Empty (2/?)
Sorry it took me so long to get this up, I completely forgot about it
Title: Empty
Title: Empty
Fandom: CSI:Miami/CSI:NY
Pairing: Speed/Danny
Warnings: Slash, angst, dark themes.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and Carmine Giovinazzo and Rory Cochrane are not hiding in my wardobe, honest! *glances sideways*
Summary: Ever since that day he felt empty inside. But now he's found someone who could fill the gaping hole left behind, and he is faced with a choice, respecting the memory of his lover, or starting a new life and learning to love again.
Tim never told me why he left, just that he needed to.
So he left, and I was heartbroken. I shut myself off emotionally from everyone, hid that part of myself deep down. I threw myself into my police work for five years; I made myself a new life, severing all ties to my background and my preferences. I found myself a family. Mac, an ex-marine who took shit from no-one. His grey-green-blue eyes seemed to look straight through me, but he always treated me with nothing but respect, despite my inklings that he hired me against advice from the higher-ups because of my dubious Tanglewood background. Stella was great, a real mother hen, but tough as old boots when she needed to be, and she took great pleasure in our Italian conversations when Lyle was within hearing. Plus, she made a mean cannoli. Lyle was the quintessential sixth generation New Yorker, and he hated my guts. Believe me, the feeling was mutual. He insisted on calling me Blondie, and generally made my life hell. Real childish stuff, like hiding my glasses, tripping me over when I was on the coffee run. He was five years and three months older than me, and he never let me forget it. Eventually, he mouthed off to the wrong criminal and got himself killed. No-one mourned his loss much, least of all me and Stella. His replacement, Aiden, was pretty much a female me. Smart, funny, snarky, good looking, I worked well with her and Mac knew it. The last member of our little forensic family was the resident corpse carver, Hawkes. After 9/11, he pretty much lived in the morgue, and was always good for a chat. He was the first black ME in the NYPD, and he paved the way for countless more.
Finding out he was gay was a bit of a shock, but after getting over it, I realised we had a mutual attraction. We had a few tentative dates, but that’s all it was, basic animal attraction. Don’t get me wrong, the sex was fantastic, but it wasn’t going to develop into something more. My heart just wasn’t in it. Shortly after, Hawkes began seeing some CSI from Vegas and they fell in love. I was the only one present at their commitment ceremony, along with another Vegas guy, some cute gangly kid barely old enough to be out of high school. We stayed in touch, and became close friends. When I heard he had been in an explosion, me and Hawkes were on a plane before you could say Deoxyribonucleic acid.
When I got back to the city, I found we had a new member to our team. Detective Don Flack Jnr had just been promoted to Homicide, and would be the go-between for Mac and the Chief of Police. Mac hated office politics and made it clear to anyone who enquired. Detective Flack enquired once, and emerged from Mac’s office half an hour later looking faintly shell-shocked. His baby blue eyes were glazed over, and I took pity on him. I took him for a couple of drinks at Sullivan’s. We got talking and realised we had a hell of a lot in common. He insisted on being called Flack, so I insisted on Messer. I gave up a career in baseball; he gave up one in basketball. We had both grown up with fathers trying to make us clones of themselves. I however, was as gay as they come, and he was straight as a ten dollar bill.
But I was nothing if not a good actor, so I played a tough no-nonsense Staten Island cop, as I had to everyone over the past eight years. Everyone but Tim.
And then the call came. Mac was called to a DOA one morning and, since I had nothing better to do, I tagged along; leaving Aiden with the bodega robbery we had pulled.
Entering the dank, dirty apartment, I noticed a flame haired man crouching beside the body. Mac didn’t look too happy; he’s very territorial about his crime scenes. The man stood up, he was much taller than Mac or me. He introduced himself as Lieutenant Horatio Caine, Miami Dade PD, Crime Lab. It’s an impressive set of credentials; the MD Crime Lab is the third in the country, after the FBI lab in Virginia and the lab in Vegas. He and Mac got to talking, and I was given the number of the Crime Lab down in Miami, and told to correspond with the CSI in charge down there. A Detective Speedle.
--
The name should have clicked, but I was slightly dense, and I didn’t twig on, even with the gravely voice I loved to hear when I was lying in our bed with him. Seeing Tim on the screen, five years after he left my life for what I thought would be for ever, looking wide awake for once, eyes fixed on me, unwavering, gave me a reality check, one that I wasn’t going to waste.
Which is why I was sitting on a plane, on the way to Miami, waiting to be reunited with my one and only love.
Title: Empty
Title: Empty
Fandom: CSI:Miami/CSI:NY
Pairing: Speed/Danny
Warnings: Slash, angst, dark themes.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and Carmine Giovinazzo and Rory Cochrane are not hiding in my wardobe, honest! *glances sideways*
Summary: Ever since that day he felt empty inside. But now he's found someone who could fill the gaping hole left behind, and he is faced with a choice, respecting the memory of his lover, or starting a new life and learning to love again.
Tim never told me why he left, just that he needed to.
So he left, and I was heartbroken. I shut myself off emotionally from everyone, hid that part of myself deep down. I threw myself into my police work for five years; I made myself a new life, severing all ties to my background and my preferences. I found myself a family. Mac, an ex-marine who took shit from no-one. His grey-green-blue eyes seemed to look straight through me, but he always treated me with nothing but respect, despite my inklings that he hired me against advice from the higher-ups because of my dubious Tanglewood background. Stella was great, a real mother hen, but tough as old boots when she needed to be, and she took great pleasure in our Italian conversations when Lyle was within hearing. Plus, she made a mean cannoli. Lyle was the quintessential sixth generation New Yorker, and he hated my guts. Believe me, the feeling was mutual. He insisted on calling me Blondie, and generally made my life hell. Real childish stuff, like hiding my glasses, tripping me over when I was on the coffee run. He was five years and three months older than me, and he never let me forget it. Eventually, he mouthed off to the wrong criminal and got himself killed. No-one mourned his loss much, least of all me and Stella. His replacement, Aiden, was pretty much a female me. Smart, funny, snarky, good looking, I worked well with her and Mac knew it. The last member of our little forensic family was the resident corpse carver, Hawkes. After 9/11, he pretty much lived in the morgue, and was always good for a chat. He was the first black ME in the NYPD, and he paved the way for countless more.
Finding out he was gay was a bit of a shock, but after getting over it, I realised we had a mutual attraction. We had a few tentative dates, but that’s all it was, basic animal attraction. Don’t get me wrong, the sex was fantastic, but it wasn’t going to develop into something more. My heart just wasn’t in it. Shortly after, Hawkes began seeing some CSI from Vegas and they fell in love. I was the only one present at their commitment ceremony, along with another Vegas guy, some cute gangly kid barely old enough to be out of high school. We stayed in touch, and became close friends. When I heard he had been in an explosion, me and Hawkes were on a plane before you could say Deoxyribonucleic acid.
When I got back to the city, I found we had a new member to our team. Detective Don Flack Jnr had just been promoted to Homicide, and would be the go-between for Mac and the Chief of Police. Mac hated office politics and made it clear to anyone who enquired. Detective Flack enquired once, and emerged from Mac’s office half an hour later looking faintly shell-shocked. His baby blue eyes were glazed over, and I took pity on him. I took him for a couple of drinks at Sullivan’s. We got talking and realised we had a hell of a lot in common. He insisted on being called Flack, so I insisted on Messer. I gave up a career in baseball; he gave up one in basketball. We had both grown up with fathers trying to make us clones of themselves. I however, was as gay as they come, and he was straight as a ten dollar bill.
But I was nothing if not a good actor, so I played a tough no-nonsense Staten Island cop, as I had to everyone over the past eight years. Everyone but Tim.
And then the call came. Mac was called to a DOA one morning and, since I had nothing better to do, I tagged along; leaving Aiden with the bodega robbery we had pulled.
Entering the dank, dirty apartment, I noticed a flame haired man crouching beside the body. Mac didn’t look too happy; he’s very territorial about his crime scenes. The man stood up, he was much taller than Mac or me. He introduced himself as Lieutenant Horatio Caine, Miami Dade PD, Crime Lab. It’s an impressive set of credentials; the MD Crime Lab is the third in the country, after the FBI lab in Virginia and the lab in Vegas. He and Mac got to talking, and I was given the number of the Crime Lab down in Miami, and told to correspond with the CSI in charge down there. A Detective Speedle.
--
The name should have clicked, but I was slightly dense, and I didn’t twig on, even with the gravely voice I loved to hear when I was lying in our bed with him. Seeing Tim on the screen, five years after he left my life for what I thought would be for ever, looking wide awake for once, eyes fixed on me, unwavering, gave me a reality check, one that I wasn’t going to waste.
Which is why I was sitting on a plane, on the way to Miami, waiting to be reunited with my one and only love.