I don't own CSI: Miami or CSI: New York. If I did, I'd have had them crossover more often.

This story occurs right after 7x20 on CSI: Miami and after 5X20 on CSI: New York. Any errors are mine - I don't have a beta for my crossovers yet. Feel free to write me about anything that deviates from canon.

In general, I write all of my stories so they can fit together. This one is definitely a stand-alone, but maybe I'll write more stories in this crossover AU. I'm hoping to get a couple more chapters up before this one is over - we'll see!


Danny Messer fought to lift his heavy eyelids. He'd fallen asleep on the couch again - it was hard to sleep in his bed without Montana there - and he'd given himself a crick in the neck. He was wondering what might have awakened him when he heard the noise again - a quiet but persistent knocking on the front door of his apartment.

"Who the hell could that be?" Danny grumbled to himself. He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in all directions, and wondered aloud where he'd left his glasses. Now that he'd started wearing contacts, he didn't think about his glasses too much - not like before, when he'd always placed them right beside wherever he'd laid his head for the night.

There was a hesitation in the knocking before it resumed, more persistent than before. Danny flicked on a lamp and squinted around the corners of his apartment. "Hold ya horses, I'm comin'," he groused.

After locating his glasses and putting them on with a practiced hand, Danny glanced at the nearest clock. It was nearly one in the morning. Who would be at his door this late? Flack had a key - if he got frustrated enough, he'd just let himself in. Stella, maybe?

A glimpse out the peephole showed a young man nearly identical in height to himself wearing a Boston University sweatshirt and jeans, head bowed, with an arm curled protectively around his stomach. A duffle bag sat at his feet. From the angle, Danny had no idea who the guy was, but he didn't appear threatening. Lost maybe.

He flung the door open. "Hey, buddy, I think you've got the wrong -"

Pain-filled hazel eyes met his, and Danny swallowed the rest of his words. He could see ligature marks around the other man's neck. The bruises were purple, which told Danny that the attack had likely occurred before the man had left home. He travelled a long way in pain then, Danny thought. His friend's eyes closed as the brunette let out a strangled groan.

"My God, Ryan," Danny whispered. He grabbed the duffle and tossed his friend's luggage just inside the front door before throwing an arm around the trembling man and propelling him to the sofa. Once Ryan was safely deposited in his apartment, the blond wrapped his arms around his waist and bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting impatiently for him to regain some composure.

Eventually the dark-haired man opened his eyes. "Hey." His voice was raspy.

Danny shook his head. "Lemme get you some water and you can tell me what the hell happened to you." He brought Ryan a glass of ice water and sat beside the younger man as he drank it. "Did they follow you here? You need police protection?"

Ryan shook his head. "I don't think so." He handed the empty glass back to Danny. "I didn't know where else to go," he admitted. Wincing, he tried to shift into a more comfortable position on the sofa. Danny noticed and frowned.

"You hurt bad?" He didn't really have to ask.

Ryan gave him a pained expression. "It's worse than it looks."

Danny cocked an eyebrow.

"I mean," Ryan quickly corrected in a strained voice, "It's not as bad as it looks." He gave the New Yorker a false smile, which only increased the number of creases in Danny's forehead.

"You've been to a doctor, right?" Danny asked, fingering his cell phone in the front pocket of his sweats. He wasn't surprised when Ryan shook his head no. If anyone with an ounce of medical training had examined him, they wouldn't have let him out of Miami.

"Okay, I'm gonna get my friend Hawkes over here to check you out, all right?"

Ryan nodded and closed his eyes. Danny couldn't tell for sure, but he thought he saw a tear streak down his friend's face. What in the hell had happened to him?

Danny began to pace around the coffee table in his living room. "Hey, Hawkes, listen, I've got a friend over here and he's hurt pretty bad." At Sheldon's questions, Danny replied, "I'm not sure what happened yet, but I know he was beaten and strangled." When Sheldon said he'd be right over, Danny smiled for the first time since Ryan had arrived at his apartment. "Thanks, man. I owe you one."

Silencing the cell phone, Danny walked over to where Ryan sat, motionless, on his sofa. "Ry, Hawkes is gonna be here soon. I'm gonna get my kit and my camera so I can process you before he gets here, okay?"

At this, Ryan lifted his head. "You don't need to process me. We caught the guy. H shot him."

Danny nodded reluctantly. Something wasn't adding up. "So, Horatio knows someone did this to you?" He couldn't keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. If anyone had beaten him up like that, Mac wouldn't have let him leave the hospital, much less the state.

Ryan sighed. "He knows I was held hostage. And that the Russians kidnapped Billy. That's all that matters."

"Billy? Who's Billy?"

"My Gamblers Anonymous sponsor's son." The dark-haired man gave him a sad smile.

"The kid's okay, right?"

Ryan nodded.

Danny cocked an eyebrow at this but didn't say anything. He and Ryan had been friends for a few years now, ever since they had attended a training seminar together. But their friendship only ran so deep. There was a lot that Danny didn't know about the CSI from Miami. He chewed his left knuckle, lost in thought, and his wedding ring caught in the dim light of the lamp.

"When did you get married?" Before Danny could answer, Ryan started to get up, wincing as he did so. "Danny, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I shouldn't have come -"

The wild-haired blond sliced the air with both hands. "You stop that. Sit back down there. My wife's visiting her family in Montana. You ain't interruptin' nothin'."

"Lindsay, right?" Ryan asked, as he eased himself back down on the couch.

Danny smiled. "Yeah. We're having a baby. A baby girl."

Ryan's face finally reflected something other than pain. "Congratulations, Danny."

It was only then that the blond noticed the gap in his friend's smile. "You missin' a tooth, too?" he asked. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the scab on the other's lower lip.

Ryan swallowed and pressed his lips together. He nodded.

Danny sat down next to him again. "Man, they really did a number on you, didn't they?" He reached out to touch his friend's arm. Ryan flinched at the contact before relaxing into his touch. This time, Danny clearly saw a tear slide from his eye before Ryan could stop it.

Fisting his free hand, Danny shook his head slowly. "Bastards." He blew out a breath in frustration before he wrapped a gentle arm around the other man's shoulders. Danny still didn't understand why his young friend had travelled so many miles to see him when he had an entire police department in Miami to help.

But he knew one thing. "You're safe here, Ry. No one else's gonna hurt ya. I got your back." He gave his friend a gentle squeeze. "Couch is open, 'cept when me and Donny wanna watch the game. You can stay here as long as you want."