Back Home, a without a trace fanfic

BACK HOME

Disclaimer: For the first time in my life, YES I DO OWE EVERYTHING IN THIS STORY (not kidding!). Well, except for the lyrics. Feel free to sue, I'll kick your behind in court.

Author's Note: I know what you must be thinking, 'She finally lost it. It's sad, sad but true...' No. Well, maybe yes, but still. The thing is, I was thinking (isn't that overrated?) about WaT and CSI, and how suspiciously similar their basic romantic plots are. Or at least how some dots connect regarding season 1 (WaT) and Season 3 (CSI).
So this is a generic story. Yes, I know it's either brilliant or completely moronic. I wasn't sure about posting this thing, but my beta reader Dolly (thanx a bunch!) can be very persuasive (especially while threatening to kill me:).
The song is "Bring Me To Life" by Evanescence, from their CD "Fallen" or the "Daredevil" Original Motion Picture Soundtrack.

Rating: As usual PG, to be sure.

Feedback please, I'm begging, especially after this one. Keep in mind that the whole point is not the plot (still, constructive criticism is welcomed) but the idea of a CSI/WaT fanfic that IS NOT a crossover.
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She applied the lipstick and for the first time in what seemed too long looked her reflection straight in the eye. So many things had happened she barely recognized the person staring back from the mirror. It still scared her sometimes but not as much as it had before. At least now things were changing, for better.

She was having a date or so she was supposed to. Tempted to call him to cancel the whole thing for the millionth time that night, she quickly dismissed the thought -- bad habits were hard to break, and taking a step or two back was always easier than leaping forward.

He was already on his way probably. It was the last chance to call it off without having to lie to him in the face, and she had always been a terrible liar. Especially when forced out of fear.

She moved the phone as far as she could before resuming her preparations. Being nervous was understandable given the circumstances. After all, not every day was the self-proclaimed beginning of the rest of her life.

Five minutes later she sat down, deciding that her still profuse efforts at getting ready had started to be more damaging than helpful. Her eyes darted to the picture in front of her and for a moment she wished she had removed it.

It was a picture of the team, nothing too personal. Everyone had a copy. Still, she doubted it had the same effect on them.

The expression in her boss' eyes had always looked haunting to her but it had somehow magnified during the last couple of days. It had become accusing even, specifically after saying yes to their coworker's invitation to dinner.

Her eyes moved from one man to the other. The latter's smile wasn't enough comfort this time - not from an inanimate object -, and she reached to take the frame out of sight.

In the surface she felt tired, sad, and most of all jaded. But deeper inside she wasn't sure she felt something - anything - anymore.

How can you see into my eyes like open doors
leading you down into my core
where I've become so numb
without a soul
my spirit sleeping somewhere cold
until you find it there and lead it back home

The team involved people far more different and distinctive than it appeared to be.

First there was the boss, totally committed to their job to the point of being part of it. He had crossed the line a long time ago making it impossible for his personal life not to suffer.

Then there was the mother who from time to time, as the label indicated, couldn't help but shift her motherly attentions from her own child to the rest of the team.

In the third place came the brotherly type, her big brother, her confidant, her friend. The perfect sidekick - just as useful, just as harmless regarding the leading lady.

Because after all, what would be of a team without a damsel in distress? That was her designated role as much as she hated to admit it. She had aimed for the strong woman stereotype, the smart, and self-sufficient one but sometimes she couldn't help but feel like a plot device - the confused little girl that was meant to heat up the screen and nothing else.

And then came him. The hunk, the charmer. The one the damsels in distress were supposed to fall for. She had bluntly refused to fulfill the aforementioned design of fate, failing miserably to notice that the hero, the star of the show wasn't him. He was just another sidekick. The hero was their boss.

(Wake me up) Wake me up inside
(I can't wake up) Wake me up inside
(Save me) call my name and save me from the dark
(Wake me up) bid my blood to run
(I can't wake up) before I come undone
(Save me) save me from the nothing I've become

The clandestine scent of their relationship had been exciting in the beginning. She had stopped counting the moments spent together under the pretense of working late, the adrenaline pumping its way through her veins.

At that moment she had become a submissive creature, treasuring his every word like drops of wisdom.

But it all had caught up with her eventually. His mindless passing comments had remained only that, insinuations. She had grown tired of reading between the lines too much.

He wasn't more than just a man, and believing otherwise had been her mistake.

He had issues. He had restrains that kept him from taking their pseudo real relationship to the next level. And he obviously wasn't disposed to overcome them, whatever their nature, to make it work. Perhaps he didn't think it was worth.

She wasn't sure about that either. And it had taken her a fair amount of time to realize that beyond all the crap she had accepted from him, she didn't want to settle for a man that would never love her completely. *That* she wouldn't take.

Deep down in her heart, all she longed for was a little bit of normalcy amidst the madness her job forced into her life. The pain and horror she was bound to witness day after day. And 'normal' just wasn't in the menu for them.

Moreover the situation had destroyed whatever virtual normalcy she had in her life, for their sake -- his sake.

There had to be repercussions.

Now that I know what I'm without
you can't just leave me
Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life

Isolation had become her natural habitat. Her social life had come to a full stop. People actually expected the tough attitude: suspects usually got a first-hand preview of her hostile self. She was angry and bitter, and just frustrated most of the time.

Nothing felt good or satisfying anymore. Nothing could soothe her or cheer her up. Sometimes she felt like she was meant to walk the world alone, having no one to lean on, no place that felt like home anymore.

The uncertainty he had subjected her had prevented her from not dating. She had managed to establish a semi-official relationship under his scrutinizing gaze. Despite her constant denial he had tried to express his approval, in the most patronizing way.

But she wasn't fooled. Not for a second.

Because it was also a façade for her. Her inability to create and maintain an emotional link was uncovered, making it impossible for her to come to terms with the reality she lived in.

Her allegedly boyfriend being an idiot didn't help much either.

Still, chances were passing her by. Good chances. As hard as it was for her to accept the fact that most men were interested in her - an aftermath of the constant rejection she felt from him - it was the truth.

She was virtually alone by choice.

It had taken a life-threatening situation to make her see the despair enclosed in both the affirmation and its context.

Her life had been seriously at stake. Coming out of it almost unscathed was a matter of mere luck. But what scared her most was the fact that the perspective of her life ending, at the moment hadn't been dramatically different regarding the life she was leading.

She had almost gotten herself killed by avoiding life altogether. She *had* to be done waiting for her life to start.

And the answer to how to do that had been just in front of her, making sure she wasn't about to use all of the nine lives she had once thought she had. He had been there, caring, worrying, being a friend. Being just him.

So diametrically contrasting to everything the man she supposedly loved stood for.

Common sense told her that reversing the effects implied the need of the opposite to whatever had caused them.

The mutual attraction at the beginning of their working relationship hadn't been lost in the older man who had, consciously or not, kept them from working together more than once.

The sense of rivalry between both men wasn't lost in her either.

Respect was also a reciprocate emotion, above all others, but the disagreements between them were well known among their coworkers. Especially the difference in criteria regarding the autonomy of the younger one.

She had struggled to keep herself from taking sides in the matter. Now she was free to make her choice.

Frozen inside without your touch
without your love darling
Only you are the life among the dead

Letting out a sigh she wondered when she had become the kind of woman that considered a man her last hope at saving herself. Of course, he wasn't just any man.

Desperate to be the person she had been long ago or not, she wasn't about to settle for any man.

But it had been weird for her to realize that what she really yearned for - beyond everlasting promises of undying love - had been right in front of her all along.

A normal man who knew what he wanted and fought for it every step of the way.

Her stubbornness hadn't blinded her senses. She was aware that life rarely offered second chances and it was pretty painfully obvious to her that it was it. She had to take a deep breath and leap.

Because a long time ago she had believed that loving someone could actually feel like freedom, and now she had lost that.

Of course, it was easier said than done as it had always been. What little social skills and experience she had acquired over the years had gone to waste like a fragile deck of cards knocked down by the tiniest gust of wind.

Learning it all over again was scary, even if he had proclaimed himself as the one to walk beside her through the process by asking her out.

But she was determined this time.

For all she knew, it could very well be the last time.

All of this time I can't believe I couldn't see
Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me
I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems
got to open my eyes to everything
Without a thought without a voice without a soul
Don't let me die here
There must be something more
Bring me to life

She finally got up, checking her make up and outfit for what felt like the millionth time. He was five minutes late, and suddenly she wished she hadn't had the time to think and reopen barely closed, still pretty much fresh wounds.

Oddly enough, reliving everything had reassured her decision of going out with him to have a night of good ol' fun.

During the last months she had proved herself, the world and everybody else that she could do great on her own. That she didn't need a man to exist. Now she needed to prove herself that she was actually capable of human interaction.

After all, it wasn't like she was looking for a serious romantic involvement. She felt it was too early for a relationship of that nature and she certainly wasn't ready for that kind of commitment.

And she wasn't counting on it either, not with him for that matters. Not if her assumptions of him having no difficulties to have his way with women were true.

All she wanted from him that night was to be his white knight in armor, something he had proved more than once he could do fairly well.

Two firm knocks shook her out of her reverie, and she opened the door to come face to face with a bouquet of flowers. He lowered them revealing his boyishly handsome face graced with a smile that matched the one that had spontaneously appeared in hers.

Then again, a serious relationship with him was definitely a strong possibility.

- ONCE AGAIN, THE END IS THE BEGINNING.
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Written by Mary S. Be merciful, people. I had to write half the story twice because the darn thing (a.k.a. PC) just decided to not save the changes (the exact moment I finished the story!).