A/N: Well, I went on a Miami craze a while ago and then after watching season seven, this suddenly appeared in my head and refused to leave. Don't blame me - blame the muse! Which is, um….Miami. (Apparently.)

So, this is strictly AU - it's something that could have happened after the infamous episode 20 in season seven, alright?

Warning - contains swearing, drinking and images of violence, so if you do not like, please don't read and then flame me after for it, as I did warn you.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own any CSI Miami characters or storylines. If I did, I would have one hell of a fun time. ;) Also, I do not own the lyrics below - that honour goes to the awesome Audioslave ("Cochise") and especially to Chris Cornell.

~Passive~

Drown if you want-
and I'll see you in the bottom
Where you crawl…
On my skin…
And put the blame on me …
So you don't feel a thing …

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Drink One.

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You know, when people say that alcohol can help solve problems, normally I laugh at them. Tell them that it's completely wrong - aside from the many, many health problems that drinking can inflict on your body, it also has the added effect of actually making things worse; you know what I mean - you drink to forget your sorrows, fuel anger, feel happy, all that stuff, and you drink to do all those things and for a short period of time the alcohol works. But then it all goes away and you are left in the same position that you were before you started, only this time with a massive hangover and feeling even more miserable. But then your life makes you feel depressed - maybe your job sucks, your partner cheats on you, you just feel worthless - and then inorder to feel better, you once again turn to the drink, regardless of what you will suffer the following day.

A pattern soon becomes a cycle, and that cycle soon becomes a lifeline.

Hence why I usually laugh and say that believing that saying is the same as believing a lie. But most folks I know that follow that saying religiously, learn it off by heart, and then they just ignore me and continue with their drinking. Going down that long, slow and usually painful path and become full - blown alcoholics and end up with everything in tatters. Marriages, jobs, home life - all over. All down the drain. If I was a more sarcastic, cold-hearted kinda guy, I would say that it all went down that drain after coming out of a bottle, but that's not me. At least, I don't say it out loud to my friends. I just think it. Which makes it something completely different, of course. But let me get back to what I was originally saying. After all, a drink can only last a certain amount of time, can't it?

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Drink Three.

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So, any clever people will have no doubt picked up on the fact that I have said quite clearly my views on drinking to help with life's problems, but that I have mentioned the words "normally" and "usually" while rambling on. And if those people are truly clever, then they will quite easily pick up on the fact that those words are therefore implying that I've kinda changed my views on the whole damn thing. And you know what? Those smart people deserve a pat on the back. Hell, since they're so quick off the block, maybe they could be cops. CSIs, to be exact. Maybe they can even have my job - I don't think I deserve it anymore; or at least, that's what everyone I work with must think… But I digress.

So yeah - go ahead, feel free to take it. Go on and apply to Mr. Horatio Caine, see if he'll take you. Keep your head down and your gun clean and you'll be flying. That's what I did and I got the job, so you'll be fine. After that, it's a piece of cake. For then you'll be in his teams of CSIs and have a nice little career all planned out for you. Solving crimes, closing cases, giving grieving families closure - you can do all that. Maybe save lives. Then you'll be thought of as a hero and get to live happily ever after. The end.

The problem is, of course, how you got offered the job in the first place.

Hopefully you will end up being lucky and get offered a job because someone is leaving, retiring, getting transferred… Any of those are fine. You will still be welcomed into the team with open arms. But if someone in the team was killed, someone that was respected and loved, someone who was friends with all the team, well then - that's when things get tough. Since his death leaves a position vacant, the jobs got to be offered up, doesn't it? And then unlucky bastard who gets the job will of course be trying to fill pretty big shoes; be told that he's not as good as so and so, will be treated like the rookie no one wants to work with and of course, be made to feel like he's replacing the recently departed, may they R.I.P.

Where are those smart people? Still there? Well, you lot should've been able to pick up on the fact that by the way I'm ranting on here, that I am in fact speaking from experience. And you lot would be right.

Because I am speaking from experience here. Three years ago I was given the chance to work with Horatio Caine and his CSIs in Miami-Dade's Crime Lab. Three years ago I got the job (thanks to my OCD and shiny clean gun which impressed the Lieutenant) and three years ago I got the new position of "Speedle's Replacement".

Yeah, it was three long years ago. So why hasn't it all got better for me? That's the sixty-four thousand dollar question right there.

The answer? Well, I just happen to be that type of guy where everything goes wrong in his life. I'm sure you know some people like that - the ones who are either rubbing people up the wrong way without meaning it, the ones where people get annoyed at, the ones where just in general, trouble always finds them - and yeah, I'm one of them. But I don't try and improve things, oh no. I always seem to muck things up perfectly well on my own without life dictating it for me, and I also seem to deliberately do so…

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Drink Five.

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So, for a while I was always at loggerheads with one of my co-workers, Eric Delko. The guy instantly took a dislike to me from day one, since I was replacing his best friend on the job. He seemed to go out of his way to pick fights with me, and then relish his triumph when he won the fights or whenever I mucked up. To him it proved a point - that I wasn't good enough for the job. It wasn't true then, but you know, when I reflect on what has recently happened, it may just be true now.

I remember hearing that Valeria had remarked that what we really needed to do was to "go into a room and beat each other up." Well, that never did happen and after I got shot in the eye with a nail gun - a very long story, I'll tell you all about it sometime, but not now - Delko felt responsible

and raced me to the hospital. Since then, we've kinda become friends, but there are still times when we have disagreements, or when he has blamed me for things. Sometimes I see him look at my locker that's besides Speedle's old one, and then he looks at Speedle's and back again, and I then know that he still misses Speed and views me as the replacement still. But I'll take that if that's all there is. I'll take it and be grateful. Like I said, we're friends now.

I get on fine with Calleigh. My first case - right on my first day, too - involved her father, who believed he had run over someone whilst drinking driving, so obviously she wasn't too pleased that a rookie got her dad's case. But, turns out everything went fine and I was able to clear her father of the murder and since that time she's always been there and been pretty supportive of me. She refused to take sides whenever Delko and I got into a fight, meaning that she did care for both of us. I had expected her to side with him, but she didn't, which was nice of her. So yeah, Calleigh's grand to get along with.

Alexx Woods, the medical examiner. Boy, was she distant for the first few weeks of the job; saying that she "didn't need new friends". But then all that changed. She became pretty much a second mother to me - she was there when that bloody nail was in my eye, she was there whenever there was a chance I may lose my sight…When she left, I was upset. Fine, I'll admit it - I was close to tears. I felt like a child, just wanted to hold onto her arm or something and beg her to stay. But she left some good several months ago now. How time flies.

And then there was Natalia. Natalia Boa Vista. I remember saying to her when I first met her -was it really nearly three full years ago? - "is that like the snake?". Her and I were okay for a bit, until I got….Well, when I had to leave for a bit, and then when I took a job as a leading witness I nearly got her into serious trouble over protocol issues and then everything went sour. We're okay now though, but there are times when she makes a reference to something do to with protocols and makes a joke about it, looking right at me. And then I look her in the eyes and see that she still remembers what I apparently did - setting her up in such a way as if to undermine her. It seems she'll never forget it, no matter how friendly we may be.

I can hear you all clamouring to find out why I had to leave. Okay, I'll be honest - I was fired. I was fired, alright? Got caught paying off someone I owed money to on the job - he was a suspect and I tried to cover up for him. Then after that, Horatio HAD to inform Stetler, who took great personal satisfaction with firing me.

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Drink Seven.

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I struggled a lot after that. Skipped from job to job , never settling down and always seeming to rub more people up the wrong way. Just when I thought I could get my old job at the lab back again, it turned out I would have to wait for a long time before I actually could work there again - they had to have this massive review of al my work, conduct… Here the list goes on, but I'm sure you know what I mean. However, this meant that my pay checks were halted - I was broke. Had to take up more crappy jobs, like working in a firing range. I still struggled with financial issues and then I struggled with my gambling, too. It became an addiction; one which I couldn't shake off. I was in danger of losing myself.

What made matters worse was the fact I couldn't hide that fact away from me anymore. I lied about it; people asked me how I was and I said I was fine. I said I was fucking fine! It was the biggest lie I've probably ever told. I would tell someone I was okay, go home and look in the mirror and see myself; actually see myself for what I was. My own face looked back at me in disgust while my very own eyes would gaze at me accusingly.

I would laugh with someone, smile a bit, maybe - to them I was fine. But it was all for show. My perfect, cold façade.

I don't let on to anyone about anything in my personal life. I mean, I'm more of a loner, if I'm totally honest. A lone wolf, if you will…

Oh, what I can do with words. But once again though, I digress.

Whenever I did get my job back, it didn't feel the same. I could almost feel the stares that burned on my back. I knew why I was treated with such difference - I was the one who in many people's eyes should have been kicked out long ago, and yet I kept getting chances. I shouldn't have been there, according to them. Hell, maybe they were right. But the comments and stares still weren't the best to deal with.

So, like I said, I have a habit of rubbing people up the wrong way, making trouble for myself and others…The list goes on. So, you smart people who could get a job as a CSI, do me a massive favour, yeah? Don't take the Ryan Wolfe method when you work - it'll only wind you up in a whole heap of trouble, and quite possibly you'll have to leave your job as well.

A/N - This is a starting chapter of sorts, like a taster. I can promise you that things will liven up in the next chapter! Ryan just has to ramble when he's drinking, doesn't he...

So…Likely or not likely?