Chaptered Fic: No Other One, Chapter 2
Title: No Other One, Chapter 2
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 be able to get past it? And will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? Spoiler for season 6. HY romance in the future.
I don't own it. Don't sue.
Previous Chapters: The Prologue, Chapter 1
No Other One
Chapter 2: Prisoner’s Dilemma
By Duckie Nicks
“I daresay one profits more by the mistakes one makes off one’s own bat than by doing the right thing on somebody else’s advice.” - W. Somerset Maugham
He felt nervous, unreasonably so, but Kyle was determined not to give into the feeling. His feet tapped rhythmically against the floor. One of his thin hands clutched onto the soda can someone had brought him. The other nervously ran through his dirty-blond hair.
This wasn’t his first interrogation - he thought he shouldn’t be so… whatever - but here he was with a stomach full of butterflies. Maybe it was because of his damn face that he felt that way. It had stopped bleeding, but it hurt like hell, and all he wanted to do was wash off the uncomfortable mess.
Yes, that was the problem, Kyle thought. He wasn’t wimping out -- it was just his face. Although part of him had to admit that this was the first really truly bad thing he’d done. And he’d been uncomfortable with the kidnapping from the start, but he hadn’t realized just how horrible a thing it really actually was.
It didn’t even feel like it was happening to him. It definitely didn’t feel like something that had begun only a week ago. Or maybe it started a little earlier than that. After all, if he hadn’t been caught screwing the foster family’s daughter, none of this would be happening.
The funny part of it all was that he didn’t even like her. She was a twat if he ever saw one. But she was hot and manipulative and had done everything in her power to seduce him. And the whole deal had been doable, no pun intended, until one of the newer foster kids had caught them.
Well, the culprit wasn’t a kid. He was probably fifteen, and Kyle still hadn’t caught the newcomer’s name even though they’d been sharing a house for a month. Not that he even really wanted to know. The teenager was weird, Kyle thought, and so the blond-haired boy had made a point to stay away from him.
Sitting in an interrogation room now, he wished he’d been able to stick to that point.
But obviously that hadn’t happened, and when they got caught, Psycho-Freakboy, as Kyle had come to call him, had wanted them to buy his silence. And as always, it was him, not her, who had to pay the price for that.
Kyle, remembering the conversation he’d had with her later, shifted in the metal chair.
“You gonna do it, baby?” she’d asked him. He’d recognized the forced sad look on her face. It had been so clear to him then that she wanted him to cave. Because then it meant their secret could be safe, and the foster fam would never find out. And that meant he could stay by her side for her use whenever she wanted.
It had been something Kyle wasn’t exactly keen about. She’d seen his hesitation though and got up off the bed, moved closer to him. She had rubbed his cheek with a softness he rarely associated with the blonde teen.
“If you don’t,” she’d told him, her voice almost sickeningly sweet, “he’ll tell Daddy. And what do you think he’s going to do when he learns you’ve deflowered me?”
Kyle had rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like I’m the first one -“
Her expression had hardened, as had her voice, and she’d said, “He’d never believe I came onto you. No one will. And if he doesn’t straight up kill you, you’ll be thrown out of here. I’m sure your parole officer will love that.”
She’d hit his weak spot then, Kyle thought drinking the rest of his coke. It wasn’t that he really liked living there. But it had been the first foster family with any degree of normalcy. Well… normal if you didn’t include the horny daughter he was messing with and Psycho-Freakboy with his rape/kidnapping fantasies. And so... he’d agreed.
It was almost amusing, he thought, that only now did he really think about the consequences. He wasn’t even sure what the cops had on him, but his rap sheet sort of spoke for itself, and Kyle definitely thought he saw jail at the end of this for him. All to protect something he didn’t even really like.
But his thoughts were interrupted as Lieutenant Caine (Kyle had picked the name up from the pieces of conversation he’d heard while being shoved into the cop car) entered the dimly lit room.
The blonde tried to quickly assess the redhead. What did this guy want to hear? The man, sunglasses dangling precariously in one hand, a file in the other, took a seat. And they both looked each other over for a few minutes, but Kyle still didn’t know what to say.
“Let me tell you what I know,” the cop offered. “Four days ago, a woman, last name Gannon, went missing from her house. This would be roughly the same time you had your ankle monitoring device removed -“
“The court said I could, Old Man,” Kyle said, his voice braver than he felt.
The cop leaned back in his chair, nodding his head. “True.” He cocked his head and slid his sunglasses on, even though the teenager hardly thought it was necessary. “I’m trying to establish what we call a timeline.”
Was he supposed to clap? Kyle wondered.
But the redhead continued, “With the ankle monitoring device, you could kidnap a woman virtually undetected though, couldn’t you?”
The teenager scoffed at the thought. “Yeah, and I also could have flown to Tijuana and picked up a bunch of prostitutes. Doesn’t mean I did.”
“Also true, but…” The cop seemed to draw this out as long as possible before continuing, “No one reports seeing you in Tijuana, where as I have two neighbors saying they saw you skulking around the Gannon residence.”
Kyle didn’t doubt that that much to be true. He had experience breaking the law, yeah, but he wasn’t James Bond or anything. And… maybe part of him really had wanted to get caught before the whole thing went down. He shifted in his seat again. “You’re arresting me because I happened to walk by a house?”
“Of course not,” the man said, smiling. But Kyle didn’t think there was anything remotely smile-worthy. “But I hired someone to keep track of you anyway.”
“Next time try not to hire someone who attracts so much attention.”
This seemed to throw the man off - just a little, which was fine by the teenager. “You noticed her then?” the cop asked rather stupidly.
“Yup. But don’t worry. I was the perfect gentleman,” Kyle said snidely. Watching the redhead intently, the blond could see his jaw twitch ever so slightly.
But if the man had any other thoughts on the matter, the teenager wasn’t privy to them as they got back to the kidnapping. “Really? That’s good because this morning we caught two teenagers trying to dump Mrs. Gannon into a dumpster.”
Fuckshitdamnfuck. They’d killed her. Perhaps sensing the boy’s panic, the cop replied, “She’s not dead. Close but she’ll live.”
“Good for her.”
“Unfortunately for you,” the redhead said, “both teens - I think you know them.” He’d stopped talking pulling two pictures out. “An Adam Jackson and Deana Burton.”
Kyle frowned looking at their mug shots. “Yeah, I know them.” So Psycho-Freakboy and the whole reason this mess had happened to him had turned him in. Well if that didn’t get all…
Unless they hadn’t told, he thought. True, he was two years behind in school now, thanks to truancy, juvy, and bad grades, but Kyle had heard of cops lying to get confessions; he’d watched “Law and Order” enough to know that. Perhaps they hadn’t said anything?
“Good,” Lieutenant Caine said brightly. “Because they’re saying this was all your plan.” The teenager merely shrugged. “You wouldn’t know anything about that?”
“No.” It was a lie.
“Okay, well, let me tell you what’s going to happen. Right now, my team is testing your DNA against every sample they collected from the scene,” he explained. “I only need one match to prove you were there. And when that happens, you won’t be going back to juvy. You understand?”
Kyle shrugged.
The redhead leaned forward. “So if there’s something you want to tell me, you’d better start talking now.”
But the teenager was unsure of what to say. The truth was rarely if ever good enough, he’d learned that a long time ago. And so he could only shrug again and say, “There’s not.”
The lieutenant left, and Kyle was all alone. And he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just permanently destroyed his life. Ruined all chances of a future before he’d ever even had a chance to prove himself to anyone.
Go to 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 be able to get past it? And will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? Spoiler for season 6. HY romance in the future.
I don't own it. Don't sue.
Previous Chapters: The Prologue, Chapter 1
No Other One
Chapter 2: Prisoner’s Dilemma
By Duckie Nicks
“I daresay one profits more by the mistakes one makes off one’s own bat than by doing the right thing on somebody else’s advice.” - W. Somerset Maugham
He felt nervous, unreasonably so, but Kyle was determined not to give into the feeling. His feet tapped rhythmically against the floor. One of his thin hands clutched onto the soda can someone had brought him. The other nervously ran through his dirty-blond hair.
This wasn’t his first interrogation - he thought he shouldn’t be so… whatever - but here he was with a stomach full of butterflies. Maybe it was because of his damn face that he felt that way. It had stopped bleeding, but it hurt like hell, and all he wanted to do was wash off the uncomfortable mess.
Yes, that was the problem, Kyle thought. He wasn’t wimping out -- it was just his face. Although part of him had to admit that this was the first really truly bad thing he’d done. And he’d been uncomfortable with the kidnapping from the start, but he hadn’t realized just how horrible a thing it really actually was.
It didn’t even feel like it was happening to him. It definitely didn’t feel like something that had begun only a week ago. Or maybe it started a little earlier than that. After all, if he hadn’t been caught screwing the foster family’s daughter, none of this would be happening.
The funny part of it all was that he didn’t even like her. She was a twat if he ever saw one. But she was hot and manipulative and had done everything in her power to seduce him. And the whole deal had been doable, no pun intended, until one of the newer foster kids had caught them.
Well, the culprit wasn’t a kid. He was probably fifteen, and Kyle still hadn’t caught the newcomer’s name even though they’d been sharing a house for a month. Not that he even really wanted to know. The teenager was weird, Kyle thought, and so the blond-haired boy had made a point to stay away from him.
Sitting in an interrogation room now, he wished he’d been able to stick to that point.
But obviously that hadn’t happened, and when they got caught, Psycho-Freakboy, as Kyle had come to call him, had wanted them to buy his silence. And as always, it was him, not her, who had to pay the price for that.
Kyle, remembering the conversation he’d had with her later, shifted in the metal chair.
“You gonna do it, baby?” she’d asked him. He’d recognized the forced sad look on her face. It had been so clear to him then that she wanted him to cave. Because then it meant their secret could be safe, and the foster fam would never find out. And that meant he could stay by her side for her use whenever she wanted.
It had been something Kyle wasn’t exactly keen about. She’d seen his hesitation though and got up off the bed, moved closer to him. She had rubbed his cheek with a softness he rarely associated with the blonde teen.
“If you don’t,” she’d told him, her voice almost sickeningly sweet, “he’ll tell Daddy. And what do you think he’s going to do when he learns you’ve deflowered me?”
Kyle had rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like I’m the first one -“
Her expression had hardened, as had her voice, and she’d said, “He’d never believe I came onto you. No one will. And if he doesn’t straight up kill you, you’ll be thrown out of here. I’m sure your parole officer will love that.”
She’d hit his weak spot then, Kyle thought drinking the rest of his coke. It wasn’t that he really liked living there. But it had been the first foster family with any degree of normalcy. Well… normal if you didn’t include the horny daughter he was messing with and Psycho-Freakboy with his rape/kidnapping fantasies. And so... he’d agreed.
It was almost amusing, he thought, that only now did he really think about the consequences. He wasn’t even sure what the cops had on him, but his rap sheet sort of spoke for itself, and Kyle definitely thought he saw jail at the end of this for him. All to protect something he didn’t even really like.
But his thoughts were interrupted as Lieutenant Caine (Kyle had picked the name up from the pieces of conversation he’d heard while being shoved into the cop car) entered the dimly lit room.
The blonde tried to quickly assess the redhead. What did this guy want to hear? The man, sunglasses dangling precariously in one hand, a file in the other, took a seat. And they both looked each other over for a few minutes, but Kyle still didn’t know what to say.
“Let me tell you what I know,” the cop offered. “Four days ago, a woman, last name Gannon, went missing from her house. This would be roughly the same time you had your ankle monitoring device removed -“
“The court said I could, Old Man,” Kyle said, his voice braver than he felt.
The cop leaned back in his chair, nodding his head. “True.” He cocked his head and slid his sunglasses on, even though the teenager hardly thought it was necessary. “I’m trying to establish what we call a timeline.”
Was he supposed to clap? Kyle wondered.
But the redhead continued, “With the ankle monitoring device, you could kidnap a woman virtually undetected though, couldn’t you?”
The teenager scoffed at the thought. “Yeah, and I also could have flown to Tijuana and picked up a bunch of prostitutes. Doesn’t mean I did.”
“Also true, but…” The cop seemed to draw this out as long as possible before continuing, “No one reports seeing you in Tijuana, where as I have two neighbors saying they saw you skulking around the Gannon residence.”
Kyle didn’t doubt that that much to be true. He had experience breaking the law, yeah, but he wasn’t James Bond or anything. And… maybe part of him really had wanted to get caught before the whole thing went down. He shifted in his seat again. “You’re arresting me because I happened to walk by a house?”
“Of course not,” the man said, smiling. But Kyle didn’t think there was anything remotely smile-worthy. “But I hired someone to keep track of you anyway.”
“Next time try not to hire someone who attracts so much attention.”
This seemed to throw the man off - just a little, which was fine by the teenager. “You noticed her then?” the cop asked rather stupidly.
“Yup. But don’t worry. I was the perfect gentleman,” Kyle said snidely. Watching the redhead intently, the blond could see his jaw twitch ever so slightly.
But if the man had any other thoughts on the matter, the teenager wasn’t privy to them as they got back to the kidnapping. “Really? That’s good because this morning we caught two teenagers trying to dump Mrs. Gannon into a dumpster.”
Fuckshitdamnfuck. They’d killed her. Perhaps sensing the boy’s panic, the cop replied, “She’s not dead. Close but she’ll live.”
“Good for her.”
“Unfortunately for you,” the redhead said, “both teens - I think you know them.” He’d stopped talking pulling two pictures out. “An Adam Jackson and Deana Burton.”
Kyle frowned looking at their mug shots. “Yeah, I know them.” So Psycho-Freakboy and the whole reason this mess had happened to him had turned him in. Well if that didn’t get all…
Unless they hadn’t told, he thought. True, he was two years behind in school now, thanks to truancy, juvy, and bad grades, but Kyle had heard of cops lying to get confessions; he’d watched “Law and Order” enough to know that. Perhaps they hadn’t said anything?
“Good,” Lieutenant Caine said brightly. “Because they’re saying this was all your plan.” The teenager merely shrugged. “You wouldn’t know anything about that?”
“No.” It was a lie.
“Okay, well, let me tell you what’s going to happen. Right now, my team is testing your DNA against every sample they collected from the scene,” he explained. “I only need one match to prove you were there. And when that happens, you won’t be going back to juvy. You understand?”
Kyle shrugged.
The redhead leaned forward. “So if there’s something you want to tell me, you’d better start talking now.”
But the teenager was unsure of what to say. The truth was rarely if ever good enough, he’d learned that a long time ago. And so he could only shrug again and say, “There’s not.”
The lieutenant left, and Kyle was all alone. And he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just permanently destroyed his life. Ruined all chances of a future before he’d ever even had a chance to prove himself to anyone.
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