Left Behind
Title: Left Behind
Author: Ragna (goddess_loki)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from the CSI franchise; they are owned by Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Zuicker, et. al. do. Samantha belongs to me. Drew and William belong to thiscanbegin
Authors Notes: This all started because thiscanbegin was telling me about two new OCs she was creating. And then it snowballed into this.
---
She had dropped the phone. She'd been in the middle of filling out paperwork when she got the call from the Miami-Dade coroner. At first she'd been shocked about it, and then she'd been angry that it had been the coroner, even though she tried to break it to her as gently as she could. Afterwards she had sat staring at her computer, trying not to sob in front of everyone she knew.
Her team knew something was wrong, though. Jason had seen her drop the phone and he knew that she was never the type to do that. He touched her shoulder gently and it all came spilling out: the news, the tears, the pain. She felt ripped apart and she hurt. He cradled her in his arms until the crying stopped, neither of them caring that everyone was watching them.
Then she took indefinite leave. He had been the only close family she had left. She didn't know how she was going to deal with it, and she didn't want to be rushed as she did.
---
"Take all the time you need, honey."
Samantha nodded in Alexx's direction and took a deep breath as she pulled his body out of the refrigerator. She knew what a suicide victim who killed himself with a gunshot to the head looked like; too many of her cases ended with the perp taking his life. But seeing her brother like that...
The coroner had done a good job of hiding it. His face...she could still look at his face. She couldn't bring herself to touch him, preferring that the hug she gave him before she went back to Quantico be the last time that she touched him. It didn't stop her from crying, though. Tears fell silently down her cheeks and she dashed them away quickly, refusing to let any more fall. She just hugged herself and looked.
He looked almost at peace. Almost.
---
"No, honestly, I can make the decisions myself, Uncle William."
She sat down on John's bed and hugged his pillow close to her chest. She felt more comfortable in his room than her old one; that's where she planned on sleeping, anyway. Right now, though, she needed to remind her family that she had been the one closest to him. He had planned their parents funeral...now she was planning his. Grim thought, but it kept her focused.
She wanted it small. She hadn't heard from anyone with the MDPD and she didn't think it was fair to let him languish in the morgue. Her brother didn't deserve that. Didn't deserve the treatment he was getting from the people he'd worked with, either, but killing himself at the crime labs had probably not endeared him to many people, even in death.
"I know you can, but wouldn't you like help?" her uncle asked.
"No. I just want you and the family here, that's all."
There was a long pause. "We'll be there. Not sure about Angel, but Drew I can guarantee."
"Just...bring whoever you can."
"Are you sure you're going to be okay by yourself?"
No, I'm not going to be okay ever again. "I'll be fine."
---
It was a very private affair. John had never been the most religious person in the world but she had managed to track down the preacher at the church he attended. A few of John's friends had come out of the woodwork when Samantha had asked the coroner how she should let people know about the funeral. Other than three out of the four members of the rest of her family, there wasn't anyone else. Maybe twelve people standing there total.
She'd hoped for something maybe a little bigger, but she was glad for what she got.
As the preacher continued saying the Lord's prayer, Samantha happened to glance away from him and past the other people mourning. There was a man standing there, sunglasses on his face and red hair shining like a beacon. She knew who that man was. The fact that he was there made her feel so many things. She was relieved that not everyone from the labs hated her brother, angry that he hadn't come any closer, sad that only he had shown up...
Her attention got pulled back to the preacher and when she was finally able to look again, Horatio Caine was nowhere to be seen.
---
"You sure you should be drinking?"
Samantha didn't even turn around. She kept reaching for the bottle of alcohol John usually kept stashed for the two of them when she'd come visit. She didn't even care what it was, she just wanted to get shitfaced so she could get a decent night's sleep. Not even her cousin was going to stop her from doing that.
He took a step towards her. "Sam..."
"Drew, I don't want to hear it." Her fingers wrapped around the handle and she pulled it down. Jack Daniels, her favorite. She got back up on her tiptoes and her hand went searching for the shot glasses that were usually stashed next to the bottle.
He came over to her and looked in the cupboard, pulling out one glass. "Here."
"You don't want any?"
"Someone's got to make sure you're okay."
She nodded and went to the kitchen counter, setting the shot glass down and pouring some amber liquid into it. She began to raise the filled glass to toast somebody or something, but at the last minute she slammed the shot back. She did it all over again before she finally spoke.
"What would you do if Angel killed herself?"
He'd been expecting something like that. "It's a little different. We're twins."
"How is it that different? You two have a special bond. I had one with John. How are they different?" She filled up her glass again but didn't drink it. "What would you do, Drew?"
"I'd probably fall to pieces for a while," he said quietly. "You know you've got us left, right?"
"Not really. Drew, we weren't ever really all that close, you know? You've got your life in Louisiana and Angel's got her life in Seattle. She couldn't even make it for the funeral." Drew began to protest and she raised her hand to cut him off. "I know she's busy with something she just can't leave. I'm not blaming her."
Drew stood there, not at all sure what to do. "We don't have to be so..."
"Yeah, I know." She picked up the shot. "If you're going to stand there have a shot. I promise, I won't make you drink a whole lot. I just don't want to feel alone."
He came over and took it from her, downing it quickly. "You're not alone."
"Sure feels like I am."
"But you're not," he said quietly, taking the bottle from her and setting himself up another shot. "Yeah, we may not be close but we are family."
"And look what's happened to my part of the family," she whispered, tears beginning to cascade down her face. She felt his hand rub her back as she cried and then she moved so he could hold her, murmuring reassurances and letting her cry on his shoulder.
It felt good to get it out.
---
She woke up in John's bed the next morning, fully clothed but tucked in. She'd grabbed a pillow and held it close, and the first thing she remembered smelling was him, the smells she'd always associated with him.
She got up and padded out to the living room to see Drew sleeping on the couch. She'd forgotten how much she drank but she did remember just talking to her cousin until she fell asleep. It had been nice, nice to know someone cared enough about her to make sure she didn't hurt herself or...well, or die.
She looked around the home and sighed, the melancholy feeling sweeping over her. There was so much to do: things to go through, things to pack, legal matters regarding the house and his property...so much paperwork and hassles and headaches. She'd managed to make it through the funeral in one piece, and for that she was glad.
Now she just had to make it through the rest of her life without her brother.
Author: Ragna (goddess_loki)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from the CSI franchise; they are owned by Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Zuicker, et. al. do. Samantha belongs to me. Drew and William belong to thiscanbegin
Authors Notes: This all started because thiscanbegin was telling me about two new OCs she was creating. And then it snowballed into this.
---
She had dropped the phone. She'd been in the middle of filling out paperwork when she got the call from the Miami-Dade coroner. At first she'd been shocked about it, and then she'd been angry that it had been the coroner, even though she tried to break it to her as gently as she could. Afterwards she had sat staring at her computer, trying not to sob in front of everyone she knew.
Her team knew something was wrong, though. Jason had seen her drop the phone and he knew that she was never the type to do that. He touched her shoulder gently and it all came spilling out: the news, the tears, the pain. She felt ripped apart and she hurt. He cradled her in his arms until the crying stopped, neither of them caring that everyone was watching them.
Then she took indefinite leave. He had been the only close family she had left. She didn't know how she was going to deal with it, and she didn't want to be rushed as she did.
---
"Take all the time you need, honey."
Samantha nodded in Alexx's direction and took a deep breath as she pulled his body out of the refrigerator. She knew what a suicide victim who killed himself with a gunshot to the head looked like; too many of her cases ended with the perp taking his life. But seeing her brother like that...
The coroner had done a good job of hiding it. His face...she could still look at his face. She couldn't bring herself to touch him, preferring that the hug she gave him before she went back to Quantico be the last time that she touched him. It didn't stop her from crying, though. Tears fell silently down her cheeks and she dashed them away quickly, refusing to let any more fall. She just hugged herself and looked.
He looked almost at peace. Almost.
---
"No, honestly, I can make the decisions myself, Uncle William."
She sat down on John's bed and hugged his pillow close to her chest. She felt more comfortable in his room than her old one; that's where she planned on sleeping, anyway. Right now, though, she needed to remind her family that she had been the one closest to him. He had planned their parents funeral...now she was planning his. Grim thought, but it kept her focused.
She wanted it small. She hadn't heard from anyone with the MDPD and she didn't think it was fair to let him languish in the morgue. Her brother didn't deserve that. Didn't deserve the treatment he was getting from the people he'd worked with, either, but killing himself at the crime labs had probably not endeared him to many people, even in death.
"I know you can, but wouldn't you like help?" her uncle asked.
"No. I just want you and the family here, that's all."
There was a long pause. "We'll be there. Not sure about Angel, but Drew I can guarantee."
"Just...bring whoever you can."
"Are you sure you're going to be okay by yourself?"
No, I'm not going to be okay ever again. "I'll be fine."
---
It was a very private affair. John had never been the most religious person in the world but she had managed to track down the preacher at the church he attended. A few of John's friends had come out of the woodwork when Samantha had asked the coroner how she should let people know about the funeral. Other than three out of the four members of the rest of her family, there wasn't anyone else. Maybe twelve people standing there total.
She'd hoped for something maybe a little bigger, but she was glad for what she got.
As the preacher continued saying the Lord's prayer, Samantha happened to glance away from him and past the other people mourning. There was a man standing there, sunglasses on his face and red hair shining like a beacon. She knew who that man was. The fact that he was there made her feel so many things. She was relieved that not everyone from the labs hated her brother, angry that he hadn't come any closer, sad that only he had shown up...
Her attention got pulled back to the preacher and when she was finally able to look again, Horatio Caine was nowhere to be seen.
---
"You sure you should be drinking?"
Samantha didn't even turn around. She kept reaching for the bottle of alcohol John usually kept stashed for the two of them when she'd come visit. She didn't even care what it was, she just wanted to get shitfaced so she could get a decent night's sleep. Not even her cousin was going to stop her from doing that.
He took a step towards her. "Sam..."
"Drew, I don't want to hear it." Her fingers wrapped around the handle and she pulled it down. Jack Daniels, her favorite. She got back up on her tiptoes and her hand went searching for the shot glasses that were usually stashed next to the bottle.
He came over to her and looked in the cupboard, pulling out one glass. "Here."
"You don't want any?"
"Someone's got to make sure you're okay."
She nodded and went to the kitchen counter, setting the shot glass down and pouring some amber liquid into it. She began to raise the filled glass to toast somebody or something, but at the last minute she slammed the shot back. She did it all over again before she finally spoke.
"What would you do if Angel killed herself?"
He'd been expecting something like that. "It's a little different. We're twins."
"How is it that different? You two have a special bond. I had one with John. How are they different?" She filled up her glass again but didn't drink it. "What would you do, Drew?"
"I'd probably fall to pieces for a while," he said quietly. "You know you've got us left, right?"
"Not really. Drew, we weren't ever really all that close, you know? You've got your life in Louisiana and Angel's got her life in Seattle. She couldn't even make it for the funeral." Drew began to protest and she raised her hand to cut him off. "I know she's busy with something she just can't leave. I'm not blaming her."
Drew stood there, not at all sure what to do. "We don't have to be so..."
"Yeah, I know." She picked up the shot. "If you're going to stand there have a shot. I promise, I won't make you drink a whole lot. I just don't want to feel alone."
He came over and took it from her, downing it quickly. "You're not alone."
"Sure feels like I am."
"But you're not," he said quietly, taking the bottle from her and setting himself up another shot. "Yeah, we may not be close but we are family."
"And look what's happened to my part of the family," she whispered, tears beginning to cascade down her face. She felt his hand rub her back as she cried and then she moved so he could hold her, murmuring reassurances and letting her cry on his shoulder.
It felt good to get it out.
---
She woke up in John's bed the next morning, fully clothed but tucked in. She'd grabbed a pillow and held it close, and the first thing she remembered smelling was him, the smells she'd always associated with him.
She got up and padded out to the living room to see Drew sleeping on the couch. She'd forgotten how much she drank but she did remember just talking to her cousin until she fell asleep. It had been nice, nice to know someone cared enough about her to make sure she didn't hurt herself or...well, or die.
She looked around the home and sighed, the melancholy feeling sweeping over her. There was so much to do: things to go through, things to pack, legal matters regarding the house and his property...so much paperwork and hassles and headaches. She'd managed to make it through the funeral in one piece, and for that she was glad.
Now she just had to make it through the rest of her life without her brother.