Issues

By: Kuroi Neko-kun

Summary: One of their CSIs return to day-shift and since Speed's death, everyone notice that she has changed.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: Miami. Though the severely depressed character, Alena Richardson, in the story is mine. And the story itself.

Warning: Um… there's an OC? Oh, spoilers to Lost Son. And I haven't watched it yet. My country's still stuck in season 2. I'm not complaining though. Though I apologize for Ryan's OOC (if any). I don't know him yet.

A/N: My first CSI OC fic ever! This just came to my head. I wonder why?

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Chapter 1: Return

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The call came in at five in the morning. The loophole of all loopholes states that this was officially day-shift's call (though it had been argued that it was night-shift's call). Detective Frank Tripp decided he was better off working with dayshift anyway. He dialed the familiar number before jumping into the car. As he reached the crime scene, he noticed a Toyota Rav4 parked near the scene. He recognized the car and mentally searched the number. She can't be back… he thought as he parked his car. He climbed out and could see a young woman holding up a flash light, looking at the exterior of his scene. Standard protocol was to wait for the detective, after all.

"Alena?" The brunette turned around with a smile on her face.

"Hey, Frank," she said," long time, no see." Frank ignored that and looked at her, concern etched on her face.

"Alena, aren't you still on medical leave?" he asked.

"I was. My leave ended yesterday," she explained before turning to the scene," Are we going to check out the scene while it's still fresh or are we going to wait for Horatio?"

"This isn't your shift's call, Detective Richardson," Frank said firmly," I suggest you return home."

"I'm not going anywhere." Alena looked into his eyes, glaring hard. She was firm on not leaving.

"Please, Alena."

"I'm not leaving. You can call Johnson and get me off. I'm the first CSI on the scene and I'm not leaving unless you have a damn good reason, Tripp, and you don't!" Her temper was flaring and she took a deep breath to keep her cool. Tripp clenched and unclenched his fist, his head searching for something.

"I have a good reason, Alena." Both of them turned to the direction of the voice. Horatio was looking at her.

"H…" she mumbled.

"Frank, has the first officer cleared the scene?" H asked his eyes still leveled with Alena.

"Yeah," Frank answered.

"Good… Calleigh, Eric and Ryan are on their way. Will you walk them through?" Frank silently nodded before walking off. Alena let out a sigh. The last thing she wanted was a lecture from Horatio.

"Alena, let's walk to my car."

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The walk was silent and Alena felt uneasy. She had been used to Horatio's little lectures before as she had many encounters of them when she worked day-shift. That was before she took up the night-shift job. She sighed inwardly, glancing at Horatio, who had his dark glasses on, making sure she was unable to determine whether he was looking at her or not.

"Horatio…" she mumbled," I know I shouldn't be here but I couldn't wait to get back on shift and…" Horatio stopped her.

"How was therapy?" he asked. Alena looked at the ground, not wanting to answer. "Alena, Dr. Gerald told me that you haven't been progressing. It's already been six months since…" he stopped before gently lifting the younger woman's chin. He saw the tears flowing down her cheeks.

"I can't let him go, H…"

"You have to accept his death, Al," H mumbled," I don't think he'll be happy knowing that you're not moving on." Alena wiped her tears away before looking at the day-shift supervisor.

"H, can we go somewhere?"

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The cemetery's eerie silence never bothered him. It was the young lady that asked him to come here that did. He watched her walk down the row of headstones. She moved in one motion, knowing where she was heading as she had been here before. A lot of times before… the redhead thought as he followed her. She stopped at a particular headstone and squatted, touching the stone as she does so. H just stood over her, watching her actions. Her body moved with the sigh she let out and finally spoke.

"I come here every day," she mumbled," I know my psych says that I should only visit once a week, but I come here every day anyway."

"Alena…"

"I can't move on because I feel that I could have prevented his death. Every time I saw him in the locker room, I could have said something about his gun…" Horatio touched her shoulder.

"Your guilt is the same as mine, Al." She got up and faced him. Horatio saw the pained look on her face.

"But you don't have to live with not knowing how it feels to tell someone that you love him. If only I had the chance…" She turned back to the stone and sighed. "I won't let him go." Horatio looked into her sad green eyes, noticing that she had been given enough time to think of possibilities. It was not helping with her deteriorating mental health.

"We have to stop punishing ourselves at a point," H mumbled. Alena looked at him, giving him a sad smile.

"With the way things are going, H, I don't think I will." Horatio watched as she walked back to his Hummer. He looked back at the headstone.

"Don't worry, Speed," he mumbled," I'll take care of her." With that, he turned and walked away.

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As soon he reached the crime lab, he was skirted away by his usually cheery blonde CSI who dragged him to a corner. H looked at her with slight displeasure as there was a case that he needed to be updated upon.

"Frank told me that Alena was first on the scene today. You took her away before we came. Did her leave end today?" she said, in a rapid gunfire that may just come out from one of the machine guns that the Bullet Girl enjoyed processing.

"Yes, Calleigh," he said, in a calm voice. Calleigh is one of Alena's few friends. The questions were her form of worry. Horatio allowed it. "I took her home."

"You didn't go anywhere else? Because you know I can check what type of dirt is on your shoe…" H smiled before going back to his normal demeanor.

"She suggested we go to Speed's grave." He noticed the grimace on Calleigh's face. "We talked."

"About Tim?"

"More about her… She won't let him go."

"We know what that's doing to her. Maybe it's about time you talk to Johnson and transfer Alena to days. She needs to be surrounded by friends," the blonde suggested.

"And where do I put Ryan?"

"Well, she has to understand that he's a CSI, not someone to completely replace Tim," she said. Horatio's blue eyes leveled with her green ones.

"Did you accept it as that?"

"I try to," she mumbled truthfully.

"So do I but we have to understand that all of us will be replace one day," Horatio pointed out bluntly. The younger CSI sighed before looking back at Horatio.

"Did you accept it as that?" she asked before shaking her head. "You don't have to answer that to me, Horatio." Horatio watched the blonde CSI turn her back on him. He sighed.

Of course I don't, Calleigh… No one does.

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"Horatio!" A shout echoed in his office and was soon accompanied by the bang of his door being slammed shut by a rather frustrated man. H looked up from the paperwork he was doing and faced the man.

"Lieutenant Johnson, how nice of you to visit my office," H said cynically.

"Don't pull shit with me, Horatio! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" he said, slamming a piece of paper on his table. H looked at it for a moment.

"So you've found my transfer request. It seems like it's the only papers you can actually find, Dick." (A/N: yes, Lieutenant Dick Johnson… Enjoy the humor.) Dick glared at Horatio.

"You've stopped asking for transfers six months ago, what the fuck is the reason that you want my CSI?" Horatio patiently pushed pass his language.

"Dick, when I asked for the transfer the last time, the reason was to get her away from her abusive boyfriend, namely you."

"Fu—"

"One more and I'll personally take this matter to the director, Johnson," H said in an icy voice. He stood up and pushed the paper across his desk.

"Now, I know that Detective Richardson's transfer will only take place when both shift supervisors agree on the terms and sign the official papers. If you don't, then I'll bring all your… seedier matters to IAB."

"Stetler won't believe a fu… thing you say, Horatio," Johnson said, seething.

"I'm not bringing your case to Rick," Horatio said in a low voice," Liam would be interested in what one of the CSIs in his jurisdiction was doing to his own subordinates." Dick flinched at the name. A good reason he should. Horatio was talking about Liam Wilson, Head of the Internal Affairs Department of Miami-Dade Police Department. Also, a good friend of Horatio as the man needed the CSI's help in a case.

"You'd take it to Wilson?" Horatio flashed a cold smile.

"Let's discuss the terms of the transfer tomorrow," he said.

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Ryan Wolfe was not used to not seeing his supervisor at the crime scene before he arrived. Calleigh left he scene after talking to Tripp. Sensing that something was up, he tried to pick up news. He had asked Tripp what happened to Horatio, the detective said that there was a private matter he had to deal with. He tried prying something out of Delko but the CSI shot back that they had a crime scene to process. When he returned to the lab, he wanted to ask the man himself but got squared off with work. The next best thing, however, was Calleigh, who asked him for an update of the case. After he told her, he began asking questions.

"Horatio didn't question you when you talked to him?"

"No, we had more… serious matters to talk about."

"Matters like what?"

"Nothing that involves you," Calleigh said icily. Ryan took a breath and turned to her.

"It's about Speedle, isn't it?" The blonde turned and looked at him, a stoic expression on her face.

"Ryan… It's more than that."

"Then tell me. Calleigh, I can't work in a crime lab that decides that I don't have the right to know about a fallen comrade. I say that I do, so help me out and tell me." She couldn't ignore the look in Ryan's eyes. She sighed.

"You better sit down then."

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To Be Continued

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A/N: Okay, I just have something to get off my chest. This came to me when I was typing the story. Alena dated Johnson. I wonder what she said if she told her girl friends her boyfriend's name. I mean the jokes just write themselves (like 'how big is Dick's… err… Johnson?' and 'wow a double tap, you lucky girl, you.' etc.) Then again, my friends keep on asking 'how big is Horatio's cane?' Like I know…