Title: Found
Chapter 5
Author's Notes: Spectral Speed thinks about communicating with the living and reacts to the New Guy. Sorry for the Vegas quip. I couldn't resist. Seriously. Am I wrong?
Spoilers: Anything this season is fair game.
-----
He heard me. H actually heard me.
So, I've been deliriously excited since my encounter with H this morning. Last night, I had no hope. Now . . . Now I've communicated with the other side. I mean, I kind of freaked H out, but who cares? He'll get over it.
After H left, I ran around headquarters looking for someone else to talk to. I couldn't find Eric and Calleigh, so I snuck in behind Tyler and rattled off some witticisms. He and I usually got along pretty well, and . . . well let's face it. He's a little weird. I figured that might give him a leg up on the "hearing a ghost" thing. Unfortunately, I got no reaction. Valera was a bust, too.
Bummed, I dragged myself back to the locker room and proceeded to sulk in the corner.
Leaning against a locker, I tug on my bottom lip. What do I know so far? First of all, both H and Eric felt me when I touched them. And H actually heard my voice. But I've been sitting with H for hours, rattling on and on. Why did he hear me now? I wasn't trying to make myself heard.
About then, I notice a goofy-looking patrol officer wander into my locker room. Like a good CSI, I decide to investigate. I watch as the officer pries open the locker next to mine. As he shoves his belongings into the waiting cubbyhole, his gaze drifts to the nametag on my locker.
"You're probably wondering who 'Speedle' is," I say. Leaning against the locker, I look the officer up and down. "That would be me. I'm guessing you're the loser H hired to replace me. So, what are your qualifications?"
New Guy ignores me.
Dork.
Undeterred, I press on. "Hey, you know, you kind of remind of me of this lab tech from Vegas I met at a forensics convention. You from Vegas?"
Still ignoring me, New Guy shuts his locker and wanders out the door.
Frowning, I plunk down on the bench. Part of me wants to follow the guy and haunt him until he runs screaming down the hall like the custodian did yesterday. It's irrational, I know. H had to replace me eventually. But this guy? It looks like H hired him right out of the patrol car. What did he do? Wave the guy over on the side of the road and offer him a job?
-----
After a healthy dose of brooding, I decide to go out and look for New Guy. I need to know that he's not a total doofus. I mean, how can I trust him around my friends if he's an idiot?
When I finally find him, he's standing in the hall, talking with Alexx. As I watch New Guy chat familiarly with my friend, I can feel my blood start to boil. Clenching my jaw, I hurry over to listen in on their conversation. Alexx is filling him in on the particulars of a case. I don't catch all the details because I'm too busy glaring at New Guy.
To Alexx's credit, she looks completely disinterested in the conversation. Finally, with a flick of her wrist, she shoves a file into New Guy's hands. "That would be my assessment," she says coolly. Then she turns on her heels and walks away.
"Yeah," I say victoriously. Turning to New Guy, I say, "Alexx is my ME. Keep your hands off."
Having told New Guy how it is, I hurry after Alexx. She looked to have been heading toward the break room. Sure enough, I find Alexx rustling through the refrigerator for her lunch. "You getting ready to eat?" I query, dropping myself into a chair. "Mind if I join you?"
I realize too late that when I sat down, my added weight caused the chair to creak slightly. Alexx glances over her shoulder at the sound. Then she shrugs, pulls out her lunch, and joins me at the table.
When I was still alive, Alexx and I used to have lunch together all the time. She would pull out pictures of her kids and update me on how they were doing in school and what kinds of new things they were learning. I feel like I know her family even though I only saw them at Christmas parties.
After she lays out the contents of her lunch bag, Alexx snaps open her wallet and starts to pull out a picture.
I narrow my eyes. Her sandwich hasn't turned into a projectile yet, so I'm assuming she hasn't heard me talking to her. And yet, she's pulling out her pictures, just as if she knows I'm here. Tugging a single photograph loose from her wallet, Alexx places it carefully on the table.
I lean forward to have a look. Hmm . . . It's not a picture of the children after all. It's a photo of me. I remember giving it to Alexx last year. I rarely have my picture taken, but my mom had been bugging me for a new one. So I caved and got some taken. When Alexx and Calleigh found out, they each demanded a copy. Eric asked for one, too, sheepishly claiming he "needed a new dartboard target."
Gazing at my photograph, Alexx says, "Did you see what Horatio has stuck us with?" Shaking her head, she bites into her banana.
She's having a conversation with my picture? Okay, I can run with this. "Yeah, I saw. He's an idiot."
"I give him a month, honey," Alexx says.
I lean back in my chair. "You think a month? I don't know."
Alexx lays the half-eaten banana peel on the table and picks up a chicken sandwich. "I can't believe Horatio put him on this case of all cases. Calleigh must be going nuts."
"Why?" I ask, leaning forward.
Shaking her head, Alexx slumps in her chair. After a few seconds, she sits up straight and gingerly starts thumbing my picture. "This isn't getting any easier, Timmy."
Biting my bottom lip, I place my hand on hers. "I'm sorry," I say.
Alexx lets out a breath. "I never thought you of all people would wind up on my table. I can still see you lying there." she croaks.
Suddenly, the crushing realization hits me between the eyes. My autopsy . . . Alexx performed my autopsy. My God. "Alexx," I say, my voice cracking, "I'm so sorry."
It makes sense, though. Even if someone tried to get her to stay uninvolved, Alexx probably would have refused to let anyone else touch me. And H . . . he'd be the same way. He likes to keep family affairs within the family, so to speak.
About then, Eric walks in and leans against the table, the balls of his hands supporting his weight. He smells good. "Hey, Alexx," he says.
"Hey, you," Alexx returns.
Eric glances down at my picture. He narrows his eyes at Alexx, but doesn't ask any awkward questions. "You met the new guy?"
A look of displeasure flits across Alexx's face. "Mmm-hmm. What do you think of him?"
Eric half-laughs. "He's a dork."
"That's what I said," I interject.
Not having heard me, Eric continues, "He's a little eager."
"A little?" Alexx says, raising her eyebrows, "If Horatio has died in that firefight, Ryan would be after his job."
Ryan? New Guy's name is Ryan?
Eric pulls a chair away from the table and plunks himself down in it. He snatches my photograph from the table. "Anyway, Cal wants to go out for dinner after work. I know you probably have to get home, but if thing with her dad turns out badly . . ."
"Wait a sec," I say, "H put New Guy on a case involving Calleigh's dad?"
I'm seriously going to have to have a talk with H.
Alexx takes a sip of orange juice. "No, I'll call my husband. Is the eager beaver coming with us?"
"I hope not," Eric says, a sour look ghosting across his face. Gently placing my picture back onto the table, Eric pulls himself into a standing position. "I'd better go find H."
"Did you have lunch?" Alexx scolds.
"I'll eat tonight," Eric mock-whines, "You mother-hen."
-----
After lunch, I started to follow Alexx down to the autopsy theatre, but I chickened out. Ever since I realized the Alexx performed my autopsy, I've been completely freaked out about going down to the morgue. I don't know what I'm afraid of. No. No, I know exactly what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid I'll remember my autopsy. I have these tiny fragments of memory already. I remember hearing H's voice calling my name, and then nothing for a while. And then the next thing I recall is another voice. I can't make out the words, but I remember someone talking to me, soothing me . . . Alexx. I've seen her do it hundreds of times. To Alexx, the dead are just like any other patient. She talks to them, tries to keep them calm, make them feel secure.
She did that for me . . .
Since I couldn't bring myself to follow Alexx to the morgue, I instead ran around headquarters, trying to find information on Calleigh's dad. I figured I should at least know what's going on. All I discovered is that he apparently was drunk driving last night and hit a guy. But it looks like the guy was already a corpse when Duke hit him.
As I pace back and forth, considering the situation, Eric breezes past me "Hey, wait up," I say. I follow Eric as he rounds the corner and marches down the stairs. It doesn't take long for me to realize where we're going.
The morgue.
I follow Eric as far as the hallway leading to the autopsy theatre. "I'm going to wait here," I say. Glancing uncomfortably around the corridor, I lean against the wall. According to the clock, shift was over a half-hour ago. Alexx usually does her paperwork before she leaves, so I'm guessing Eric will wait for her, and then they'll meet Calleigh. So, I'll just stay here.
After a few minutes, a harried man in a suit rushes up to me. "'Scuse me," he says breathlessly, "I was wondering if you can tell me where they took my car?"
"Hmm?" I say.
"My car," he says impatiently, "You work here, don't you?"
"Sort of," I mumble. Then it occurs to me that, as a ghost, I should be invisible. "Wait a minute," I say, "Can you see me?"
The man throws up his hands. "I may as well be talking to myself." Murmuring something about his "tax dollars at work," the man hurries down the hall.
I stare at the guy as he disappears around a corner. Okay, hang on. So this guy came from the morgue, right? And he can see me. Morgue plus ability to talk to a dead cop . . . I think that guy was a ghost. Creepy. But it tells me one important thing. I may not be alone here. Maybe I can find another ghost who knows the ropes better than I do. Yeah.
-----
Sucking up my fear, I pass through the swinging doors into the main part of the autopsy theatre and let my eyes scan the room. So far, so good. No memories yet.
Alexx is in her street clothes, but she's conferring with one of the night shift coroners. Eric is milling around near the door, looking as uncomfortable as I feel.
I walk slowly around the room, looking for some sign that another ghost is here. For a morgue, though, it's not exactly bustling with spectral activity. In fact, I think I'm the only ghost in the room. I do, however, find the body of the guy I spoke to in the hallway. Cause of death? More than likely, a massive head injury. He's a mess. No open casket for this guy.
As I scan the scene, I hear Calleigh's voice behind me.
"I am so relieved," Calleigh says to Eric and Alexx. "I took him home. I'd like to think this was a wake-up call, but I don't know."
I stroll up to the threesome, resisting the sudden urge to take Calleigh's hand in mine. "So, Cal," I say, "Eric and I think the newbie is a dork. What do you think?"
I take Calleigh's silence to mean that she agrees with us.
"So," Calleigh says, "Did you hear the nightshift thinks headquarters is haunted?"
Alexx looks up. "They do?"
I glance up at the ceiling. "Well, technically it is."
Calleigh shrugs. "I don't know. It's not like we've never lost a cop before, but ever since Tim died . . . I don't know." She shakes her head. "It's silly." As Eric, Alexx, Calleigh, and I walk into the hallway, Calleigh continues, "Some custodian saw something move by itself last night."
"Not by itself," I say.
"And apparently," Calleigh says, "People heard sounds come from Horatio's office, even after he went home."
Oops.
"Whatever," Eric scoffs.
"Well," Alexx says, smiling, "I kind of like to think our boy's still with us. I talk to him sometimes."
"You do?" Eric asks.
"Yeah," I say, "We had nice talk at lunch."
"I still feel his presence," Alexx says, "Sometimes when I feel a breeze, or I hear a noise, I like to think it's Tim."
Right now, I have an almost irresistible urge to hug Alexx.
Calleigh stops in her tracks and looks quizzically at Alexx. "Are you saying you believe in ghosts?"
"Yeah," Alexx says, "I guess I do. When I was a little girl, my grandpa died. A week after the funeral, I was sneaking into the kitchen for a cookie, and I heard him say, 'Girl, you don't need a cookie.' I turned around, and for a split second, I thought I saw him."
"You saw a ghost," Eric says.
Alexx pauses as if she's trying to decide once and for all. "I don't know," she admits, "But I felt a lot better thinking grandpa was still there."
Eric frowns. "Well, if you want my opinion, Alexx, you should let Speed rest in peace."
"Eric," Calleigh drawls.
"He's dead, Cal," Eric says, "He died on us. He's not running around the halls of CSI headquarters. He's in the ground, decomposing."
Ouch.
Calleigh takes Eric's hand. "Look, I know you're hurting."
Yanking his hand away from Calleigh, Eric snaps, "That has nothing to do with it, Cal. Bottom line? Speed's dead. Let him go."
