A/N: Almost done and I hope it is as satisfying as I thought it out.

Horatio, Mac and their respective CSIs (c) CBS, Daikonran and Secondet (c) my sister

16, Lethargy

As soon as Kino finished his interview, Mac rushed to talk to him. Apparently the intimidation tactics worked like a charm due to the unused syringe and the lack of projectile ash on his clothes. Taylor called out his name, catching Kino's attention.

"What can I do for New York's finest pain in the ass?"

"Now, now; why the hostility?" Mac studied his former coworker. Daikonran was strained almost to the breaking point, and now he had to report to the chief of medicine over at DADE Memorial.

"I have a ten-year-old waiting with her baby brother in her arms for me over at reception; make it quick." Kino was referring to his youngest children with Secondet, Lambda and Ciél Kino. Using his doctor money, he managed to get them both into the Conservatory of Musical Arts in Miami to hone their musical talents. Horatio never missed every time the girl practiced over on the lobby; the way she sang her vocals as her baby brother followed the tunes with chirps put his tense nerves at rest.

Mac then retold his experience with the lieutenant during the Henderson investigation; Daikonran's curiosity peaked.

"And you say the buzzing began after you found Speedle?"

"No, that was the loud flap; the buzzing began when we arrived here. Then there's Tammy's request." The detective replied, scratching his head. "And I'm positive it wasn't because of the bullet."

"I'll try to find out what's wrong, you just show up over at DADE Memorial, suite 501." Daikonran then headed to Wolfe's post, hoping for a full identification on the body parts they had found in Doña Socorro's place. Placing a lab coat over his Chinese-style shirt, he covered his mouth with a paper mask to stop the spread of possibly acrid bacteria. Ryan was there but his eyes were closed and his head suspended by his palms. Despite this, the CSI had assembled a full male torso, the entire lower half of a woman, a right arm that looked like it had been ripped, a left foot and a partial hand, all catalogued and properly identified.

"Great job but what are you doing now?"

"Trying to figure out what Doña Socorro would use all of these for. I mean, why would she have done so many trial runs when all she needed was one per kid?" Ryan pondered out loud.

"Maybe because she had to perfect her technique. Necromancy has never been a perfected art, largely out of fear. Most people want to have a submissive partner, someone that will obey them, no questions asked." Kino explained as he observed the hand closely. He held the hand to Ryan and let it dangle.

"You see those nicks along the thumb and index fingers? These mean that the tissue tried to regenerate without guidance. A necromancer or reanimator in this case practically guides the dead into coming back, so the whole 'spontaneous revival' is bullshit as long as there's human hand involved."

"So what you're telling me that Doña Socorro is a fake?"

"More like a fluke. Most reanimators don't actually bring back the dead on their first try. The lady must've been trying to find her niche, her own personal technique. Add supply-and-demand and we get rushed trial runs, misbehaving zombies, like the one that attacked you, among other side effects. She tried to cheat her way by making cheaper sacrifices for bigger demand."

Ryan's mind clicked. " 'In order to obtain a desired product, an equal amount of reactants and reactors must be added to achieve the wanted reaction.' Right?"

Kino smirked, impressed. "And you thought of this all by yourself?"

Wolfe retorted, "Preternatural and medical science may be your domain, but Physics and Chemistry are mine."

Horatio had so many questions in him, some more childish than investigative. But all lead to the same one that came out of his mouth,

"Tell me what happened the day you came back."

Speedle sighed profoundly before he began. "I don't remember anything other than taking my first breath. It was like I was taking a breather after being underwater for too long. I was strapped to a rusted stretcher and I couldn't open my mouth. I looked around to see many used cutting utensils and even more blood and gore. It looked like an old operating room complete with abandoned corpses and used scrubs. The doctor came in, cut the stitches in my mouth with a professional scalpel and told me I was to serve her."

"Doctor? There was a doctor presiding?"

"She didn't look like a doctor; she had a formal blue dress with loads of sequins, her breasts practically falling out it, her face made up and all. I didn't know better. Apparently I was a failure."

Horatio growled under his breath; Marla had dared call one of his CSIs a failure. "And why is that?"

"My first job was to hide some evidence for a local entrepreneur and I missed my cue. She took me by the hair and tossed me into storage." Tim managed to respond, the traumatic event reliving in his eyes.

Horatio tried not to strain Speed but he had to ask, "What do you mean 'storage'?" He saw the man tremble uncontrollably.

"It was like an oversized drawer but without air holes. She told me that she would take me out when I learned to get my act together. I don't know how long I stayed but the calendar said it was September. I half-expected to die in there but…well here I am." Speed rubbed his forehead. "Anyways, I wasn't allowed to listen to the local news, or any communication. Marla told me that I was an abomination for the rest of the world and I'd be eliminated on sight."

Typical brainwashing technique, cut off the subject from the world, keep him ignorant. Horatio thought.

"So I tried to get rid of my past life. I knew I had been a cop since I still had my badge so I wrote down every name that came into my mind in a scrap of paper and buried them in the hospital's basement." Speedle then looked up to Horatio's eyes. "I knew I could never be Tim Speedle again, I'd committed so many horrible things to claim that name. "

Horatio patted the man on the back and replied genially, "You never stopped being him. You still had your own thoughts and that was Speedle all the way." Noting the hour and completely dismissing it, Caine continued with his interrogation that was slowly becoming a reunion with a long-lost friend. "All you need is motivation." He outstretched his hand.

"Are you willing to be Speed again? Or do you want to go back to your boss? Personally, being an assassin is way easier than being a cop, much less a crime scene investigator. Either way, you're free to go."

Speed hesitated but accepted Horatio's offer and shook his hand. He smiled gratefully as the gesture broke Marla's enforced contract and established a new one with the lieutenant. "I can tell you who my master was, and where she's located."

"That can wait. First, let's get you cleaned up."

Delko and Tripp presided over Walter Thompson's interrogation while Calleigh helped Ryan with his evidence. Both men prayed the woman had a cast-iron stomach as the process began. Walter dressed in an expensive Armani suit that went way above what Delko made in a year, six months at it's cheapest.

"We found your fingerprints in a pocket watch near the site where your daughter was found." Eric started, opening a manila folder and showing the man his evidence.

"I might've touched it while Glencoe was working. He always brought her to work; he's a good man." Mr. Thompson replied. "I have witnesses to corroborate that. All my coworkers thought it was a cruel joke to my dead wife."

Delko's eyebrows cocked, "Evidence says otherwise. I dated the print and its particles tell us that you must've handled said pocket watch either outside or inside the St. Lucia Inn. The other fingerprints are from Tyler Perry, the go-between and Felicity herself." Seeing Mr. Thompson's staged surprise (or was it? He couldn't tell for certain), the CSI went on. "Human skin is coated with oil and this particular oil is very sticky. So sticky in fact, that it captures airborne particles from the environment and glues it into the ridges of fingerprints."

Eric made a mental note to thank Natalia for mentioning that in a previous case.

"In layman's terms, we found dust belonging to lead-based paint and degraded wood, all belonging to the St. Lucia Inn." Frank retold with his characteristic bluntness.

Mr. Thompson motioned his head forward. "Like you said, oil is sticky stuff. They might've adhered when Felicity came into the area. All you have is that I touched Felicity's watch."

"We've got more than that." Frank stated. "We've got a witness."

And for the first time in the length that Frank had spent with Mr. Thompson, he saw the man become genuinely worried. And you thought you outsmarted me. "You see you thought you knocked out the go-between but you didn't check. If you did, you'd be in a body bag too with a guy that batty."

Eric wanted to explode in laughter; no way Frank had just said that. Out of respect and his endangering rib cage, he suppressed the laughter and let the detective follow through. "He told one of our investigators that he had seen a man wrestle with Felicity until she fell into the hole."

"Could've been anyone." Walter tried to stand his ground but Eric had one more ace.

"That's Armani, right?"

Thompson seemed wary to answer. "Yes. Custom-made."

"And I'm willing to bet that you've got more than a few at home." Delko waited until Walter took the bait. "So what's that got to do with anything?"

"We could get a search warrant and tear your suits apart and I'm also willing to bet my year's salary that one of them might have Felicity's epithelials just around the sleeve rims." Eric pushed on.

"God knows you need to look your best for when we finally find that little girl's skin cells or nail fragments from the fight had." Frank chided, staring into Mr. Thompson's dropping face.

Otis arrived two minutes later than Marla had ordered but his high was still circulating through his veins. The little girl was tussled and, like Ruthy, vainly trying to cry. Marla simply gave him a wicked glare and took the girl. She inspected the girl thoroughly before handing her off to another of her servants.

"Slightly damaged but nothing a bit of make up can't fix." She then wrote on a receipt notebook the name and age before death. "She'll be going to a madam I have in Orlando. Not bad for your first order of business." She grinned. "Guess losing Speedle was worth getting you into my business."

She held a flask filled with an acrid yellow liquid. "Now drink and we can finalize your induction."

"What is it?" Stuart asked warily.

"Cyanide mixed with my blood. First it kills you and then makes you immortal."

"But I escaped the death penalty!" Otis yelled, now regretful of the deal he made.

"No, I saved you from the chair and you did agree to work with me." Marla enjoyed this moment, the moment in which human desire and error became gross mistakes, the moment in which humans couldn't escape her power.

All it took was one swig and Otis was dead.

A/N: Reviews are always welcome!