By Tres Mechante
Summary: At 4:00 a.m., dawn seems far away and thoughts and fears kept hidden in daylight are your only company. Speed POV, H/C implied.
Spoilers: Nothing concrete – if you haven't seen the episode you won't catch it – but possibly a vague foreshadowing. Govern yourself accordingly.
Disclaimer: CSI:Miami, its characters and universe do not belong to me. No infringement is intended. All profits from this story are emotional and psychological in nature – not a financial gain to be found.
A/N: This is a response to Emma's 'Hours' challenge. This is kind of like a stream of consciousness thing – a glimpse into Speed's thoughts at 4:00 in the morning.
I'm suddenly awake. My eyes are open and I am totally alert. Don't even have to check the time – it's 4:00 a.m. Turning my head slightly I can see the clock. Yup. Four on the nose.
I get up because I won't be going back to sleep until sunrise. Without turning on the light I walk through the apartment in a routine that has become ingrained in me over the last few weeks. Bathroom, kitchen – damn forgot to pick up milk, water will have to do – grab the writing pad off the desk, push the big chair to the window.
Looking at my reflection in the glass I can't help but think I'm disappearing. The sleeplessness is bad enough, but the restlessness is driving me nuts. I'm paler that usual, my eyes are just dark, empty places on my face. With a sigh I look away from the ghostly image and sit down.
The last few weeks there has been a feeling of change. It's like I'm going to be going somewhere, leaving here and not come back. Which is crazy because I've been happier here than anywhere else. Still, no denying that itchy feel in my soul. It's that same feeling I had after my best friend died and I just hit the road, searching. Thought I'd come home when I finally hit Miami. People cared, took me under their wing and helped the lost wraith I had been become the man I am.
These kinds of thoughts have been haunting me every morning for more than two weeks. I finally started writing letters to people – not that anyone will ever actually see them – just trying to sort out my thoughts and stuff. I've only got two left, but man they are the hardest. I haven't been able to start, never mind finish them. Funny, but it feels like these last two are the most important ones.
Taking a long swig of water I flip the pad of paper open and look out the window for a moment. I don't need to turn on a light – the glow of the street light outside my window is enough. Here goes.
-o-o-o-
Calleigh,
I'm sitting here wondering how to begin and I guess the best way is to say thank you. So, thank you – for your friendship most of all. I think back to when we dated. I kind of figured sunlight and dark would be natural together. And we had such good times. But that wasn't meant to be and it didn't take me too long to figure it out. I'm pretty sure I saw it before you did. Light and dark do go together, but not as well as sunlight and fire. As much as I resisted the idea, I have to admit you and H are perfect together. Sunlight and fire, both sources of great warmth, both a beacon shining in darkness.
Jesus, I can't believe I just wrote that. Let's put it down to lack of sleep, okay? Seriously, I'm glad you've found each other. You are both so much happier, more complete somehow. I hope one day I will find someone who will be my match the same way as you and Horatio.
And I am so grateful that what you and I had has become this amazing friendship. As much as Eric and I get along and hang out, you are the one who understands me – sometimes better than I understand myself.
Do you know what my most favorite possession is? Besides my bike, I mean. It's the stuffed toy you gave me for my birthday last year. You had been razzing me about being a "gloomy Gus" – said I never seemed to be truly happy because all anyone ever saw for the most part was my dour expression. Do you remember that? I told you that I may not show everything on the outside, but I was perfectly happy and content inside. Then you laughed and called me Eeyore. And for my birthday you gave me a stuffed Eeyore and a "Winnie the Pooh" book about Pooh and all his friends trying to cheer up Eeyore because they thought he was sad. But he tells them he's happy, and what they see is just the way he is.
I love that story. It tells me you understood what I was trying to tell you. You always understand. That's what makes you special, that loving, accepting heart of yours.
Anyway, I don't want to get all weird or sappy or anything, I just want to say thank you for being my friend. For loving me – as a friend – and for accepting me as I am. Part of me wishes we were more, but swear to God, Calleigh, I wouldn't trade our friendship for anything.
Okay I lied. Just one sappy moment: I love you, Calleigh. And it's okay to write this because you'll never see it and I just needed to say it.
Yours always,
Speed
-o-o-o-
Well, that wasn't so bad. I fold the note and put it in an envelope, writing Calleigh's name across the front.
I sip my water, thinking. My pen taps restlessly against the pad of paper as I try to gather my thoughts. This one is trickier. A few false starts but I think I've got it...
-o-o-o-
Horatio,
I've got some things I want to say, but don't quite know how to start so please bear with me because I'm pretty sure it won't make a lot of sense.
Thank you for believing in me. I know you kind of inherited me when you took over and I'm not the easiest guy to get to know. But you never prodded or pushed, just let me know you were there if I needed anything. You remind me of Megan in that way. She always took me under her wing, too.
Thank you for being a mentor, for helping me grow not just as a CSI but as a person. I don't say this to a lot of people, so if I say it I mean it: I look up to you, admire you even. Part of that is respect – for your police work and your record, but mostly because of the man you are. You never stop reaching out to people. No matter how hurt or tired or frustrated you may be, you still have time and energy to touch another life.
That amazes me, because where I will pull back when I'm emotionally wounded, you reach out. I am in awe of you, H. By that example, you have taught me so much. I can never repay you for what you've given – what you give me.
Remember when Wally died? You told me to go home and get some rest, but then you called me and told me to take a couple of days vacation. I just hopped on my bike and took off, wandering, trying to get my head together. On the way back I pulled into this little beach area. It was deserted – not surprising because of all the rocks, but still, a nice place to be near the water. I don't know who was more surprised you or me when I almost tripped over you and Calleigh. God I was so embarrassed. And hurt. I can admit that now because you won't take it the wrong way.
You know Calleigh and I had been together at one time. Anyway, I knew about you two, but coming across the two of you wrapped around each other like that was a hell of a jolt. Man, it was a good thing I wasn't any later. At least you guys still had your clothes on.
I was so set on escape, but you remember what happened next? The two of you just laughed and invited me to join the picnic. You tossed me a soda and Calleigh offered me one of her cookies. And everything just kind of smoothed over. Well, after a while.
That day, if you can believe it, has become one of my favorite memories. The three of us talked and did a little beachcombing. Calleigh was taking pictures like crazy, said she had to break in her new camera. At one point she said all three of us had to be in the picture and she set the timer and came running back in time to wrap her arms around me, you had your arms around her and the three us were immortalized on film.
I've got a copy of that picture on my dresser. It is a visual reminder of what I know inside – you, Horatio Caine, are a gracious and generous man. That was your day with Calleigh, but you were still able to share. In no way was I made to feel like a fifth wheel – not after those first few minutes anyway.
I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you for believing in me, for accepting me as I am and for mentoring me. That's it. Just thank you.
And I am damn glad you're never going to see this because as I read it over, it not only doesn't make sense, it is unbearably sappy! Sorry about that.
Respectfully,
Speed
-o-o-o-
Done. Finally. As I fold the note and seal it in an envelope I glance out the window. Is it getting lighter? Maybe. Doesn't matter. I've done what I need to do.
Standing up and stretching I let a yawn overtake me. Gathering up the letters I add them to the others sitting on my stereo. I wish I knew what to do with them, but for now I'll just leave them there.
I push the chair back into position and head back to bed. I'm tired, like I've been doing hard work or something, and I guess, maybe I have been. Those letters were hard to do, but I feel better now that they are done.
Once back under the covers I feel my muscles relaxing into sleep. I glance at the clock – almost 5:00.
As I drift off I wonder if I should call my folks. I haven't talked to them in a while. They don't really understand that I'm home now. Maybe I'll go up for Thanksgiving – kind of a peace offering. Maybe I should have a party or dinner or something for my friends at Christmas – do some of that reaching out stuff. I might even call that pretty blonde from the coffee shop...
I yawn and stretch before curling up on my side. Well, it's only the end of August. Lots of time to decide. All the time in the world...
--END--
A/N: Yes, I know there are some grammar issues in this story. They are deliberate – all part of that stream of consciousness thing I mentioned in the above notes.