Death Changes Everything

It was Speed who changed everything. Or rather Speed's stupid, pointless, wasteful death. One minute there, looking scruffy and idle as always, but, again as always, seeing everything with his sharp eyes. Seeing the man Horatio had missed. Seeing his murderer while Horatio was still assuming it was just another interview in just another case.

And then Speed fell, and died in his arms.

The very next thing he remembered was looking up to see Calleigh stood there, frozen still. His sweet, loving Calleigh looking like a statue, grief and shock freezing her expressive face into stone. Her eyes, wide and dark and still, frightened him. He'd never seen such a bleakness – or rather, only once. He had seen eyes like that, in the mirror, after Raymond's death. And instinctively, he had gone to her. Yelina was on her way, Eric was almost at the door, Alexx was beside him, but in that moment, all he wanted was Calleigh. To comfort her would heal him.

He gave her the guns. He told her the secret he would tell no-one else – that Speed's gun was faulty. He told her knowing she would hide it, conceal, keep the words between her and him. Not IAB, not anyone would worm the answers out of her. She could always keep secrets, he knew that. Her father's drunkenness, Hagan's treatment of her. But he'd always found his way in, just as somehow, he always found himself telling her the truth.

Well, almost the truth.

She took the guns and left, and he felt her leave, wishing he could follow her, follow that too-straight back, that still golden curtain, into the sunlight, away from the death, and the ripping apart of his team.

But he had Tim to see to first.

Two hours ago, he could have sworn that if something bad, something truly awful happened, it would have been Yelina he would turn to. But now he brushed past her, barely seeing her. Not listening to the voice that would try to urge an impossible calm, not looking at the eyes that had never felt the pain he had seen in Calleigh's. Not even after Raymond's death.

As he walked away, his mind span with the intricacies of the case, with trying to pick his way through the confusion of the memories, of the right thing to say or do to keep his team motivated, with what Calleigh would find, of how Alexx would cope.

It was only afterwards that he realised that he had not thought for one moment of taking comfort from Yelina, of wrapping himself in her arms, and resting his head on her shoulder, of loving her, and feeling his love heal the wounds.

Everything he'd felt for Yelina, the supposed love, the childish yearning, melted away in the harsh bright, hot Miami sunlight, burnt away by the heat of his grief..

Speed's death did what death always did. Changed his life. Made him see clearer, feel more intensely, see the truth. Death, as always, had changed everything.

Standing in the locker room, he felt so tired. Not just physically, but emotionally. He had no energy left to keep up the façade any more. Nothing left in him but the basic needs. He couldn't be the leader any more. Couldn't protect his team. Couldn't cope with anyone. All he needed was to say his goodbyes, and go home.

"You saved me" he murmured. He'd heard the footsteps before that, heard her familiar step. If it had been anyone else, he'd have waited until he was alone. But she wouldn't ask him who he was talking to, or demand an explanation. She would accept, and understand. And she would, as he knew she would, offer to help him. She would never leave him alone in his misery. And perhaps he was speaking as much to her as to Speed.

She still looked frozen. But he knew that would disappear once she was alone. Calleigh was an Old Southern gal. Her mask wouldn't slip until she was alone, and he ached for her. He ached for the pain she must be feeling, the tears building up behind her strained dry eyes, and wished he could help her.

He shouldn't reach out to her. Shouldn't let his own mask slip. Shouldn't let her see that he was vulnerable, or that he needed her. He shouldn't let her defences slip. All that was unprofessional, and risky, and felt somehow disloyal to Yelina, whom he'd professed to care for for so long.

But Speed's death had changed everything. He wanted to comfort Calleigh. He wanted to love her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, and feel her hold him. He wanted them to heal together, rather than mourn and suffer apart.

After Speed's death, nothing seemed quite as important as loving Calleigh.

"Hey. Come here."

Finally, he let it all slip away. The façade. The distance he'd been trying to keep.. The reasons why not. The fallacies. He needed her, and he opened his arms to her, and she came, willingly.

THE END