Title: Drabble(s) #005
Author: ezra_t
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Pairing: Ryan/Eric
Rating: R
Warning: Character Death. Suicide. Angst.
Spoilers for: Season 5, Episode 22: Burned
Season 5, Episode 23: Kill Switch
Depending on how you take the story.
Summary: 005. He was mess and he just couldn't be fixed.
Disclaimer: I do own the circumstances. I don't own the people.***
005. Mess
He felt empty, sad and alone. And he knew that this was the lowest he would ever come. He had nothing. No friends, no family and sadly no love. He was jobless and a failure. He couldn't even look himself in the eye anymore. Not after all that he had done. He realized that Eric had been right. All this time Eric had seen past what even he had fooled himself into seeing. He was a failure. A no talent hack too busy trying to prove himself.
He sighs, eyes not looking up as he placed his hands on the bathroom sink bowl.
Timothy Speedle had left too big of shoes to fill and he had been a fool for trying to take on the challenge. He should have known that he wouldn't make it. That he would screw up sooner and later, and he wiped his face. Horatio had been an obvious godsend. Giving him more chances than he deserved. He didn't hold it against the man that he had been laid off. There was no way Horatio could have down played what was right there in everybody's face.
His fist went flying into the mirror and he stood still, breathing hard. Finally looking up into the mirror he found himself strangely transfixed by the distorted image of himself. He did not even blink twice at the pain in his hand, didn't even shudder as the blood stained his pristine white carpet as he slowly walked away from his sink and sank to the floor in the tight spot between his toilet and his bathtub.
Ignoring the sharp pain of his bloody hand he fisted his hair, and banged his head against the wall behind him.
How could he have been so foolish?
So dumb and careless?
Didn't he realize that what he was doing could affect his work?
And now because of his stupid mistake many guilty people may be freed.
With a humorless chuckle, he realized that the distorted image of himself in the broken mirror resembled his jumbled mind and emotions. He was a broken wreck and he didn't deserve fixing. Finally after siting for some moments he stood, looking to himself in the mirror once more and not caring to clean the blood now staining his face, he left the bathroom, the bottle of his anxiety medicine clutched firmly in his one good hand. He was on auto-pilot dodging chairs and tables, and in his current state of mind he was much like a robot, not even hearing the ringing of his phone. He walked into the kitchen grabbing a big cup of water and with out hesitation he swallowed all fifty of his pills.
"The only way to fix a mess," his mother had once said to him "is to get rid of it quickly so that it can not spread it's filth any further."
And damn it he was a mess.
Spreading his filth everywhere.
Harming innocent people.
He didn't know why he didn't see it before but as he sank on the floor, eyes going black around the edges he realized he would never really have to wonder again after tonight. And for the first time he smiled. Not even hearing his answering machine go.
"Ryan? It's me Eric. I'm coming over okay?...And Ryan? I'm sorry. I love you y'know? I'll see you in a bit"***
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