Title: When Curves Were Straight 10/11
Author: Shadowfax27
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Pairing: Eric/Ryan
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Me no own. You no sue. Okay?
Spoilers: A bit of Season 3's 'Lost Son' but totally AU
Cross-Beta: Shadowfax27 & Abendstern1601
Summary: Speed makes one last visit.
A/N: So… I know this update has long been overdue. I had a most severe case of the writer's block up until recently. As always, feedback would be most appreciated.
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Chapter 10 – The Brilliance of Breathing Speed
And then there was silence between them once more as both bodies shifted on top of the bed. Pulling the sheets to cover their nakedness, Eric snuggled up behind Ryan and held onto him, much like the way he had held him that first night he heard him dreaming about Speed, like that first night he spent holding him comfortingly on the couch until he had fallen back into a more peaceful sleep.
He dropped a soft kiss on Ryan's neck and shoulder and tangled their legs together, enjoying the straight yet complicated curves of the younger man against him, as their breaths slowly evened out into a steady rhythm. Silence enveloped them once more, heavy and persistent, until the only sounds they could hear were the steady beating of their own hearts… two hearts that after all this time, finally, finally beat as one.
And somewhere in the distance, in the faint ethereal shadows of the afterlife, a stubborn and restless soul finally, finally smiled…
With another deep breath and still with the absence of any words, Eric and Ryan closed their eyes and fell almost immediately into a deep, dreamless slumber.
Or so they thought…
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He felt like he was floating… drifting… heavy in his own body and yet oddly light at the same time.
There was the black of sleep.
And then, there was the gray between…
"Ryan…"
That voice.
It sounded so, so… familiar. So close and yet so strangely distant.
A familiar pang shot up to his chest, a pang of remembrance that he'd rather forget. And in an instant, his dreamless slumber was shattered, and he found himself utterly surrounded by the same gray haze that had troubled him in his sleep for the past few weeks.
"Ryan…"
He heard that same voice, calling out to him, even in his sleep.
Oh, no…
Was he dreaming again?
Another search? Another fruitless quest to bring back the dead?
He shuddered at the thought…
Another nightmare?
It was the same voice that had troubled and eluded him, the same voice that he now sought out once again through the shrouded gray of his eyelids – the same voice of a dear, old friend.
"Ryan…"
He was close…
So, so close that he could feel it, feel the man's very breath ghosting on his closed eyelashes, hovering over his cheeks; breathe his own name on his slightly parted lips.
"Where are you?" he managed to say through lips that barely moved, his voice coming out more as a choked whisper.
"Right here…" came the vaporous response. "I'm right here…"
Blindly, with heavy hands and arms, he tried to reach out to the voice, only to have the formless haze slip right through his fingers, untouchable. Again and again and again, he tried to capture what it was that he had been looking for, yet each time, his hands came up empty. And each time he failed, he felt as if he was losing 'him' all over again.
He wanted to run, to cry out for the voice to return, to plead with it to give him one last comfort, one last reassurance – one last promise of certainty.
"Wake up, Ryan," came the voice's soothing command.
"No… I can't…" Ryan countered, shaking his head vigorously. "I don't want to lose you. I'm not ready yet. I can't…" he protested, feeling his eyes start to pool with unwanted tears. "I can't…"
He didn't want this meeting to end.
Not yet.
"Trust me…" the voice echoed in his head, and he found himself crumbling helplessly, unable to resist its persuasive urges. "Open your eyes…"
He couldn't speak. He wanted to, but his tongue felt parched, numb all of a sudden. He could feel himself shaking his head, not ready to let go yet, not ready to say good-bye – not wanting this dream to end.
"Please, Ryan…" the voice spoke again, pleadingly this time. "Please… Open your eyes…"
In an instant, his body stopped struggling, lying completely still as he considered the request, his once-panicked mind finding solace in the voice's familiarity and earnestness.
"Will you… leave?" he asked now, swallowing thickly, sadness embracing his tone as he waited for reassurance. "Will you leave me again?"
His friend knew that he'd left out the conditional 'if' in that question: would he leave 'if' Ryan opened his eyes?
"I can't stay forever, Ryan…" came his vague response. "But I promise not to leave for as long as you can see me," he added conditionally after a measured silence. "Now, open your eyes."
At last, Ryan complied… hesitantly, unwillingly. But he complied. His eyes fluttered open, and he found himself in his room, lying in his own bed, still covered in the softness of his sheets, and… 'awake.' Awake and staring up into the kind brown eyes of his old friend.
"Speed?" he asked now, holding his breath, afraid that he was merely seeing an apparition, afraid that the ghost of a friend would vanish right before his eyes if he so much as dared to breathe in his presence, afraid that this was just wishful thinking – a product of his longing imagination.
"Come with me, Ryan…" he spoke now, lips curling up into a sympathetic smile.
He stood up and reached out a hand, open, welcoming. And slowly, Ryan sat up, draping his legs over the edge of the bed. He stared at the open hand before him and looked up into those familiar oracles once again, hesitating just a moment before accepting the invitation and inserting his hand into the proffered limb.
With a gentle tug, he felt Speed pull him up, and soon, he was standing right in front of his friend again, right in front of the one whom he had missed so much.
He glanced back at the bed, and his eyes held a curious glint as he watched the spooned forms of himself and his coworker-turned-lover, sleeping soundly, contentedly on his bed, as if laying together was simply habit, routine, nothing out of the ordinary – normal, in every sense of the word. And he blushed to himself when his thoughts wandered briefly to the events of the previous night – to the first time they finally consummated their desire.
But then a panicked thought hacked into his mind, terminating that blissful memory all at once…
Lovemaking.
Sheets.
Bodies spooned underneath…
Naked.
Ryan blanched. And with a horrified start, he let go of Speed's hand and gave himself a swift check, his own hands flying over to his chest, his shoulders, his legs, his back, even as his eyes swept over his entire body, wanting to confirm that he was, indeed, not standing in nothing but his birthday suit right in front of his friend.
He heard Speed chuckle in amusement, and he found himself glaring at the older man before a confused frown settled on his handsome features.
He looked around the room and noticed that his own clothes were still pooled carelessly on the floor… along with Eric's clothes. He grimaced slightly at the sight, but his compulsive urge to pick up the garments were soon crowded out by yet another thought: yes, his and Eric's clothes were still on the floor, but yet strangely, inexplicably, here he was… standing with those exact same clothes fully on his wraithlike form.
His eyes landed on Speed's, uncertain and boyishly wide, embarrassed. The older man simply offered him a small but knowing smile.
"Come on…" he spoke after a brief silence, holding out his hand again for Ryan to take. "Lets take a walk."
As if on autopilot, Ryan's hand took hold of Speed's once again, the older man seemingly turning to walk towards the bedroom windows. Unquestioningly, Ryan followed, and in an instant, their surroundings shifted, dispersed, evaporating like fog to the rising sun.
It wasn't long before he found himself surrounded by open air, trees peppering a magnificent rolling landscape, half shading some old brick and stone buildings that tastefully dotted the architecturally academic scenery in the distance, his feet treading on plush, green grass.
"Where are we?" Ryan asked, taking in his surroundings, even as he felt as if he'd been there before.
"Do you remember the first time we met?" Speed asked by way of response.
Ryan nodded mutely.
"Do you remember the first time we became friends?"
With a weighted sigh, Ryan looked down at his feet and then looked away at the scenery around him, taking back his hand to rake his fingers through his already rumpled hair. Shoving them down into the pockets of his jeans, his mind raced frantically to pinpoint the exact time, place, or circumstance when he and Speed actually became friends.
He drew a blank.
"It was a process," he replied at long last. "You and I… We just…did. We clicked. And before I knew it…" he trailed off, turning to look at his mentor again. "We were already friends."
Smiling at the fond memories of their friendship, Speed now asked as they continued to walk, "And do you remember my promise to you, Ryan?"
The younger man didn't even have to think about that one. He certainly remembered it, held onto it lonely night after lonely night like a precious gem, a warm blanket to reassure himself that he had done the right thing by following his dream to become a criminalist.
It had embedded itself, like clear-cut crystal in his head. And he had trained himself to believe it, even as he grieved in solitude and in secret over the loss of his mentor and good friend.
He remembered the promise the older man had made to him that morning when they had met for breakfast and coffee before their shifts even began, that morning before Speed was gunned down at the jewelry store – that very same morning when the both of them had actually planned and scheduled for Ryan to finally apply as a CSI as soon as his shift was over that day.
Speed had it all figured out. He was going to be the one to tell Horatio about Ryan. He wanted… No. He insisted that he be the one to put in a good word for him, and Ryan didn't really care to argue with the CSI about it. He had more important things to worry about anyway, and he trusted that Speed knew what he was doing.
And so, the plan was that after Speed had properly 'prepped' his boss about Ryan and the 'necessity' of hiring another CSI, then Yelina Salas would come later on that day to hand Horatio Ryan's resume and to give him her recommendation. And then, all that would be left would be for Ryan to do his interview with the Lieutenant, show him what he was capable of, and prove to the mighty Horatio Caine that he was, indeed, ready, worth hiring – CSI material.
It was a foolproof plan.
Only… fate seemed to have found the 'fool' in their supposedly proofed plan. The day got too busy for both of them. The boat crash and murder case that Speed had been working on became more and more complicated, evolving into a young boy's kidnapping. And before either of them knew it, Speed's gun had malfunctioned, and he…
And then Ryan was…
He shook his head all of a sudden, trying to rid himself of those horrible memories. He didn't want to think about them right now.
But yes, he already knew the answer.
How could he possibly forget?
"You told me that I had nothing to worry about because you'd always be there to help me," he replied, trying not to choke on the words as his eyes began to swim with tears at the fond yet sorrowful memories, upsetting, heartbreaking all at once. "You said that no matter what happens, you'd always be there for me. You'd always be there to guide me, to see me through." Abruptly, he stopped walking and turned now to look at the former CSI with pain in his eyes, "You promised that we'd always be friends,' he finished, his voice barely coming out in a whisper.
He was trying so, so hard not to break down and cry. He was tougher than that, damn it! But the memories still hurt just as bad, distant as they might be. And he couldn't be entirely sure if it was at all possible to really move on and let go of one's grief and pain, to not hurt anymore whenever he thought about his friend or his untimely death for that matter.
"And we'll always be friends, Ryan," Speed assuaged, laying a hand on each of the younger man's shoulders and giving him a gentle squeeze as he looked him resolutely in the eyes. "Nothing about our friendship has changed."
"I know…" Ryan replied quietly, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, even though no tears had actually fallen yet. "I know."
"And you have nothing to worry about as far as your job's concerned," Speed added confidently. "I've taught you everything you needed to get started. But what you've been able to accomplish so far… that's all you, Ryan. You've done that on your own… without any help from me, really. You should be proud of yourself!" his friend told him, a triumphant smile firmly in place. "You're holding your own, standing your ground where it counts, and that's all that matters."
"How can you say that?" Ryan now queried disbelievingly. "I've messed up so many times, it's ridiculous! It's a miracle Horatio hasn't fired me, that I still even have this job!" he countered self-deprecatingly.
"Ryan, Ryan, Ryan…" Speed sighed, shaking his head. "Have I taught you nothing?" he now asked. "You have got to stop being so hard on yourself, man. Everyone makes mistakes, and you have got to learn to forgive yourself. Stop beating yourself up all the time. Nobody's perfect."
"Yeah, no one except you," he retorted sarcastically, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself, and he immediately regretted saying it, wished he could take it back. Sighing heavily, Ryan apologized, "I'm sorry, man. I shouldn't have said that."
"Don't worry about it. No harm done," Speed shrugged. "Believe me, I understand. And I'm sorry about the way the lab treated you when you first came on board."
Ryan shrugged, "It's not your fault."
"I know, but still… I never would've expected them to act that way towards you. And I'm sorry you had to go through all that alone."
Smiling weakly at the older man, Ryan replied, "Thanks. That's still no excuse for what I said, though."
"Didn't I just tell you to stop beating yourself up?" Speed now joked, and Ryan chuckled despite himself.
"What can I say? I'm hard-headed."
Speed shrugged once again before hooking a playful arm around Ryan's neck and drawing him in so that they're walking side by side, "Meh… maybe more like a stubborn pain in the ass… My ass!"
Looking affronted but laughing, nonetheless, Ryan parried back, "You're one to talk!"
They shared a good, hearty laugh before Speed sobered up again, wanting to address any last issues with his young friend.
"Seriously, Ryan, you have nothing to worry about. You're a great CSI. And a damn good one, if I might say so myself!" Speed declared, a proud gleam in his eye. "And despite what people might've thought about you in the beginning, you're not a replacement. You were never my replacement. You're a wonderful addition to the lab. And you're a loyal friend."
He watched as the smile slowly faded from Ryan's face at the mention of the team, and oddly enough, Speed wasn't really surprised to see his friend react that way. He knew how challenging it had been for the former patrol officer-turned-criminalist to find his place in the lab, how difficult it had been for him to fit in.
Giving the younger man another gentle squeeze on his shoulder, Speed, once more, did his best to assuage Ryan's fears and insecurities about being part of the team – the team that he, himself, had come to consider as family.
"Things have gotten better lately, haven't they?" he reminded. "So, trust me when I say that things are going to be even better from now on," he encouraged softly. "You've found your place in the team, Ryan. You don't have to keep proving that to anyone and everyone… or to yourself, for that matter."
"Then why does it feel like every mistake I make's magnified? Why do I still feel like I'm an outsider looking in?" Ryan whispered brokenly, his voice so small, so uncharacteristically insecure, so painfully uncertain, that it caught Speed off guard.
Breathing out slowly, thoughtfully, Speed turned to face his sullen friend, cupping his head in the process and looking straight into wide, disheartened hazel eyes.
"Whether you believe it or not, you are part of the team, Ryan. And, therefore, you are family," he reasoned. "You followed your dream, and now, you are right where you should always be, right where you belong. Don't ever doubt that."
"And the team?" Ryan now queried anxiously.
Speed merely gave him a sly wink before letting him go to resume walking, not bothering to voice an answer to the younger man's query, Ryan turning to follow him not more than two steps later.
Somehow, Ryan sensed that the former CSI had already taken care of his concerns… had taken care of all of them… of him – of everything. It was just like Speed to leave no business unfinished; just like him to make sure that every major detail had been plotted out, carefully covered… even in death.
There was quiet between them again as they walked unhurriedly together, before the scruffy man finally broke the comfortable but weighty silence, shepherding in that predestined and dreaded hour when the two friends would be separated for good, where even the gray between couldn't bring them together.
Like a breath of haze, their peaceful surroundings vanished, only to be replaced by the clear, warm familiarity of another.
"It's time, Ryan," Speed told him as he ushered him back to his bed, where his and Eric's sleeping forms were still cuddled together, like thick honey to a spoon, under the softness of the pale sheets. "Time to let go, old friend… Time to say good-bye for good."
"Speed…" the younger man called out in weak protest as he found himself unwillingly sitting down on the edge of the bed, hazel green eyes still looking up pleadingly at his dear, departing-yet-again friend. "Speed, I won't forg-"
"I know…" his friend cut in gently, hearteningly. "I know."
Wistfully, he looked over at the two bodies still lying on the bed… and he smiled, his face twisting up into a glorious beam of satisfaction, of knowing that he had finally succeeded in his once-unfinished promise to bring his two friends together.
Ryan followed his gaze before returning his own to regard the other man curiously. It was strange to be looking down at his own earthly body sleeping right next to the Cuban, latent, untroubled… serene for the first time since his friend's untimely death.
"Take care of Eric, will you?" he asked now, a gentle smile tugging on his lips. At Ryan's silent but uncertain nod, he added reassuringly, "Don't worry… he knows to take care of you, too."
Understanding twisted meekly on Ryan's lips at what Speed had implied, "Thank you…" he smiled gratefully, "…for everything."
The older man simply shrugged, "It's what friends do." With one last glance over the spooned couple, who were still sleeping soundly, Speed now met Ryan's dim and increasingly saddened eyes for the final time, "Go back to sleep, Ryan."
"Speed…" Ryan tried to cut in once more, even as he found his body involuntarily lying back down, molding into the shape of his earthly form, as if being made to comply by some unseen, soporific force.
"Remember me, Ryan," Speed reminded him softly for the last time, his voice like the fading whisper of a dying friend.
He watched the former patrol officer attempt to fight with the ever-increasing spell of irresistible sleep to no avail, his eyelids drooping heavily, even as he tried to force it to stay open.
"Speed…" Ryan whispered his name like a breath of liquid salvation to his lips… ephemeral – fleeting like his namesake.
"Remember me and then say good-bye," he added hurriedly, his voice dancing like an echo through the graying darkness of Ryan's eyelids, trying to get in his last few words before sleep could steal away the younger man completely. "Promise me you'll say good-bye."
Ryan nodded heavily, uttering a sleepy "I promise…" before breathing one last comforted sigh and falling back into the deep, dreamless slumber he and Eric had fallen into a mere few hours ago.
And having heard Ryan's drowsy but resolute promise, the once-restless soul of a CSI slumped his tired shoulders and smiled, uttering a soft, final good-bye to his slumbering friends as he found himself suddenly enveloped and fading brilliantly into the soothing radiance of the hereafter.
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Hours later…
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TBC
Feedback makes me terribly giddy. Make me terribly giddy, won't you? Please?
A/N: It's been a while, I know. Apologies for the long wait, but I hope this chapter found your appreciation as there's only one more chapter left to go, which I had to introduce as a sort of a cliffhanger again there at the end. But no worries, the last chapter is coming soon. So… what did you think? How was the dream sequence? Can you guys believe that this fic is almost over? I'm feeling incredibly reminiscent at the moment. holds back tears :(