Title: When You Come Back To Me Again
Author: Tayla
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Pairing: Horatio/Speed
Rating: FRT
Category: Angst, Drama, Pre-slash
Archive: Yes to WWOMB/Peja. All others please ask
Feedback: Yes, please. All constructive criticism will be graciously accepted
Authors Web Site: http://www.geocities.com/tayla36/index.html
Disclaimers: CSI and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker and CBS broadcasting company. The author makes no profit and no infringement is intended.
Authors Notes: "Lost Son" fix-it. Blame Bev. I've read all her wonderful "Speed is not dead" fics, and wished I could come up with something. So today, I was watching SciFi channel, and they played the movie "Frequency" and this is what happened.
Also, thanks to Bev for the beta read.
Spoilers: Lost Son
Summary: A voice from the past changes Horatio's future.
Warnings: Temporary character death

Speed was dead.

It had been a rough three days. A boat, a bridge and a kidnapped boy. Then add some fake jewelry and a dirty gun and Speed was dead

He sat on his back patio still in his black suit and watched the setting sun,. Too many funerals in the past few years. His brother and his best friend, and now Speed was dead.

He hadn't even figured out what Speed was to him. Co-worker, friend, and in the middle of the night, his wet dream, fantasy lover.

But none of that mattered now, because Speed was dead.

He sat for hours watching the sun, even after it had set and there were odd patches of red and blue and green flashing in the sky. If he had been thinking straight, or thinking at all, he would have thought it odd. The aurora borealis didn't usually appear so far south.

But he wasn't thinking, was trying his best not to think, because Speed was dead.

His cell phone rang, breaking him out of his trance, and he almost didn't answer it, but it might be the job, and duty was all he had left now.

"Horatio."

::H, its Speed.::

He was shocked into silence for a moment, and then growled into the phone. "Is this some kind of joke?"

::No, boss. You paged me, remember. You must have caught a bad case if you need to call me back from my vacation.::

And Horatio recognized the exact words that Speed had spoken to him during their phone call three days ago. The call that he since wished he had not made. He wished that he and the rest of the team had handled the case and left Speed safely on vacation.

"Where are you?" He asked his dead friend.

::Out riding my bike. I was heading down to the Keys. But I can be back in a couple hours. I just have to go home and change first.::

Again the same words he had spoken that morning.

Horatio had a flash of memory. An article full of half baked theory and science fiction supposition about sun spots and radio waves and holes in time and the aurora borealis.

And a half remembered movie he had seen one night when he couldn't sleep. About a cop and his fireman father and a ham radio. And the aurora borealis.

His eyes were drawn to the light show in the night sky. It was impossible. Wasn't it? Speed couldn't be talking to him from three days in the past. It was crazy.

But as long as he was insane anyway, he might as well try. He had nothing else to lose.

"All right, and Speed, would you do something for me? Before you come to the scene, clean your weapon. Can you do that for me?"

::H…::

"Promise me, Speed. Before you come in, clean your gun."

::Okay H. I promise.::

"Good. See you in a few hours." And he hoped that were true.

As he flipped the phone shut, the world seemed to shift. Two conflicting time lines collided in his head. He had memories of walking into the jewelry store. The security guard pulling his gun. Speeds gun misfiring. The security guard shooting Speed in the chest even as Horatio pulled his own weapon to return fire. Watching helplessly as Speeds life blood spilled out on the floor. The young man lying cold and lifeless on the autopsy table. And the funeral.

But he also had memories of walking into the jewelry store the security guard pulling his gun, and Speed firing first, wounding the guard as Horatio pulled his own weapon to cover the second security guard. Speeds hands shaking as he holstered his weapon. Speed thanking H for getting on his case about cleaning his gun. And a clear memory of leaving work that evening, saying good night to the younger man and watching him roar away on his motorcycle.

He was sitting on his patio, but he wasn't in a funeral suit. He was in the old gray sweats and bomb squad t shirt that he usually slept in.

Was he crazy? Was he dreaming? Which was the dream and which was reality? Was Speed dead?

He picked up the cell phone from the table in front of him and dialed. The phone rang a few times, and then a sleepy voice answered.

::Speedle.::

Horatio tried to speak but found that he couldn't draw a proper breath.

::H? Is that you?::

"Speed, are you all right?"

::Uh…yeah. Why wouldn't I be?::

"Yes, why wouldn't you be." H answered softly. "Listen, Speed. Would it be all right if I came over? I want to talk to you about something."

::Yeah, sure. Fine. But…are you okay H? You sound a little strange.::

"Yes, I'm fine Speed. Better than I've been in three days."

End