XXXVI

Homecoming

The deep pain that is felt at the death of every friendly soul arises from the feeling that there is in every individual something which is inexpressible, peculiar to him alone, and is, therefore, absolutely and irretrievably lost.

- Arthur Schopenhauer -

It took Horatio a while to come to his senses. He needed to call it in. He needed to protect the integrity of the crime scene.

He needed to get to work.

After he called it in to dispatch, Horatio made one more personal phone call and then knelt down beside Ryan's body, completely unwilling to do anything else. He just sat there, numbly gazing at his CSI's very still face. He half-expected Ryan to stir at any moment, yawn and ask him what he was doing on the ground. But deep down Horatio knew he was being naive.

When the first-responding patrol officers arrived, Horatio directed them to set up a yellow-tape perimeter.

A coroner's van was the next to arrive. A piece of Horatio's broken heart was relieved when Tom stepped out. It had been Tom who he'd called after dispatch, asking him to start work early and why.

Tom approached Horatio with a look of pure shock on his face, his footfalls slow and hesitant. Horatio said nothing when Tom reached them.

The M.E. sank to his knees in the sand next to Ryan's body. He shook his head slowly, disbelievingly. The young CSI he'd worked with, bickered with, laughed with for more than three years... come to this?

"Horatio...," Tom choked, his voice terribly shaky. "What... what happened?"

The redhead lieutenant's face was stonelike. "That's what I need your help finding out, Doctor," he answered quietly.

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat, fighting to stay professional. "I'll take care of him. You can count on that."

"I know you will," Horatio replied. "Thank you."

There were a few sorrowful moments of silence as Tom scanned Ryan's body up and down. Horatio watched like a stone guardian.

"I don't see any entrance wounds or blood," Tom remarked, clearing his throat. "Slight cyanosis of the lips, suggests he... struggled for air..."

He had to pause as he fought to tamp down on his emotions. He cleared his throat again and pushed on. "I see ligature marks on his wrists and ankles. He was restrained long enough before... death... for bruises t-to form..."

Horatio and Tom both stared at the ground, neither able to keep looking at Ryan.

Tom sniffed wetly. "Horatio...?"

The redhead looked up at the doctor. Tom's eyes were damp, but he was fighting to keep the tears from falling.

"We need to find out who did this," Tom told him, a razor edge to his grief-stricken voice. "Whoever did this... they need to pay."

Horatio nodded. "They'll pay. Rest assured, Doctor. They will pay."

::|+|::

Horatio went in the coroner van to the morgue, not leaving Ryan's side for one moment. He was like a watchdog over his fallen CSI, making damn sure that no one so much as touched him ever again.

Now he stood in the cool hallway outside the autopsy room, his heart dreading what was about to happen. He didn't know how he was going to handle it. He didn't know what he could possibly say.

He heard a door open somewhere down the hall behind him. He heard the tapping and scuffing of multiple pairs of footsteps hurrying towards him. He didn't want to turn around when the footsteps all stopped right behind him. He didn't want to do this.

"H?"

He couldn't and shouldn't avoid them forever. Horatio turned slowly to face Calleigh, Frank, Eric, Walter and Natalia. He hadn't elaborated when he'd sent them an emergency text to meet him in the morgue. They all looked at him, worried expressions on all of their faces.

"Is something wrong?" Calleigh asked. The look on her boss's face frightened her more than anything. He looked so... lost.

Horatio took a deep breath. "It's Ryan," he said, his voice deathly quiet.

A chill settled over them all.

"He's getting out today," Walter said flatly. "Isn't he?"

Horatio looked down at the floor.

Fear seized all of them. Tears welled up in Natalia's eyes.

Horatio looked up at them, meeting each of their gazes.

"He's dead."

The two words fell on them like a sledgehammer. The chill of the morgue was nothing compared to the utterly cold devastation that settled into all of their hearts.

"What?" Walter cried numbly.

"Oh, God..." Natalia whispered, her entire body trembling.

"How?" Frank growled weakly.

"We don't know yet," Horatio explained heavily. "I found... I found him at Silver Rock Beach around 5 this morning. The graveyard shift is out processing the scene for us now. We don't have a cause of death yet."

Natalia covered her mouth with one hand, turned and ran from the group, her eyes streaming. Walter hesitated, then went after her, leaving Calleigh, Frank and Eric with Horatio.

Calleigh gripped Eric's hand like a lifeline. She fought back the tears that so desperately tried to fall.

Ryan... her little brother... who always seemed to find himself in the worst situations... but he still soldiered on...

Eric felt pain in his chest. It was as if his heart was actually breaking, not just metaphorically. The anger at whoever could have done this to their family was all but extinguished by the suffocating blanket of sorrow.

"Is he here?" Calleigh asked quietly.

Horatio nodded. "Take as long as you need."

Calleigh nodded gratefully. She took a step toward the autopsy room door, but then stopped. She instead walked up to Horatio and hugged him tight.

Horatio held her close, his heart aching ferociously. It was as if he could feel their shared devastation when they touched. That embrace was exactly what he needed at that moment.

Calleigh let go of him and then entered the autopsy room without looking back. Eric hesitated, looking at Horatio. They didn't need to say a word, knowing they both felt the same way. Eric followed Calleigh inside, leaving Frank alone with Horatio.

Tom was standing with his back to them. The table in front of him had a body on it that was covered with a sheet. He turned when he heard them come in. His usually jovial face was marred with sadness.

"I'll give you a minute," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

As he left, Calleigh and Eric slowly approached the table. They hesitated when they reached it, but then Calleigh reached out with one shaking hand and gently pulled the sheet back.

Ryan might have been sleeping. Reality washed over them sickeningly.

"Oh, Ryan," Calleigh whispered, reaching out a shaking hand to gently stroke his hair. He felt so cold to her touch.

Eric shook his head, putting a hand to his head to cover his burning eyes. Then he let it drop and he grabbed Calleigh's hand again.

Ever since Speed had died, Eric had made a point of avoiding getting too close with most of his colleagues. Calleigh and Horatio were the exception, of course. Everyone else he kept at some sort of distance, even Ryan. But the kid had been persistent, and Eric couldn't help but like him.

Were they best friends? Maybe not. But then again, brothers weren't always that way.

Eric placed his free hand on top of Ryan's arm. His friend's skin was pale and cold to the touch. No life pumped through his empty veins.

Calleigh and Eric stood there, hand in hand, in silence for a long time. Neither said a word. Neither knew what they possibly could say. Both wanted nothing more than to weep over their fallen friend, but they knew they had to be strong. Together.

Calleigh turned and buried her face in Eric's chest, tucking her head under his chin. He held her close, wrapping his muscled arms around her tightly. They both closed their eyes, enveloping each other in what warmth and comfort they could spare and preparing themselves for what would come next.

They couldn't save their friend.

But they sure as hell could hunt down his killer.

Author's Note: Sigh. Sometimes I really don't like me. But don't worry. The team is out for revenge and so am I!