Title: Tomorrow Never Comes

Disclaimer: Major Violence, Language, Angst, and Harassment. Mild Slash.

POV: Speed

Chapter Four: Shadows

The sun filters through the blinds flashing into my eyes. I roll over. Delko isn't around. Lucky him, he gets to work. I'm tired of hanging out at home. There's nothing for me to do. My mind can't be occupied. Thus allowing the shadows to creep in.

I get up before I depress myself. The only sounds I hear are the happy birds. I stumble into the bathroom. A nice hot shower should wake me. Within seconds, the mirror is fogged. I remove what clothes I'm wearing and step under the water.

It feels good. Feels like it's washing the world away. My skin turns red. Burned slightly by the boiling water. I stand under the water with my eyes closed. My tears aren't noticeable.

I hit the wall with my fist. Blood colors the water pink and I don't care. I slide down the wall, my head in my hands. Why do I still feel lost?

I've been sitting in the parking lot for nearly an hour now. I can't find a legitimate reason to be here. Too early for lunch, so I can't use that as an excuse.

Horatio will be mad I'm here. But it's too quiet at home. I finally climb out of the car. The breeze caresses my skin. The sun smiles upon me. Damn sun.

In the building. No one really seems to register my presence. Bad or good? I find that I don't care. I don't want them stopping me and asking the same damn question. I'm tired of hearing it. Tired of lying. And yet, lying is so easy, they all believe me anyway.

I walk down the halls. Alone in my own little world. A world where shadows cloud my mind. I hastily pass by Trace. Not that it matters, the room is empty. Where is Delko?

I hear Horatio. Sounds like he's talking to Calleigh. I look around. Where to hide? The locker room. I disappear into the quiet room. Alone. Always alone.

What if H and Calleigh are coming to the locker room? What if they find me hiding here? My locker, I'll use it as a cover. I came here to get something out of my locker. They'll believe that, won't they?

I walk calmly to my locker. The metal door with secrets behind. I close my eyes. What did I leave in my locker? A change of clothes. A pair of sneakers and a pair black work boots. A stack of books and magazines. That's what I came for. I need the rest of my books.

I open the door. Out flutters an envelope. That's not mine. Is it? I don't remember leaving an envelope behind. Hm.

I pick it up. Across the front my name is scrawled. I don't recognize the writing. Should I open it?

I rip open the seal. I pull out the note. Something falls to the floor. I ignore it for now; I want to read the note instead.

The paper is unlined. The writing is small and neat. I read,

The time we had was cut short. Really, that's not fair. I wish we could have that time over again. But now, I must know, do you remember me?

Who the hell? There was no signature. Just a red stamp of a devil. I pluck the other object from the ground.

My heart stops.

My blood runs cold.

It's a picture of me. Bound, gagged, and bloody. No. This isn't happening. It's over. It's all over.

But then I remember, no one was caught. My case is still open.

I jam the note and picture into my pocket. I want out of her. I step out the door and right into Horatio.

"Speed, what a surprise."

"Uh, hi." I smile weakly.

"Might I ask why you are here?"

"Um. I cam to get something from my locker."

Horatio eyes me. "What? You have nothing in your hands."

Caught in my lie. "Er, it wasn't there, like I thought. So I'm going home now. No worries. I'm not working."

"You're bleeding," he says, pointing at my hand.

I look down. "Oh, I hit the wall. I was mad this morning."

He places his hands on my shoulders. "Go home, Tim. Get some rest. You'll be back at work before you know it."

"Sure," I nod. "Sure, resting sounds nice."

I make my way home. But who can rest? I close and lock the door. I lock each window. Draw every blind. Turn on every light.

With my gun loaded, I hole myself up in the bathroom. I take the picture and note from my pocket.

I collapse onto the bed. My gun within reach. My eyes close.

I remember…

The taste of blood in my mouth. Rope burns on my wrists. My clothes sticking to my body with sweat. Tears running down my cheeks. The cool metal gun barrel held against my temple. Pain as the knife cuts my skin.

A slamming door wakes me. I grab my gun. I realize the sun is gone. I fell asleep. Who had come into the apartment? I point my gun at the bedroom door.

"Tim?" Delko yells.

Why does he sound panicked?