Chapter Twenty-one: Just want you to Know

How he managed to fall asleep at work was beyond him. The worries of the day must have exhausted him mentally and his body hurt physically. There was the dull throb of pain in his chest, the ache in his neck from the position he'd been sleeping in, and there was a low hum in his head that might have been the beginning of a headache. He ground the palms of his hands into his eyes to chase away the sleep, waiting for someone to yell at him for sleeping on the job. But he was the only one in the room. Almost on autopilot he reached for his cell phone to check if he missed any calls. He hadn't. The next thing he did was check his watch. His shift had ended nearly an hour ago so someone must have been aware that he was sleeping on the job. As he pushed his stool away from the table he wondered how long he'd been asleep and how much work had been done while he was out. There was one way to find out, ask someone. But what if by chance they weren't aware that he'd been sleeping? Yawning and stretching he headed for the hallway. With the shift over he figured there was only one person he could count on for hanging around after hours.

He knocked on the door to Horatio's office. A second later he opened it to find his boss writing something in a file that lay open atop his desk. He cleared his throat somewhat nervously, thinking that perhaps this hadn't been the best idea. He'd been slipping up a lot on the job lately and falling asleep when a detective was missing only made matters worse. When he settled into one of the chairs across from Horatio he didn't find the comfort that he usually did. This time he'd fucked up.

Horatio looked at him with a twinkle in his eye. "Enjoy your rest?"

If he had been the blushing type that would have been the prime moment. "Uh…I…" He licked his lips somewhat nervously.

"Don't worry about it, Speed," Horatio said, letting the pen rest on the desk. "I figured you weren't sleeping all that well at home so I instructed the others to let you be. However, I'd like for it not to happen again, if possible. We're working on a rather delicate case and I need my best investigators on it…"

"I'm sorry, H, really. I have been having issues getting to sleep or staying that way but I never thought it would catch up with me at work," he explained feeling guilty the entire time. "So what did I miss?"

"The blood test on the gun came back positive, it belongs to Hagen," replied Horatio with a voice full of emotion. "At the time being he's still missing and we have no leads as to where he could possibly be. I sent Frank and Jake out to check on an old warehouse known to belong to the militia. Though they found boxes of canned food they didn't find evidence of the group having been there in a few weeks, maybe months. As much as I hate to say it we have hit a brick wall. There's something we're missing."

"How about that tattoo?"

"DNA belongs to an unknown but I'm sure we've have a victim that we just haven't found yet," Horatio told him.

Speed shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his chair. "Is there something I can help with? I mean, I feel bad for falling asleep while everyone else did their jobs…"

"At the moment I don't have anything for anyone to do," he said. "All our leads have become dead ends. Unless they try to contact us or slip up we've got nothing and can't go anywhere. But I thank you for the offer. You should go home and try to catch a few more hours in your bed. I want you to be well rested tomorrow."

"All right," Speed said. He stood from the chair and headed toward the door. He looked back over his shoulder, his hand on the doorknob. "Don't work yourself too hard, H. Don't worry, we'll find him. They always manage to slip up in the long run."

--

The night air felt so refreshing and cool when he stepped out of the building that instead of heading for his motorcycle he opted to go for a walk around the block. He figured that the walk would be a good way to get the blood circulating through his body and help wake him up a bit more so that he could drive home. As usual the streets were far from empty, many people working late or going out to party at one of the many clubs in downtown Miami. There was a time in his life when he would have been one of those people but lately he hadn't felt much like himself. He did miss hanging out with Delko and Calleigh at the clubs, having a drink and doing some dancing. But he couldn't find it within himself to party it up when he felt like he was minutes away from having a breakdown. And thinking about Delko made him feel guilty all over again. He realized that his behavior was harming his friendship with the other man, the one that had confessed his love. What he'd said earlier that day about not knowing what to do was true, he had no clue what he was going to do. He was unsure of how he felt for his friend and even if there were feelings of love he'd be afraid to act on them. His past wouldn't let him free. Or was it the fact that he wouldn't let it go?

Shoving his hands into his pockets he walked around the corner, slipping into a dark patch on the sidewalk. He wasn't even thinking about his safety. It was something he often neglected to dwell on, perhaps because he usually walked around with a gun and it gave him a sense of security. After the shooting in the jewelry store he'd become somewhat obsessed with keeping his gun clean. He never wanted to relive that day. He began to wonder if it was a bad thing to rely so much on his gun; which he could feel in the holster on his hip, the weight comforting.

Someone driving down the road honked. He looked to see a group of rowdy teens driving a bit over the speed limit. He knew that if they weren't careful they would end up in the hospital or even in Alexx's morgue. He shook his head, wondering why people felt the need to drive recklessly. His attention on the car full of teens he didn't noticed the black shadow that was heading toward him. Not until it was too late. The figure grabbed him roughly by the upper arm, nails digging into his shirt and causing him to let out a grunt of pain. Before he could fully register what was happening he was being forced backward, stumbling on the dark sidewalk. Then he was swung around, his body stopping when it connected with a brick wall, his breath hitching. He thought about going for his gun but the person in front of him stopped those thoughts in one simple motion.

The figure had a gun.

One that he pressed to Speed's chest.

Right over the scar.

He put his hands up and tried not to let panic get a good hold of him. But just as he felt like he was going to unravel the gun eased away from his chest, the figure letting it drop away. He still made no move for his gun knowing that it might very well be the last move he ever made. For a moment neither one of them moved and neither one of them spoke. He was beginning to think that nothing was going to happen when the figure raised the gun again, this time pointing it at Speed's head.

Speed opened his mouth to say something. He was cut off by the gunman. "I could kill you…they would love me if I did but…I should just shoot you and get it over with…"

"Please…" Speed managed to choke out.

"Shut up," the gunman barked, pressing the barrel against Speed's forehead. "I'm not going….I can't….dammit. Forget about that detective. Tell them to forget about him or there will be consequences…you have to know…there are consequences," the guy said, his voice dropping down to a panicked whisper. "Don't piss them off…don't…the detective, forget about him. He's a lost cause…"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Instead of answering him with words the gunman swung his hand out. Speed knew what was coming and tried to move but he was too slow to react, the butt of the gun connecting with his head. He fell to his knees, a hand going to the wound and coming away sticky with blood. He reached for his gun too late, the gunman having already faded into the darkness. He sat heavily on the ground, his back resting against the brick wall. He winced in pain as the headache began to settle in. His inner voice kept telling him that he had to get back to the lab and relay the message to Horatio but he couldn't bring himself to move. The panic that he'd been trying to keep at bay was finally getting a good foothold on him, his body trembling. A moment later he felt the tears sliding down his cheeks.