A/N: Well, I went on a Miami craze a while ago and then after watching season seven, this suddenly appeared in my head and refused to leave. Don't blame me - blame the muse! Which is, um….Miami. (Apparently.)

As promised, chapter two has more of a plot to it, and it will mark the start of Ryan's troubles, okay? Enjoy.
Two chapters in one day, you lucky things...

Warning - contains swearing, drinking and images of violence, so if you do not like, please don't read and then flame me after for it, as I did warn you.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own any CSI Miami characters or storylines. If I did, I would have one hell of a fun time. ;) Also, I do not own the lyrics below - that honour goes to the awesome Audioslave ("Cochise") and especially to Chris Cornell.

Drown if you want-
and I'll see you in the bottom
Where you crawl…
On my skin…
And put the blame on me …
So you don't feel a thing …

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Drink Nine.

****************

"You want another?" The barkeeper sounded incredulous. It was no wonder - the young man before him whom he had been served for quite some time now had drunk a lot, and what he had been drinking was strong.

There was a raising of the dark head and a sharp nod issued. "Yeah…" Then a wave of a hand. "Gimme… Another…"

"Look, I don't think you should have another, okay?" The barkeeper tried to keep his voice quiet and soothing. He had been in the business for a long, long time now, and he knew from experience when a customer had had too much. He wasn't one of those guys who activity encouraged the poor people to keep drinking in order to get more money - rather, he liked to look after his customers, especially the regulars. The new faces, since he didn't know them, didn't get the exact same treatment but a close approximation of it. But this young man, for some reason, raised his concern.

Maybe it was because he looked so young; too young to be so reliant on alcohol, or maybe it was because (and here the barkeeper had to be honest with himself - it was probably this reason) he looked so much like his son. His son who had died of an overdose. His son who had drunk himself into a stupor before going crazy with drugs. It was always painful, thinking of his Alex. The boy who would never have a family, or have a long life. So he'd be dammed if he let this man in front of him, who resembled Alexx so vividly in feature start to resemble him in is life.

"Come on, son." The term of endearment slipped out without his knowing. There was a brief pause in which the young man raised his head, showing to the barkeeper vivid brown orbs and a bruised face with a spilt lip. He looked terrible.

Poor kid… Daniel Lennox, a.k.a fatherly barkeeper thought to himself. He looks like hell. I'm not having him drink more so he ends up looking worse, if that's even possible.

The young man merely shrugged - a slow and meticulous move of the shoulders, indicating that it was painful movement. He leant back into the seat, hanging his head once more.

"…Lisssten…I…" The words were sluggish and slurred - a common enough complaint. The dark haired man, whom Daniel was fighting not to call Alex ran a shaking hand through already ruffled hair. "…I…Jussst need more…"

"You know you've had enough for tonight. Why don't you head on home?" Daniel suggested, leaning on the bar and reaching to take the glass in front of the man away. He continued talking in the hope he could distract the kid in front of him inorder to take away the glass.

The kid was sharp though; amazingly sharp for one so sodden with alcohol.

He slammed a hand on the glass - once again showing quick reactions for someone so heavily intoxicated - and pulled it towards him, turning the hand from something on the attack to the defensive; and wrapped the hand around the glass, almost to his chest.

He looked up again and Daniel was struck by the sheer despair written so clearly in those dark brown eyes.

"Look…I jussst want ssssome more…Alright? Pleasssse…" The voice sounded broken; the perfect voice for a broken and desperate man.

Daniel was about to tell the man that he couldn't let him do that to himself; he was about to beg him about going home or getting friends to pick him up when a crisp voice ran out from the opposite side of the bar.

"Oy, Barman! If he wants to drink, let him drink!" The voice seemingly belonged to a tall blonde man, casually posing on the bar, a glass perched elegantly in his hand. He smirked at Daniel, before looking over at the slumped figure of the Alex look-alike.

"Well, my friend, you seem rather down tonight…" The man slowly made his way up the bar and sat beside the young man, his crisp Texan accent sounding harsh on his drink-riddled brain.

"Th…Thanksss…" He murmured, his eyes flickering up to his apparent saviour; the one who would grant him access to more mind-numbing and pain-forgetting in the form of a drink.

"Oh, it is no problem, my little friend. No problem at all! Now, what else would you like?" The blonde-haired man said cheerily, titling his head to one side.

"Look, don't encourage him to drink, you fool! He's had enough -" Daniel started to say but was interrupted by a casual wave of the hand and a wide grin.

"Oh, it's always the same with you, Mr Lennox. Constantly worrying about all the little alcos here. But remember, if it wasn't for us, you wouldn't have any business now, would you?" He said, his grin for a moment becoming something else. Something dark.

Then suddenly he was grinning again, draping an arm around the dark haired kid.

"Well, if Mr Teetotaller here is going to stop us drinking, we could always head around to another place. What do you think? I know some nice little spots. What do you think about that? Wanna give it a go?"

"Look, he doesn't know you. And he's drunk! For Christ's sake, leave him be!" Daniel said in pure vexation, throwing his hands in the air and pointing at the blonde haired man. "I'm not letting you just drag him off somewhere!"

"Oh, what are you now? His daddy? How sweet, Mr Lennox. Adopting strays now, are we?"

"I swear -"

"Oh, swear all you like. He wants to come with me, right?" He turned to the young man and smirked. "Don't ya?"

The owner of the dark eyes looked confused and understandably anxious. He went to stand up, or maybe push the blonde haired man away - Daniel couldn't tell which - but he could only attempt a rather weak shove which was easily deflected by his once called saviour.

"Thankssss…But I don't know you!" He let out a wince as the blonde haired man tightened his hold on his arm with a little laugh.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that!" Here he laughed, before taking a sip of his drink. He swallowed and grinned, "I always forget introductions. Well, I'm Blake. Blake Smith. And you are, my little friend?"

"I'm…I'm Ryan." Daniel caught the name and told himself to remember it along with that face. He had a vague suspicion that this blonde creep, who didn't appear to be one of his regulars, wasn't up to any good, and he wanted to ensure that he could be of help, if it was required of him to be helpful.

"Ryan, eh? Well Ryan, I think you and I should get to know each other better and share our tales of woe, what about you?" Without waiting for an answer, Blake stood up and stretched, before carelessly throwing down a wad of rolled-up dollar bills and slinging his coat over on arm, peered down at Ryan.

"So? You coming then?"

The dark haired man looked up. He looked down at his glass before him before swinging his sight towards the barkeeper who had been so caring. He was torn. Part of him wanted to stay here under the influence of alcohol but with a fatherly figure there with him, and then head off home and sleep while the other part of him wanted to simply get more drunk. The more drunk he was, the better he would feel about what had so recently happened to him. The more drunk he was, the less he would remember. The less he remembered, the less pain he would feel. It was a win/win, really. So no contest. He glanced up to this Blake guy and attempted a grin.

"Ssssure, jusss' gimme a minute…Yeah?" He felt his tongue stumble over the words, but he was pretty certain the meaning got across when he held up his finger to show he would only be a minute.

Blake smiled, and then nodded. "Sweet. I'll meet you out front, alright? See ya in a bit, Ry!" He strode towards the bar door and soon vanished from sight.

Daniel looked at this Ryan and sighed. He decided to try one more tell to get him to leave and not go off with this other man; whom he had such a bad feeling about.

"Ryan?" He said, peering over at the kid.

Ryan looked up. "What?" His voice sounded, even to his own ears, rather abrupt and he shook his head, hating his tone of voice. He couldn't help it though - he always had been a bit of a light-weight and once he got drinking, he pretty much lost all control over everything - his emotions, being the first to go.

"Ssssorry…Didn't mean to ssssound ssso sshar- ssshar-" He suddenly giggled then - his laughter surprising Daniel - at his own lack of control when it came to forming words. "Y'know what I mean…" He waved his hands about to emphasis his point - what the point was, he had no idea, but he was sure there was one. Somewhere.

Daniel allowed himself to smile. He was liking this kid more and more - he was so like his own Alex and yet so different… He had to stop him from drinking anymore, and especially drinking with that other man who seemed to have 'bad news' written all over him.

"Yeah, I know what you mean…" He said, smiling lightly. "Ryan, look - I don't know why you're drinking; what's the reasoning behind it and I don't want to as that is, after all, your business -" He broke off as he saw the younger man visibly flinch at the mere mention of why he was drinking. He watched as he put his head down, apparently in a move that resembled shame. He opted for anther tactic.

"But I'm asking you here as someone who's concerned - don't make matters worse. Drinking won't solve your problems -"

"You don't know a thing about my problems! You don't have a fucking clue!" The change was startling - where there once was a giggling drunk, masking a broken and desperate man, there was now one who was angry, with his rage fuelled by alcohol.

The dark eyes sparked dangerously while he continued, "You don't know anything about me or my fucking life so jusss'… Leave me alone." He went to get up out of his seat, but Daniel pushed him back down.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ryan demanded. He went to get up again but this time Daniel pinned him back down, his hands having a firm hold on Ryan's shoulders. The younger man struggled furiously and then Daniel heard a faint wince. The kid was hurt somewhere and since he didn't want to hurt him, but rather help him, Daniel loosened his hold.

"I'm trying to help you, you silly boy!" Daniel couldn't help but sound like a father chastising his son - this was all too eerily reminiscent of the kind of fights Alex and he used to have several years ago. He had lost, then - let Alex slip through his fingers - but he'd be damned if he allowed history to repeat itself and him to repeat his mistakes once more. If he couldn't help Alex then, he could certainly attempt at helping this Ryan now.

"Listen to me - I have seen alcohol affect so many people, including my son! I know what I'm talking about!" He said, with his hands still on Ryan's shoulders.

"Well, how come you're running a bloody bar then, if you feel like that?" Ryan spat back. Even when drunk he was observant and quick on the ball.

Daniel paused, staring at him for a minute. He hadn't expected that - didn't realise the kid would be so quick with a comeback. He sighed, wondering what he could possibly say to get through to this young man, already heading down such a grim and dark road.

"Very funny, Mr Smartarse!" He snapped back, feeling his frustration slipping out. He wanted to help but didn't know how…But he was going to have one more go.

"If I run a bar, it means I can try to help those who come to here, right? If I feel that they're drinking too much I try to send them home. I get to know everyone; I get to find out why they're drinking anyway. They tell me what crap they're dealing with in their lives and I listen to them, okay? Now I'm not asking you do the same -"

"Damn straight!" Ryan muttered, yet he ceased struggling. He felt so drained; so exhausted and so utterly consumed with self-loathing. He sat there, not moving and with his eyes turn downwards. Daniel noticed this and felt a slight triumph - what he was saying was working and he was succeeding.

"Son, I don't know what has happened to you," - here Ryan flinched once more at the reference as to why he was here, yet Daniel ploughed on - "but I'm guessing it's not great. But please, don't turn to the bottle. It won't help, believe me. I'm telling you this because I care!" Daniel said softly.

Ryan put his head in his hands. He felt dangerously close to tears - here was a source of comfort and support which he so desperately wanted and needed. Normally he could have had this from his team at work, even though he never would take up this offer as he was the kind of guy who locked his feelings and threw away the key but now… Now he would never be able to tell them anything or ask for help, as they probably didn't want anything to do with him. And quite rightly so, for who wants to help someone like him?

He sighed. Earlier he had had an internal battle raging within him - two parts of him wanted different things. Now the battle had been won by one part, and he had made up his mind. He looked up into the kind eyes of the barkeeper.

"I don't even know your name…" He whispered. His tongue seemed thick and heavy and he felt that his throat was clogged, restricting his speech. Even he could hear how broken his voice sounded.

"It's Daniel. Daniel Lennox. And you're Ryan…?"

"Wolfe."

Daniel nodded. "Ryan, whatever it is you're going through, you don't have to go through it yourself. Don't suffer in silence." He said, looking at the younger man before him. "Don't shut your feelings away…"

Ryan lifted his head out of his hands and looked around him, sighing again before standing up. Daniel lifted his hands of his shoulders and waited. Had he managed to help? His heart was thudding while he wondered what was going through Ryan's head.

Ryan looked right at him, and Daniel could see the unshed tears reflected by the light over the bar.

The poor, poor kid…

For a minute nothing was said, and both men looked at each other. And then the silence was shattered by Ryan opening his mouth to speak.

"That's the problem. I have to walk this path alone, 'cause there's no one to walk it with me." As he said it, he was hit with the sudden understanding of his words. The realisation that he was alone stung and attacked him like a thousand tiny needles.

"But -" Daniel tried in vain to speak; to try and change the kid's mind but he was interrupted.

For Ryan's mind was not going to be changed.

"Ssssorry, Daniel." The slurring returned as Ryan spoke, putting down his glass which he had been holding all this time without knowing it. "Thankss for your help, but I'm ssssomeone that can't be helped. I'm just worthless."

And with those words Ryan made his way out of the bar, Daniel watching helplessly as he realised he had failed yet again, and that the consequences were too horrible to imagine.

Poor Ryan. Depressed and drunk. He needs a hug.

Well, what do you think? Yay or nay?