This is a Harry Potter and CSI: Miami crossover. I do not own either, they belong to their rightful creators.

WARNING: This is a SLASH one shot so that means male/male. If you do not like that pairing then don't read this fic. RANDOM. Not beta'd.

Tim Speedle never died in 'Lost Son'.

Pre Pairing: Harry/Tim

"You coming or what, Speedle?" Harry called over his shoulder. "I'd have aged a bloody decade before we actually get to arrest the murderer."

"I'll take my time, thank you. It's not like Barselo is going anywhere anyway."

"Great, you've just gone and jinxed us."

"Yeah whatever."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Tim muttered.

"Why? We know that Barselo did it." Harry argued. "We have the evidence and now all we need to do is bring the man in."

"Yeah, well not everything runs smoothly."

"Stop being so pessimistic."

"Someone has to be," Tim sighed.

Harry snorted but didn't answer, instead focusing on the road, pulling up minutes later at their destined location.

"There he is," Tim jumped out of the car.

"Frank Barselo you are under arrest for the murder of Jensen and Sophia Curtais," Harry barked out stepping up to join his partner, gun drawn. "Please put your hands above your head and get down on the ground."

Frank looked at Harry panicked. The other two men shifted behind him, moving out to stand beside the man.

"Now," Tim snapped.

Harry kept his gun aimed on the suspect, narrowing his eyes as he saw the man hesitate.

"Don't even think about it Frank." Harry warned.

Tim tensed from next to Harry, his hand tightening on the weapon in his possession.

"I can't go to jail." The man said. "I won't go back!"

Both CSIs didn't have any time before Frank and his friends all pulled out out their guns and started shooting. Harry threw himself behind the wall of the building, barely noticing Tim doing the same, shielding himself with Harry's Hummer.

"Of all the things to protect himself with, he had to choose my car." Harry grumbled, wincing as several bullets hit the side of the vehicle, leaving deep indents and holes in the door and front side.

Angrily Harry moved into view, sending his own volley of rounds at the men. He knew that this wouldn't end well, a feeling of unease stirred in pit of his stomach even as he managed to graze one of their attackers.

Harry ducked as one of the men fired back at him in retaliation. Harry covered his head as the glass window above him shattered. Swearing to himself, Harry looked over to Tim who was moving out of his crouched position behind the car.

The taller CSI aimed his gun and pulled the trigger. He would have hit one of the men if it wasn't for the gun malfunctioning.

Tim glared at his gun as he tried to get it to fire, not looking up as one of the shooters, Frank, aimed at the distracted man with the intent of finishing him off. Harry caught the suspects' line of sight and shouted for Speedle to get down even as he ran towards him.

Harry only just barely knocked Tim out of the way with his shoulder before Frank pulled the trigger twice. Pain flared up in his chest as one of the bullets pierced his skin, the other grazing his arm as his body was forced back. Harry gasped out in pain as he fell to the ground.

"Harry!" Tim shouted out in horror from his lying position on the road.

But Harry couldn't answer, his mouth was quickly filling with blood and it took all his energy and focus on keeping his eyes open and himself awake. He was starting to feel cold and numb, like he had been out in the snow for too long with only a t-shirt to protect him.

The men took this as their chance to get away and risked being out in the open to reach the cover of the surrounding buildings.

Tim allowed them to go as he crawled to Harry's side. He pulled out his phone and quickly called the hospital, demanding assistance as quick as possible.

"Stay with me Harry." Tim said as he threw his cell phone aside. "Don't you dare die on me!"

"Numb," Harry choked out, blooding seeping out past his lips.

"Oh god, no, Harry," Tim said, hands shaking. "Stay with me." He repeated.

"Cold." Harry added as he coughed out blood.

"Ignore that, okay. Ignore all of that and look at me." Tim pleaded.

Harry tried to speak again but it only came out as a gurgle.

"No, don't speak anymore, just concentrate on me."

Harry fought down a surge of panic. His mind telling him that he needed to talk and to tell Tim what he was feeling.

"Listen to me, okay?" He cried. "Please try to stay awake for me."

Tim took off his jacket and pressed it against the wound. He winced as Harry let out a gasp of pain and blood dribbled out of his mouth.

Squeezing Tim's hand as hard as he could, Harry breathed through his nose, trying to concentrate on his collegues' voice. It was like he was underwater, his muscles aching and limbs heavy as if he had been swimming hard for hours.

"Keep your eyes open Harry!"

The man struggled, fighting to keep them from closing. It was so hard and he was just so tired. He could vaguely feel through his numbed state Tim cradling him, putting pressure on his wound even as his blood soaked through the material in his jacket and pooled on the concrete beneath them.

"The paramedics are on their way, so hold on." Tim begged.

Something wet fell onto Harry's face and if it wasn't for his clouding vision, he would have seen Speedle crying. Harry tried to tell him that it wasn't his fault but he couldn't form the words. He hoped that the man didn't blame himself because of his malfunctioned weapon. Everything was so fuzzy now. It was getting harder to understand what was going on. Maybe it would be good to let go, it felt like he should let go. To just sleep like his body was screaming at him to do. It wasn't as if it would be hard.

"No, Harry. Please no." Tim whispered.

Harry could almost feel his body shutting down, his heartbeat loud in his ears even as everything started to become blurry and darkness started to creep in. Tim's voice was distant now, becoming more hysterical but quieter and distorted. He gave one more weak attempt to fight the fog that was pulling at him.

Suddenly a high pitched noise reached his ears. There was something familiar about it but he couldn't remember, the answer just beyond his grasp. He gave up trying and, exhausted, slipped into darkness.

-X-

"He's a CSI... shoot-out... don't... make it..."

"Doctor!"

"He needs to be operated on right now!"

Several nurses were running down the hallway with Harry lying on a gurney, being pulled down to one of the operation rooms. The man felt numb, barely conscious during the plight through the hospital, and he blamed it on the crash pads that they were forced to use on him on the way there.

"Coughing... blood... punctured..."

"Operate... bullet."

Harry felt himself being lifted and quickly lowered, much like when they unloaded him out the ambulance. He gave a gasp and found himself choking on thick fluid substance that he couldn't quite identify. He struggled, trying to spit it out but only serving to choke on the liquid, blocking his airway and stopping him from drawing oxygen into his lungs. He found himself falling into darkness again.

"Crash pads!"

The words reached his subconscious mind even as a sudden jolt of electricity hit Harry, calming his panic for a moment as he was left disorientated. It came again and Harry was made aware of a pain in his chest. More so he realized that the liquid in his mouth which caused his breathing to become restricted was actually his own blood.

"... Got a pulse!"

"I can't get him stable!"

"... Losing too much blood..."

"For Gods sake, put the tube in so he can breathe!"

Harry found himself whimpering as what seemed like fire burned his upper torso. He refused to suffer like this, and found himself surrounded by a thickening mist, leading him towards the cool darkness that soothed his tortured body, even as the light he was hovering in started to fall away. He briefly wondered how he got there but the answer didn't seem all that important anymore.

"We have no time..."

"Now... bullet needs to be..."

"Injecting him..."

He relaxed slightly, feeling like his was weightless. Until his attention was grabbed by the outline of two figures. They were walking towards him slowly, gracefully, keeping themselves out of focus. Even so, Harry felt like he knew them, that he should recognize them somehow.

"Successful..."

"Hopefully, if we can keep him-"

Harry frowned as he was assaulted by the voices once again, feeling a slight tingle wash over him before he could shrug it off. He didn't know how long he had stood still, watching the figures. He straightened as they paused, stopping their progress just outside of the lightened area. Harry wanted to call out, to ask who they were. He had a feeling but the names alluded him, dancing just out of reach.

He stretched his arm out, wanting to touch them...

"Oh no you don't!"

"We're losing him again!"

"... Can't seem to..."

Words flowed to him, accompanied by a series of shocks that penetrated Harry's body, forcing him to to turn away to stare at the white glow that took up his vision.

He didn't want going back though. Harry stared at the figures, taking a step towards them before a familiar voice echoed inside his head.

"Harry!"

That was his name. Who...

"Don't you dare die on me!"

Someone was dying. Harry looked around him in panic.

"No, Harry. Please no."

Tim? So he was the one who was shouting. Suddenly Harry found himself facing what had occurred just earlier that day. Flashes flew through his mind, barely giving him time to process any of it. Frank Barselo standing. Guns pointed at him. His Hummer being used as a shield. Tim just standing there. Blood. The sound of crying.

Harry backtracked, moving away from the shadows, and fought the fog that was wrapped around his body. He needed to see Tim, to make sure that his partner was okay. The mere thought of the man drove Harry to push himself harder. His arm reaching towards the ball of light, fascinated as it grew larger as he came closer. Harry chanced a look back, catching a brief flash of red before he found himself encompassed by warmth.

"...Fighter..."

"We need to get him stabilised!"

"He'll rip his stitches!"

The fire was back but this time Harry embraced it. His one determined thought was to see Tim. To know if he was alright. He couldn't remember if his friend was hurt or not.

Harry blinked his physical eyes open before he winced as the overhead light of the hospital reached his pupils. He moved his head to the side, squinting as he tried to put the blurry shapes into focus.

"Glad to have you back, Mr Potter," one of the blurred shapes said soothingly.

"But you need to rest now," another spoke up, "your body has been put under a lot of strain."

Harry found himself watching as one of the doctors injected some liquid into a tube in his arm. He fought briefly but he was too weak and he only managed to aggravate his wounds.

"Calm down, Mr Potter." A hand on his shoulder to still him. "I wouldn't want you to do any more damge to yourself. Sleep."

And before Harry knew it, his eyes were closing, finding himself too tired to keep them open.

I was bored, and this came into my head. What do you think?