Title: When The Sobs Subside
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't' own CSI: Miami and never will. It's property of it's respective owners, whom I bow at the feet of. Nor do I own Name, by the Goo Goo Dolls.
Warnings: Slash?, Character Death
Spoilers: Uh, Speed died, in case you didn't know that...
Pairings: Ryan Wolfe x Tim "Speed" Speedle Rants: ZOMG. I've been writing CSI: Miami fics. I was trashing this show not two months ago. (Damn you Kasimiir!) Any way, this is kinda.. I don't know. Beware of OCC-ness. I'm still trying to get the hang of writing Miami fics...
Summary: It's been three months, two weeks, a day and seven and a half hours since the "accident".

I think about you all the time,
But I don't need the same,
It's lonely where you are, come back down,
And I won't tell 'em your name,
-Name, Goo Goo Dolls

x x x

Ryan would be fine when the sobs subsided. Well, as fine as he could get. The poor pillow never stood a chance, mutilated and twisted out of shape, drenched in tear stains and snot. He'd wash it later, if common since ever returned to him. Return... He blinked his eyes shut as a new wave of sobs hit him. He would never return, he'd left Ryan behind; left him behind with nothing but a few choice memories. Ryan should have hated him, he knew, but he couldn't bring himself to remember any of the bad memories.

He remembered learning how to waltz, which was quite the experience in itself, and he remembered their first date and how nervous he'd been. He remembered the first time they woke up, curled into each other. He didn't remember if they'd ever fought, but he was positive they had. He just didn't remember the specifics. It was probably about how much a slob he was compared to how much of a neat freak Ryan was. He used to taunt Ryan's OCD.

A few deep, calming breathes.

Ryan's head was spinning and he felt like he was going to puke but he knew it wouldn't be any good. Instead he rolled over on his bed, ignoring the swishy feeling in his head, lying on his side facing a simple picture frame. It used to be in the living room, but Ryan had moved it in here in an attempt to sleep better. It didn't help much, but at least he could still wake up next to him. He smiled bitterly, reaching out to brush his fingers against the picture's frame, stroking the silver frame gently.

This had been all he could think about, the only person to ever cross his mind since the accident. Even at work Ryan imagined he was there, standing over him, watching him, making sure he didn't mess up. At least, not mess up too badly. Ryan lifted the frame, cuddling it to his chest, curling his legs up his chin, around this remnant of their love, protecting it. He would have laughed at Ryan if he could see him, calling him an idiot to get so worked up over a picture, but he would have been touched.

Ryan's little antics always had amused him, even when he had been annoyed.

And now there was no one to jab Ryan in the ribs when he was being an idiot, no one to cuddle with him after a hard day's work, no one to have the tea ready when Ryan felt like exploding in either a fit of rage or tears. It had always been him. Ryan hadn't had that before. He hadn't had anyone before.

He didn't bother to wipe the tears pouring down his cheeks.

He realized he should probably attempt to move on, but he couldn't bring himself to, even after three months. Three months, two weeks, a day and seven and a half hours...

He bit his lower lip. He wished he didn't know that, wished he could forget it. It was fine until Alexx let him see the coroner's report. She knew who he was to him. She was the only one. While it helped out a little, to know someone understood his pain, he wished he could stand on top of the building and scream it at the top of his lungs.

I'm that girlfriend you all were almost positive that he had! I'm that girl who he returned home to every night, who convinced him how to use a coaster and taught make tea! I'm the girl he bought a ring for that you all teased him relentlessly about! I'm that girl, and I'm alone, and none of you even bothered to find out!

He needed to scream, but he couldn't. His throat was dry and itchy, and he couldn't even bring himself to make tea. Ryan couldn't make it like he did, couldn't make it taste delicious even though the other had no idea what the hell he was doing. Ryan couldn't make it help like he had. Ryan couldn't bring himself to let anyone know what he was to him.

Ryan sniffled lightly, disgusted with himself. Months later, and he couldn't bring himself to let everyone know they knew each other, that they were in love with each other and that they belonged together. Couldn't bring himself to let them know he hurt just as bad as they did, even worse than they did, about his death. Ryan was too scared to. Scared of the looks he'd get, and what they claimed was a desperate call for attention.

No, he couldn't let them know. And that hurt almost as much as his death.

Somewhere from his side of the bed, the phone rang. Ryan didn't even have to check it to know it was Alexx.

Enfin.