II - Drowned in Sorrow
This is the Sequel to 'Things Unspoken' . Another DonxRyan one-shot.
Have fun!
Title: Drowned in Sorrow
Pairing: Ryan/Don
Rating: Rated NC-17 - just to be on the safe side
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI Miami or CSI New York.
Warning: Kinda AU - Violence, Angst, crappy ending
Summary: One-shot
"Nobody heard him, the dead man, but still he lay moaning. I was much further out than you thought, and not waving but drowning. I was much too far out all my life, and not waving but drowning." (Stevie Smith)
A/N: This fic is not beta-ed so if you find any errors, please let me know.
Drowned in Sorrow
It had been an evening like every other. An evening you better spent at home, hiding from the weather.
Winter has found its way into New York and outside the air was crisp and cold.
Ryan had been out in the open all day due to a case of murder in Central Park this morning. His bones were stiff and aching from the chill and he felt a slight rasp in his throat from the sharp wind.
That's why he'd come home and turned on the faucet by the bath-tub first thing. His body and mind were screaming for a hot soak, for warmth to return into his bones; a pity though Don wasn't here yet.
Leaving the light in the bathroom on and closing the door so the heat of the water would warm the room, Ryan scrambled towards the kitchen. He fished his cell-phone out of his coat-pocket on the way and scanned the display while he opened a transparent box on the counter. Needy for something sweet he helped himself to a cookie, a smile breaking out on his face when he remembered what Don and him had gotten into yesterday where the same cookies had been involved.
Speaking of Don - Ryan quickly punched in the numbers he knew as well as his own face, leaning back against the counter as he waited for a connection.
He heard it ring a few times, once, twice and then Don suddenly picked up, sounding rather breathless. “Hey Babe.”
“Hey”, Ryan said, nibbling on the cookie he held. “You busy?”
“No, not when it's you who's calling.”
Ryan's face split into a smile. Oh he loved the way Don's voice softened whenever he talked to him. “How long till you get off?” Ryan glanced at the pot of water he'd put on the stove to boil.
There was a short crackling sound as if Don had switched ears. “Half an hour. Why? You've got anything in mind?”
Ryan could hear Don's attention had sharpened all of a sudden, he could very well imagine the playful glint in his eyes right now. “Yes”, he all but purred into the speaker, knowing how this would elicit the mischievous smile he so loved on his lovers face.
“Sounds dirty. What is it?”
Feeling his heart thump at Don's answering purr, Ryan shifted slightly, feeling an excited blush creep on his cheeks. “Well, it will involve me, a hot tub and you, that enough explanation?”
“Not even close, but it will have to do, unless I want the whole department to know.”
Ryan laughed lightly. “I wouldn't mind if it meant they might let you off a little sooner.” He switched the stove off, took the oven cloth from where it hung on the wall and carefully lifted the hot pot from the fire, pouring the water into two large mugs he'd prepared.
“I know, babe. I would love that too.” There was a sigh on the other end. “I'll hurry, all right?”
“Well, don't. I'll be waiting for you in the tub when you come home, so.. drive carefully, yeah? You wouldn't want me to dissolve in the tub because you had an accident, right?”
Don laughed on the other end and Ryan could hear as the background suddenly became quiet. He smiled in amusement.
“Uh... okay, I'll hang up now. I guess my colleagues have realised by now I'm not talking to a suspect.”
“Okay. Take care, baby.”
“Yeah, you too.”
Ryan stared at the cell-phone for a little while longer, unable to chase away the smile he still had on his lips. He didn't know how he'd come to be loved by a man as beautiful and as kind as Don. He couldn't believe he really deserved to call Don his lover, his partner.. his heart.
Shaking his head softly, Ryan put a teabag into each mug, taking one of it with him.
He headed back to the bath-room, still immersed in his thoughts when he opened the door and encountered water.
Water.
Ryan's head snapped up to see why the the floor was flooded and when he caught sight of the water gushing out and over the edge of the tub, the mug fell from his hands and shattered into a million pieces. But he didn't feel the pain as the scalding water came in contact with his bare skin, nor did he feel the shards burying in the soles of his feet as he stepped closer and closer to the overflowing tub, leaving bloody footprints on his way.
For a moment Ryan was so completely and utterly in trance, the jerk he gave when he snapped out of it almost threw him off balance. He felt his heart hammering against his ribcage so hard he thought it might break through. Oh no. Oh no. Not again. Not another memory.
He shook his head in denial, knowing it wouldn't help him in the least but forced to do it anyway. Ryan panted helplessly, hands reaching up to fist in his hair tightly. This was a nightmare. A nightmare that didn't seem to end no matter how many years have passed.
He tried to tear his eyes away form the tub but he couldn't. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the sight, afraid to look away for even the slightest moment.
'Go away', his heart told him.
'Flee', said his mind.
'Slowly', he murmured to himself.
He watched the water as it flowed over the edge and down to the floor where it pooled around his feet. Ryan's eyes followed the path of water with sickened fear. He stared at his bare feet, the shards, the water, the blood.
There was another jolt and Ryan thought his heart had broken through for good now. And he turned, quickly, to flee the scene that was so familiar to him he wanted to be sick. His feet slipped on the wet tiles and Ryan's eyes widened for a fraction before he scrunched them shut as he fell backwards, into the tub, ripping off the shower curtain in the wake and hitting his head on the wall.
Pain exploded in his body. A pain that rivalled the one in his heart and mind when he realised what had happened.
He was dizzy, and nevertheless he could feel the water closing in on him, covering his face, causing his clothes to cling to him like demons from hell.
Ryan was breathless.
It seemed he was pulled under although it was just the natural force of the fall and it might have been seconds but for Ryan it lasted hours, years even. Years he'd tried to forget.
Panic hit him and he flailed his arms, only to find he could find nothing useful to grab on to. His right hand clutched the wall desperately, slipping, nails breaking as he tried to get a hold on something. Anything.
~ There was a shadow above him. He knew who it was although his sight was blurry and the face above him distorted by the water. Ryan flailed with his arms, trying to get a hold on anything, scratching the wall, breaking nails and leaving blood. He tried to dislodge the grip that held him under water but the hands around his neck were too strong. Far too strong. He dug his fingers into skin, wailed, only to realise that water filled his mouth and lung. He kicked with his bare feet but the man above him was relentless. As relentless as he'd always been.~
Ryan gasped in fear, hating the pictures that came loose in his head as he struggled with a foe who was no longer there. Again water entered his air-supply, just as it had done back then and Ryan wanted to cry.
Intending to reach out for the edge with his left hand, Ryan found he was tangled in the shower-curtain and he didn't know where the water ended and the curtain began. In fact, he didn't know where the surface was or in which direction. Frightened and desperate he opened his eyes wide, trying to see anything at all.
~..and he froze as he saw the mask of anger in the face of his lover. It made his heart stop to see the distorted face warped even more by the water's uneven surface. Why? Why did he do this to him? He'd said he loved him! He'd promised the accident a few days ago had been the last. Oh God, he'd promised.
So why was he down here on the hard surface of a tub he'd filled for enjoyment and was being killed instead? He didn't understand! He hadn't done anything! He'd been filling the tub and to his surprise his lover had come home. He'd called a greeting but there was only silence. Then he'd heard him come up behind him and he'd been about to turn, but something... happened.
The next thing he knew was that he was being pushed under water. But why? What had he done? He couldn't remember! He couldn't remember anything that could have provoked this. He couldn't remember anything at all. ~
What had happened? How did it come he found himself in a bath-tub fighting for breath when all he'd wanted was to snuggle against his lover? What the hell had happened? How had it happened to bring forth those memories? And how did his ex-lover succeed in making his life a nightmare although he'd killed him years and years ago.
~ Ryan succeeded in wrenching one of the hands away and he resurfaced with a mighty splash. His lungs rasped and the breath he took hurt more than any other in his life. He fastened his eyes on his lover, pleading, but before he could start begging for mercy he was pushed under again. No. No! NO!
He wanted to scream, and maybe he did, but all that came out were bubbles. Bubbles filled with air he so much needed, he craved for so desperately. He wanted to cry. But that wouldn't save him. Nothing would save him.~
Ryan flailed, in his panic not realising he hurt himself more than doing any good. When he opened his eyes, the water was tinged with red, a sight he'd hoped he would never see again.
He opened his mouth to scream but swallowed blood and water.
He wanted to be sick.
~ Again Ryan tried to get his fingers under the hands that were holding him down but this time the desired effect didn't come. It seemed the grip around his neck was even tighter than before. Like an iron-collar. He attacked the hands, digging, pulling, wrenching, twisting. It didn't help. In fact, a few moments later his fingers had no strength at all. They were broken, he realised. He'd broken his fingers. They looked odd in ways he didn't even want to begin to understand.
What should he do? What should he do?! His legs were immobile by the weight his ex-lover put on them, his hands were useless without the fingers to apply strength, his mind.. he could feel himself slip away.
Consciousness waning, he saw dark edges framing his vision like it would frame his picture on the obituary.
He stared up. Stared up to hope and see the slightest bit of compassion or comprehension in his lovers face. Didn't he know that he was killing him? Didn't he realise that that was what was happening?
He searched for a trace of something, anything, but there was only rage.
Rage.
Would this be the last thing he would see?
His lover's face warped into a mask of anger?
Would anger be the only thing he could take with him when he died?
Would anger be the only emotion he could remember when he thought about being loved?~
Frantically Ryan tried to break free from his confinement that consisted of water and plastic. Suddenly there was air and he sucked it in hungrily, only to realise it had been just a larger bubble of air that had lodged itself in-between the folds of the curtain and the water around him.
Oh no. No. No. No. No. No.
He would die here.
Caught forever in the tangles of water and his own memories.
He didn't want that! He didn't want to die with only the horror of his ex-lover clouding his mind. He wanted to die seeing Donnie. He didn't want to die at all.
And suddenly there were hands around him, pulling him up and out of the water. His fingers dug into his saviours shoulders, trembling, frightened, as if to reassure himself that the person was really there and that his fingers were indeed not broken.
He felt his body being untangled from the rest of the shower-curtain but he couldn't see a thing.
All he could do, was to take in big gulps of air between all the coughing and choking that wrenched his body. He felt save and.. desperate. “Don..? Donnie?”
“Shhh.. yes, I'm here. Hush, my love.” Don's voice whispered into his ear.
He was here.
He was really here.
Don had come to save him.
Donnie was here.
His fingers tightened even more and Don complied with Ryan's unspoken request to be held.
Don's hand carded through his hair, caressed his neck, cupped the back of Ryan's head carefully as he held him tight. Ryan coughed and shivered, buried his face in Don's shoulder. He was there. Don was there. He couldn't believe it. It was like a dream.
He inhaled his lover's scent, felt the soothing presence of Don calm his nerves. “Don”, he whimpered. “Don... I'd thought you wouldn't come in time.”
“I know. I had a bad feeling and I wanted to see you.” Don sighed. “It's good I've come when I did.”
“Yes”, was the feeble reply and Ryan tightened his hold once more. “You.. you aren't angry.. are you?”
“No, babe. No. I could never be angry with you.”
A/N: I don't know how deep your bath-tubs are, but mine is not very shallow. So I've backed up the theory simply by trying. You should have seen my mother when she spotted what I was doing. That frown was hilarious.
Have fun!
Title: Drowned in Sorrow
Pairing: Ryan/Don
Rating: Rated NC-17 - just to be on the safe side
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI Miami or CSI New York.
Warning: Kinda AU - Violence, Angst, crappy ending
Summary: One-shot
"Nobody heard him, the dead man, but still he lay moaning. I was much further out than you thought, and not waving but drowning. I was much too far out all my life, and not waving but drowning." (Stevie Smith)
A/N: This fic is not beta-ed so if you find any errors, please let me know.
Drowned in Sorrow
It had been an evening like every other. An evening you better spent at home, hiding from the weather.
Winter has found its way into New York and outside the air was crisp and cold.
Ryan had been out in the open all day due to a case of murder in Central Park this morning. His bones were stiff and aching from the chill and he felt a slight rasp in his throat from the sharp wind.
That's why he'd come home and turned on the faucet by the bath-tub first thing. His body and mind were screaming for a hot soak, for warmth to return into his bones; a pity though Don wasn't here yet.
Leaving the light in the bathroom on and closing the door so the heat of the water would warm the room, Ryan scrambled towards the kitchen. He fished his cell-phone out of his coat-pocket on the way and scanned the display while he opened a transparent box on the counter. Needy for something sweet he helped himself to a cookie, a smile breaking out on his face when he remembered what Don and him had gotten into yesterday where the same cookies had been involved.
Speaking of Don - Ryan quickly punched in the numbers he knew as well as his own face, leaning back against the counter as he waited for a connection.
He heard it ring a few times, once, twice and then Don suddenly picked up, sounding rather breathless. “Hey Babe.”
“Hey”, Ryan said, nibbling on the cookie he held. “You busy?”
“No, not when it's you who's calling.”
Ryan's face split into a smile. Oh he loved the way Don's voice softened whenever he talked to him. “How long till you get off?” Ryan glanced at the pot of water he'd put on the stove to boil.
There was a short crackling sound as if Don had switched ears. “Half an hour. Why? You've got anything in mind?”
Ryan could hear Don's attention had sharpened all of a sudden, he could very well imagine the playful glint in his eyes right now. “Yes”, he all but purred into the speaker, knowing how this would elicit the mischievous smile he so loved on his lovers face.
“Sounds dirty. What is it?”
Feeling his heart thump at Don's answering purr, Ryan shifted slightly, feeling an excited blush creep on his cheeks. “Well, it will involve me, a hot tub and you, that enough explanation?”
“Not even close, but it will have to do, unless I want the whole department to know.”
Ryan laughed lightly. “I wouldn't mind if it meant they might let you off a little sooner.” He switched the stove off, took the oven cloth from where it hung on the wall and carefully lifted the hot pot from the fire, pouring the water into two large mugs he'd prepared.
“I know, babe. I would love that too.” There was a sigh on the other end. “I'll hurry, all right?”
“Well, don't. I'll be waiting for you in the tub when you come home, so.. drive carefully, yeah? You wouldn't want me to dissolve in the tub because you had an accident, right?”
Don laughed on the other end and Ryan could hear as the background suddenly became quiet. He smiled in amusement.
“Uh... okay, I'll hang up now. I guess my colleagues have realised by now I'm not talking to a suspect.”
“Okay. Take care, baby.”
“Yeah, you too.”
Ryan stared at the cell-phone for a little while longer, unable to chase away the smile he still had on his lips. He didn't know how he'd come to be loved by a man as beautiful and as kind as Don. He couldn't believe he really deserved to call Don his lover, his partner.. his heart.
Shaking his head softly, Ryan put a teabag into each mug, taking one of it with him.
He headed back to the bath-room, still immersed in his thoughts when he opened the door and encountered water.
Water.
Ryan's head snapped up to see why the the floor was flooded and when he caught sight of the water gushing out and over the edge of the tub, the mug fell from his hands and shattered into a million pieces. But he didn't feel the pain as the scalding water came in contact with his bare skin, nor did he feel the shards burying in the soles of his feet as he stepped closer and closer to the overflowing tub, leaving bloody footprints on his way.
For a moment Ryan was so completely and utterly in trance, the jerk he gave when he snapped out of it almost threw him off balance. He felt his heart hammering against his ribcage so hard he thought it might break through. Oh no. Oh no. Not again. Not another memory.
He shook his head in denial, knowing it wouldn't help him in the least but forced to do it anyway. Ryan panted helplessly, hands reaching up to fist in his hair tightly. This was a nightmare. A nightmare that didn't seem to end no matter how many years have passed.
He tried to tear his eyes away form the tub but he couldn't. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the sight, afraid to look away for even the slightest moment.
'Go away', his heart told him.
'Flee', said his mind.
'Slowly', he murmured to himself.
He watched the water as it flowed over the edge and down to the floor where it pooled around his feet. Ryan's eyes followed the path of water with sickened fear. He stared at his bare feet, the shards, the water, the blood.
There was another jolt and Ryan thought his heart had broken through for good now. And he turned, quickly, to flee the scene that was so familiar to him he wanted to be sick. His feet slipped on the wet tiles and Ryan's eyes widened for a fraction before he scrunched them shut as he fell backwards, into the tub, ripping off the shower curtain in the wake and hitting his head on the wall.
Pain exploded in his body. A pain that rivalled the one in his heart and mind when he realised what had happened.
He was dizzy, and nevertheless he could feel the water closing in on him, covering his face, causing his clothes to cling to him like demons from hell.
Ryan was breathless.
It seemed he was pulled under although it was just the natural force of the fall and it might have been seconds but for Ryan it lasted hours, years even. Years he'd tried to forget.
Panic hit him and he flailed his arms, only to find he could find nothing useful to grab on to. His right hand clutched the wall desperately, slipping, nails breaking as he tried to get a hold on something. Anything.
~ There was a shadow above him. He knew who it was although his sight was blurry and the face above him distorted by the water. Ryan flailed with his arms, trying to get a hold on anything, scratching the wall, breaking nails and leaving blood. He tried to dislodge the grip that held him under water but the hands around his neck were too strong. Far too strong. He dug his fingers into skin, wailed, only to realise that water filled his mouth and lung. He kicked with his bare feet but the man above him was relentless. As relentless as he'd always been.~
Ryan gasped in fear, hating the pictures that came loose in his head as he struggled with a foe who was no longer there. Again water entered his air-supply, just as it had done back then and Ryan wanted to cry.
Intending to reach out for the edge with his left hand, Ryan found he was tangled in the shower-curtain and he didn't know where the water ended and the curtain began. In fact, he didn't know where the surface was or in which direction. Frightened and desperate he opened his eyes wide, trying to see anything at all.
~..and he froze as he saw the mask of anger in the face of his lover. It made his heart stop to see the distorted face warped even more by the water's uneven surface. Why? Why did he do this to him? He'd said he loved him! He'd promised the accident a few days ago had been the last. Oh God, he'd promised.
So why was he down here on the hard surface of a tub he'd filled for enjoyment and was being killed instead? He didn't understand! He hadn't done anything! He'd been filling the tub and to his surprise his lover had come home. He'd called a greeting but there was only silence. Then he'd heard him come up behind him and he'd been about to turn, but something... happened.
The next thing he knew was that he was being pushed under water. But why? What had he done? He couldn't remember! He couldn't remember anything that could have provoked this. He couldn't remember anything at all. ~
What had happened? How did it come he found himself in a bath-tub fighting for breath when all he'd wanted was to snuggle against his lover? What the hell had happened? How had it happened to bring forth those memories? And how did his ex-lover succeed in making his life a nightmare although he'd killed him years and years ago.
~ Ryan succeeded in wrenching one of the hands away and he resurfaced with a mighty splash. His lungs rasped and the breath he took hurt more than any other in his life. He fastened his eyes on his lover, pleading, but before he could start begging for mercy he was pushed under again. No. No! NO!
He wanted to scream, and maybe he did, but all that came out were bubbles. Bubbles filled with air he so much needed, he craved for so desperately. He wanted to cry. But that wouldn't save him. Nothing would save him.~
Ryan flailed, in his panic not realising he hurt himself more than doing any good. When he opened his eyes, the water was tinged with red, a sight he'd hoped he would never see again.
He opened his mouth to scream but swallowed blood and water.
He wanted to be sick.
~ Again Ryan tried to get his fingers under the hands that were holding him down but this time the desired effect didn't come. It seemed the grip around his neck was even tighter than before. Like an iron-collar. He attacked the hands, digging, pulling, wrenching, twisting. It didn't help. In fact, a few moments later his fingers had no strength at all. They were broken, he realised. He'd broken his fingers. They looked odd in ways he didn't even want to begin to understand.
What should he do? What should he do?! His legs were immobile by the weight his ex-lover put on them, his hands were useless without the fingers to apply strength, his mind.. he could feel himself slip away.
Consciousness waning, he saw dark edges framing his vision like it would frame his picture on the obituary.
He stared up. Stared up to hope and see the slightest bit of compassion or comprehension in his lovers face. Didn't he know that he was killing him? Didn't he realise that that was what was happening?
He searched for a trace of something, anything, but there was only rage.
Rage.
Would this be the last thing he would see?
His lover's face warped into a mask of anger?
Would anger be the only thing he could take with him when he died?
Would anger be the only emotion he could remember when he thought about being loved?~
Frantically Ryan tried to break free from his confinement that consisted of water and plastic. Suddenly there was air and he sucked it in hungrily, only to realise it had been just a larger bubble of air that had lodged itself in-between the folds of the curtain and the water around him.
Oh no. No. No. No. No. No.
He would die here.
Caught forever in the tangles of water and his own memories.
He didn't want that! He didn't want to die with only the horror of his ex-lover clouding his mind. He wanted to die seeing Donnie. He didn't want to die at all.
And suddenly there were hands around him, pulling him up and out of the water. His fingers dug into his saviours shoulders, trembling, frightened, as if to reassure himself that the person was really there and that his fingers were indeed not broken.
He felt his body being untangled from the rest of the shower-curtain but he couldn't see a thing.
All he could do, was to take in big gulps of air between all the coughing and choking that wrenched his body. He felt save and.. desperate. “Don..? Donnie?”
“Shhh.. yes, I'm here. Hush, my love.” Don's voice whispered into his ear.
He was here.
He was really here.
Don had come to save him.
Donnie was here.
His fingers tightened even more and Don complied with Ryan's unspoken request to be held.
Don's hand carded through his hair, caressed his neck, cupped the back of Ryan's head carefully as he held him tight. Ryan coughed and shivered, buried his face in Don's shoulder. He was there. Don was there. He couldn't believe it. It was like a dream.
He inhaled his lover's scent, felt the soothing presence of Don calm his nerves. “Don”, he whimpered. “Don... I'd thought you wouldn't come in time.”
“I know. I had a bad feeling and I wanted to see you.” Don sighed. “It's good I've come when I did.”
“Yes”, was the feeble reply and Ryan tightened his hold once more. “You.. you aren't angry.. are you?”
“No, babe. No. I could never be angry with you.”
A/N: I don't know how deep your bath-tubs are, but mine is not very shallow. So I've backed up the theory simply by trying. You should have seen my mother when she spotted what I was doing. That frown was hilarious.