It's Not Enough • •

[Devon Olivia Walker]

Devon had gone to work that morning in her usual high spirits, arriving at the precinct with a smile on her face before she swapped her casual clothes for her dark uniform. The morning had gone by without a hitch and nothing more than some paperwork and some follow up calls that the officers usually handled, since they were pretty much just tying up the loose ends of some of the resolved and closed cases. It was another average day in her life and when the call came over the radio for her to get back to the precinct immediately, she thought nothing of it, simply assuming that they had a new case and needed more manpower on it. It was only when she stepped through the homicide doors that she grew suspicious. One look too many came her way and then she spotted the board and the box on the detective’s desk closest to her. After that Devon barely heard the captain calling her name, ushering her into his office and telling her to take the rest of the week off.

She had daydreamed about solving the case, getting her family closure, but she was not prepared to see her brother’s picture up on that board, or the family name scribbled onto the box in bright red marker pen. She didn’t remember heading back to change into her normal clothes or even driving back to her apartment earlier than she ought to have been. On her answering machine the message was already there from her parents, confused chatter about what she knew and why she didn’t find time to warn them. Devon knew that she should’ve called them back or gone to visit, but she couldn’t. She just needed to be alone right now, but the memories were drowning her from back when the murder took place and she couldn’t stand the silence of her own apartment. It might have been early in the day but there was always a bar open in New York and it wasn’t long before she found herself perched on a barstool, ordering the drinks and knocking them back, allowing the alcohol to wash away the memories.

Eventually, the bar wasn’t enough and she went to the store and bought a bottle of rum; her poison of choice. There were healthier solutions and better options, but Devon didn’t care about them now. She just wanted to keep drinking until she forgot everything. The day turned to night and the sky darkened, but Devon found herself walking by the harbour, secretly nursing her bottle as logic faded from her mind and the intoxicated state took over, suggesting that she do all kinds. She hadn’t even been able to look at the file in the precinct or find out the exact reason why her brother’s case had been reopened and that was what was bugging her right now, more than anything else. It was getting colder, she was on the opposite side of the city to her apartment and she still didn’t fancy being alone tonight. She didn’t even want to talk to someone; she just wanted to be in the same place as them. Her family didn’t need to see her like this and the only other person she trusted right now was Bryce. It was too late for him to still be awake, she was sure of it, but his spare key hung from the set she had buried in the pocket of her shorts.

Quietly, in a way that was only ever manageable when on the wrong side of wasted, Devon let herself in and closed the door, greeted Scotty to calm him down before he woke Bryce up. She drained the rest of the bottle and leaned against the wall, wishing the room would stop spinning. After everything, she didn’t feel so good and made her way to the bathroom, just in case. Nothing happened, but she felt exhausted and didn’t want to stray too far from the bathroom to be on the safe side. Drunken logic led to her climbing into the bathtub, placing the empty bottle on the floor before she curled up and almost instantly passed out in the unconventional resting place.

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• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 732!
OUTFIT! Casual Mess!
LYRICS! How The Story Ends - - - Laura Baum
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

Bryce’s week started off as good as a CSI could really hope for, given the circumstances of his job. He closed a couple cases, spent some time with Tristan shooting some hoops and helping out with his science homework. He had dinner at his brother’s place, drove two hours out of his way to visit his parents at home and then it all went to hell. There were five murders in three days; one a double homicide and it was like the lab couldn’t keep up with the explosion of work on their plates. Bryce worked steady, pulling in extra hours on every case he could get his hands on. He was coming off a double now, working through the night and the better part of the day.

He was lucky he’d gotten a life at the beginning of the week, because he certainly didn’t have one at the end of it. Tired, exhausted from the hours he’d spent in the lab, Bryce stumbled into his building, up to his apartment and fell onto the couch before Scotty was at him licking his face to wake up. Groaning, Bryce rolled off the couch grabbing the leash from the ground that Scotty had brought over with him. He talked to the dog, making him sit nice before clipping the leash on and going back out the apartment door. The pair stopped twice during the walk, first at the beginning for a large coffee and second on the way back to the apartment for a pizza. Bryson didn’t want to cook and the leftovers he had in the refrigerator at him were far from good.

The CSI didn’t even open the pizza box when stepped through his apartment door again. He simply tossed the box onto the kitchen counter and went straight to the bathroom in desperate need for a shower. Refreshed and still dead tired, Bryce forced a slice down his throat before finding his way down the hall to his room, and bed where he didn’t even remember his head hitting the pillow. He felt better in the morning when his eyes finally opened. Before anything, he crawled out from under the sheets, went straight to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and then he went to the bathroom. He didn’t notice anything at first, but then his eyes weren’t really open either. His foot hit the bottle first, and then his eyes snapped open confused, spotting Devon in his tub before noticing the bottle he’d kicked a few inches away. Crouching down, Bryce grinned looking at the blonde officer, asleep in his tub. He hadn’t heard the door, which meant she’d let herself in. And he didn’t have the slightest clue what was up with her being in his house, but he’d given her the spare key for two reasons, one in case he’d lost his and two, if she ever needed anything, she had a key; even if it was something stupid like sugar.

Quietly, Bryce brushed his teeth, the whole reason he’d gone into the bathroom in the first place. By the time he was finished, the coffee was done, so he went back into the kitchen and poured to mugs, doctoring them properly before bringing them back down the hall to the bathroom. Carefully, so he wouldn’t spill any, Bryce sat on the floor next to the bathtub, still grinning at the sight. He almost wished he had grabbed his phone, just so he could have a picture to tease her with as well as the memory. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty, you’re fairy Godfather brought caffeine,” he said in a sing song tone, pushing Devon’s shoulder lightly.

Tag || Devon! ♥
Words || 614
Clothes || To Come!
Music || Young Forever --The Ready Set
Notes || ♥ ♥ ♥

[Devon Olivia Walker]

Devon was usually good at keeping her emotions away from the cases she was a part of. There was no point in going home and dwelling over the victims and their families; it would only drive her crazy. She knew what it was like and she had compassion for those people who found themselves in that position too, but if she spent all her time thinking about it then it would drag her down and tear her apart the same way Frankie’s death had torn her parent’s lives apart. She was stronger than that, but Frankie’s case being re-opened had caught her so off guard. She didn’t even know they had a similar case and mentally she had imagined endless scenarios in which the unsolved murder had finally gotten some fresh eyes, but this was definitely not one of them.

Being caught off guard on her return to the precinct had really opened Pandora’s Box and every memory she had that was associated with that unfortunate night three years ago. She wasn’t the type of person to reach for a bottle after a bad day, preferring to confront whatever was bothering her or spend time with those close to her. Last night had been a rare one for the young blonde and something that could’ve led her to worse places than Bryce’s bathtub. Devon hadn’t even thought about the morning when she stepped into his apartment, though she ought to have known that he’d be a little more than curious when he found her curled up in some awkward position in his bathroom.

She slept like the dead, barely moving despite her choice of bed being hard and pretty cold. It was probably a good thing that she was so short, otherwise she might have been a hell of a lot more uncomfortable that she actually was. She didn’t hear Bryce moving around the bathroom and Devon was usually a pretty light sleeper so it just indicated what kind of affect a bottle of rum could have on the officer. When he spoke to her, his voice seemed far off and hazy and it took her a few seconds and a groan to come to her senses, swatting away the hand that shook her. She didn't even process what he had said to her. Opening her eyes, Devon groaned again and moved her hand to cover her eyes from the morning light. Her head was pounding, her throat dry and her limbs with stiff; the only upside was that she hadn’t been sick after all. Keeping her eyes partially closed, Devon pushed herself up just enough to see Bryce properly where he sat. “Urgh, what time is it?”

[/color] She couldn’t make out the numbers on her watch and she felt like hell, slowly realising that she was in his bathroom as the few memories left from the night before came back to her, forcing another hungover groan from her throat as she pushed her tangled blonde locks back from her face and fought against the wave of nausea that felt like greeting her good morning. “I’ll just go. You’ve probably got things to be doing.”[/color] It was supposed to be one of her days in the precinct, but if she was seen anywhere near it her Captain would probably suspend her. She didn’t want to make Bryce late if he was needed at the lab and even if it was one of his days off, she suspected he’d already have plans for it and she didn’t think that they included dealing with a hungover blonde.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 620!
OUTFIT! Casual Mess!
LYRICS! How The Story Ends - - - Laura Baum
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

Where Devon was good with the emotional side of the crime scenes, Bryce was not. He went through the routine, but often found himself consoling the victim’s families and forgetting about asking the important questions until much later. But Bryce also didn’t know why Devon was so well adept at that aspect of their job. And Bryce preferred to collect samples, take pictures and analyze anyway. It was an easier job to do when you took the people out of the picture until they really needed to be in it. He cared; he wanted to find that puzzle piece that put everything into perspective, that crucial piece of evidence that basically solved the case. But he also couldn’t do that when his thoughts were on the family members grieving.

Bryce was just thankful he hadn’t gotten up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or he’d be yelling out in surprise and he probably wouldn’t be the only one. But he’d been to out of it from the double, nearly triple shift he’d pulled trying to solve those cases to even dream, let alone find his way out from under the blankets to use the bathroom. “It’s way too early for you either of us to be awake,” he said though he was pretty sure it was past ten. Still, with the amount of hours he’d put in under those harsh fluorescent lights, waking up before noon was a harsh reality. It was amusing to Bryce to see the one cop he knew who kept her head about her hung over in his bathtub.

The CSI could only shake his head at the blonde officer looking as if she was about to crawl from the ceramic tub. “I have nothing more than breakfast ahead of me today. I’ve been sent home like a bad child,” he said, grinning down at the hung-over girl behind the mug in his hands. “Just shut up and drink the coffee your fairy Godfather brought you,” he said, picking the mug up off the tiled floor and setting it on the thin edge of Devon’s bed that night. After a minute, Bryce stood up, holding his hand out for Devon to take so he could help her from her sleeping arrangements. “What do you want for breakfast? I’ll cook and you can talk,” he offered. He wasn’t about to let her leave without knowing why she used the spare key to his place and found his bathtub so comfortable the night before. One thing he did know for sure what that he needed to go back and train Treble a little more if he was going to let anyone into the apartment with a key without barking or making some sort of noise to alert his owner.

Tag || Devon! ♥
Words || 465
Clothes || To Come!
Music || Young Forever --The Ready Set
Notes || ♥ ♥ ♥

[Devon Olivia Walker]

She had been on both sides of a homicide scene, and she still didn’t know whether that made her better at her job, or simply more driven to help find closure for the grieving families she encountered. She had thought very little could crack her like this, least of all the reopening of her brother’s case, but here she was, close to rock bottom in less than twenty four hours. She had wanted so badly to be part of that case when the time came, but the way it caught her so off guard with the faces of the people she worked with staring at her like they knew her darkest secret now. If there had been a hint or a clue that told her they were thinking of reopening that cold case, then she might have been able to brace herself, handle seeing her brother’s face staring across the homicide division. She was too close though, and despite her best efforts, her blue eyes held all the emotion the Captain had needed to send her away. She needed to know what was happening there. She had to know something about the case. Devon didn’t do well when she was being kept in the dark about things she cared about.

Devon probably could’ve slept for a few more hours if she had remained undisturbed, but she knew she’d hate herself for wasting a day, even if she didn’t have anywhere to be or anything to do. She wanted to find out what was happening in the detail that only a member of the NYPD was privileged to. From experience, she knew her family would have been told very little, kept in the dark of most of the little details until there was enough proof to give them hope. None of that was good enough for her now though. She knew how it worked and they couldn’t pawn her off with vague information; probably another reason for her banishment. “Then let a girl sleep.”

[/color] Devon mumbled, the hangover making her uncharacteristically grumpy for this time of day. She felt rotten; her head was spinning, her stomach was silently threatening to remind her of what she had done the night before and none of it helped her to forget.

“I know that feeling.”[/color] Being kicked out of the precinct made her feel like she had done something wrong, when in fact she had barely had the time to breathe near the open case files. She blinked at the coffee when he placed it on the edge of the tub and then pushed her wild hair back again, rubbing the mascara from her eyes before picking it up, nursing the mug in her hands as she brought her knees to her chest for the first sip of the delicious caffeine fix she probably needed right now. Groaning, she put the mug down and took his hand, stumbling slightly in her state as she climbed from the tub, leaning back against the opposite wall to try and stop the sound of the blood whooshing around her head. “Something greasy and fried.”[/color] She needed something to help her recover from last night’s logic of a bottle of rum being the cure for everything. “What makes you think there’s anything to talk about?”[/color] It was dumb question, but she got to avoid the topic for a little longer this way, crossing to the sink to wash her face and remove the slight mascara smudges around her eyes.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 618!
OUTFIT! Casual Mess!
LYRICS! How The Story Ends - - - Laura Baum
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

“I’d rather not get caught with my pants down, thanks,” he said sarcastically. “Were you a normal person and found your drunken ass on my couch, I wouldn’t have woken you up at all,” he added blandly. At least, not until he had some food made so he could entice her to wake up and spill her reasons. Bryce had been annoyed at being told to leave by his bosses at first, but they weren’t paying him overtime to be there and going into a triple shift wasn’t exactly regulation. He hadn’t even been allowed to have a little peek into the boxes that were coming in as he was walking out. “It was needed,” he said, shaking his head. He didn’t want to go home, but he had needed it after finally getting there and walking Scotty, the CSI was dead on his feet. He felt a hell of a lot better now though; which was more than he could say for Devon. She had seen better days and it made Bryce want to get her out of her bed and to the couch a lot faster than they were getting.

“Extra-large omelette and hash browns?” he asked, stepping out of her way and leaning against the doorframe. “Hmm… I have no idea, I guess I must be psychic,” he answered, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t sure what exactly had brought Devon to his door at the unknown hour and had her crawling into his bathtub to sleep away the alcohol, but for her clear head to get that cloudy, it had to have been something pretty big; and he was going to pry it out of her if he had to. Devon didn’t use her key to his apartment unless it was serious, or he’d left his back in his locker at the lab. It had happened a couple times now and though the petite blonde officer teased him about it, she still helped him out. Now it was his turn to do the helping. Once Devon was finished cleaning the makeup smeared on her face off, Bryce helped her down the hall in case she was unsteady on her feet like she’d been getting out of her new bed. Leaving Devon to her own devices Bryce went over to the kitchenette and started pulling out ingredients and pans. The sooner he got the food cooked and in her hands, the better.

Tag || Devon! ♥
Words || 404
Clothes || Sleepy CSI
Music || Young Forever --The Ready Set
Notes || ♥ ♥ ♥

[Devon Olivia Walker]

Raising a lazy eyebrow, Devon threw Bryce a tired look. “You’ve never had to work Friday nights around the student buildings, have you?”

[/color] She joked, although she had seen much more on those nights than she ever needed to. Some of those college kids simply couldn’t handle their alcohol and others thought it made them invincible. Glancing around she did realise that her bedroom for the night had not been wholly conventional, but she quickly remembered the drunken logic that brought her here. “I didn’t want to be sick on your couch.”[/color] She explained, trying to will the pounding in her temples away.

Devon wasn’t usually a bitter person and the morning usually had her greeting her neighbours on her way to work with a smile and a polite “how are you”, but the hangover combined with the rest of her current thoughts had shattered that happy little lifestyle right now. “At least you’ll be back tomorrow?”[/color] She offered, though her optimism wavered. She was, technically, suspended for a week and if the case was still rolling by then she’d either be reassigned or told to use some of her vacation days. Without something like her job to keep her busy she was scared of how long it would be before she’d join her family as some broken down mess. Back when Frankie had been killed she had buried herself in her studies and every anniversary since in her work, so this was the first time she felt truly exposed to the horror of it.

“Sounds perfect.”[/color] She said as she managed a small smile. Even if Devon had found herself passed out on Bryce’s couch she ought to have known that her CSI friend would’ve known something was wrong with her; something she couldn’t shrug off. Hell, it wasn’t even like she was dressed for a night out to make up some story there, either. Sometimes, Devon forgot how much she kept buried deep inside. She played the role of any other happy twenty-three year old and yet her blue eyes had seen a hell of a lot more than anyone ought to have done by that age. Right now she seemed to be remembering it all and it was making her uncharacteristically frazzled. She had made a point of never talking about the reasons she became a cop or mentioning the emotional mess the rest of her family had been in for the last three years. Devon dealt with all of that herself, keeping busy when she felt herself starting to drown in her grief. Now, for the first time, she actually felt like she needed to tell someone. She leaned against the wall, her eyes watching Bryce as he moved to cook the breakfast that already had her stomach growling. Devon was so much better at this when it was someone else’s loss and not her own. She thought about it silently for a little longer, but eventually her heart beat her hungover brain to the punch and it didn’t quite come out as eloquently as she would’ve liked. “My brother’s dead. Did you ever know that?”[/color] She knew Bryce probably didn’t, but Dev’s sense of logic and reason was gone right now and she was really just winging this with word vomit and blurted statements.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 553!
OUTFIT! Casual Mess!
LYRICS! How The Story Ends - - - Laura Baum
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

Bryce shook his head, grinning. “There’s not much need for CSI in that area usually. And I’m usually day shift so,” he trailed off with a shrug. He barely left the lab half the time with all the work piled up. There were too many new cases piling up on top of the old cases in the lab and just not enough people to work them all. When Bryce got called to a scene with the rest of the team, it was usually because it was a big case and it needed more man power so all the people with badges got to leave the white coats behind and strap the sanctioned nine millimetre to their waists. He had been out the day before but when he came back and worked through what he could of what they bagged, tagged and brought back, he grabbed the folder on the top of the pile and started through that one.

Shaking his head, Bryce couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the petite blonde officer currently hung over in his home. “There’s a red bucket under the sink for that reason, Hon,” he said, biting his lip so he wouldn’t start chuckling. If there was one thing the CSI learned from having drunk friends stop by unannounced at three in the morning was that it was wise to keep an extra bucket hidden away. There was no use tossing away a good rug, pillow or blanket because there was vomit on it. Just grab the bucket and they then had a target to aim for. Bryce shook his head, displeased with that news. He knew he needed the time off because of the hours he had put in. But that was the whole point of being a cop or CSI, to put in those hours to help people. His boss didn’t want to see him on the same street as his precinct for three days. “I don’t think I’m even allowed back past those doors on Monday morning, honestly. He said seventy-two hours.” If he was wrong, there was sure to be a phone call first thing, with his boss on the other end yelling at him for being late.

Bryce didn’t know much about Devon’s life before she entered the academy. There were a few stories here and there, little puzzle pieces of insight to who the blonde in the blue uniform really was. But he hadn’t been there before and she seemed to keep that part of her life separate from the cop part; which he could understand. He didn’t go around telling Tristan everything about work. If he did, there was a chance the boy wouldn’t have an Uncle Bryson anymore. He’d been cracking the second egg into the heated frying pan when Devon blurted the news unceremoniously. Thankfully the egg landed in the frying pan and not half on the floor. Slowly, Bryce’s eyes wandered to the pretty blonde using his wall as a crutch. “No, I hadn’t been aware you had siblings. I’m sorry. What happened?” he asked softly, carefully. Whatever had happened was clearly nothing good if the anguish was still as clear as day. Whatever it was also had to have happened before the pair met or there would have definitely been conversations about that, and Bryce would have been at the funeral to support Devon; that was a given.

Tag || Devon! ♥
Words || 565
Clothes || Sleepy CSI
Music || Young Forever --The Ready Set
Notes || ♥ ♥ ♥

[Devon Olivia Walker]

Devon shook her head and bit back a tired smile. She had lost track of the amount of times she had volunteered for a night shift or been scheduled in on one because of cuts and issues of man power. It wasn’t wholly uncommon for her to spend a Friday night walking the streets and making sure the drunk got home in one piece. “They should educate you in it. You’d be surprised.”

[/color] Devon was and she had gone through the college experience only a few years back.

Devon stuck her tongue out at him and then pushed her hair back from her face. “I was drunk. C’mon, Bryce, you know drunk logic rarely makes any sense. The bath seemed better than hunting for a bucket.”[/color] She paused, biting her lip again as she fiddled with the watch strap on her wrist. “Besides, I didn’t want to wake you up or cause a fuss.”[/color] Devon didn’t want to be alone last night, but she also didn’t want someone asking questions and fussing over her either. It just made more sense when she was influenced by a bottle of rum. The hangover might have been in full swing, but she still didn’t feel ready to deal with everything. If someone offered her an alternative right now Devon was definitely likely to snatch it up without hesitation. “Then I’m all for drinking away our technical suspensions.”[/color] The word might have not been used, but to her it seemed like what had happened. Enforced leave with or without pay didn’t exactly have many other names. Without her job to keep her busy Devon didn’t know how she would keep herself from going stir crazy. Thinking about the case seemed like inevitability but with no information to add to her thoughts it was the same endless circle that she had ran over and over again since she had heard of Frankie’s death. It couldn’t be good for her and the only way to avoid it was to forget about it. Drinking was not the best option but then hung over Devon never did have the best ideas.

The young blonde didn’t know if there was some sort of etiquette when it came to talking about these sorts of things, but if there was then she hadn’t discovered it yet. She felt Bryce’s eyes fall on her and wrapped her arms around her midriff, almost comforting herself from what she knew she had to say. “That photograph on my phone? My cheerleading days? The guy in it is my brother, Frankie.”[/color] She admitted, finding it harder to say than to think, and choking on the words before she managed to get them out. If she was going to tell him this, then it was going to be backwards and in fits and starts. Devon just couldn't gather her thoughts enough in this state to make sense. “I have a little sister, too; Steph. It’s horrible to think about, but sometimes I think I’m going to answer a call and find her dead, too. She went off the rails after Frankie died and my parents are in no state to keep her clean. They just want answers and I don’t have any for them.”[/color] Devon paused, trying to blink back the tears, but they still fell. She rarely spared any tears for the things she couldn’t change, but this time was different and she didn’t care about keeping up an appearance anymore. “It was three years ago. I was at Stanford and I got a call in the middle of the night from my mom. Frankie had been shot and bled out in the middle of the street. They never caught the damn bastard who shot him.”[/color] She slid down the wall to the floor, finally giving into the emotions she kept bottled away. “They reopened the case yesterday; something about fresh evidence and I can’t do anything.”[/color] She choked out before breaking down completely and uncharacteristically for the usually composed blonde.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 629!
OUTFIT! Casual Mess!
LYRICS! How The Story Ends - - - Laura Baum
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

Bryce was usually lucky with shifts. And even then, he spent most of his time in the lab working behind the microscope or pulling fibers from clothing. He enjoyed his job for the most part, all until he had to speak to the family members, friends and witnesses. Those few moments nearly killed him. “I think I’ll pass those classes, thanks,” he said, grinning. If he could stay in the lab and do what he enjoyed, he would, but then he would never be on the streets, and he wanted that. He had wanted that from the moment he’d decided what he wanted to be. “Better than finding you threw up all over my couch,” he said with a shrug. Finding her asleep, curled up in his bath was the better option in the end so really, he couldn’t complain. “I think you might have done enough of that last night for the both of us,” he said, shaking his head. Right now, he just wanted to get some food into his friend and get her a little closer to sober and coherent than she was.

Devon had never mentioned she had a brother; she didn’t talk much about her family or her life before the academy. Bryce didn’t actually either, though there were some stories he told that gave away his childhood. Of course, nothing overly bad had ever happened to him either, aside from the plane trip from hell. So, he didn’t feel the need to keep anything to himself. Still, Bryce stayed with Devon, listened to everything she had to say. It was difficult to hear it all, he felt bad, but feeling bad and telling her as much wouldn’t do anything. And she’d heard it all before. He wanted to help but he’d been sent home just as she had, for different reasons, sure but same result. He didn’t want to be, but he was used to this. Devon was just like any other family member of a victim and he hated it. Devon wasn’t the type to fall apart and it took Bryce off guard when she just fell against the wall and slid down.

He left everything where it was on the counters, the stove to go to Devon’s side. He never saw her that broken. It was unnerving to say the least. Bryce could put two and two together though, and realized those boxes that were coming in when he was going out where probably those of her brother’s case. Now he wanted to get his hands in those boxes and see for himself. He wrapped his arms around the tiny blonde cop, rubbing her back and trying his hand at soothing words. He wasn’t good at this part of anything. He didn’t soothe and it took everything he had to stay in the moment when he absolutely couldn’t get out of asking the witnesses questions. Worst of all, he didn’t know what to say to her about it all; he didn’t know how to make it better.

Tag || Devon! ♥
Words || 505
Clothes || Sleepy CSI
Music || Young Forever --The Ready Set
Notes || ♥ ♥ ♥

[Devon Olivia Walker]

There had been times when Devon had seen herself in the family of the victims. There had been siblings fighting for answers and other too distraught to think straight. She had been there, she remembered it herself and she had always thought that it made her better at her job. She could connect with them and if she said “I understand what you’re feeling” then she truly meant it. It didn’t make dealing with the families any easier, but she doubted that there was anything that could make that part of her job simple. “I’d have cleaned the couch.”

[/color] She said on a tired sigh. Devon had meant to be gone before Bryce had even woken up, but the empty bottle in the bathroom had put her in a deep sleep and even if it was one she needed, it was one she didn’t appreciate. She didn’t like being seen by the people closest to her when she was in this state.

Devon had never been a very public person, but with Frankie’s death the young blonde had certainly changed and the tales and stories of her past seemed to get locked away in a box for no one else to see. They motivated and drove her through the tough days, but sometimes they just weren’t enough; like now. She felt helpless and it wasn't a common feeling for the independent cop who had fought and worked hard to try and save others from meeting the same end as her brother. It had become her life in so many ways and she couldn’t even begin to think about what it might be without a murder board each morning and criminals riding in the back of the car most days.

She wasn’t expecting anything from Bryce as she told him her secret. She hadn’t planned on him finding out, especially not like this. At his touch though, she welcomed the hug, turning into his side more as she let the tears fall. Devon had never allowed herself to really grieve. In the aftermath of the murder she had been too busy picking up the pieces of her family and then heading back to Stanford to finish up school. Every time Frankie crept into her thoughts and tears pricked at her eyes she had always been able to find something to do; change her dreams, put in the overtime, hit the gym…there was always something she could do to fight away the heartbreak of losing her best friend. People had asked her if she was okay, had tried to get her to talk, but Devon just flashed them a smile and lied through her teeth, reassuring herself more than them. This was the first time she had ever found herself at a loss with nothing to pull herself up with. So, she cried, finding comfort in Bryce’s arms. Wiping at her eyes, Devon blushed, feeling foolish for breaking down like that and sat back up, averting her eyes from his; she didn’t want to see what he might be thinking. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do any of this.”[/color] Her mind was still running faster than she could keep up with and unloading on Bryce like this had never been part of her plan. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”[/color] She probably didn’t look it and she definitely didn’t feel it, but she had to say it; she had to pick herself back up.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 607!
OUTFIT! Casual Mess!
LYRICS! How The Story Ends - - - Laura Baum
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

Bryce liked to think of himself as the go to guy of his friends whenever they needed something. He was fairly decent with advice and he always had a couch for someone to crash on if they were on the outs with their partners or if like Devon, they were too drunk to find their way to their own homes. For this exact reason, he kept an extra bucket under the kitchen sink so he wouldn’t find himself cleaning someone else’s vomit off his hardwood flooring. He’d already done that once before and he wasn’t interested in doing it again; ever. But finding Devon asleep in his bathroom, he’d felt like something was a little different than his usual drunken wake up calls. Mostly because he was woken up by a very loud knock on his door and slurred conversation which led to Bryce leading whichever drunken friend to the couch with the bucket, a pillow and a blanket. “No, you wouldn’t have but that’s okay,” he said, lightly. “Besides, it’s sort of my job,” he added, teasing, though crime scene cleanup wasn’t actually in the job description, he did have to pick up things, collect things and he had to keep his work spaces in the lab spotless, and that was close enough in his books.

Bryce would be the first person to admit he kept things to himself, and he would bet a lot of people were like that. He knew Devon was, so it was no surprise really that she’d had some stories of her past that she’d kept to herself. And clearly these stories hurt to be remembered let alone retold over and over again. There was no wonder why she didn’t talk about it all. Bryson didn’t have anything at all like that driving him to do his job every day. He just liked what he did; he liked helping people in his own way. He liked science, enjoyed it and he got along well enough with the people he worked with. He didn’t enjoy having to see those distraught victims, witnesses and family members of, but then, he also thought when it stopped bothering him; it would be time for him to move on.

Devon’s mood and distress hit something in him like a freight train when she just burst into tears. He’d never seen her cry before; ever. He had seen some misty eyes when certain crime scene and that didn’t confuse him now, but while the tears welled, they never fell in front of him. And now they were and Bryce just wanted to make it better. He couldn’t, there was no way for him to do anything but hold her close until the shudders subsided and she was calmed down a little bit more. When he went back into the labs, he would get himself on that case. Another set of fresh eyes wouldn’t hurt. “Shut up would you?” he said, rolling his eyes. She might not have meant to break down, but she had and now Bryce was going to try and make it better. Shaking his head, Bryce reached out and pulled Devon back against him. “Say what you want, I know better. You’re going to go out to that couch, lay down, sit down I don’t care, but you’re going to relax and I’m going to bring you out some coffee and a very big omelette. Alright?” He asked, tilting his head down to look at Devon.

Tag || Devon! ♥
Words || 579
Clothes || Sleepy CSI
Music || Young Forever --The Ready Set
Notes || ♥ ♥ ♥

[Devon Olivia Walker]

Devon felt bad whenever she had to rely on someone. She just didn’t like burdening others with her own problems. Bryce, especially, seemed to be the one she turned to most of all these days, rather than any of her older friends. She could talk to him about things she couldn’t tell Fallon and while Myles could also be privy to case information without anyone being reprimanded, sometimes the man just didn’t know when a joke needed to end and a serious answer needed to be given. It didn’t mean that she liked it anymore, but with Bryce she knew that he would sort of understand. At least that’s what Devon hoped for. “I have no idea what we’re even talking about anymore.”

[/color] She confessed, pressing her fingers against her pulsing temples as she tried to recall how they got onto a conversation about her being sick on a couch she hadn’t even glanced at last night.

Frankie’s death had opened the door to the academy for Devon and it did drive her, even now. However there was something more, something greater than the death of one man that motivated her each and every day when the rain was pounding down hard on the sidewalk and she still had a perimeter to keep up. Helping people, getting involved and seeing the faces of the families when they finally got closure; that kept her going. She might have been at the bottom of the career ladder and the people didn’t hear of the work she did, but just being a part of a team that put criminals behind bars filled Devon with a sentiment that she couldn’t even begin to describe, but one that she knew she shared with the rest of her colleagues. They had to go through a lot of terrible things, see horrific images and face bad news to get there, but each time Devon felt like it was worth it to bring a little bit more peace into someone’s life.

She had never felt like this before though. Every time Frankie’s death had come up in her life, she had been able to turn her attentions to something else. When she had been sent home, told to take a week of vacation time, it had been like someone had seen through the years of bottling everything away and had just told her to go and deal with it; face the thing she ran from. Apparently dealing with three years of pent up grief was not a pretty sight and it was something Devon didn’t want to be going through. The tiny blonde clung to Bryce for a moment longer, listening to him and then nodded her head slowly, blinking up at him. “Alright.”[/color] She wasn’t in the mood for arguing or even insisting that she was fine anymore. Right now, with the emotions and the hangover in full swing, all the fight had left her.

Devon crossed to the couch and sat down, tucking her knees up under her chin and trying to relax. Everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours was pressing down on her and her muscles were tense, no matter how much she tried to just let go of everything. Digging her fingers into her knots of blonde hair, Devon closed her eyes, trying to will the pounding of her head away as well as the overwhelming emotions that had left her feeling drained already. It was not how any girl wanted to start a day, ever.
[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 621!
OUTFIT! Casual Mess!
LYRICS! How The Story Ends - - - Laura Baum
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

Bryson had never really had anyone he could turn to growing up when he had problems. He had his nanny, Rebecca, but after a while, she wasn’t much help at all. She made sure he had food on a plate, that his homework was done and reminded him a half dozen times to clean his room. And aside from the scattered textbooks and miscellaneous sports equipment, it was clean. His brother was ten years older than him and had adult problems so Bryce hadn’t felt his own issues were worth burdening the father with. So now, Bryce made it a point to always be there for his friends if they ever needed anything at all. If he could help it, he wouldn’t turn a friend away. He knew too well what it was like to be left on his own when he needed someone and he really didn’t like it.

“Then we’ll change the subject,” He said, easily enough. He might have been the clear headed of the two, but he couldn’t remember what exactly they were talking about either. His mind kept jumping around from conclusion to speculation and back again. He was glad Devon knew she could come to him with any of her problems but at the same time he was also wondering what was considered a big enough problem for her to need someone to talk to. A case for either of them wasn’t usually a reason to call up the other; unless fresh eyes were needed on a case that had already gone on long enough. He’d had a few of those himself but with so many eyes in the lab, it was easy to just call out in the hall for a quick question. And usually after tossing a couple ideas back and forth, there was another angle to pursue.

As much as Bryce loved doing what he did, there were aspects that he wished he never had to witness himself. He hated seeing the victims, the ones they couldn’t save, being put in black bags and being carted away. He still couldn’t fathom how anyone could feel killing another human being was their last option. And he felt like if there ever came a day when he didn’t feel like meeting his breakfast again at the sight of a particularly gruesome crime scene, it would be time for a change. Bryce walked with Devon to the couch, made sure she found it and not the floor with the wicked headache she was coping with before he turned back to the rather nice kitchen the apartment boasted. The large living space was basically the sole reason Bryce chose the place. Aside from the bathroom, the living room and kitchen were the only used rooms in the whole place whenever he and his nephew were having a gamer weekend.

Bryce cooked up a couple omelettes in record time, knowing that getting food into the blonde beat cop would be the best option at the moment. With food on plates, he poured two very big mugs of coffee, doctored them properly and pulled the small bottle he kept hidden away for his own “wish he had a different head” days. He wished he had a tray to carry everything out with, but with Tristan coming around a lot, Bryce was good with juggling. He managed, though barely, to bring everything out in one shot; not that it was such a long walk from point A to B. Even more impressive considering, was how he managed to get everything on the table without spilling or toppling anything in his arms. “Eat, drink and take,” he said, pulling the Tylenol bottle from his pocket and setting them on the table next to Devon’s coffee.

Tag || Devon! ♥
Words || 626
Clothes || Sleepy CSI
Music || Young Forever --The Ready Set
Notes || ♥ ♥ ♥