Tell-Tale Droplet
Title: Tell-Tale Droplet
Author: fly_casual77
Characters: Flack & Stella
Rating: FRC
Warnings: Spoilers for “All Access” and “Charge of This Post”.
Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable belongs to me or brings me any profit. This includes the show “CSI:NY” and its characters.
Author's Notes: I wrote my heart out here, folks. And cried when I reread it. It might be soppy, it might be stupid. I don’t know. Whatever blows your hair back. Read and enjoy.
Everybody loves a Hero.
Tell-Tale Droplet
A single tear escaped from the fortress she had built around herself. It ran over the side of her face, slipping defiantly across her cheek and leaving a trail. The only word that ran though her was trail. A trail of evidence, a trail in the woods, a trail through the snow, a trail to the killer. Her job was all about trails; finding that trail and following it wherever it may lead.
The compact mirror, stuck in the first drawer in a crowded desk, seemed to call out to her. Destroy the evidence. Her hands shook and she thought of Aiden. Wrong. Aiden didn't destroy evidence. She planted it. There's nothing wrong in covering up a tear, is there?
She heard shoes out in the hallway, Hero’s shoes. The tear sojourned and dropped off, off the edge of the trail. Gone for good. Lost. Forever. Just like the trail her finger quickly wiped away.
He came closer, a case file in his hand, a thick one. Thick case files are either good or bad. It could mean one victim, with lots of evidence. More often it meant many victims, with little evidence. From the look on his face, it was the latter. He looked like he was trying to remember a joke, riddle, a story, anything to get his mind off the offensive object in his hand.
She glanced at herself once more in the compact. Her expression mirrored his. She jumped from the loud snap the compact made when slammed shut, and it brought a brief smile to his face as he came through the door. She smiled because he smiled, and for a few seconds many victims, little evidence was forgotten.
A few seconds can be forever when your life is on the line. It was random, and it was unwanted; the smile left rudely and was replaced with a few seconds of memory. Her left elbow banged sharply against the tile wall of her former bathroom. It throbbed and revolted, throwing her hand against the door. The small bang, caused by collision of hand and door, lasted forever. She heard it as she ran through her haven, as she ended a fellow human being's life, as she lay on the floor in exhaustion, and it went on. It continued when she saw Mac, and it ended when she saw her Hero.
Her memory ended with the touch of her Hero, lacing his fingers through hers and whispering something in her ear. She wanted to yell out, don't touch them, they're bloody. He would have touched them anyway, even if they were bloody, even though they were almost clean with only the hint of scars on the tips.
They changed places now, and Hero was in trouble. He fought back just as hard as she had, and his savior came in the form of a shoelace with MacGyver, instead of a razor with Determination. She was confused, angry, resentful. Just as Heroine realized he had been when she had been a victim. He woke up to his Heroine's face, and it made her smile when the first thing he said was, you look like crap sweetheart, get some rest.
His voice came through the lonely hospital room scene, and it was saying, don't cry sweetheart. You gotta stop crying.
I'm not crying, her voice responded. Honest I'm not.
You were, sweetheart.
No I wasn't. Hero gently turned her head so she could see the front of her shirt. A lone magenta circle came into her vision in an island of pink. Another one joined it, and they both watched in fascination as the salt water turned the fabric a darker shade. Another one, then another one, and then they realized that Hero was crying too.
His Heroine's chin rested on his shoulder, and they cried the memories out.