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Chapter Fifty-five: Everything I Own

He looked at the building before him, the imposing brick and glass, and wondered for the umpteenth time that morning if he was really up for this. All morning the same question had been racing through his mind, going 'round and 'round in circles and never letting him have any peace. He ran from his past, from the problems and troubles that happened only because of his choice of profession. He ran to other states as a way of seeking solace for the pain that never seemed to leave him alone long enough to enjoy a moment of the day. His hands had shaken that morning as he buttoned up his shirt. There had been a dull pain in his chest that he'd grown all too familiar with after all these months. And now here he was, sitting beside Horatio in the Hummer wondering if he really had the courage to open the door and step out into the bright sunlight. Part of him longed to go back to the safety of his apartment, or even back to Horatio's house. Running was easier than following his boss through those doors and into the lab, the place he knew so well he could walk it blindfolded.

"Are you sure that you're ready for this?" Horatio asked, voicing his very thought, the bane of his worry. "I don't want to push you. Don't force yourself to do this, Speed, if you aren't wholly committed. It'll only cause more problems in the long run."

More problems, just what he didn't need or want. He swallowed down the lump forming in his throat, slowly nodding his head and wondering if maybe he'd completely lost his mind. "I'm ready," he said, licking his lips. Where the hell had those words come from? Who was he trying to kid, he wasn't ready for this place. Yet he opened the door and put his foot on the smooth black top, then the other. The wind ruffled his hair. He closed the door and started after Horatio, lagging a step behind, always ready to bolt if it got to be too much.

Could he really walk into the building and go about life like nothing had changed? Could he just sit at the table in Trace, working the machines and getting results like he'd been there the last few weeks? And what about the rest of them? Maybe they didn't even really want to see him. Like a coward he'd fled when things got too hard, too dark, and he hadn't said a damned thing to any of them. Not even a goodbye, no notes left behind to be read and reread. The only one he talked to since leaving was walking in front of him like it was any other normal day. Would Ryan look at him warily? Would Calleigh be mad? Would Delko even remember who he was? The only person he expected to get a warm welcome from was Alexx, though he knew she'd be angry but that's because she cared so deeply about all of them.

They walked through the door. Speed stopped just on the other side of the threshold. The place looked the exact same, smelled the same, sounded the same. It was like going back in time to another life instead of just returning to a place where he once felt safe. The officers buzzing about didn't even bother to give him a second glance, the criminalists acting the same way. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he was back at Horatio's lying in the bed in the guest bedroom, tossing and turning as this nightmare played out. He half expected a monster to jump out from around the corner or for someone to start shooting while others ran around screaming. But nothing like that happened. And slowly he relaxed, letting out the breath he'd been holding without even realizing it.

"How are you doing so far?" Horatio asked.

"Good," Speed quickly lied to cover up his remaining fear. "It's just…"

Horatio offered a kind smile. "Give it time. It all takes time."

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Delko whistled as he walked down the hallway. He'd spent the better part of the morning busily processing a crime scene with Ryan. Some poor soul had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, thus leaving them with two deaths instead of one. Why couldn't drug dealers be a little more careful when they started shooting? Of course, if the criminals started being careful he would be out of job that he was blessed to still have in the first place. After getting shot in the head he'd been worried that he'd never once again be able to do anything of use. Much to his surprise his recovery was quick and his mind hadn't been affected too much. Sure, he was still plagued with headaches and sometimes he would forget things but every day he also remembered a little more, the pieces of who he was falling back into the proper places. It had been a week since his last mistake on the job and even then, it had only been a really minor one; labeling the evidence bag wrong. He hadn't misplaced anything, hadn't compromised any evidence. He really owed a lot to Calleigh and Ryan and Horatio for being there for him, always ready to point out gently that he was doing something wrong and let him figure out the right way to do things. Soon, aside from the visible scar, nobody would even know that anything traumatic and potentially life-altering had happened.

As he walked down the hallway he swung the brown paper bag at his side. He was taking it to Trace for Ryan to process later, when he got back from the gun locker with evidence for Calleigh. Then he had a bit of work of his own to do, going over all the photos taken at the crime scene to see if anything jumped out at him, anything out of the ordinary or at least worth bringing to the attention of the others. He expected the Trace Lab to be empty when he opened the door so when he saw Speed sitting there he stopped dead in his tracks. There sat his best friend, pale blue lab coat on, headphones around his neck, eyes reading a piece of paper, almost like he'd never been gone. In the beginning Delko had a hard time remembering certain events that had taken place, like the death of his sister, but the one thing that remained strong and true were his memories of Speed. He recalled their friendship, the time they spent together, the jokes they made at work, the way he'd confessed to Speed his true feelings, and how their friendship had gotten rocky toward the end. He half convinced himself he was ready to move on, to turn his affection toward someone else.

But now he knew that would have been a lie. Staring at Speed, who was oblivious to his presence, he felt all the same feelings stirring inside. Even after all this time he still loved Speed, that desire to be with him still burning.

"Speed…" he spoke his name.

Speed turned to look at him, a momentary flash of fear in his eyes. "Delko."

He wanted to tell Speed that he still loved him, that he still owned every fiber of his heart and that it was great to see him, to have him back at the lab. But the words wouldn't come. He awkwardly put the bag on the table. "Some evidence that needs processing. When you're done, let Frank know, please? He'll be waiting for it." And like a coward, without saying another word, he left the room.