Speed's POV:

What did I do wrong? I think as I pace my small apartment wondering why Horatio suddenly turned on me. Come on, think Speed - don't screw up the only thing that is right in your life. Not again. Not the way you usually do.

I try to sleep, but can't. Too many thoughts, too many emotions... everything is beginning to get jumbled. I can't think.

Doesn't he understand I need him? He soothes the demons... the addiction that long sleeves cover in the summer; the one I developed after I got clean. The drugs nearly killed me; cutting helps remind me I'm still alive. When I'm with him I can let go and know I'll be caught, and the pain he makes me feel is so incredibly sweet as he fills me.

It's been two weeks since I pissed him off. For two weeks I have managed to refrain from cutting myself. The case today brings it all back. A young girl. Looks like someone I used to know. OD. No family, no friends. Track marks up and down both arms.

I go home to my rat hole of an apartment and stare at the razor. I can feel the blade slice into my skin before I even touch it. I pick it up and sit down on the floor. Just one small cut, I promise myself. Just one, then I'll stop.

The sharp pain is soothing as the tears flow down my cheeks and the blood flows down my arm, reminding me of Horatio's blood. How wonderful he tasted. How much I want to tell him why I bite him like I do. And why I can't stop at just one. I never could. I feel the exhaustion set in. I fight it, but my eyes droop and I fall into darkness.

I wake with a jolt - my dreams filled with accusations, cold blue eyes, and blood. I pull myself off the bathroom floor and get cleaned up. The water stings, a reminder of the turn my life has taken. I bandage the wounds - dress in jeans and a long sleeve button down shirt and head to work.

And then, as if life couldn't get any worse, we get our next case. A young boy barely out of his teens - a suicide. Through the investigation we discover his lover had just died in a car accident. His parents refuse to believe it - their son isn't gay - their son would never commit suicide - their son isn't a freak.

I read the journal. My life flashes before me. Lost in pain - a salvation only to have it ripped away. I would have been that boy except I was found in time. I still could be that boy. Because as I look up from the journal I see my salvation and he's walking away from me.