Edge of Understanding

Author: Speefanatic05

Rating: K+

Warning: Language

Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own anything. Just a mild state of denial that Tim is alive and kicking in various places.

Authors Note: I was watching Wannabe, and the sudden feeling to write a missing scene hit me. So, here it is in it's glory.

A/N#2 : Thanks goes to randomwriting for the guidance and advice. Hope this pays off!

Missing Scene: Wannabe, after Tim leaves the lab

Summary: It's not that easy to let go...

He stood at the edge of the surf, gazing out into the horizon, his mind running rampant with thoughts of what had happened. Could he have been more compassionate with handling Wally, would that had not led him to take his own life? Taking a deep breath, he ran his hand through his hair, dropping his gaze onto the white sand, and releasing the air harshly. He should've understood more, should've seen the obvious signs in the young man. Now that he had a moment of clarity, he reflected back on the conversation he had with Wally yesterday, realizing now that he was just a lonely soul who surrounded himself with empty artifacts of familiarity. He should've seen Wally's attempt to reach out for help, the one thing he had said forever etched in his memory now.

"I'm always messing things up..."

Tim bent to his haunches, picking up a seashell and tumbling it around in his hands, losing himself in his emotions. The overwhelming feeling of guilt washed over him, knowing that before Wally killed himself, his only concern was making the evidence fit and catching Fisch, and afterwards being hell bent on catching him as if making some amends for Wally. In the end, it didn't matter because really, at the time he was too angry to care about Wally ; his crime scene had been violated by some wannabe who now jeopardized a very important case, his case. He wished that Wally Shmagin didn't exist, but now that he was truly gone, he felt like a total ass because after all was said and done, he had found that he actually saw a little of himself in Wally. All it took was a solitary moment in a deserted trace lab for Tim to see what dwelled in Wally, his eagerness and apprehensions that bubbled up simultaneously, effecting a lost quality. Tim had gotten an earlier glimpse into Wally's consciousness when he visited his makeshift forensics museum in his condo, seeing the pride , yet meekness in the collection. Wally had made this into his life, as did Tim essentially, but he discounted it when called out by Delgado in the DNA lab, telling her rather pompously that it was just a paycheck, and not his life. If that were true, then why did he often find himself in the lab at all hours of the night, scouring the evidence , in search of justice, righting wrongs, giving peace to those affected? No, this job was more than a paycheck to him, it was a passion, a passion that he rather no one know about. Only one other person knew about this deep seated passion, but as he sent Wally home last night, he could sense that Wally had caught onto his game. Wally had seen what really lain in Tim's heart. Now, it was too late, and Wally no longer existed, and now here he was, standing alone on the beach, heaving the responsibility of his death on his shoulders. Just a paycheck? What a bullshit artist he really was.

"Hey," a soft voice said from behind him, bringing him out of his guilt ridden fugued state. " You've been out here an awfully long time. Anything I can help you with?"

Standing up, he turned to see her, her long blond hair swept back behind her by the cool sea breeze that flowed off the Atlantic. Through the disappearing rays of sunlight, he could see the love and concern in her eyes and it melted through a tiny piece of the wall that he put up after hearing about Wally. Just the mere sight of Calleigh's beauty and love was enough to bring him back , despite the way he was feeling.

"Just thinking," he responded almost in a whisper as he dropped his gaze, evading her piercing green eyes.

"I heard about your case, Tim, and I'm sorry. But there was nothing you could've done. Wally was one of those,..."

"Who was reaching out. He was reaching out and I practically snubbed him. I was too focused on what I wanted to see what Wally was," Tim interrupted almost angrily.

"You were doing your job, Tim. You're a CSI, your job is to gather evidence and catch the killer. It's not far fetched to believe that you'd done any less than what was expected of you. Don't let this drown you."

Tim looked up at her, the concern settling heavily on her eyes. She'd seen this before, the guilt that he had laden on himself when it was very apparent that he couldn't have done anything more than what he did. But just like with Hollis, he felt deeply, the responsibility as it sat heavily on his shoulders.

"It's not that easy to let go, Cal," Tim sighed, remembering what Horatio had said to him shortly after arresting Fisch. "I've tried, believe me, I've tried."

"Tim, Wally was responsible for his life and death. He did this to himself and you had nothing to do with it."

"I had everything to do with it, Calleigh," Tim responded as he turned around, facing the sinking sun. "I-I didn't listen, I didn't observe. I could've helped him."

"So, you're a psychologist now?" Calleigh asked with a smile, her attempts to lightening the situation falling on deaf ears. Noticing his stiff demeanor, she approached him from behind, encircling his waist and squeezing gently, " Tim, just by talking to him and taking the time with him, you gave him some sort of peace. In a way, you did help him."

"Really?" Tim asked, his sarcasm surfacing, " Surprisingly, he's still dead."

Calleigh released him and spun him around to face her, her soft expression dwindling into a stern gaze. Sometimes she had to give it to him straight from the hip so that he could see his way out of the guilt. Months of getting to know him had taught her that despite who Tim tried to portray himself to be, underneath all the gruff exterior, was a bleeding heart of gold. When this man felt, it was a powerful thing.

"Okay , Tim, alright, what do you want me to say? That you killed him? That your pursuit to apprehend a known murderer killed Wally Shmagin? Is that what you want?"

" I don't know Calleigh. There were things..." Tim responded as he looked away, feeling his throat tighten. This was where he didn't want to tread. His past had left a horrid scar on him, but it had made him who he was and he could thank Megan Donner for catching him when he reached out, much like what Wally had done. " Things that I should've noticed."

"Babe, help me to understand, because , I'm lost, I'm just not getting it. Wally was suicidal, he covered it well, but that's the truth of the matter,"Calleigh responded, a tiny bit of anger sweeping in. " You're expertise lies in the field of trace, not the human psyche."

Tim stood back as he gazed at her, seeing the spitfire southern traits that usually surfaced when she wasn't getting her point across. He should've been angry at her for being presumptuous, but he couldn't blame her for her tenacity. Oddly, he welcomed it. It was serving as a catalyst to pull something out of him that he never wanted anyone else to see, but was tired of carrying it around. He wanted release.

"But that's the point, Calleigh. He didn't hide it well, not to eyes that have seen it," Tim returned putting a hand on his brow and closing his eyes. The heaviness began to overtake him, telling him that he couldn't do it, he couldn't relinquish the pain and guilt that hovered over him for so long.

"Tim..."

"I was Wally..."

"Excuse me?" Calleigh asked, arching an eyebrow in confusion. Tim dropped his hand and opened his eyes, staring into her expectant green orbs, gaining some sense of strength from them. He took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, he was ready.

" I was the one reaching out , desperate for someone to catch me. After Robert died in high school, I had this overwhelming weight of guilt on my back. I tried to run from it, and when I couldn't run anymore, I tried to face it. Facing it didn't help my efforts to relieve myself, so I ran again. I found myself here in Miami, trying to find absolution in Robert's death. Somehow, Megan pulled me from that edge that I was teetering on. She showed me that there was a way to work through the pain, the guilt. She showed me now to make it right. And now, here ten years later, I slam the door in another tortured soul's face."

Calleigh watched him, seeing the single tear trickle down his face. Without another thought, she embraced him tightly, feeling the heaviness of his sorrow flowing off of him. His moment of release had come. Repositioning herself, she held on to him, letting him know through her actions and love, that she wasn't going anywhere. Just like with Hollis, she would be there to catch him and raise him up again.

After a moment longer, he parted with her as she swept her golden locks from her eyes, a small , comforting smile crawling across her face. It was then that he knew that he was cherished and that he cherished her. To be able to have shared this with her was somewhat of a relief and solidified everything for him. The pain wouldn't go away overnight, but with her in his life, he could work his way through it, little by little.

"Feel better?" she asked softly , caressing his cheek that, was as usual, covered with his stubble ,inadvertently wiping his tears.

"Somewhat," he responded, the grief still evident in his voice. He looked up at her, a small grin appearing. "So, this is a first. You've seen me cry. Remember this moment."

"I may have seen you cry, Tim, but you know what, it only makes me love you more. It's human to feel, babe, and yes, to cry. Some men don't get that concept, but it's healthy and natural to release your emotions. It doesn't make you any less of a man. Frankly, if you didn't cry, I could swear that you were a robot," Calleigh said as she drew herself closer. "A sarcastic, annoyed little robot."

Tim chuckled lightly as he reached around her and grasped her around her waist, and bringing his free hand to caress her soft skin. Gazing into her clear eyes, he lost himself in them, finally realizing that Wally's death had taught him something.

"Thank you," he said as he inched closer, taking her lips softly. The kiss held just enough for Calleigh, its tenderness touching her deeply.

"I only came out to get you for dinner," she answered, her accent slipping, "but, if I helped, I'm glad."

"You did," Tim returned, kissing her again, this time, the passion surfacing a bit more. He released his hold on her and she turned slowly to face the horizon just as the sun disappeared. Lying her head against his chest, breathing in his essence, and feeling his arms encase her, she sighed contentedly. Tim would always carry this with him, but knowing that he didn't heave it onto his shoulders as a burden was good enough for her.

"So, what's next?" she asked, closing her eyes, savoring the moment.

"First, I'm going to dip you..."

"Wh- what? Don't you dare, Timothy Speedle," Calleigh responded quickly , shooting up from her resting position to see a devilish , yet harmless smile on his face. She bent to dip her hands in the water and splashed him, then smacked him on the arm, " Not funny."

"Actually, it was," Tim said as he reached his hand out, feeling her tiny one in his. "You should've seen the look on your face. It was classic."

" I bet. So, are you able to get up and do this again tomorrow?"

Tim took a last glance at the horizon, seeing the faint glow of the last of the sun, nodding his head, " Sure."

End