Chaptered Fic: No Other One, Chapter 11
Title: No Other One, Chapter 11
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. fulfills
alphabetasoup prompt, K is for Kali, and
fanfic100 prompt #071, broken.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, and Chapter 10.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show. Of course... If I did, I wouldn't admit to it because the actual show pretty much blows these days.
No Other One
Chapter Eleven: Dead Ends
By Duckie Nicks
“Modern man likes to pretend that his thinking is wide-awake. But this wide-awake thinking has led us into the mazes of a nightmare in which the torture chambers are endlessly repeated in the mirrors of reason.” - Octavio Paz
Kyle truly was his progeny, and in this, this was a way Horatio had never wanted the boy to resemble him. But there it was on the police report - something that connected the two.
And it was no surprise why Yelina hadn’t been able to tell him the truth. Because as meddlesome as Horatio could be, even he could understand her reluctance.
He sighed, unable to stop himself from reading every horrific detail. In inappropriately neat type font, the page told him everything. At age six, Kyle had been found with bloody hands by a neighbor. The boy’s mother, Julia, had been murdered - stabbed to death - by her husband, Tom Harmon.
The redhead closed his eyes, could picture the woman he had slept with in his mind. But now, the image was different, had drastically changed. The sensual memory of her hands was replaced with something gorier. He could no longer remember how she had felt moving against him; Horatio could no longer concentrate on the sounds she had made.
Because now everything was tainted with the image of her being bludgeoned to death.
Flipping through the packet of information, Horatio was grateful that there were no crime scene photos. But he didn’t need them. What he couldn’t see for himself was easily created in his own mind. Other memories of bloody crime scenes pieced themselves together until they overlaid the memory of Julia with him; the last moment he had spent with his mother now mingling with this woman, until he could no longer tell the difference between them.
Until he could almost feel the knife in his hands, as though he himself had killed her. The blade easily slipping through her olive skin, blood poured onto his hands. There was no masked criminal in his mind - just him and the knife and her. And Horatio felt as though he couldn’t breathe
He was awake, but he could only see her. Could only picture this nightmare, this unwanted reality. His breath coming in short spurts, he couldn’t tear himself away from the gory images. Because he’d seen death, knew exactly what it was like to see someone take their last breath, but this was different.
This was his son’s mother.
And it no longer surprised him that Kyle should turn out the way he had. The boy had experienced at age six what Horatio had barely been able to recover from at eighteen.
And it no longer mattered who actually killed her, because the redhead knew that this was his fault. If he had kept in touch with her or… something, then maybe she wouldn’t have married a murderer. If they hadn’t parted ways after a single night together, then perhaps Horatio could have protected her and… their son.
Or maybe not because… the redhead’s presence hadn’t spared his own mother.
He was so useless. So pathetic in his inability to protect the people who mattered most, he chided, and the police report in his hands became all but forgotten.
And in his despair, he failed to notice the subtle movement of the couch, didn’t feel the way the sofa shifted. The tiny clink of a coffee cup being set down on the glass coffee table in front of him only dimly registered in his mind.
“Horatio?” But he did not respond to the voice, so sure he was that it was nothing more than an imagined whisper.
Only when her hand lightly touched his did he turn to look at her. Yelina’s warm fingers softly stroked the rough skin over his knuckles briefly before pulling away.
“Your coffee,” she said, gesturing to the hot liquid in front of him.
He nodded his head in thanks, grateful that she did not ask him if he was okay. Unlike him, the brunette was much better at… respecting his privacy.
And they fell into silence then, Yelina occasionally sipping her coffee and Horatio trying to pull himself together.
The redhead set the report in his hands next to him, back onto the stack of other papers. He needed to not think about that right now, needed to get it together because Horatio would not - would not - dwell on any of it with company. Yelina might have been more understanding than most, but that didn’t mean he wanted to… open this can of worms.
He imagined himself then pushing the unwanted thoughts into the back of his mind. Forcing them from the forefront of his brain, locking the images in a fictitious vault for him to open later.
Finally, Horatio asked, the words pinched and awkward, “So the boy was placed in foster care…”
She eyed him carefully but at least played along. “Uh, yeah.” And then as an afterthought, “he didn’t speak for over a year afterwards.”
Silence fell between the two once more. And Horatio couldn’t help but think of the teenager from earlier in the day. So much had changed it seemed, because the redhead could hardly imagine the very same kid ever being mute.
“What changed?” he finally asked.
Yelina set her red mug down on the coffee table and turned towards him. “I don’t really know. When Kyle was placed in his second foster home, he seemed to thrive there - according to the reports at least.” She tucked a stray curl behind one of her ears. “But then the foster family moved without him. And…” The brunette shrugged. “He’s bounced from homes since then.”
Taking a sip of his black coffee, Horatio let her words sink in. So his son had been abandoned… and tossed from home to home without any thought. His child had become one of those children who became almost invisible, lost in the system that they had so unfairly been placed in. And the redhead knew, even without talking to the boy, that this would make things all the more difficult.
How could he hope to convince Kyle that he was his father when the teen’s background was this? How would Horatio ever be able to undo all those years of pain and abandonment?
Maybe someone else could, he admitted. But certainly not him.
The redhead could barely manage the family he had, and there had always been at least some semblance of normalcy there.
Not to mention they had some reason to trust him, believe in him, where as Kyle… had only confrontation with the lieutenant.
“All right,” Horatio said, half-heartedly. This was a disaster, through and through, he told himself. Because even with all this other information Yelina could tell him… already the father could see that the deck was stacked against him.
There was no brilliant revelation, no chink in Kyle’s armor that Horatio could use to his advantage. There seemed to only be betrayal and distrust an impermanence, and what could he could do with that?
He sipped his coffee once more, the answer eluding him.
What could he do with that?
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. fulfills
alphabetasoup prompt, K is for Kali, and
fanfic100 prompt #071, broken.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, and Chapter 10.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show. Of course... If I did, I wouldn't admit to it because the actual show pretty much blows these days.
No Other One
Chapter Eleven: Dead Ends
By Duckie Nicks
“Modern man likes to pretend that his thinking is wide-awake. But this wide-awake thinking has led us into the mazes of a nightmare in which the torture chambers are endlessly repeated in the mirrors of reason.” - Octavio Paz
Kyle truly was his progeny, and in this, this was a way Horatio had never wanted the boy to resemble him. But there it was on the police report - something that connected the two.
And it was no surprise why Yelina hadn’t been able to tell him the truth. Because as meddlesome as Horatio could be, even he could understand her reluctance.
He sighed, unable to stop himself from reading every horrific detail. In inappropriately neat type font, the page told him everything. At age six, Kyle had been found with bloody hands by a neighbor. The boy’s mother, Julia, had been murdered - stabbed to death - by her husband, Tom Harmon.
The redhead closed his eyes, could picture the woman he had slept with in his mind. But now, the image was different, had drastically changed. The sensual memory of her hands was replaced with something gorier. He could no longer remember how she had felt moving against him; Horatio could no longer concentrate on the sounds she had made.
Because now everything was tainted with the image of her being bludgeoned to death.
Flipping through the packet of information, Horatio was grateful that there were no crime scene photos. But he didn’t need them. What he couldn’t see for himself was easily created in his own mind. Other memories of bloody crime scenes pieced themselves together until they overlaid the memory of Julia with him; the last moment he had spent with his mother now mingling with this woman, until he could no longer tell the difference between them.
Until he could almost feel the knife in his hands, as though he himself had killed her. The blade easily slipping through her olive skin, blood poured onto his hands. There was no masked criminal in his mind - just him and the knife and her. And Horatio felt as though he couldn’t breathe
He was awake, but he could only see her. Could only picture this nightmare, this unwanted reality. His breath coming in short spurts, he couldn’t tear himself away from the gory images. Because he’d seen death, knew exactly what it was like to see someone take their last breath, but this was different.
This was his son’s mother.
And it no longer surprised him that Kyle should turn out the way he had. The boy had experienced at age six what Horatio had barely been able to recover from at eighteen.
And it no longer mattered who actually killed her, because the redhead knew that this was his fault. If he had kept in touch with her or… something, then maybe she wouldn’t have married a murderer. If they hadn’t parted ways after a single night together, then perhaps Horatio could have protected her and… their son.
Or maybe not because… the redhead’s presence hadn’t spared his own mother.
He was so useless. So pathetic in his inability to protect the people who mattered most, he chided, and the police report in his hands became all but forgotten.
And in his despair, he failed to notice the subtle movement of the couch, didn’t feel the way the sofa shifted. The tiny clink of a coffee cup being set down on the glass coffee table in front of him only dimly registered in his mind.
“Horatio?” But he did not respond to the voice, so sure he was that it was nothing more than an imagined whisper.
Only when her hand lightly touched his did he turn to look at her. Yelina’s warm fingers softly stroked the rough skin over his knuckles briefly before pulling away.
“Your coffee,” she said, gesturing to the hot liquid in front of him.
He nodded his head in thanks, grateful that she did not ask him if he was okay. Unlike him, the brunette was much better at… respecting his privacy.
And they fell into silence then, Yelina occasionally sipping her coffee and Horatio trying to pull himself together.
The redhead set the report in his hands next to him, back onto the stack of other papers. He needed to not think about that right now, needed to get it together because Horatio would not - would not - dwell on any of it with company. Yelina might have been more understanding than most, but that didn’t mean he wanted to… open this can of worms.
He imagined himself then pushing the unwanted thoughts into the back of his mind. Forcing them from the forefront of his brain, locking the images in a fictitious vault for him to open later.
Finally, Horatio asked, the words pinched and awkward, “So the boy was placed in foster care…”
She eyed him carefully but at least played along. “Uh, yeah.” And then as an afterthought, “he didn’t speak for over a year afterwards.”
Silence fell between the two once more. And Horatio couldn’t help but think of the teenager from earlier in the day. So much had changed it seemed, because the redhead could hardly imagine the very same kid ever being mute.
“What changed?” he finally asked.
Yelina set her red mug down on the coffee table and turned towards him. “I don’t really know. When Kyle was placed in his second foster home, he seemed to thrive there - according to the reports at least.” She tucked a stray curl behind one of her ears. “But then the foster family moved without him. And…” The brunette shrugged. “He’s bounced from homes since then.”
Taking a sip of his black coffee, Horatio let her words sink in. So his son had been abandoned… and tossed from home to home without any thought. His child had become one of those children who became almost invisible, lost in the system that they had so unfairly been placed in. And the redhead knew, even without talking to the boy, that this would make things all the more difficult.
How could he hope to convince Kyle that he was his father when the teen’s background was this? How would Horatio ever be able to undo all those years of pain and abandonment?
Maybe someone else could, he admitted. But certainly not him.
The redhead could barely manage the family he had, and there had always been at least some semblance of normalcy there.
Not to mention they had some reason to trust him, believe in him, where as Kyle… had only confrontation with the lieutenant.
“All right,” Horatio said, half-heartedly. This was a disaster, through and through, he told himself. Because even with all this other information Yelina could tell him… already the father could see that the deck was stacked against him.
There was no brilliant revelation, no chink in Kyle’s armor that Horatio could use to his advantage. There seemed to only be betrayal and distrust an impermanence, and what could he could do with that?
He sipped his coffee once more, the answer eluding him.
What could he do with that?
Go to the next Chapter