my life. I’m helping out a team mate, a friend.” He stared at Ryan. “Okay?”

Ryan stared at him back. “Okay,” he said, though his eyes indicated that he didn’t believe it. Eric switched the car on anyway – trust came in time, even he knew that. They drove back home quietly, sometimes injecting a little comment here and there about the case. Both were highly aware of each other – but both also knew that the quietude between them was from the just-acquainted aura that was half a year too late.

When they moved into the kitchen, Eric dug through the fridge for ingredients to cook dinner.

“You want to cut the celery?” Eric asked Ryan as he came up with a selection of vegetables and meat in his arms.

Ryan shrugged. “Sure,” he said. “Where’re the knives?” Eric pointed to his side, and Ryan started chopping. “What’re you making, anyway?”

“Stir-fry,” Eric said. “It’s ‘bout the only thing I know how to make,” he added sheepishly.

Ryan looked at him, surprised. “You don’t know how to cook?”

“Nope,” Eric admitted easily. “Mom usually cooks things for me actually, but I don’t think she cooked enough for two.”

Ryan nodded, awkwardly, concentrating on chopping precisely. A few minutes saw them at the dining table, eating slowly, measuring each other. Afterwards, collecting the dishes to put them into the dishwasher, they maneuvered around each other cautiously, as if unknowing of what to expect.

“I’ll get some pillows and blankets for you.” Ryan sighed in relief as he heard Eric speak. Eric gestured to the guestroom.

“’Kay.”

Five minutes of hunting later, Eric strode back to the guest room, arms piled high with pillows and two blankets.

“Here they... are…”

Gently, he placed the mountain of pillows and blankets onto the ground at the doorway. He watched, mesmerized, as Ryan pulled himself free from his button-up, skin glowing in the sunset and slipped on a t-shirt. It was large on him, and made him look vulnerable. He knocked on the door and Ryan turned around, startled.

“Hey, here. Call me if you need anything, yeah?” Eric said, as he handed everything over.

“Yeah, thanks.” Ryan took the pile and placed it on his bed.

Eric smiled. “Welcome. Good night.”

Ryan grinned back just as he put down the pillows at the head of the bed. “Good night.”

That night Eric didn’t fall asleep easily, despite the fact that all bumps seemed to have been removed from his and Ryan’s relationship. He still could not understand why he was not madder at Ryan for almost outright accusing them of writing those letters. Then it clicked.

“I don’t want them to lose their lives because of me.”

Ryan had thought that it was one of them – and had protected them anyway. Guilt and shock and warmth whirled themselves together through his body. He stood from his bed, and walked towards Ryan’s room. Then he leaned against the doorway, watching the other sleep. Small breaths, in, out.

He had wronged Ryan. He wouldn’t anymore.

The next morning Eric woke up on his own bed, in his own room, in his own house. The windows emitted the same Miami sunshine, the birds chirped their horrifically familiar sounds. In fact, everything was familiar.

Apart from the glorious smell of breakfast wafting its way to his ever-hungry stomach.

Getting up, he stumbled towards the kitchen, hurrying when he saw the bacon laid out on the table.

“It’s the least I can do,” said a voice to his left, and he whipped his head just in time to catch Ryan Wolfe’s shy smile.

“You don’t have to cook breakfast for me you know,” he said, softly.

Ryan smiled. “Yeah, I know.”

Eric nodded then, his hand sneaking for a piece. Ryan smacked him with the spatula. “No eating before you brush your teeth!”

Pouting, he went to do just that, before hurrying yet again to the dining table. He forked up some of the scrambled egg next to the bacon and swallowed it, closing his eyes at the buttery taste of golden sunshine. “Jeez, I should have you cook for me more often!”

Ryan smiled then, with much relief. “Glad you like it,” he said, and started tucking in himself.

And so it began, their routine.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“Damn Hispanics.” He sneered, spitting on the ground beside Eric’s shoes.

“Why, you…” Eric lunged, unable to keep his anger under a blanket of cool. They were interrogating a suspect, and Mr. Peterson was an out-and-out racist.

He never hit.

A warm strip of pressure hauled at his arms as Ryan shouldered him back. Green eyes looked at him, a silent command of calm that, if not eradicating his temper, at least served to relax him a little.

“Ha! You can’t even beat your own fellow officer!” their suspect laughed. “Good job, la –“

“Don’t touch me,” Ryan said, stepping away from the hand that’d reached out to him. Hard eyes faced the other man as Ryan nodded towards the patrol. “Mr. Peterson. You are under arrest for publicly insulting another with racist implications, obstruction of justice and,” Ryan sneered, “the murder of Jane Franks.”

Mr. Peterson opened his mouth indignantly. “I –“

“Have got blood on the tip of your shoe, Mr. Peterson,” Ryan said, smiling coolly. “Get him out of here.”

Eric and Ryan watched as he was shoved into the police car and driven away. “Thanks, man,” Eric said, looking at Ryan.

Ryan shook his head, walking away. “I was doing my job.”

But Eric smiled.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“You go home first, I need to finish this up.” Ryan opened his mouth in the form of a protest. They usually went home together because there was only that one set of keys. Eric had stopped his nightly club wanderings in order to get Ryan home (although Ryan never did understand why he didn’t just make an extra key).

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride.” Calleigh nudged him on gently, and Ryan left, though still reluctant.

They got into the car, and Calleigh started driving.

They were quiet, Ryan still contemplating the angles of the case, and Calleigh glancing at him out of the corners of her eyes. When she parked her car down at the curb though, he started, looked towards her general direction, said ‘thanks’ and opened the door.

Or at least, tried to.

“Uh, Calleigh, the door’s locked.”

“I know,” she answered, evenly. She looked at him as he fidgeted nervously in his seat. “Are you gay, Ryan?”

Ryan flipped his head around. “What?”

“I said, are you gay?” Calleigh said carefully.

Ryan looked down for a moment, then up. “I honestly don’t know.”

She searched his eyes then, as he watched her, nothing hidden, nothing to hide.

“Alright,” she said, smiling suddenly. She unlocked the doors. “Stay safe!” She paused, as he went through the door, waving back at her. Turning on the ignition, she smiled to herself.

“And good luck, Ryan.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Eric parked the hummer, tired beyond belief. He was exhausted – filing everything had taken longer than he’d thought. He picked up a little in pace though as he remembered Ryan waiting for him, smiling involuntarily. It was rather nice to have someone to come home to.

He closed his eyes just as he entered the house, taking off his shoes and socks at the door. Ryan always went a little mental about the dirt on his shoes but he’d refused to walk around the house in socks.

“Ryan, where are you?” he yelled, trying to follow the scent of onions and tomatoes in the air.

“In the kitchen!” came Ryan’s voice, and Eric moved towards the sound.

He was mixing something, by the looks of it, arm muscles flexing slightly. And he was wearing one of Eric’s mother’s aprons, one that she’d left in Eric’s house ages ago and had never gotten back.

It was overly large for him, with blue and yellow stripes and tiny sunflowers scattered on the hem. And, most of all, it had frilly straps and ribbons. Combined with the blue handkerchief tied on Ryan’s head, it made for an incredibly cute picture. The apron hadn’t suited his mother. But it suited Ryan.

“You’re back,” Ryan said, turning his head slightly. Then he went back to his stirring.

“What’re you making?” Eric asked, coming closer. They usually ate take out – not that he minded Ryan cooking. Breakfast had become a pleasure to wake up to.

“Spaghetti bolognaise,” answered Ryan. Eric grinned, just as he got close enough to snag at the ribbon of frills at Ryan’s back, ignoring Ryan’s ‘hey’ as he involuntarily stepped back.

“You’re wearing my mother’s apron,” he commented, even as he sniffed the unidentifiable smell coming off of Ryan’s neck. He ignored the fact that his right hand was still caught at the apron’s ribbons, brushing at the small of Ryan’s back. He was concentrating on finding out what the warm, slightly spicy smell was that always surrounded Ryan and always drove him crazy.

Ryan smiled. “Yeah, I found it stuffed somewhere in your bathroom cupboard. You know,” he added wryly, “the one you apparently haven’t opened in twenty years.”

“Mmm hmm,” Eric said, as Ryan began stirring again. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked, though he was content to stand barefoot there, holding Ryan Wolfe’s apron strings and smelling Ryan Wolfe’s hair for the rest of his life.

“No, I’m almost finished,” Ryan replied, leaning unconsciously closer. “Pass me the wine?”

Eric obliged, still not letting go of the ribbons as he stepped away and stepped back. Ryan paused, added a little wine, then stepped back, closer to Eric as the steam rose. Eric breathed in as his nose touched the handkerchief on Ryan’s hair, his knuckles falling slightly to touch Ryan just above his arse.

“It’s finished,” he suddenly heard Ryan say then, as he turned around. Eric’s breath caught, as green eyes stared at him – and then he collected it, and stepped back.

“I’ll go set the table then.”

Both of them sat down, Ryan anxious about his cooking, Eric anxious about… something else.

“Well, um. You wanna try my cooking?”

He tried not to concentrate on how much he wanted to pull Ryan down onto his lap and forked some food into his mouth instead. His eyes shut a little as the flavors popped themselves open on his tongue, a cacophony of tastes merging into one.

“Ryan, are you sure you don’t want to become a chef in your next lifetime?” he said, still enjoying the medley of aromas wafting around him.

Ryan rolled his eyes, good naturedly. “Yes, I’m sure, damn it.”

They finished eating, both of them watching each other discreetly, while conversing about their day. It had become normal to hang around with each other – and Eric’s apartment had never been cleaner. Eric had found that he rather enjoyed going home now – that he didn’t need to go out to find people. Companionship was there already, at home. He had never really gotten that spare key for Ryan…

Ryan went to get the mail, as Eric finished gathering the dishes. He turned around, just as Ryan came through the door again, opening one of the letters.

And then he watched Ryan’s face pale, and got up heading towards him.

Ryan:

Which one of us do you think it is? Look around you – I’m closer than you think.

He inhaled sharply, then put the letter down onto the table. He called Horatio, and then headed towards Ryan who was sitting catatonically on the sofa. And he held his wrist, held him.

Held him.

Nameless: Chapter 4

Wed, 15 Aug 2007 12:47:08 GMT

NAMELESS

Chapter 4

He parked into his parking space slowly, then sat behind the wheel for a little to rest. He was early, so he wouldn’t be late if he just took a few moments. He’d just been so tired lately. He couldn’t seem to sleep much at nights and so he took what rest he could in the day.

Looking up and realizing that it was around time to go in, he took a deep breath and attempted to smooth all the fatigue out of his face. Then he locked the door to the car, and headed inside. There was already a case in motion – Calleigh and Eric hadn’t arrived yet so they were taking their cars to the scene, somebody having already taken pictures of the body’s position when it’d been found. He was going to go for the autopsy.

He entered the morgue.

“Hey, Alexx.”

“Hey, Ryan,” she said, not looking up from the table. Ryan smiled faintly, wryly. She would have looked up for the others. “You here for the autopsy?”

“Yeah,” Ryan answered. He went up to the table, unnoticing as a piece of paper fell from his pocket.

“Now look here, there’s an entry wound for the bullet,” she pointed towards a wound. “And, the bullet itself,” she said, plucking out a warped piece of metal. “Vic died quickly – bullet lodged straight into his heart.”

He listened to the rest of the autopsy, in the end collecting a sample of the curious powder stuck on the victim’s jacket. “Thanks, Alexx!”

He walked out of the door – just as Alexx spotted the piece of paper on the floor. “Ryan – !”

She sighed in irritation, as footsteps faded away from her door. He hadn’t heard her. She picked up the note on the floor. Curiosity overtook her and she unfolded it, only feeling a little guilty as she read the skittering of words on the page.

Ryan:

Bet your team was disappointed when you didn’t end up blind.

Alexx drew in a sharp breath. Her hands started shaking. What kind of person could hurt another this way? She remembered suddenly, all too clearly, the fatigue in Ryan’s eyes recently, the hurt that was constantly lurking. She wondered how no one had asked him what was the matter. Hadn’t anyone cared? For a moment she felt a taste of fury whip through her – and as abruptly as it appeared, it ended and was replaced by remorse. She too, had ignored his pain. She had been one of them. Taking a deep breath, she started walking towards Horatio’s office.

Horatio looked up as the door to his private office opened.

“Is something wrong Alexx?”

Silently, Alexx handed over the piece of paper held in her hand.

Horatio read the letter. Then he closed his eyes, hands touching his forehead. “Get the others. And get Ryan.”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Calleigh and Eric wandered into the room curiously, Ryan following them.

“What’s the matter H?”

Horatio ignored the question. “Ryan, is this yours?” He handed him the letter.

Ryan glanced at it. “Yes, it was given to me.” He looked at Horatio, face unreadable.

“Would you,” Horatio cleared his throat even as he handed the note to the others to read. Both Calleigh and Eric uttered sounds of shock; Ryan didn’t react. “Would you bring the other ones then? If there are any others?” He looked at Ryan trying to convey his sympathy with the younger man standing in front of him.

Ryan shrugged uncaringly. Horatio watched, shocked, as Ryan left the room, came back, and placed a stack of papers onto his desk. The pile of papers numbered ten to fifteen at least. He closed his eyes. “How long has it been since these started appearing?” he asked. He wondered if he wanted to know the answer.

“A month and a half now.”

Horatio inhaled deeply. “Ryan, I want to tell you that we’ll be working on this right away,” he said, looking straight into his CSI’s eyes.

Ryan returned the gaze, apathetic. “Don’t worry about it; there are other cases more important than mine.”

Horatio looked at him incredulously, not alone in his expression. “This is illegal, and it is harming you, Ryan!”

Something flickered in Ryan’s eyes and he looked away. “I don’t want them to lose their lives because of me.”

“You do not want to find out who this is? To know for certain, and to stop them?”

Ryan shook his head decisively. “It doesn’t matter, I’m resigning at the end of the month anyway. It’ll probably stop then.”

“What?!” The others looked at him in disbelief as he stared determinedly at the floor.

“I found a job with the night shift but just in case you want to see me out of the building I’ve got an offer from one of the pharmaceutical companies. You don’t have to be afraid of the media either, I’ve told Erica to back off.” He hesitated. “I was going to give you the letter at the end of the month, but here,” he said, handing over the envelope that was now synonymous with his lab coat.

Horatio stared unseeingly at the letter. Then he placed it at the corner of his desk refusing to open it. Before he could say anything, Eric opened his mouth.

“You can’t… you can’t resign,” Eric stated, world seeming to spin around him. Ryan looked at him strangely.

“Actually I think I already did. Why wouldn’t I resign?” he asked. Eric looked at him, clearly floundering for some kind of answer.

“We wouldn’t be able to do it without you,” he said, helpless to say anything else. He knew fair well how ridiculous it sounded, but also knew, that for him anyway, it was true. He looked at his partner …one of his partners and wondered how long it had taken for him to realize that Ryan was part of the team, part of his team. That he couldn’t imagine a team without Ryan anymore – or at least, a team that functioned well.

Ryan looked at him skeptically and Eric felt his stomach fall. “You did perfectly fine without me before I arrived – you just had more work to do. And you can always just hire somebody else to do the job, be part of the team. Anything else would be an improvement,” he added, bitterly. Eric looked at him then, and wondered about the pain that they had unwittingly caused one of their team. An inexplicable feeling wound its way around him.

“Even then, it probably won’t stop just because you quit your job,” Eric said, attempting to be reasonable. Ryan turned to look at him his eyes blank, yet full.

“Won’t it?” he asked softly. Eric stared at him for a few moments, the feeling of dread suddenly clicking into place.

“You think it’s one of us, don’t you?” he said, almost unable to believe the words that he was saying. The others drew in quick breaths, all waiting to hear the answer.

Ryan stared resolutely at the corner of Horatio’s desk. He said nothing. Calleigh placed the note back with the others.

“You thought it was us? Which one did you think it was then, me? Eric?” she snorted skeptically.

Ryan continued to say nothing. There was nothing to say.

He watched as an expression of shock and simmering anger made it’s way onto the blonde’s pretty face. “Are you saying that you thought Eric and I could do something so underhanded and cruel?”

Ryan hesitated, briefly glancing at Eric’s no less shocked, but nevertheless calmer face. “Yes.”

“You, you really thought it was us?” Calleigh questioned, horrified.

“What else was I supposed to think?” he asked tiredly. “I don’t have any family members besides my uncle Ron who would attempt to harm me over a, by the way, nonexistent fortune. The places these notes have been put indicate that it’s someone inside this building. And you hate me.” He shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. It was a nervous habit that he thought he’d broken long ago, back in college.

“We don’t. We don’t hate you,” Calleigh protested, weakly. The rest of the team nodded along with her.

Ryan smiled a wry smile. “Don’t worry – I can handle the truth.”

Horatio waved his hand, silencing any protests from the rest of the team. “I’ll have a detail put on you. Actually, better yet, you will stay with another member of the team.”

The others nodded, decisively. Ryan opened his mouth, ready to complain when Eric stood forward. “He can stay with me.”

“Good.” Horatio smiled grimly. “It’s settled then.”

“But,” Ryan stuttered, “my things! I can’t just leave them. And my house! And I’ll be resigning anyway,” he finished off.

Horatio waved the objection off. “Needless to say, I will not be accepting this resignation letter. We do not have a replacement at this time anyway, and it is your responsibility to uphold this post until we find one. In the meantime, as long as you are still part of the team and under my supervision, you will stay with Eric for your safety.”

Ryan nodded reluctantly, each of them then filing out of the room. They worked diligently throughout the day, trying to act normal. It was only towards the end that Ryan abandoned his pretense of apathy, and began to watch the clock nervously.

Click.

His shift had ended. And so had Eric’s. He turned around, just as Eric approached him.

“Eric.”

“Ryan.” The other walked up to him. “You can always switch you know, and go with Alexx or Calleigh.” He spoke seriously, and Ryan understood, realizing that Eric was giving him a choice.

Ryan twiddled his fingers. “No, I think… I think it’d be better if I went with you.”

Eric smiled. “Then grab your things,” he instructed gently. “And I’ll drive us home.”

Nameless: Chapter 3

Wed, 15 Aug 2007 12:44:05 GMT

NAMELESS

Chapter 3

Ryan Wolfe wasn’t having a good day. He hadn’t been sleeping well, just because he never slept well these days. He’d run out of the door on an empty stomach because the mailman had managed to break his post box and he’d spent the hour before work fixing it. Then he’d had to deal with a head trauma case (which he’d found just did not go well with an empty stomach – contrary to logic, it seemed that having nothing to puke up just made the entire sensation even worse) and had had a dizzy spell when he’d reached DNA. This had naturally prompted both Valera and Calleigh’s snapping at him which hadn’t improved the mounting pressure inside his head one bit.

Naturally of course, there was now…this.

He replayed the scene in his head.

He’d been walking across the corridor to an interrogation room when he’d bumped straight into Eric.

He crashed onto the floor, a heavy body landing across of him, forcing the air out of his mouth. He moaned, colours reaching out and blinding his eyes as he lay on the floor, catching his breath.

“Jeez, Wolfe, watch your step man!” Eric said, getting up. Ryan clutched his head with one hand, as he got up with the other. He didn’t notice a piece of paper floating out of his pocket.

Eric snatched it up quickly, reading it out loud.

Ryan:

Sweet dreams.

Eric whistled. “Whew… got a new girlfriend, Wolfe?”

Ryan snapped his head around as the surrounding people started snickering and wolf whistling. He paled, then snatched the note away from Eric’s hand.

“It’s not like you don’t know about it, Eric,” he spat, even as he plastered a smile on his face. Eric looked at him, a puzzled smirk on his face.

“Why would I keep track of your girlfriends, Wolfe? It’s not like I like you or anything.”

Ryan stared at him then, brittle smile flickering on his face. Eric had almost started feeling guilty when he’d turned abruptly and made his way to DNA, saying a soft:

“No, I suppose not.”

Then he’d walked away, finishing up the case and ended up here.

A sense of reprieve overtook him as he realized that he could relax – that the case was finished. He’d been staggering around all day, unable to rest even as his body screamed at him to sit down, to breathe, to unwind. Allowing his shoulders to slump just that tiny little bit, he walked towards the break room. And stopped, as he heard the gentle peals of laughter that was so typical of Calleigh and the low warm tones of Eric’s voice when he was comfortable. He let himself hear the soft cozy atmosphere of the conversation, knowing that if he walked in, that same atmosphere would be torn into shreds. He let himself listen for a while, and then turned and walked away. He found himself walking towards the locker room then, towards one sanctuary that no one interrupted.

Opening the door, he walked towards his locker. Unfolding a handkerchief – and acknowledging that he would have to clean the thing later – he sat down on it. He let himself lean against the lockers, eyes gradually closing. He was just so tired. He hadn’t been sleeping the past few days, was running on pure will power. He wasn’t allowing himself to make mistakes – and it was taking its toll on the daily headaches, the stress, the worries. He was near end point, he knew, but for the sake of his dignity – the one thing he had left in this place – he would not go down.

When he’d come here, it was because he had finally had a chance to do what he wanted to do. Not to mention that the pay was better – it would help in paying towards his Masters. He’d known that it wouldn’t be easy what with the circumstances, but had ultimately believed that he would just become a part of the team – Speedle and all – later.

Half a year later it hadn’t happened, and now he was trapped. He had to stay in Miami for his uncle, but he could not work in the police force any longer. Even without the anonymous letters pouring poison into every corner of his life, there was still all the rubbish that faced him at work.

He let out another breath, and closed his eyes, hiding from everything.

Just a few more minutes…there isn’t a new case yet anyway…

He let the coldness of the lockers soothe his headache, and then gradually, slowly, fell asleep.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“Let him sleep.”

Calleigh looked at him askance. “What?!”

Eric huffed a sigh. “He’s tired! Look at him,” he said, pointing at the younger CSI. Even Calleigh had to admit that the black circles claimed an intense need of sleep.

“We can do the case on our own – we’ve done it before,” he added softly. His eyes were still on Ryan's huddled figure - the piercing eyes were covered now, and Ryan's hair was curling into his neck. Calleigh threw him a strange look, but didn’t question his proposition.

“I’ll do the autopsy,” she said conclusively, and then she walked out of the door. Eric watched her go, face unreadable, then looked back at Ryan’s sleeping face. Every so often Ryan would scrunch up his eyebrows and huddle, as if he were cold.

Face softening, he took off his jacket, the one he kept in his locker for the lab’s freezing air conditioner and carefully tucked it in around Ryan’s shoulders.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

When Ryan woke up, his head was still pillowed by icy metal, and his butt was still sitting on his handkerchief. But he was warm. So warm… Eyelashes still flickering, he stretched but quickly stopped, catching the heavy garment that was covering him before it hit the floor.

What on earth…

He held it up to his still-squinting eyes, tracing the fabric with questing fingers. A man’s jacket, and Eric’s style. His face coloured with both amusement and disbelief, and he held the garment to his nose breathing in Eric’s warm tones, Eric’s comforting air. He could only do that here, he knew – Eric would never let him near him ordinarily. He sighed. Sometimes, he wished…

He shook his head, and stood up, folding the jacket, ignoring the strange blush he could feel on his cheeks. Eric was a co-worker – one that hardly treated him civilly. There were no chances there.

He held the jacket to his nose, guiltily breathing in Eric’s cologne once more, then started walking towards the lab.

“Had a nice nap?”

Ryan felt himself redden slightly. What a picture he must have been, found sleeping at work in the locker room! How pathetic. “I – I, I… that is…”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Eric said, soothingly. He couldn’t help but feel like he was cooing to some long abused, frightened animal. “Everyone makes mistakes sometimes.”

However, his attempts at consolation only seemed to make the other more tense, the shadows of doubt in the other’s eyes increase ever further. “No they don’t.”

Eric looked at him incredulously. “What do you call me and Marisol’s problems? Calleigh and her father?”

Wolfe answered readily. “A temporary misjudgment and family-related personal problems.”

Eric placed a hand on his hip. “Well, those are mistakes,” he said, aggravated.

Wolfe looked at the floor, losing eye contact with him. Eric cocked his head to the side, intrigued with this new, hesitating, insecure colleague of his. “I’m not allowed to make mistakes.”

“And why not?” Eric said, just about having enough. The only reason why he wasn’t walking away now was because it was so out of character for Ryan to admit anything about himself.

“I just…everyone hates me enough,” he said, looking down at his shoes. “I guess I just don’t need to have anyone coming down on my work too.”

Eric snorted, and was just about to completely dismiss the statement of anybody coming down on Wolfe’s work, when he stopped short.

After all, hadn’t they come down on his work before? How many times had they attacked him without giving him time to explain? How many times had Wolfe had the chance to come to them and actually ask about something he hadn’t understood?

Wolfe had been on the team for half a year and still nobody called him Ryan except Alexx. Calleigh did, sometimes, but it was rare. They rarely talked with him in anything but a condescending tone, and when they didn’t it was usually with something worse, something accusatory. How had he, in any way, been made to feel welcome?

The answer was that, of course, he hadn’t been. Ryan hadn’t been welcome. Since the first day there had been a line drawn between Ryan and the rest of the team. And Ryan couldn’t have crossed it even if he had tried, which he hadn’t. He hadn't complained at all, had only assisted them, time and again proving his worth as a CSI, proving that he was more than capable. He hadn't tried to overtake anybody's place. He hadn't tried to conquer, claim or push anyone over. He'd only, really, done his job.

Which was in fact, really rather the worst part of the entire deal, Eric realized. Ryan had understood. Ryan had quietly helped them out on all the cases, had acted normal, had only antagonized them outright when their behavior affected their work.

They'd given him hell, and he'd returned it with comprehending.

Eric found his voice.

“We don’t…we don’t hate you.”

Ryan looked at him doubtfully. Eric struggled. “It’s just… been hard. We… it isn’t your fault.”

Ryan’s eyes softened and he smiled tentatively. “Thank you,” he said, meaning it. They smiled at each other awkwardly for a moment or two.

“Well, um, do you want to help me with the fingerprints?” Eric said, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah, okay,” Ryan replied shyly, rubbing just beside his nose. Involuntarily, Eric reached for his wrist, enclosing it gently.

“Hey, no rubbing there, remember?” he said, indicating the eye surgery with a nod of his head. He grinned a little as he saw the blush from before happily decorate Ryan’s cheeks yet again. He let his fingers linger as he pulled them away from the other’s wrist, unable to do otherwise as the pink skating across Ryan’s cheekbones deepened. He couldn't ever remember Ryan this shy.

“Shall we?” he said, using those same fingers to gesture towards the door. Ryan nodded, and they exited together.

He didn’t know why he had admitted something so personal to Eric. Maybe it was the eye surgery nibbling at his brain, or maybe it was the anomaly of Eric and Calleigh actually doing something nice for him for once, instead of attacking him on each and every point. It was then that he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper to fold them properly. Pieces.

Pieces?

Ryan:

Ever wonder if Speedle isn’t the only reason you’re not part of the team?

Paling, he stuffed the pieces of paper back into his pocket, hurrying to catch up to Eric. Although...he couldn’t help but glance at Eric as he did. Because what if it were Eric? It had to be someone here, to know his locker, to place notes in his pockets. What if it were any of them? Calleigh? Alexx even. They all seemed so honest, so bright, but...

Maybe it was just him? Maybe it was him that was so despicable. He didn't know.

And even as he tried to bask once more in the remembered warmth of Eric’s jacket, the morbid darkness of doubt wove its way into his mind…and he could not believe.

Sat, 30 Jun 2007 12:33:22 GMT

Nameless: Chapter 2 (3/12?)

Title: Nameless
Writer: Aphena
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Category: AU (sort of), romance
Pairing: Eric/Ryan
Rating: R (just in case)
Warning: Nailed spoilers, mentions of Erica Sykes.
Summary: Anonymous spiteful letters are being sent to Ryan. But why? And who is sending them?
Disclaimer: Do not own CSI: Miami.

Chapter 2 (3/12?)

NAMELESS

Chapter 2

Ryan rubbed his eyes as he entered the lab. He hadn’t been sleeping well the past few days.

Umph.

“Sorr –“

“Watch it, Wolfe!” snarled the receptionist that he’d accidentally bumped into. He stepped backwards, surprised. Usually everyone treated him with ignorance or with cool contempt – but never with high ferocity.

“Jeez, what’s up with her?” he muttered, attempting a smile at Valera. He looked in amazement as she stood abruptly, sweeping up some papers and strode off.

“It’s been half a year,” Valera snipped as she walked past. “Have a little respect!”

Ryan stepped back a little as she swept past, shunning him. Setting his jaw a little more, he walked towards Trace. No wonder the whole team was being so hostile today: it was a half-year after Officer Speedle’s death. He let a sense of relief wash over him as he realized that for today he could banish the omnipresent fear of not being enough.

Seeing that everything was still packed and piled up, he furrowed his eyebrows. Eric should have gotten here before him – where was he? Sighing, but realizing that today was not a day to get upset about the team – he started working on fingerprints, DNA, whatever he could get his hands on. He worked fast and before long, had gotten all the evidence down. Figuring that Eric would want to get in with the final confession – he hadn’t appeared yet – he went to find him. Somehow, his feet took him to the locker room, though his first thought had been to go to the morgue. He opened the door slowly, already knowing by instinct that this was the right place – that Eric was here.

Opening the door, he stepped inside quietly. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see the other there, leaning against the lockers, head in his hands. He watched him silently for a few moments before speaking.

“Eric?” he called softly.

Eric lifted his head out of his hands. Then, as if realizing exactly whose voice it was that had called him, he growled. “Go away, Wolfe.”

Ryan continued standing, fidgeting awkwardly. Finally, he sighed a little, looking up again.

“Why don’t you tell me a little about Officer Speedle? Maybe it’ll help,” he said softly.

“You?” Eric laughed harshly, a sneer coming onto his face. It made him ugly, Ryan noted dully. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Ryan stared at him, feeling the fury come upon him in waves, until he was shaking and his fists were clenched by his sides. Then, just as quickly, it broke, and all he could feel were the floods of disappointment, of rejection, of sadness, taking its place.

“You’re right,” he said, smiling sadly. “I don’t.” Then he walked away, Eric’s startled eyes following him as he headed off.

God how dare he? How dare they? He’d worked so hard for them. He’d tried so hard, so many times. All of them shunned him. All of them ignored him.

He rubbed feverishly at his eyes.

It was clear that he was there as some sort of tool, not really a part of the team like he had wanted to be.

There was nothing for him here.

He stalked off, moving towards the interrogation room. He got the confession out of the wife easily – it seemed to help that the fury that was curling around him was centering itself into one point, one focus. She’d been taken away quickly, almost in tears, but had surprised him by wrenching herself away from the officers and looking into his eyes.

“Have you never felt like you could have everything if only someone turned around?”

He stared after her, fury dwindling inside him.

Then he took out his mobile phone. He had nothing to lose anymore.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Eric stood, shell-shocked, in the locker room. He couldn’t seem to get his feet to move, even though his mind insisted.

The look on Wolfe’s face… it had been so sad, yet furious at the same time. Wolfe had looked so alive then. Eric hadn’t noticed that he’d become so quiet until he’d been reminded of what Wolfe was like when he’d first joined the team. He couldn’t get the picture of him out of his head, the one of him standing there, tense and bright, and vulnerable.

He stepped out of the locker room, bumping into Alexx.

“Hey, Alexx,” he said, smiling at her. She smiled back.

“Hey, Eric. Where were you?”

He gestured randomly. “Around. Sorry that I’m so late for the autopsy – was Wolfe pissed?” he asked jokingly.

“No, he was actually quite subdued today,” Alexx replied. Eric looked at her in surprise.

“He actually went?” Alexx looked at him questioningly.

“I thought you finished the case? I figured that was him in one of the confessional rooms just a while ago.”

Eric’s face tightened. “He finished the case without me?”

Alexx shrugged, looking annoyed for his sake. “Guess so. I would have warned you, but he was walking towards the locker room a few moments ago and so I thought…”

Eric’s anger deflated. “Oh. I wasn’t…really listening,” he finished off lamely.

Alexx looked at him funnily. “Are you alright?”

Eric nodded, a little guiltily though he had yet to understand why. “Yeah, just a little bit tired, that’s all.”

Alexx’s forehead smoothened yet again. “Alright, don’t tire yourself out.”

She walked away, Eric looking after her. He turned, heading towards break room, a strange feeling taking up residence inside of him.

I wonder why I feel that something’s wrong?

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

He waited nervously, body unwillingly cradled within the harsh reality of a plastic chair. He noted absently that they used the same kind in their interrogation rooms, the hard plastic always making the suspect flinch and fidget. Now he was the one wriggling uncomfortably in the chair, waiting for his verdict – he couldn’t help but feel a little bit more sympathetic for the innocent people that they had questioned back at the lab.

“Mr. Wolfe?”

Ryan started, getting out of his chair. The doctor waved him back, and he sat down again.

She shook her head compassionately, and instantly a numbing sensation made its way around his body and he tightened his fingers in his lap.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wolfe.”

He sat, rigidly.

“Your eye’s gotten re-infected. You’ll have to have a corneal transplant. I’ll help you get in touch with the eye bank.”

He wrung his fingers, his nerves already making him start examining his fingers and nails for any sign of dirt or imperfection.

“Can’t you just prescribe another antibiotic?” She shook her head.

“You need to have the surgery, Mr. Wolfe. I’m sorry. The infection is too serious.”

Ryan sat, stunned. He needed a surgery. For his eye.

What if it didn’t work? What if the infection continued getting stronger after surgery? What would he do then? Would he lose his eyesight? Would he lose his job?

He could hear the doctor continue her ramble, so he nodded – hopefully with appropriate timing – and made noncommittal noises. When she’d finished, he got up and walked himself to his car. Then he drove home.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The next day he went to work as normal, trying to hide his hurt and worries. The doctor had phoned him last night – his surgery, a corneal transplant, would take place approximately three weeks later with an ophthalmologist, a friend of hers. She had informed him – gently – of the risks involved. There was an admittedly large 80% success rate, a rejection of the cornea responsible for the remaining 20%. Even then, it was only a small matter to adjust it – and they’d be monitoring him for the months afterwards.

He was quieter than usual – of that there was no doubt. He only hoped his work and efficiency were up to standard. He’d tried phoning Erica to tell her the results of his appointment but she was out of the country for a while. In the end he had only called up a few of his friends in patrol to ask then to look over his house for a bit, although he had avoided telling them why. There was no need in making others worry after all.

He moved towards the break room, desperate to grab a coffee to soothe yet another headache.

“Ryan!”

Ryan turned around reluctantly. He really didn’t want to answer whoever it was calling him. Seeing that it was Alexx though, made it a bit better. Alexx’s mothering side overruled any antagonism towards him as Speedle’s replacement and it had overflowed with his eye injury. She was the only one apart from Horatio here who even pretended to care.

“Baby, you look tired. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Alexx.” Ryan smiled distractedly. I just have an eye surgery which might not go well. That’s all. “I’m just a bit tired.”

“Well go get some rest then, big boy,” Alexx said, smiling. Ryan smiled back despite himself. He doubted that she realized how much it meant to him when she called him names such as ‘baby’. His mother had never had a chance to call him that – driven away by his father like she was. Realizing that he didn’t need or want the coffee after all, and that his shift was ending anyway, he switched directions towards his locker.

Rubbing his aching shoulders, he managed to open his locker without straining anything else. Getting his things out, he almost didn’t notice the little piece of paper covered in tiny typed letters float past his arm. Almost. Unfolding it carefully, he read the message.

Ryan:

Shouldn’t you have put down that badge by now?

Ryan closed his eyes.

Another one. Someone really didn’t want him here. He’d already written out his resignation letter. It was tucked neatly away in one of the drawers of his bedside table. He was planning to give it to Horatio towards the end of the month, after the eye surgery – it would be a good reason, he had thought, no matter the outcome of the operation. The team could hardly think less of him anyway – he knew that they had thought he was the mole back when Horatio had told him to investigate. And he knew that they shunned him for Natalia’s exposure.

He buried his head in his hands.

And for the first time in his life he admitted to himself that he didn’t know what to do.

Are You Reading CaRWash?!

Thu, 28 Jun 2007 14:09:29 GMT

Icon dedication fic

Title: Are You Reading CaRWash?!
Writer: Aphena
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Category: AU (sort of), romance, HUMOR, crack?
Pairing: Eric/Ryan
Rating: PG-13 to R?
Warnings: Mentions of sex and other pairings. And pervy characters. Also mentions of The Documentary. Perhaps slight OOCness.
Summary: Oh, come on, like the title doesn't say it all!
Disclaimers: The icon is nohope02's. The characters and CSI: Miami are NOT mine.

Dedication fic to nohope02's icon which just inspired this fic out of the blue (nohope02 is also coincidentally the first reviewer of my first CSI: Miami (CSI anything really) story). Love that picture! Made me laugh eons. Apologies for my wacky humor: I hope you manage to appreciate it.

Are You Reading CaRWash?!

Ryan smiled happily as he sauntered into Trace. Not only had he just finished wrapping up another case, but he’d woken up that morning with a very enthusiastic lover in his bed.

He descended into memories of rumpled bed sheets, navy silk ties and pink fluffy handcuffs with intense pleasure.

Oh yes. Life was very good.

Feeling overly joyful, he whistled Lady Marmalade as he walked down the corridors. Checking first that there were no other cases to work at for the moment – Florida was apparently having a bout of innocence for now – he went into the break room to find his lover. Spotting Eric near one of the laptops, he walked towards him, placing his arms upon Eric’s shoulders. He pecked his boyfriend on the cheek, then turned towards the screen to see what the now panicking Latino was looking at.

And stared.

And flung his arms away from Eric.

“Are you reading CaRWash?!” he squawked in shock.

“Yeah,” Eric said, sighing. Then he looked at Ryan’s gaping mouth and smirked. He reached towards Ryan to pull him in for a kiss – only to have Ryan leap away like a lily-livered frog.

“B-but – that’s a Calleigh and me pairing, he said, still staring at the fanfiction in abject horror. He looked at the fanfiction in disgusted curiosity. “Are we kissing?!” he asked, aghast.

“Yes,” said Eric matter-of-factly.

“B-but… why?!” Ryan wailed uncomprehendingly.

“Hey, you and Calleigh are two very beautiful people,” Eric replied, wrapping his arms around Ryan from behind. “Besides,” he added, resting his head on Ryan’s shoulder, “The public likes the pairing more.”

Ryan frowned. Since the documentary on the lab, senior officers had decided to create a mini series displaying real-life forensics science, with the Miami-Dade day shift CSIs in the centre. Donations had been numerous and plentiful, although Horatio had thankfully put his foot down on a ‘sequel’.

Nevertheless, it had already been enough to further the imaginations of a persistent few: fanfiction on Ryan, Eric, Calleigh, Natalia and even Horatio had seemingly sprung out of nowhere. A chortling and good-humored Alexx had been kept exempt through her marriage, though she often made up for it by her appearance in stories as the notorious mother hen.

“Still, why would you read CaRWash?” Ryan whined.

Eric glanced around the room nervously. “Well…all these stories… they’re kind of inspiring.”

“Inspiring?!” Ryan screeched, wondering if his boyfriend had been misplaced by an alien.

“Yeah,” Eric said, sheepishly. “See,” he said, clicking onto the story and scrolling down. “They put you in a ton of sex scenes with her.”

“What do you mean sex sc – wait, is that position even possible?” Ryan said, reading down the page.

“Oooh, yes,” Eric said, with satisfaction.

“Whoa, I didn’t even know that existed!” Ryan exclaimed, now intrigued despite himself.

“Mm hmm. And we can try it aaall out…” Eric whispered into Ryan’s ear. Ryan shivered.

“So…when does our shift end again?”

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

One week later.

Eric ambled into the break room, grinning merrily. He hadn’t any current cases to solve, and his start to the morning had been beyond brilliant. He would have to persuade Ryan to become his breakfast again another time. Maple syrup seemed to taste so much better on Ryan’s skin – and who knew that Ryan could moan so much when using butter as a lubricant?

He smiled as he saw his lover, seated at a laptop screen. He headed towards him, aiming to get in a searing good-afternoon kiss, when he stopped, stared and backed away from the screen.

“Are you reading – CaRWash?!”

Ryan turned around, smiling. “Oh, hey Eric.”

Eric continued staring. “C-c-caRWash?!”

“No kiss?” Ryan asked, pouting. He turned back to the screen. “Well technically, there’s also RyanNat, EricNat, EC, RyErica…” He paused. “I’m not reading any Horatio anything though – that’s just plain gross.”

Eric gaped.

“I mean,” Ryan continued, “If we’re going to do this research thing, we might as well do it properly, right?” He smirked.

Eric shook his head, then walked up to his lover. He scanned the screen quickly, but it took only a few milliseconds for his attention to turn back towards the gorgeous being in front of him.

“Research huh?” he said, kissing his boyfriend briefly at the connection between neck and shoulder. “How about we further the stages of this research in privacy?”

“I was only waiting for you,” Ryan answered, grinning. They walked out of the break room, holding hands with eyes that promised a good deal more than justice for those who committed crimes. In any case, the day was young yet.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

As the two lovers walked out of the room, a dark shadow lifted itself from another screen, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. A single hand tucked blond hair behind an ear as Calleigh cautiously checked that all were safely out of the room before she turned back to the screen, giggling silently. She stopped herself quickly – it wouldn’t do to get distracted now. After all, her reviewers needed to know the next chapter to A Mysterious Affair.

Now… to make Ryan wear the French maid outfit or for Eric to do a spontaneous strip tease?

Really. They didn’t appreciate her half enough.

Nameless: Chapter 1

Thu, 28 Jun 2007 14:05:39 GMT

Nameless: Prologue (1/12?)

NAMELESS

Chapter 1

“Hey, Ryan!”

A CSI with fluffy brown hair spun around. “Hey, Erica!” he said, smiling. He waved to the reporter, grinning cheerfully for the first time in the day. He could already sense Eric's cold glare burning its way into his back, but he ignored the Latino as best as he could. It was almost the end of his shift anyway. He needed his lunch.

“You going to finish up some time soon?” the blond asked, smiling at him.

“Uh...” he looked at his watch. “Yeah, pretty soon, actually. Wanna wait?”

“Sure,” she said, dropping into one of the chairs nearby.

“'Kay, I'll be right with you,” he said, grinning as he put away the last pieces of evidence used to close the case. The boxes of photos would just have to be copied for court use later. He'd had about enough of everything and everyone at work today.

He strode quickly to his locker, wrenching the thing open and then getting his things. He'd been on secondary call that day and had been hauled in when one of the others hadn't answered their call. He'd gotten out of bed reluctantly, but had taken on the crime scene with the same doggedness that he always had.

He turned around, ready to enjoy the rest of his day off.

“Still selling little tidbits to your pet reporter huh, Wolfe?”

Ryan stiffened and stopped. Pausing a little, he continued walking. “For your information, Delko, Erica and I are friends, and nothing more.”

“She doesn't seem to think so, Wolfe.” Ryan gritted his teeth – he could almost hear Eric's smirk. He turned to face him.

“Just drop it.”

Then he left the building, Erica following him without a sound.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

“So... guess working relationships are a bit hard right about now, huh?” Erica said, opening up the packaging surrounding her sandwich.

“That is an understatement,” he said, sighing a little. He wrinkled his nose at the generous amounts of Thousand Island sauce that was dripping down her sandwich paper, suppressing the urge to clean it up.

“It's been nearly half a year though. They haven't let up?” Erica said concerned.

He shook his head, quelling yet another sigh. Today had been particularly hard – the others had assumed that he would have the same expertise as Speedle had had in Trace. He hadn't of course, and there had been incredulous stares and a few condescending comments when something that had been school's play for the dead had been a lesson in humiliation for him.

He had needed to get out of there – he was grateful to Erica for helping him do so. She had turned into a good friend over these few months.

It had happened quite suddenly – their relationship had always been tumultuous and both had been very tentative with this sudden side of friendship that neither had had any previous chance to explore with the other. He had met her in university – they'd been mere acquaintances then, and after that they'd bumped into each other in an old reunion. They'd passed quickly through the stages of just-for-sex to hard edge animosity. Now, fact being stranger than fiction, they had gone against all odds to become friends.

He smiled in irony.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Red. Blue. Dips of brown, and bronze. He could see the door knobs sticking out towards him, twisting, turning, mutating into blurs.

“Ryan?”

Melting, melting into one muddled mess of glinting brown.

“Ryan.”

He was reaching forward, forward, to grasp the door knob that kept dodging his fingers – and then he was falling...

“Ryan!”

Falling... falling...

“Ryan!”

There.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

He opened his eyes slowly, light still feeling like a knife, gouging out his sight.

“Ryan, are you alright?!” The feminine voice anxious and panic-stricken, so Ryan attempted to open his eyes.

“Ryan! Oh Bejeebus... what am I supposed to do?!”

“Bejeebus?” Ryan said, smiling crookedly. “And I just need to sit – up...”

He hissed in slight pain as he slowly raised himself from the floor. A quick check of his surroundings promptly confirmed that he was still at his house. In fact, he was still sitting on his own doorstep.

“Are you okay? Here, I'll help you get inside.” Erica knelt down, obviously offering her shoulder for support. Looking at her dubiously – he hadn't exactly been pleasant to her in the past – but realizing that there was absolutely no way he would be able to stand on his own, he reached out a hand to lean on her. Gently, she helped him into the house and onto his sofa.

“Is there anything I should get you? Water? Meds?”

If he wasn't feeling the pounding headache that he was now, he would have been amused at the anxiety she was displaying.

“There's some fast-acting Tylenol in the drawer under the sink of the bathroom, thanks.” He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the light that only seemed to aggravate the pain.

“Here.” She handed him a cup of water and one pill, which he swallowed down quickly. “I thought your eye was better?” she asked, worried.

“Yeah, well, you thought wrong then,” he said, with a dry chuckle. He sighed wearily. “Sometimes I have double vision. And I get a lot of headaches.”

She watched him carefully, watched his expressions change. When she'd first met him, his face had been honest, if not open. Now it hid many things – many fears, many worries, many, many little hurts and indignities that he had suffered over time.

“Why haven't you tell anyone?”

He smiled grimly and looked out the window towards the blaring Miami sun. “I didn't want to worry anyone.”

She held her tongue, though the word ‘liar' was upon her lips. “Well, next time tell me. I don't always bite people's heads off.”

He looked at her, eyes still a little out of focus, but sharp as steel. Then they softened, relaxing, and for a moment she regretted that she could truly never be anything more with Ryan than what she was now.

“Okay.”

And then that moment passed because any dunce could see that Ryan needed something else right now and no one else was there to give it to him. And though she was a bitch, she was still human – she'd be that something he needed for Ryan.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Now their relationship was better than ever – though the team still seemed to believe otherwise of it. Ryan didn't feel the need to correct them – there would be no difference in their behavior towards him. They would continue to show their cool, professional, slightly antagonistic side and nothing would change.

But he had a friend now; friends even, for the ones in Patrol hadn't forgotten him. They dropped by now and again, like Erica did, to see how he was getting on. It made scenes easier to process, to have someone friendly there, even if it wasn't the person nearest to him, wasn't his partner. He smiled at Erica as he finished his donut.

“You're eating less than me,” she commented, frowning. “Is that even normal?”

“Ah, I'm not that hungry in the afternoons,” he said, waving away the remark.

She finished her own lunch, still frowning at him. “You've lost weight.”

Ryan shrugged. “I started volunteering at an orphanage a week ago – maybe that's it?”

Erica raised an eyebrow, but left it. Ryan was obviously uncomfortable with what the past few months had done to him physically as well as mentally. They flagged a waitress, and then a few minutes later, parted ways.

Half an hour later, Ryan arrived home. His house was nothing special – it had been something his parents had left behind for him – but it was home. It had two floors, was a medium size. He entered it, his posture relaxing, the tension easing out of him. Going to his bedroom to change into clothes that were more comfortable, he opened his wardrobe. Then frowned.

He turned sideways, towards his bedside table.

The little table that was supposed to be immaculate, that was supposed to be in complete order, like the rest of his house.

The table that had a note on it.

Forehead crinkling in puzzlement, he looked around the house at the various doors and windows. All were locked, and he scratched his head in confusion – after all, his OCD wouldn't have let him just leave the note there.

He picked up the note, unfolding it, and read it quickly.

Ryan:

Not as good as Speed, are you?

The note dropped.

Ryan drew in a sharp breath, feeling the jagged edges of each word grate inside of him. The ball of broken glass that he now constantly carried inside of him grew larger, sharper, cutting him apart. He'd known that they hated him. He'd walked through work like this everyday. Knowing it, breathing it, but still always trying to deny the knowledge that kept soaking into his very being everywhere he went.

He hadn't thought that they would write him a letter about it, but apparently they had. They had hated him enough to do it – although he had never thought that they would be so underhanded as to present it to him unsigned, he was in no doubts upon who it was that had left this letter on his table. That they had never been to his place didn't matter – all of them had access to each other in the department's database.

Placing the letter into the table's drawer, he slowly showered, trying to put off the decision that he had been mulling over in the past few weeks. Only when he'd changed, and was sitting on his bed, staring at the drawer where the letter was, did he silently answer the question that had been plaguing him for so long.

He'd write the resignation letter tomorrow, and give it to Horatio by the end of the month.

It was only then that he let himself fall into a slow, restless sleep.

Nameless: Prologue: 1/12

Thu, 28 Jun 2007 14:01:55 GMT

Nameless: Prologue (1/12?)

NAMELESS

Prologue

“Officer down! Officer down!”

Chaos. That is the first thing that comes to your mind. It doesn't even come out as a word, but as a feeling, something you are picking out of the atmosphere like a spider picks out a predator nearby. You get out of the car, and immediately crouch behind the door.

“Backup requested! Repeat, backup requested!”

Ducking every so often, eyes rapidly scanning the scene for attackers, gun shooting periodically.

“Three fully armed males at 32nd Court!”

Then eyes flicking up just in time to see the pointing of a gun at a comrade's chest, aiming to speckle a white shirt with red. And reacting instinctively, firing once, then twice, and then watching a man fall down.

Down, down, down...

Only to realize that the one fallen down isn't one of your own.

It's one of theirs.

And you killed him.