{Ficlet} Leave the Light On
Leave the Light On
by Clarity Scifiroots
Fandom: CSI New York
Charas: Danny (Stella, Mac)
Implied (???) deathfic
For
daily15 word #631 - eulogy
He listened to the speech but thought it dull. The words spilled from the orator's lips, lifeless. Hollow and empty like the closed casket. His lips twitched towards a bitter smirk.
--Empty because there had been nothing to find. Too much destruction to sort through quickly and even at the end of two weeks there was much to yet file and catalogue. But there was less than a three percent chance of hope. No bodies found alive down the river and the ones found close to the warehouse were dead or badly wounded and identified.
The idea of death couldn't sink in despite the days of anxiety and desperation. He had gone numb by the time the others deflated and admitted defeat. No, he thought. It couldn't be like this... and yet it was.
--Not yet. He couldn't let it go yet.
The casket was empty. Yet the speeches went on. Praise sung and accomplishments listed. The flag lay over the polished wood and on top of it a couple of roses and shiny medals. The medals had been accepted with quiet dignity but had not been the important thing to their owner.
He remembered standing in the office and letting his eyes roam over the framed pictures and shadow box of medals tucked to the side. There had always been a stack of open cases that had been pushed aside by other, lesser men. The boss wouldn't simply let those things slide through the cracks, wouldn't give up on the victims that had been loved by family in friends.
--How can we give up now? he wondered. It felt like a betrayal and it didn't sit well in his gut. We can't give up.
Stella gripped his hand suddenly in a fierce grip and he heard her breath hitch. It finally hit her. Shit, he hoped he wouldn't be next. He couldn't bear it.
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fin
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by Clarity Scifiroots
Fandom: CSI New York
Charas: Danny (Stella, Mac)
Implied (???) deathfic
For
daily15 word #631 - eulogy
He listened to the speech but thought it dull. The words spilled from the orator's lips, lifeless. Hollow and empty like the closed casket. His lips twitched towards a bitter smirk.
--Empty because there had been nothing to find. Too much destruction to sort through quickly and even at the end of two weeks there was much to yet file and catalogue. But there was less than a three percent chance of hope. No bodies found alive down the river and the ones found close to the warehouse were dead or badly wounded and identified.
The idea of death couldn't sink in despite the days of anxiety and desperation. He had gone numb by the time the others deflated and admitted defeat. No, he thought. It couldn't be like this... and yet it was.
--Not yet. He couldn't let it go yet.
The casket was empty. Yet the speeches went on. Praise sung and accomplishments listed. The flag lay over the polished wood and on top of it a couple of roses and shiny medals. The medals had been accepted with quiet dignity but had not been the important thing to their owner.
He remembered standing in the office and letting his eyes roam over the framed pictures and shadow box of medals tucked to the side. There had always been a stack of open cases that had been pushed aside by other, lesser men. The boss wouldn't simply let those things slide through the cracks, wouldn't give up on the victims that had been loved by family in friends.
--How can we give up now? he wondered. It felt like a betrayal and it didn't sit well in his gut. We can't give up.
Stella gripped his hand suddenly in a fierce grip and he heard her breath hitch. It finally hit her. Shit, he hoped he wouldn't be next. He couldn't bear it.
------
fin
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