No Other One, Chapter 16
Title: No Other One, Chapter 16
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, and Chapter 15.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show. Don't sue me.
No Other One
Chapter Sixteen: Of cell Phones and Cells
By Duckie Nicks
“The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.” - M. Scott Peck
By the time Horatio arrived at the condemned house, the sun had set completely. Looking down at the case file in his lap, the redhead double checked to see that this was the right address. Though it was hard to see in the dark, the lieutenant could make out the exterior of the rickety home, which had been turned into crummy apartments almost fifty years ago; the location matched Calleigh’s crime scene photos perfectly. He was at the right place.
CSI had collected samples from the area earlier that day, the redhead knew. It was the place that the other two teens had named in their interviews. This was where the Gannon woman had been kept during her kidnapping. And this would be where Horatio would start his own investigation - the first step to keeping Kyle out of jail.
Determined, the redhead opened his car door and hopped out of the Hummer. The night air was chilly, biting at his cheeks, forcing him to accept that these would be the last days of summer. He reached back into his car, grabbing his kit and taking out his flashlight.
But he didn’t get very far as a second hummer screeched up to the cracked sidewalk. It was too dark to see who was behind the wheel, the headlights blinding him. And Horatio’s hand didn’t hesitate to find his gun. The metal was cool against his rough fingertips, but he waited to see who would exit the car.
The lieutenant was only mildly surprised to see Calleigh step out of the car, her impractical heeled boots tapping against the pavement. Pushing her blonde hair out of her face, she asked, “What are you doing here, Horatio?” Her voice sounded exasperated but not suspicious or angry.
He tried to get a better look at her, tried to see her face, but it was too dark out. So he decided to play it safe and told her, “I want to make sure we didn’t miss something.”
Through the darkness, he could see her sway slightly in front of him. “You want someone to go over the scene again, then all right, but… you can’t do it. It’s against policy.”
Well that settled the matter; there was no way Calleigh didn’t know the truth now, he thought. “So the truth is out then,” he said.
“You think something as big as having a son would remain a secret? Horatio, the FBI couldn’t contain that.” There was no arguing that, the redhead knew. And considering he’d done nothing to hide the truth, it wasn’t totally surprising that someone had found out. Not when he’d paraded Kyle and the DNA test around earlier.
Still it hurt - just as the redhead knew it would - to have no one believe in him anymore. Before the blonde would have let him do nearly anything, would have followed him to the ends of the earth to help him accomplish his goal. She’d trusted him in a way that seemed almost… inappropriate for this profession, where you needed to be dispassionate and unaffected; they didn’t have the luxury to trust anyone unconditionally.
“I trust you,” Calleigh said seemingly aware of what he had been thinking. “I don’t honestly believe that you would plant evidence. But you can’t go in there alone. If you find evidence all by yourself, no state’s attorney is going to be able to use that.” From her pocket, she plucked her own miniature flashlight. “You need help.”
Her words filled him with relief, and it gave him some hope that maybe…maybe things wouldn’t have to change that much. But Horatio couldn’t help but ask her, “You don’t want to know -”
“No,” she said a little too quickly. Her words didn’t sound like a snap to him; there was no audible anger, but… it was clear that their friendship had changed. That as much as she might trust him, some part of her… didn’t.
And the redhead knew then that it had been foolish of him to believe things could remain the same. Because he hadn’t done something frivolous like steal something from her kit (a pet peeve Calleigh had acquired long before Speedle and cemented with his death). Having Kyle was bigger than that, whether he liked it or not.
She might be willing to help; they all might be willing to do their jobs still, but… the personal trust had been broken.
Maybe he could earn it back at some point, but in the meantime, there was nothing he could do about it. Right now at least, the situation was… what it was.
“You take the perimeter. I’ll take the inside,” she suggested, breaking the silence. “Holler if you find something, and I’ll bag it.”
Horatio watched, his eyes straining ever so slightly, as she headed inside, pushing the home’s battered door out of the way. He supposed that technically he had the right to insist on other arrangements; if he’d really wanted to, the redhead could have asked her to take the outside. But in all honesty, Horatio knew that he needed her help. And so he bowed his head and got to work.
The house-turned-apartment-complex was unremarkable in every way; the lieutenant doubted that anyone would have paid much attention to it, making it the perfect location to stash someone. Its yard clearly demonstrated the neglect of the property. The grass felt brittle underneath his feet, and looking down, Horatio could see that it was, in some parts, overgrown.
Lining the shabby home were several bushes. They too needed to be clipped, as a person could no longer tell where one plant ended and the other began. Not looking forward to wading through that, the redhead decided to save that part of the yard for last.
Starting at the edges of the yard, there wasn’t much evidence lying around. A few cigarette butts had been stamped out by the back door. For a moment, Horatio debated whether to collect it himself or wait for Calleigh. But thinking of Kyle who was probably sitting in a holding cell right now, he made the decision to bag everything himself.
If it really mattered to her, his blonde colleague could re-collect the evidence. He could only hope that she still trusted him that much. If not… if Calleigh refused to accept what he’d found, if she didn’t believe in good faith that he’d discovered the evidence, then… better to know it now, Horatio thought.
But unfortunately, there wasn’t much that the CSI team hadn’t already recovered. Aside from the cigarette butts, the redhead, after nearly an hour of searching, only found a receipt from a hardware store a block from Kyle’s foster home. They were long shots, most likely circumstantial evidence at best. And at worst, it might even implicate his son further.
He sighed. The only area left to investigate was the menacing tangles of bushes next to the house. A passing sweep of the area, and his blue eyes saw nothing remarkable. But maybe…
Wooden branches, dusting the grass, snapped underneath his feet. The remaining limbs bit into his legs, scratching him, despite the fact that he was wearing pants. Putting his flashlight in his teeth, the lieutenant began to wade through the bushes. It was a long shot, but his blue eyes remained fixed on the ground before him, searching through the leaves and grass.
Pushing branches aside, scouring for answers, Horatio couldn’t help but muse how long it had been since he’d taken part in an investigation like this. These days his role on the team was mainly supervisory, which he had come to prefer. The science still interested him, sure, but it was slow. And Horatio had always understood that he worked better with those parameters, but… that didn’t mean he liked it.
The redhead preferred the feeling of… actually doing something - as blasphemous as it was for the CSI to even think thatNot waiting for lab results, but looking for answers.
And yet, as horrible as this should have been - wading through branches - there was something about it that made Horatio’s blood sing. He felt alive in a way, more determined than he had probably ever been to solve a case.
Taking one more step, the redhead’s foot kicked something that made a loud slap against the siding of the house. Shifting his flashlight around, Horatio could see the silver cell phone gleaming back at him. He picked it up, trying in vain to keep his head out of the bushes. The CSI made a mental note to make sure he didn’t have any bugs on him before he went to sleep that night.
But it didn’t matter, because the strange cell phone in his hand, Horatio could feel it in his bones: he’d just cracked the case.
-----------------------
Black ink stained his fingers. His picture had been taken, the mug shot no doubt capturing his busted head, which still throbbed.
Well, that was it then, Kyle supposed. He was now officially arrested, and from the cop chatter, they were going to try him as an adult.
It didn’t really hit him what that might mean; the words made sense in his mind, but beyond that… real, actual prison was something he’d never experienced, had never seen. And Kyle had no idea whether or not what was portrayed on TV came anywhere near close to what the real thing as like.
But sitting alone in his little cell - all metal and cold concrete - the blond couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen now.
He’d been so sure that he wouldn’t be going to jail. In his defense though, the teen hadn’t considered the lieutenant would turn out to be his father. Quickly, Kyle made a mental note to make sure all future deals didn’t have a “we’ll-take-it-away-if-Daddy-shows-up” clause.
At least the small room had a bed. Or rather a metal plate that could only be considered a bed if being able to lay on it counted. Still it was better than nothing, and after pacing his cell a few times, Kyle plopped down onto the cool bunk.
He didn’t want to sleep, couldn’t even if he did, but it was a nice change of pace. There were a few men in cells next to him; they thankfully said nothing. But there was a general din about the entire area. The guards chattered about, occasionally walking up and down the narrow hallway. Their boots scuffed against the floor, and one man seemed to have a nasty cough. And each of Kyle’s thoughts seemed to be pierced with a sniffle or the sound of phlegm being forced out of the man’s throat.
It was gross. But if he really was going to jail, the blond understood all too well that he’d better get used to it - and probably worse. Hell, definitely worse.
He shook his head, rolled over to face the wall. Using a finger, Kyle traced a crack in the off white paint. Thinking about what might happen wasn’t going to help anything.
Horatio Caine.
The words popped into his head then. It was the first time he’d really thought of the name, despite having heard it a handful of times today. “Horatio Caine,” he whispered as quietly as possible. At that moment, the sick guard coughed again, the sound swallowing up Kyle’s barely said admittance.
So much had happened, that only now did the blond truly begin to grasp what that name meant.
Horatio Caine was… his father.
It was a foreign concept to him, the words sounding so bizarre. A mother he’d had, could remember easily, constantly. Her soft skin, her warm and airy voice - he hadn’t forgotten that.
But a father? Kyle had never really had one of those. He’d had a stepfather, the blond supposed. However, that had been in title only, and he was sure that that man hadn’t been a decent representative of what even a stepfather should be.
There’d been foster fathers, but even then… that was different. Kyle didn’t really know, but part of parenting had to be not giving up your kid at any available opportunity. Foster parents were dead useful, no doubt. But there was always the looming impermanence of it all, which made it hard to form bonds with anyone.
And Horatio Caine didn’t seem to be faring much better.
Maybe Kyle just wasn’t meant to have a lasting family. Definitely didn’t seem like it would ever happen.
But in his heart, though he dare not give it a voice, the blond wondered… what was going to happen now.
He hadn’t agreed to tell the redhead everything he knew; that just seemed foolish, because Horatio hadn’t earned any trust yet. And Kyle tried to avoid thinking about the what ifs lurking in the back of his mind but could not.
If the redhead could get him out of jail - or if the blond merely got lucky and wasn’t found guilty - then what would happen? Would he go into a different foster home? He doubted his current foster family had any interest in accepting him back into their house. After all, thanks to their whore daughter, they all believed that this kidnapping was his master plan.
Anger surged within him, the desire to punch something almost overwhelming. But there was nothing he could do now - at least not in this small cell. Feebly, his rage slinked away, bottling itself up for later. As a distraction, he started to pick away at the crack in the wall.
Butif he managed to stay out of jail, Kyle thought, what would happen then? And if, on the off chance that it was Horatio who made that happen, then… what would that mean?
The blond could only assume that he would be expected to thank the redhead. Maybe even to accept the man as his father. However, that seemed easier said than done, because Kyle didn’t know that he could do that. In the very least, it had been a long time since he’d been a son to anyone. And the teenager wasn’t quite sure he knew how to do that anymore.
Which didn’t even take into account whether or not he actually wanted a father.
A small hunk of plaster fell from the wall, disintegrating on the metal bed. Really, he thought, a father might be okay. But if parents were going to be randomly popping out of nowhere, he would much prefer his mother.
It wasn’t possible, Kyle told himself. He knew that, had come to accept that horrible fact of life. Still… if by some small chance it was, then… screw having a father.
His still dirty fingers flicked the small pieces of plaster off the metal bunk.
Maybe a father could be okay, he thought. But if it wasn’t what you wanted, Kyle wondered, did it even really matter?
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, and Chapter 15.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show. Don't sue me.
No Other One
Chapter Sixteen: Of cell Phones and Cells
By Duckie Nicks
“The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.” - M. Scott Peck
By the time Horatio arrived at the condemned house, the sun had set completely. Looking down at the case file in his lap, the redhead double checked to see that this was the right address. Though it was hard to see in the dark, the lieutenant could make out the exterior of the rickety home, which had been turned into crummy apartments almost fifty years ago; the location matched Calleigh’s crime scene photos perfectly. He was at the right place.
CSI had collected samples from the area earlier that day, the redhead knew. It was the place that the other two teens had named in their interviews. This was where the Gannon woman had been kept during her kidnapping. And this would be where Horatio would start his own investigation - the first step to keeping Kyle out of jail.
Determined, the redhead opened his car door and hopped out of the Hummer. The night air was chilly, biting at his cheeks, forcing him to accept that these would be the last days of summer. He reached back into his car, grabbing his kit and taking out his flashlight.
But he didn’t get very far as a second hummer screeched up to the cracked sidewalk. It was too dark to see who was behind the wheel, the headlights blinding him. And Horatio’s hand didn’t hesitate to find his gun. The metal was cool against his rough fingertips, but he waited to see who would exit the car.
The lieutenant was only mildly surprised to see Calleigh step out of the car, her impractical heeled boots tapping against the pavement. Pushing her blonde hair out of her face, she asked, “What are you doing here, Horatio?” Her voice sounded exasperated but not suspicious or angry.
He tried to get a better look at her, tried to see her face, but it was too dark out. So he decided to play it safe and told her, “I want to make sure we didn’t miss something.”
Through the darkness, he could see her sway slightly in front of him. “You want someone to go over the scene again, then all right, but… you can’t do it. It’s against policy.”
Well that settled the matter; there was no way Calleigh didn’t know the truth now, he thought. “So the truth is out then,” he said.
“You think something as big as having a son would remain a secret? Horatio, the FBI couldn’t contain that.” There was no arguing that, the redhead knew. And considering he’d done nothing to hide the truth, it wasn’t totally surprising that someone had found out. Not when he’d paraded Kyle and the DNA test around earlier.
Still it hurt - just as the redhead knew it would - to have no one believe in him anymore. Before the blonde would have let him do nearly anything, would have followed him to the ends of the earth to help him accomplish his goal. She’d trusted him in a way that seemed almost… inappropriate for this profession, where you needed to be dispassionate and unaffected; they didn’t have the luxury to trust anyone unconditionally.
“I trust you,” Calleigh said seemingly aware of what he had been thinking. “I don’t honestly believe that you would plant evidence. But you can’t go in there alone. If you find evidence all by yourself, no state’s attorney is going to be able to use that.” From her pocket, she plucked her own miniature flashlight. “You need help.”
Her words filled him with relief, and it gave him some hope that maybe…maybe things wouldn’t have to change that much. But Horatio couldn’t help but ask her, “You don’t want to know -”
“No,” she said a little too quickly. Her words didn’t sound like a snap to him; there was no audible anger, but… it was clear that their friendship had changed. That as much as she might trust him, some part of her… didn’t.
And the redhead knew then that it had been foolish of him to believe things could remain the same. Because he hadn’t done something frivolous like steal something from her kit (a pet peeve Calleigh had acquired long before Speedle and cemented with his death). Having Kyle was bigger than that, whether he liked it or not.
She might be willing to help; they all might be willing to do their jobs still, but… the personal trust had been broken.
Maybe he could earn it back at some point, but in the meantime, there was nothing he could do about it. Right now at least, the situation was… what it was.
“You take the perimeter. I’ll take the inside,” she suggested, breaking the silence. “Holler if you find something, and I’ll bag it.”
Horatio watched, his eyes straining ever so slightly, as she headed inside, pushing the home’s battered door out of the way. He supposed that technically he had the right to insist on other arrangements; if he’d really wanted to, the redhead could have asked her to take the outside. But in all honesty, Horatio knew that he needed her help. And so he bowed his head and got to work.
The house-turned-apartment-complex was unremarkable in every way; the lieutenant doubted that anyone would have paid much attention to it, making it the perfect location to stash someone. Its yard clearly demonstrated the neglect of the property. The grass felt brittle underneath his feet, and looking down, Horatio could see that it was, in some parts, overgrown.
Lining the shabby home were several bushes. They too needed to be clipped, as a person could no longer tell where one plant ended and the other began. Not looking forward to wading through that, the redhead decided to save that part of the yard for last.
Starting at the edges of the yard, there wasn’t much evidence lying around. A few cigarette butts had been stamped out by the back door. For a moment, Horatio debated whether to collect it himself or wait for Calleigh. But thinking of Kyle who was probably sitting in a holding cell right now, he made the decision to bag everything himself.
If it really mattered to her, his blonde colleague could re-collect the evidence. He could only hope that she still trusted him that much. If not… if Calleigh refused to accept what he’d found, if she didn’t believe in good faith that he’d discovered the evidence, then… better to know it now, Horatio thought.
But unfortunately, there wasn’t much that the CSI team hadn’t already recovered. Aside from the cigarette butts, the redhead, after nearly an hour of searching, only found a receipt from a hardware store a block from Kyle’s foster home. They were long shots, most likely circumstantial evidence at best. And at worst, it might even implicate his son further.
He sighed. The only area left to investigate was the menacing tangles of bushes next to the house. A passing sweep of the area, and his blue eyes saw nothing remarkable. But maybe…
Wooden branches, dusting the grass, snapped underneath his feet. The remaining limbs bit into his legs, scratching him, despite the fact that he was wearing pants. Putting his flashlight in his teeth, the lieutenant began to wade through the bushes. It was a long shot, but his blue eyes remained fixed on the ground before him, searching through the leaves and grass.
Pushing branches aside, scouring for answers, Horatio couldn’t help but muse how long it had been since he’d taken part in an investigation like this. These days his role on the team was mainly supervisory, which he had come to prefer. The science still interested him, sure, but it was slow. And Horatio had always understood that he worked better with those parameters, but… that didn’t mean he liked it.
The redhead preferred the feeling of… actually doing something - as blasphemous as it was for the CSI to even think thatNot waiting for lab results, but looking for answers.
And yet, as horrible as this should have been - wading through branches - there was something about it that made Horatio’s blood sing. He felt alive in a way, more determined than he had probably ever been to solve a case.
Taking one more step, the redhead’s foot kicked something that made a loud slap against the siding of the house. Shifting his flashlight around, Horatio could see the silver cell phone gleaming back at him. He picked it up, trying in vain to keep his head out of the bushes. The CSI made a mental note to make sure he didn’t have any bugs on him before he went to sleep that night.
But it didn’t matter, because the strange cell phone in his hand, Horatio could feel it in his bones: he’d just cracked the case.
-----------------------
Black ink stained his fingers. His picture had been taken, the mug shot no doubt capturing his busted head, which still throbbed.
Well, that was it then, Kyle supposed. He was now officially arrested, and from the cop chatter, they were going to try him as an adult.
It didn’t really hit him what that might mean; the words made sense in his mind, but beyond that… real, actual prison was something he’d never experienced, had never seen. And Kyle had no idea whether or not what was portrayed on TV came anywhere near close to what the real thing as like.
But sitting alone in his little cell - all metal and cold concrete - the blond couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen now.
He’d been so sure that he wouldn’t be going to jail. In his defense though, the teen hadn’t considered the lieutenant would turn out to be his father. Quickly, Kyle made a mental note to make sure all future deals didn’t have a “we’ll-take-it-away-if-Daddy-shows-up” clause.
At least the small room had a bed. Or rather a metal plate that could only be considered a bed if being able to lay on it counted. Still it was better than nothing, and after pacing his cell a few times, Kyle plopped down onto the cool bunk.
He didn’t want to sleep, couldn’t even if he did, but it was a nice change of pace. There were a few men in cells next to him; they thankfully said nothing. But there was a general din about the entire area. The guards chattered about, occasionally walking up and down the narrow hallway. Their boots scuffed against the floor, and one man seemed to have a nasty cough. And each of Kyle’s thoughts seemed to be pierced with a sniffle or the sound of phlegm being forced out of the man’s throat.
It was gross. But if he really was going to jail, the blond understood all too well that he’d better get used to it - and probably worse. Hell, definitely worse.
He shook his head, rolled over to face the wall. Using a finger, Kyle traced a crack in the off white paint. Thinking about what might happen wasn’t going to help anything.
Horatio Caine.
The words popped into his head then. It was the first time he’d really thought of the name, despite having heard it a handful of times today. “Horatio Caine,” he whispered as quietly as possible. At that moment, the sick guard coughed again, the sound swallowing up Kyle’s barely said admittance.
So much had happened, that only now did the blond truly begin to grasp what that name meant.
Horatio Caine was… his father.
It was a foreign concept to him, the words sounding so bizarre. A mother he’d had, could remember easily, constantly. Her soft skin, her warm and airy voice - he hadn’t forgotten that.
But a father? Kyle had never really had one of those. He’d had a stepfather, the blond supposed. However, that had been in title only, and he was sure that that man hadn’t been a decent representative of what even a stepfather should be.
There’d been foster fathers, but even then… that was different. Kyle didn’t really know, but part of parenting had to be not giving up your kid at any available opportunity. Foster parents were dead useful, no doubt. But there was always the looming impermanence of it all, which made it hard to form bonds with anyone.
And Horatio Caine didn’t seem to be faring much better.
Maybe Kyle just wasn’t meant to have a lasting family. Definitely didn’t seem like it would ever happen.
But in his heart, though he dare not give it a voice, the blond wondered… what was going to happen now.
He hadn’t agreed to tell the redhead everything he knew; that just seemed foolish, because Horatio hadn’t earned any trust yet. And Kyle tried to avoid thinking about the what ifs lurking in the back of his mind but could not.
If the redhead could get him out of jail - or if the blond merely got lucky and wasn’t found guilty - then what would happen? Would he go into a different foster home? He doubted his current foster family had any interest in accepting him back into their house. After all, thanks to their whore daughter, they all believed that this kidnapping was his master plan.
Anger surged within him, the desire to punch something almost overwhelming. But there was nothing he could do now - at least not in this small cell. Feebly, his rage slinked away, bottling itself up for later. As a distraction, he started to pick away at the crack in the wall.
Butif he managed to stay out of jail, Kyle thought, what would happen then? And if, on the off chance that it was Horatio who made that happen, then… what would that mean?
The blond could only assume that he would be expected to thank the redhead. Maybe even to accept the man as his father. However, that seemed easier said than done, because Kyle didn’t know that he could do that. In the very least, it had been a long time since he’d been a son to anyone. And the teenager wasn’t quite sure he knew how to do that anymore.
Which didn’t even take into account whether or not he actually wanted a father.
A small hunk of plaster fell from the wall, disintegrating on the metal bed. Really, he thought, a father might be okay. But if parents were going to be randomly popping out of nowhere, he would much prefer his mother.
It wasn’t possible, Kyle told himself. He knew that, had come to accept that horrible fact of life. Still… if by some small chance it was, then… screw having a father.
His still dirty fingers flicked the small pieces of plaster off the metal bunk.
Maybe a father could be okay, he thought. But if it wasn’t what you wanted, Kyle wondered, did it even really matter?
Go to the next Chapter