No Other One, Chapter 74
Title: No Other One, Chapter 74
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yelina Salas, Horatio Caine, the whole Caine family
Author's Note: WARNING: SPOILER FOR SEASON 6.
Summary: Almost two decades ago, Horatio made a decision that would change his family forever. Will they ever forgive him? Will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? This is an alternative to the beginning of season 6. A Horatio and Kyle story; H/Y romance in the future.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35, Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44, Chapter 45, Chapter 46, Chapter 47, Chapter 48, Chapter 49, Chapter 50, Chapter 51, Chapter 52, Chapter 53, Chapter 54, Chapter 55, Chapter 56, Chapter 57, Chapter 58, Chapter 59, Chapter 60, Chapter 61, Chapter 62, Chapter 63, Chapter 64, Chapter 65, Chapter 66, Chapter 67, Chapter 68, Chapter 69, Chapter 70, Chapter 71, Chapter 72, Chapter 73
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
"While we are sleeping, two-thirds of the world is plotting to do us in." - Dean Rusk
Kyle was mid-bite when Yelina went to check her phone. He hadn't heard the thing ring or buzz, indicating that she had a phone call, voice mail, or text, but she must have been getting one of the three; at that moment, she looked up apologetically from her lap. "I'm sorry," she explained. "I have to look at this."
To be honest, Kyle didn't see any need for an apology or explanation. At that particular instant, what he really needed and wanted was space anyway, so what did he care if she were to take a call?
But then, as if the universe had decided to answer that rhetorical question, he realized that he should have cared. Because the second she looked up, she said, "We need to go."
"Why?"
She hesitated for a brief moment before saying, "That was your father. He wants you back at the -"
"I'm not going," Kyle interrupted with as much firmness as he could muster in his tone.
Yelina calmly dabbed at her lips with a napkin. "I would like to make things as easy as possible for you. But I have to take you back at some point."
"Why?"
He knew he sounded like an angry five year old, but frankly, he was tired of all these decisions being made for him. It was making him feel as though he were little more than private property in all of this; not an actual human being but something akin to a sack of potatoes, he was being treated as though he had no feelings, no emotions, and certainly no rights when it came to how his life should be lived. From living with Horatio to what grade Kyle would be in to where he would do his community service - those had all been decisions originating with someone else.
With someone who didn't know him at all.
And if he sounded like a child because of that, he really didn't give a shit.
"Suffice it to say," she said, interrupting his turbulent thoughts. "I would rather avoid being charged with kidnapping."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "It's not kidnapping if I'm interested in being 'napped."
"Yes, it is," she insisted. "If your father wants you to be in a certain place and I prevent that from happening, it really doesn't matter what you want."
"Of course not," he muttered. Of course it wouldn't matter what he wanted; in this situation, had it ever?
"I mean in the eyes of the law."
He tossed his napkin onto his plate as Yelina reached into her purse for her wallet. "Then the law can suck my -"
"I understand that you don't want to go back, but at some point, you're going to have to," she told him firmly, as though there were no debating what she was saying. "And when you do, you're not going to be able to avoid talking to your father about -"
"You'd be surprised what I know how to avoid," he muttered bitterly.
Yelina handed her credit card to the waiter who was pretending not to listen to the conversation but clearly was. Only when the douche bag had left did she respond, "Your ability to avoid conversations with your father hardly constitutes as something shocking. Quite frankly, I would only be surprised if you took the time to talk to Horatio about what is bothering you," she told him honestly.
She was so smooth that he almost didn't realize what she was trying to do. But the fact of the matter was that, luckily for him, he hadn't just entered the game; he'd been around the block enough times, entered enough rounds, to know when he was being terribly challenged.
"Nice try," he said in a tone as equally bored as hers had been. "But if you're going to manipulate me, you're going to need to step up your game."
"I'm not trying to -"
"Yeah, you were," he insisted, refusing to get up as she was doing. The bill paid, Nosey McBitch Ass gone from their table - it was very clearly time to leave.
But Kyle wasn't going to be going anywhere.
Not with her.
Not when it meant going to him.
And if avoiding Horatio meant sitting here like a jackass, Kyle was more than willing to do just that.
His voice as unyielding as his mind, he said, "So if you're hoping to trick me into joining you, you're going to have to try harder."
Yelina sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "What's it going to take then?"
"Excuse me?" He looked at her as though she had lost her mind.
"I figure that there is something I can do or say to get you back into my car and to your father," she said. "If you had planned on running away for good, you wouldn't have gone to places you're familiar -"
"How do you know they're familiar?" he challenged.
Reluctantly, Yelina sat back down; perhaps she realized that this wasn't going to be a quick conversation. Or maybe she just didn't want anyone to hear what she was about to say, but either way…
It was keeping them from meeting up with Horatio.
"The day we met, I was following you," she pointed out in a casual voice. "I know where you like to go, and -"
"And what else do you know?" At that point, he was more curious than concerned, but he knew that could change depending on her answer.
She shrugged. "I did the research," she explained. "I didn't just follow you blindly; I found every scrap of paper I could on you." Looking at him seriously, Yelina added slowly, "I won't pretend that I know everything about you. I don't. But there's very little that has been documented about you that I don't know."
Immediately, there was a vague sense that his privacy had been violated. There was outrage but a subdued outrage; it was hard to know how angry he should be or what he should be angry about. Because, okay, Yelina was saying that she knew what had been documented about him, but there was no way for him to know exactly what that meant. Things could be on paper and not mean anything; she might know when his first doctor's visit in life was. But that didn't mean squat, so it really just depended on how good a detective she was.
And if that was what everything hinged on, frankly, Kyle didn't like his odds. Because as little as he knew Yelina, he did know that she wasn't an idiot. Actually, she was pretty smart, intuitive - more so - okay, way more so than Horatio was. So if everything depended on how intelligent and resourceful she was, Kyle had the sneaking suspicion that he was screwed.
And that putting everything suddenly into perspective, he knew then precisely what he wanted.
"I want to see what you have on me. Now."
She hesitated, and that made him add threateningly, "Or I'm not going anywhere with you."
Yelina rolled her eyes and looked away. "Most of the materials I collected, I've either destroyed or gave them to your father to -"
"Then you'll just have to collect them again, won't you?" He wasn't going to budge on this; he needed to know what everyone else seemed to know about him.
"That'll take time."
Instantly, he capitulated, "Fine. I can wait. But if I do, then I want something else from you too."
She clearly bristled at the request, as though she was offended by the idea of him demanding things from her. So it came as no surprise that she had to ask him what he wanted through gritted teeth. "And what would that be?"
"I want info."
"About what exactly?" she asked in a way that told him she really didn't want to know the answer.
"My father."
*******************
His mother had left earlier in the day with the parting words that his grandmother would be there later to make him breakfast. The younger of the two old bats had said that if he'd wanted to break her fascist rules (okay, that hadn't been her exact words, but Ray Junior was willing to take artistic liberties), he should leave then.
But Ray hadn't.
At the time, he hadn't thought he'd needed to. He'd thought that this mother wouldn't actually bring her own mother into this mess just to see if he would run away. He knew his mom well enough to know that she wasn't exactly a fan of her mother (apparently, that gene ran in the family), and she wouldn't want the old bag to get involved if all his mom wanted to do was to test him, to see what he would do when he was finally alone.
Apparently, he'd been wrong about that.
His mother was, he supposed, not above bringing in her own mortal enemy to see this pathetic attempt at a punishment through. Indeed, twenty minutes after his mother had left, his grandmother had shown up.
He really hadn't anticipated that.
And though part of him had supposed and still supposed he could just slip out a window and make a break for it, the rest of him knew that he would never get away with it. His mom would eventually find out, and when she did, he would be in even more trouble than he already was. Which he didn't really care about in and of itself; incurring his mother's wrath was as normal for him as breathing was. But in this case, it was clear that she was hoping he would break the rules.
Yup, his own mother was trying to get him in more trouble.
Ray Junior had no idea why she would do that. He hadn't been smoking what she was clearly smoking, so he couldn't really say. But he knew that she hadn't openly offered the info about his grandmother coming over out of kindness; his mother had had a reason, and that made him cautious.
That made him realize that he needed to play this one safe.
Oh, he totally planned on busting out of the joint. He wasn't going to stay here, even if his mother expected him to leave. Because even if it played into her scheme, leaving was the only thing he could do; he'd promised Todd to come over long before this crap had gone down, and Ray wasn't going to break his promise.
Nor was he going to get into trouble for it either.
The second his grandmother had shown up, he had known he would need to be smart about it. He would need to play his cards carefully.
He would need a plan.
As his grandmother sought out to make breakfast, a litany of insults and condemnations being spewed in Spanish as she beat eggs together, he found an opening. Or rather, he found an opening for an opening. Because it was then, while her back was to him, that he realized how easy it would be to get away.
If he were to drug her.
His mother had some over the counter sleep aids in the medicine cabinet, remnants from when his father had died… for real. And Ray had access to them, right? So if he were to, say, accidentally dump one or two in his grandmother's glass of orange juice, that would be cool…
Right?
No, he thought miserably. No, that wouldn't be cool. And it wouldn't work. Knowing his luck, his mother would come home before his grandmother passed out. Or his grandmother would have a bad reaction and die or something…
And granted, Ray wasn't opposed to the evil woman dying, but he doubted it would help his cause if he were to kill someone - even if it were accidentally.
So he could only play along and listen to his grandmother continue to lecture him. Miserably eating an overcooked omelet, he only spoke up when his grandmother had asked him if he'd learned his lesson. "Si."
And he had.
As the rest of the day passed, his grandmother continuing to give him the side eye as lunch finished, he said it to himself over and over:
From now on, he would never ever assume that his mother was bluffing.
Go to the next chapter
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yelina Salas, Horatio Caine, the whole Caine family
Author's Note: WARNING: SPOILER FOR SEASON 6.
Summary: Almost two decades ago, Horatio made a decision that would change his family forever. Will they ever forgive him? Will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? This is an alternative to the beginning of season 6. A Horatio and Kyle story; H/Y romance in the future.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35, Chapter 36, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 44, Chapter 45, Chapter 46, Chapter 47, Chapter 48, Chapter 49, Chapter 50, Chapter 51, Chapter 52, Chapter 53, Chapter 54, Chapter 55, Chapter 56, Chapter 57, Chapter 58, Chapter 59, Chapter 60, Chapter 61, Chapter 62, Chapter 63, Chapter 64, Chapter 65, Chapter 66, Chapter 67, Chapter 68, Chapter 69, Chapter 70, Chapter 71, Chapter 72, Chapter 73
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
"While we are sleeping, two-thirds of the world is plotting to do us in." - Dean Rusk
Kyle was mid-bite when Yelina went to check her phone. He hadn't heard the thing ring or buzz, indicating that she had a phone call, voice mail, or text, but she must have been getting one of the three; at that moment, she looked up apologetically from her lap. "I'm sorry," she explained. "I have to look at this."
To be honest, Kyle didn't see any need for an apology or explanation. At that particular instant, what he really needed and wanted was space anyway, so what did he care if she were to take a call?
But then, as if the universe had decided to answer that rhetorical question, he realized that he should have cared. Because the second she looked up, she said, "We need to go."
"Why?"
She hesitated for a brief moment before saying, "That was your father. He wants you back at the -"
"I'm not going," Kyle interrupted with as much firmness as he could muster in his tone.
Yelina calmly dabbed at her lips with a napkin. "I would like to make things as easy as possible for you. But I have to take you back at some point."
"Why?"
He knew he sounded like an angry five year old, but frankly, he was tired of all these decisions being made for him. It was making him feel as though he were little more than private property in all of this; not an actual human being but something akin to a sack of potatoes, he was being treated as though he had no feelings, no emotions, and certainly no rights when it came to how his life should be lived. From living with Horatio to what grade Kyle would be in to where he would do his community service - those had all been decisions originating with someone else.
With someone who didn't know him at all.
And if he sounded like a child because of that, he really didn't give a shit.
"Suffice it to say," she said, interrupting his turbulent thoughts. "I would rather avoid being charged with kidnapping."
Kyle rolled his eyes. "It's not kidnapping if I'm interested in being 'napped."
"Yes, it is," she insisted. "If your father wants you to be in a certain place and I prevent that from happening, it really doesn't matter what you want."
"Of course not," he muttered. Of course it wouldn't matter what he wanted; in this situation, had it ever?
"I mean in the eyes of the law."
He tossed his napkin onto his plate as Yelina reached into her purse for her wallet. "Then the law can suck my -"
"I understand that you don't want to go back, but at some point, you're going to have to," she told him firmly, as though there were no debating what she was saying. "And when you do, you're not going to be able to avoid talking to your father about -"
"You'd be surprised what I know how to avoid," he muttered bitterly.
Yelina handed her credit card to the waiter who was pretending not to listen to the conversation but clearly was. Only when the douche bag had left did she respond, "Your ability to avoid conversations with your father hardly constitutes as something shocking. Quite frankly, I would only be surprised if you took the time to talk to Horatio about what is bothering you," she told him honestly.
She was so smooth that he almost didn't realize what she was trying to do. But the fact of the matter was that, luckily for him, he hadn't just entered the game; he'd been around the block enough times, entered enough rounds, to know when he was being terribly challenged.
"Nice try," he said in a tone as equally bored as hers had been. "But if you're going to manipulate me, you're going to need to step up your game."
"I'm not trying to -"
"Yeah, you were," he insisted, refusing to get up as she was doing. The bill paid, Nosey McBitch Ass gone from their table - it was very clearly time to leave.
But Kyle wasn't going to be going anywhere.
Not with her.
Not when it meant going to him.
And if avoiding Horatio meant sitting here like a jackass, Kyle was more than willing to do just that.
His voice as unyielding as his mind, he said, "So if you're hoping to trick me into joining you, you're going to have to try harder."
Yelina sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "What's it going to take then?"
"Excuse me?" He looked at her as though she had lost her mind.
"I figure that there is something I can do or say to get you back into my car and to your father," she said. "If you had planned on running away for good, you wouldn't have gone to places you're familiar -"
"How do you know they're familiar?" he challenged.
Reluctantly, Yelina sat back down; perhaps she realized that this wasn't going to be a quick conversation. Or maybe she just didn't want anyone to hear what she was about to say, but either way…
It was keeping them from meeting up with Horatio.
"The day we met, I was following you," she pointed out in a casual voice. "I know where you like to go, and -"
"And what else do you know?" At that point, he was more curious than concerned, but he knew that could change depending on her answer.
She shrugged. "I did the research," she explained. "I didn't just follow you blindly; I found every scrap of paper I could on you." Looking at him seriously, Yelina added slowly, "I won't pretend that I know everything about you. I don't. But there's very little that has been documented about you that I don't know."
Immediately, there was a vague sense that his privacy had been violated. There was outrage but a subdued outrage; it was hard to know how angry he should be or what he should be angry about. Because, okay, Yelina was saying that she knew what had been documented about him, but there was no way for him to know exactly what that meant. Things could be on paper and not mean anything; she might know when his first doctor's visit in life was. But that didn't mean squat, so it really just depended on how good a detective she was.
And if that was what everything hinged on, frankly, Kyle didn't like his odds. Because as little as he knew Yelina, he did know that she wasn't an idiot. Actually, she was pretty smart, intuitive - more so - okay, way more so than Horatio was. So if everything depended on how intelligent and resourceful she was, Kyle had the sneaking suspicion that he was screwed.
And that putting everything suddenly into perspective, he knew then precisely what he wanted.
"I want to see what you have on me. Now."
She hesitated, and that made him add threateningly, "Or I'm not going anywhere with you."
Yelina rolled her eyes and looked away. "Most of the materials I collected, I've either destroyed or gave them to your father to -"
"Then you'll just have to collect them again, won't you?" He wasn't going to budge on this; he needed to know what everyone else seemed to know about him.
"That'll take time."
Instantly, he capitulated, "Fine. I can wait. But if I do, then I want something else from you too."
She clearly bristled at the request, as though she was offended by the idea of him demanding things from her. So it came as no surprise that she had to ask him what he wanted through gritted teeth. "And what would that be?"
"I want info."
"About what exactly?" she asked in a way that told him she really didn't want to know the answer.
"My father."
*******************
His mother had left earlier in the day with the parting words that his grandmother would be there later to make him breakfast. The younger of the two old bats had said that if he'd wanted to break her fascist rules (okay, that hadn't been her exact words, but Ray Junior was willing to take artistic liberties), he should leave then.
But Ray hadn't.
At the time, he hadn't thought he'd needed to. He'd thought that this mother wouldn't actually bring her own mother into this mess just to see if he would run away. He knew his mom well enough to know that she wasn't exactly a fan of her mother (apparently, that gene ran in the family), and she wouldn't want the old bag to get involved if all his mom wanted to do was to test him, to see what he would do when he was finally alone.
Apparently, he'd been wrong about that.
His mother was, he supposed, not above bringing in her own mortal enemy to see this pathetic attempt at a punishment through. Indeed, twenty minutes after his mother had left, his grandmother had shown up.
He really hadn't anticipated that.
And though part of him had supposed and still supposed he could just slip out a window and make a break for it, the rest of him knew that he would never get away with it. His mom would eventually find out, and when she did, he would be in even more trouble than he already was. Which he didn't really care about in and of itself; incurring his mother's wrath was as normal for him as breathing was. But in this case, it was clear that she was hoping he would break the rules.
Yup, his own mother was trying to get him in more trouble.
Ray Junior had no idea why she would do that. He hadn't been smoking what she was clearly smoking, so he couldn't really say. But he knew that she hadn't openly offered the info about his grandmother coming over out of kindness; his mother had had a reason, and that made him cautious.
That made him realize that he needed to play this one safe.
Oh, he totally planned on busting out of the joint. He wasn't going to stay here, even if his mother expected him to leave. Because even if it played into her scheme, leaving was the only thing he could do; he'd promised Todd to come over long before this crap had gone down, and Ray wasn't going to break his promise.
Nor was he going to get into trouble for it either.
The second his grandmother had shown up, he had known he would need to be smart about it. He would need to play his cards carefully.
He would need a plan.
As his grandmother sought out to make breakfast, a litany of insults and condemnations being spewed in Spanish as she beat eggs together, he found an opening. Or rather, he found an opening for an opening. Because it was then, while her back was to him, that he realized how easy it would be to get away.
If he were to drug her.
His mother had some over the counter sleep aids in the medicine cabinet, remnants from when his father had died… for real. And Ray had access to them, right? So if he were to, say, accidentally dump one or two in his grandmother's glass of orange juice, that would be cool…
Right?
No, he thought miserably. No, that wouldn't be cool. And it wouldn't work. Knowing his luck, his mother would come home before his grandmother passed out. Or his grandmother would have a bad reaction and die or something…
And granted, Ray wasn't opposed to the evil woman dying, but he doubted it would help his cause if he were to kill someone - even if it were accidentally.
So he could only play along and listen to his grandmother continue to lecture him. Miserably eating an overcooked omelet, he only spoke up when his grandmother had asked him if he'd learned his lesson. "Si."
And he had.
As the rest of the day passed, his grandmother continuing to give him the side eye as lunch finished, he said it to himself over and over:
From now on, he would never ever assume that his mother was bluffing.
Go to the next chapter