Key West Blues

Chapter 3

Jagged crying fits interspersed with waves of rage and bouts of isolating depression plagued her throughout the night. Only when the shadows in her apartment firmed into familiar objects did she finally fall into a deep but tortured sleep.

And in it she was trying reach the doorway at the end of the corridor; he would be there waiting for her, like always, reassuring her; supporting her; holding her; she'd be safe. But as she passed open doorways on her right and left, she saw faces and heard voices. First, it was Adam and Kendall frantically running samples, shaking their heads, muttering under their breath, "That Lindsay Monroe … how incompetent, forgetful … making extra work … no overtime pay allocated for this screwup". Then there was Hawkes and Flack at a crime scene. Words and phrases tossed back and forth between them as they laughed. "Lindsay left the crime scene … Yeah, looked like she'd seen a ghost … Probably be fired … Would be best for the lab." Sid and Peyton heads bent over a body, slicing carefully and precisely. She hurried past when she saw her face on the body, blue lips and lifeless eyes. The last doorway held Mac and Stella. His voice harsh in self reprimand. "What could I have been thinking – that a country girl from Montana could handle it here?" And Stella's, answering, matter of fact. "You couldn't have known Mac. I was fooled. We were all fooled." She was stumbling towards the door at the end now, desperate for reassurance, comfort and safety. The last stumble sent her sprawling through it onto her knees but before she could right herself she heard more than his voice. She heard a soft laugh, not his, and a younger voice, joking, delightedly. She leaned back her heels, brushing the hair away from her eyes. It was him, and she was there too, Rikki, and Ruben – alive and well. No it couldn't be; he was dead. How could this be? And Rikki sighing as his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, touching his lips to her forehead. "I'm so relieved she's gone," she said. "Me too," he replied, "now we can all be together." Turning to slap the bill of Ruben's baseball hat, causing it to shift and cover his eyes. "Ain't that right, Ruben? Isn't that what you've always wanted?" Ruben, pushing the cap back up his eyes gleaming, "That's right, Danny. You're the best thing that has ever happen to me and my mom."

Then she jerked to consciousness, heart palpitating at a jack rabbit's pace, clothes cold and damp, plastered to her body, eyes squinting in the glare of the late morning sun.

And she felt totally alone, bereft, like nothing would ever make her feel better again. And the tears swelled and broke as they would do many times over that day.

He didn't know how he'd managed to get back to his apartment, just that he had, and must have passed out just inside the door because his cheek was sticking to the floor in a puddle of his own drool, his throat screamed for water and his head begged for release from the monster stomping around inside it.

The rays of sun, slanting through the window, indicated noon or thereabouts. Bringing his arm, aching and heavy from sleeping with it twisted behind his back, slowly into view, he cursed at the time but when he lifted his head just a fraction of an inch, he knew there'd be no way he'd make it in to work today, no way at all.

Easing himself gently, he rolled carefully onto his back, keeping his head as still and as close to the floor as possible. He pulled his cell phone from his waist holding it above his face so he could see to dial. Mac had never said anything about the shift he had missed a few weeks ago, the one in which Lindsay had covered for him, but he wasn't taking any bets she was gonna be covering for him now.

He coughed and cleared his throat as best as he could while he waited for the call to connect.

"Mac"

No luck, his voice came out graveled and weak. At least I sound sick.

"Something hit me hard last night … yeah, dunno, maybe the flu, maybe something I ate … Yeah, better tomorrow, hopefully. Thanks."

He let the phone drop to the floor not bothering to press the End Call button, his forearm coming to rest across his eyes to block the sunlight continuing to brighten the room, and he groaned at the thought of the royal fuck ups that were now waiting for him beyond his apartment door.

But they didn't stay beyond his apartment door, they crept in under it, filtered in through the air ducts, swam in the dust particles trapped within the slices of sunshine.

And he began to question them.

Why had Lindsay said what she'd said? Hadn't she seen him struggling, struggling to come to terms with their relationship, sensed his distance as she drove towards the thing that he was backing away from? And why say it now and in that manner? Did she really intend to make him feel two feet tall during one of the toughest moments of his life? Cause him more pain than he was already feeling? Why couldn't she understand what he wanted, what he needed?

And Rikki. Why couldn't she just let him make it up to her? Admit that there was something between them so they could continue to chase away their mutual pain and grief? How was he going to do it without her? She's the only one that really understood. How was she going to do it without him? He's the only one that really understood. They could beat this thing together; get back to a normal and happy life.

And he felt completely confused and misunderstood with little idea of what to do next. So he did the only thing he could do, he crawled on hands and knees into the bathroom, pulled himself into the shower still fully clothed, turned on the cold water, numbing himself to all feelings and ceasing all thoughts.

A/N: Something more concrete in the next chapter, I promise. They just needed to wallow a bit more.