No Other One, Chapter 17
Title: No Other One, Chapter 17
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, and Chapter 16
Disclaimer: I don't own the show. Don't sue me.
No Other One
Chapter Seventeen: Where were you?
By Duckie Nicks
“Some choices we live not only once but a thousand times over, remembering them for the rest of our lives.” - Richard Bach
She hung up the phone, the receiver clicking as it was placed back in its cradle. Her hand lingered there, still clasping the cool black metal. So it was done, the brunette thought. Her fingers nervously tucked a dark curl behind her ear. No longer would she be a private investigator.
There was no doubt in Yelina’s mind that it was the right thing to do. Kyle Harmon’s file sat across from her on the couch where Horatio had put it after making copies on her all-in-one printer. The folder closed, it still made her heart feel heavy. She liked her job well enough, but it was dangerous. And she could no longer avoid that truth, did not want to.
So easily that blond boy could be her own.
Ray Junior’s future was already tenuous at best, which the mother hated. In secret, Yelina sometimes wondered when it would all catch up with him - when her son would finally be arrested or… worse. He was so stubborn and so lost at times that she feared, even with her constant presence, he would turn out like his father. That he would do things she could not fix, go places she couldn’t bring him back from.
Her tongue ran along her teeth as she told herself once more that it was the right thing to do. But the uncomfortable feeling twisting at her stomach made the brunette want to reconsider her decision.
It was odd, Yelina thought, that she should be feel both reluctant and saddened over giving her two weeks notice. Being a private investigator had been a means to an end. They’d taken away her husband’s pension, which she hadn’t fought.
Honestly, she was surprised they’d let her have it this long. And while the money was useful, it had always been more about the gesture itself. It had said that Raymond Caine had been a good cop, a loss to the community, even though there had been whispers to the contrary. Now there was no pension big enough, no act grand enough, to make her want to carry around the title of Ray’s widow. So she’d given it up willingly, despite knowing that that money would help pay for things.
And until she came in to answer questions for them on her “missing year,” the police department had refused to hire her back. So she’d looked into P.I. work. In theory, Yelina didn’t mind telling her former employers everything she knew. Her understanding of Raymond’s activities was vague at best, and as his wife, she was protected under the law; there was no doubt in her mind that the police department would hire her back if she were both honest and contrite enough.
But she had refused to answer their questions because of Ray Junior. The mother wasn’t naïve enough to think that her son had remained ignorant to her husband’s ways. If anything, the teenager probably knew more than her. However, Yelina doubted very much that her child would appreciate her telling the police everything in order to get her job back.
And too, there was Horatio to think about; she was not under legal obligation to arrest her husband. But her brother-in-law had no such protection. If she told the police the truth… Horatio would be arrested. Yet here the brunette was, her hand forced.
The palm of her hand pressed against her fluttering stomach.
But quickly, Yelina pushed the feeling aside.
There was no other choice. She needed a job, she told herself, and being a PI was no longer an option. And there were probably some who would say that being a detective wasn’t much safer. But Yelina didn’t believe that.
It was still dangerous, of course, but at least she’d be able to carry a gun once more. And there would be other people, other detectives, CSI’s, and patrolmen. Which made this job seem all the more favorable over the solitary P.I. life. The brunette was sure that her brother-in-law would remain ill at ease over her decision. But then again, Horatio was rarely comfortable with the choices she made.
Yelina sighed, standing up. Her hands absent-mindedly straightened her clothes. Making her way into the kitchen to do the dishes, the brunette told herself that her brother-in-law would just have to accept this decision. Because she’d set up a meeting to get her job back tomorrow so there was no time for him to object.
As she scrubbed a plate, Yelina knew that it would be a difficult two weeks, assuming she did actually get her job back. But she also figured that they would want her to pass a few skills tests before sending her out on actual cases, leaving her time to tie up some loose ends as a private investigator.
She shouldn’t think like that though, the brunette told herself. At this point, Yelina wasn’t sure what she would tell her potential bosses about her year in Rio. The truth, sadly, might not work in her favor. She might be protected under the law, but that didn’t mean her actions were… good. Her mind instinctively tried to hedge around the truth, but it was too late. Whether she wanted to or not, Yelina was already traveling down that road, was already remembering each day she had spent in South America.
The wet plate in her hands clacked loudly as she shoved it into the dishwasher. Sometimes her time in Brazil seemed like nothing more than an isolated nightmare, where everything she did was wrong and only led to more pain. The brunette understood all too well that… though she didn’t have to testify against her husband, wasn’t under any obligation to turn him in, she should have. She’d been wrong. She’d done the wrong thing, she told herself. Why was that so hard to say, she wondered.
Even now, Yelina wasn’t sure why she had turned a blind eye to all of Raymond’s misdeeds. At some point, she had realized that the love they’d once shared had pretty much disappeared; the brunette had no longer trusted her husband, had stopped believing in his ability to turn things around. The wife didn’t stay because she thought it would get better.
But… even all this time later, there was some part of her that believed staying was what she should have done. That it was her responsibility, her duty - to whom she didn’t know. Maybe for her son… at least, that was what she remembered telling herself upon occasion. That this was all for her child, although keeping Ray Junior in that environment was a mistake. A huge error on her part, if the mother did believe this was her motivation.
Which maybe she did. She wasn’t sure anymore, because more than anything, the brunette remembered feeling… resigned to her life. There had been a few times, sure, where she told herself whatever she needed to to get through the day. Yelina had been well aware, thanks to Ray’s biting words, that she could leave at any time. He hadn’t forced her to stay - had, if anything, tried to push her away. But she felt coerced into living in Brazil nonetheless.
Yes, she could leave if she wanted to, but flitting through her memories, Yelina saw that there was no real consideration given to that option. She’d wanted to leave, of course. Yet… the wife had stood by her husband.
And if she didn’t know how to explain that fact to herself, how was she to defend her choices to a committee of people?
Finishing the dishes, Yelina frowned at how red her hands were; even though they were still wet, she could feel the uncomfortable tautness surrounding each inch of skin. The brunette was vain, she would admit to that. But there was little more that she despised than having rough unkempt fingers.
She should have used her yellow latex gloves, but she’d been too focused on the looming interview.
Glancing at the ticking clock hanging on the wall, Yelina decided that it was late enough to go to sleep. At Rick Stetler’s insistence, her job interrogation was early in the morning. And it hit her then that it would probably be smart to let Ray Junior know.
The sound of her knuckles rapping against the door filled the silent home. But there was no answer, so, rolling her eyes, the mother went into his room. She had assumed that he was - as usual - too busy listening to music with headphones on to here her. However, the room was empty.
Yelina looked around, checked under his bed, perhaps thinking (or hoping) that he would appear from some nook in the miraculously still cluttered room. But after searching every possible hiding spot, his bathroom - her bathroom - and the rest of the house, she realized he was gone.
The mother in her started to well up with panic. She didn’t consider herself to be an easily upset parent, but it seemed like her family was always doomed for her disaster. And given her son’s behavior, the brunette was constantly eager to assume the worse. Because, she started to think while checking each room once more, the worst possible explanation usually turned out to be true. She could feel her heart begin to beat quickly, an unfortunate, but permanent, side effect of having lived through her son being kidnapped.
But in her mind, Yelina wasn’t ready to accept that something had happened. She would at least attempt to find him first. Quickly, her warm hands snatched the phone in his room, dialing his cell as quickly as she could remember the numbers. And with half-relief, half-bubbling anger, the mother was met with Ray Junior’s “Hello” on the second ring.
“I don’t care where you are,” she snapped. “I don’t care what you’re doing. Just get home. Now.” Her voice was dangerous, the accent in her voice thick even to her own ears.
She slammed the phone back into its cradle. As much as she loved her child, sometimes… Yelina wanted nothing more than to strangle him.
************
“Who was that?” Todd asked suspiciously.
Ray Junior shook his head, his short curls tickling the tops of his ears. “Just my psychotic mother.”
“You’re leaving?”
The teenager snatched the CD-rom from the computer’s disc drive. As he began to stick it in the plastic case, Ray said apologetically, “I have to.”
“But we have work to do, Ray!” The other boy began stalking around his bedroom angrily. “And I thought…” he said more quietly but not finishing the thought.
Ray Junior took a step towards the blond teen. His brown eyes raked over the angry boy in front of him. He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Believe me, I know,” Ray told Todd, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “You think I want to go home? Cause… I’d seriously rather not.” Taking a deep breath, the teenager, resigned, started to explain what the likely domino effect would be.
“But if I stay,” he started. “Then she’ll get all upset and call my uncle and then we’ll have the cops searching for me. Because the natural explanation for me being gone in their minds is ‘Shit, Ray’s laying in a ditch somewhere. Let’s freak out as much as humanly possible.’ And then I’ll either never be able to go home or they’ll find me here and then my crazy mother will lock me up in a closet for the rest of my life.” Pausing for air, he finished simply, “and we won’t get the damn game done.”
“I know,” Todd said softly. “It’s just… well, you know.” There was something in the teen’s voice that sounded so needy. And though the words weren’t spoken, it was clear to Ray Junior that Todd wanted him to stay, for reasons not involving the game.
“Yeah, I do.” Ray shoved the game into his bag and started to head towards the bedroom door. But rethinking his move, the brunet turned around, stalked back towards Todd, pulling him close. Using one of his hands, Ray ran his thumb along Todd’s jaw line. The blond took a step forward, and the two teenagers kissed, slowly, their lips pressing together passionately.
Pulling away, Ray Junior said, “Believe me: I know.” He too left the words, I wish I could stay, unsaid.
One last chaste kiss, and the teenager left, irritated. He’d really, really, really rather stay with Todd and work on the game or… do other things. But here he was, walking home, each step filled with regret and anger.
Sometimes, he thought, his mother really fucking sucked.
End (18/??)
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, and Chapter 16
Disclaimer: I don't own the show. Don't sue me.
No Other One
Chapter Seventeen: Where were you?
By Duckie Nicks
“Some choices we live not only once but a thousand times over, remembering them for the rest of our lives.” - Richard Bach
She hung up the phone, the receiver clicking as it was placed back in its cradle. Her hand lingered there, still clasping the cool black metal. So it was done, the brunette thought. Her fingers nervously tucked a dark curl behind her ear. No longer would she be a private investigator.
There was no doubt in Yelina’s mind that it was the right thing to do. Kyle Harmon’s file sat across from her on the couch where Horatio had put it after making copies on her all-in-one printer. The folder closed, it still made her heart feel heavy. She liked her job well enough, but it was dangerous. And she could no longer avoid that truth, did not want to.
So easily that blond boy could be her own.
Ray Junior’s future was already tenuous at best, which the mother hated. In secret, Yelina sometimes wondered when it would all catch up with him - when her son would finally be arrested or… worse. He was so stubborn and so lost at times that she feared, even with her constant presence, he would turn out like his father. That he would do things she could not fix, go places she couldn’t bring him back from.
Her tongue ran along her teeth as she told herself once more that it was the right thing to do. But the uncomfortable feeling twisting at her stomach made the brunette want to reconsider her decision.
It was odd, Yelina thought, that she should be feel both reluctant and saddened over giving her two weeks notice. Being a private investigator had been a means to an end. They’d taken away her husband’s pension, which she hadn’t fought.
Honestly, she was surprised they’d let her have it this long. And while the money was useful, it had always been more about the gesture itself. It had said that Raymond Caine had been a good cop, a loss to the community, even though there had been whispers to the contrary. Now there was no pension big enough, no act grand enough, to make her want to carry around the title of Ray’s widow. So she’d given it up willingly, despite knowing that that money would help pay for things.
And until she came in to answer questions for them on her “missing year,” the police department had refused to hire her back. So she’d looked into P.I. work. In theory, Yelina didn’t mind telling her former employers everything she knew. Her understanding of Raymond’s activities was vague at best, and as his wife, she was protected under the law; there was no doubt in her mind that the police department would hire her back if she were both honest and contrite enough.
But she had refused to answer their questions because of Ray Junior. The mother wasn’t naïve enough to think that her son had remained ignorant to her husband’s ways. If anything, the teenager probably knew more than her. However, Yelina doubted very much that her child would appreciate her telling the police everything in order to get her job back.
And too, there was Horatio to think about; she was not under legal obligation to arrest her husband. But her brother-in-law had no such protection. If she told the police the truth… Horatio would be arrested. Yet here the brunette was, her hand forced.
The palm of her hand pressed against her fluttering stomach.
But quickly, Yelina pushed the feeling aside.
There was no other choice. She needed a job, she told herself, and being a PI was no longer an option. And there were probably some who would say that being a detective wasn’t much safer. But Yelina didn’t believe that.
It was still dangerous, of course, but at least she’d be able to carry a gun once more. And there would be other people, other detectives, CSI’s, and patrolmen. Which made this job seem all the more favorable over the solitary P.I. life. The brunette was sure that her brother-in-law would remain ill at ease over her decision. But then again, Horatio was rarely comfortable with the choices she made.
Yelina sighed, standing up. Her hands absent-mindedly straightened her clothes. Making her way into the kitchen to do the dishes, the brunette told herself that her brother-in-law would just have to accept this decision. Because she’d set up a meeting to get her job back tomorrow so there was no time for him to object.
As she scrubbed a plate, Yelina knew that it would be a difficult two weeks, assuming she did actually get her job back. But she also figured that they would want her to pass a few skills tests before sending her out on actual cases, leaving her time to tie up some loose ends as a private investigator.
She shouldn’t think like that though, the brunette told herself. At this point, Yelina wasn’t sure what she would tell her potential bosses about her year in Rio. The truth, sadly, might not work in her favor. She might be protected under the law, but that didn’t mean her actions were… good. Her mind instinctively tried to hedge around the truth, but it was too late. Whether she wanted to or not, Yelina was already traveling down that road, was already remembering each day she had spent in South America.
The wet plate in her hands clacked loudly as she shoved it into the dishwasher. Sometimes her time in Brazil seemed like nothing more than an isolated nightmare, where everything she did was wrong and only led to more pain. The brunette understood all too well that… though she didn’t have to testify against her husband, wasn’t under any obligation to turn him in, she should have. She’d been wrong. She’d done the wrong thing, she told herself. Why was that so hard to say, she wondered.
Even now, Yelina wasn’t sure why she had turned a blind eye to all of Raymond’s misdeeds. At some point, she had realized that the love they’d once shared had pretty much disappeared; the brunette had no longer trusted her husband, had stopped believing in his ability to turn things around. The wife didn’t stay because she thought it would get better.
But… even all this time later, there was some part of her that believed staying was what she should have done. That it was her responsibility, her duty - to whom she didn’t know. Maybe for her son… at least, that was what she remembered telling herself upon occasion. That this was all for her child, although keeping Ray Junior in that environment was a mistake. A huge error on her part, if the mother did believe this was her motivation.
Which maybe she did. She wasn’t sure anymore, because more than anything, the brunette remembered feeling… resigned to her life. There had been a few times, sure, where she told herself whatever she needed to to get through the day. Yelina had been well aware, thanks to Ray’s biting words, that she could leave at any time. He hadn’t forced her to stay - had, if anything, tried to push her away. But she felt coerced into living in Brazil nonetheless.
Yes, she could leave if she wanted to, but flitting through her memories, Yelina saw that there was no real consideration given to that option. She’d wanted to leave, of course. Yet… the wife had stood by her husband.
And if she didn’t know how to explain that fact to herself, how was she to defend her choices to a committee of people?
Finishing the dishes, Yelina frowned at how red her hands were; even though they were still wet, she could feel the uncomfortable tautness surrounding each inch of skin. The brunette was vain, she would admit to that. But there was little more that she despised than having rough unkempt fingers.
She should have used her yellow latex gloves, but she’d been too focused on the looming interview.
Glancing at the ticking clock hanging on the wall, Yelina decided that it was late enough to go to sleep. At Rick Stetler’s insistence, her job interrogation was early in the morning. And it hit her then that it would probably be smart to let Ray Junior know.
The sound of her knuckles rapping against the door filled the silent home. But there was no answer, so, rolling her eyes, the mother went into his room. She had assumed that he was - as usual - too busy listening to music with headphones on to here her. However, the room was empty.
Yelina looked around, checked under his bed, perhaps thinking (or hoping) that he would appear from some nook in the miraculously still cluttered room. But after searching every possible hiding spot, his bathroom - her bathroom - and the rest of the house, she realized he was gone.
The mother in her started to well up with panic. She didn’t consider herself to be an easily upset parent, but it seemed like her family was always doomed for her disaster. And given her son’s behavior, the brunette was constantly eager to assume the worse. Because, she started to think while checking each room once more, the worst possible explanation usually turned out to be true. She could feel her heart begin to beat quickly, an unfortunate, but permanent, side effect of having lived through her son being kidnapped.
But in her mind, Yelina wasn’t ready to accept that something had happened. She would at least attempt to find him first. Quickly, her warm hands snatched the phone in his room, dialing his cell as quickly as she could remember the numbers. And with half-relief, half-bubbling anger, the mother was met with Ray Junior’s “Hello” on the second ring.
“I don’t care where you are,” she snapped. “I don’t care what you’re doing. Just get home. Now.” Her voice was dangerous, the accent in her voice thick even to her own ears.
She slammed the phone back into its cradle. As much as she loved her child, sometimes… Yelina wanted nothing more than to strangle him.
************
“Who was that?” Todd asked suspiciously.
Ray Junior shook his head, his short curls tickling the tops of his ears. “Just my psychotic mother.”
“You’re leaving?”
The teenager snatched the CD-rom from the computer’s disc drive. As he began to stick it in the plastic case, Ray said apologetically, “I have to.”
“But we have work to do, Ray!” The other boy began stalking around his bedroom angrily. “And I thought…” he said more quietly but not finishing the thought.
Ray Junior took a step towards the blond teen. His brown eyes raked over the angry boy in front of him. He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Believe me, I know,” Ray told Todd, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “You think I want to go home? Cause… I’d seriously rather not.” Taking a deep breath, the teenager, resigned, started to explain what the likely domino effect would be.
“But if I stay,” he started. “Then she’ll get all upset and call my uncle and then we’ll have the cops searching for me. Because the natural explanation for me being gone in their minds is ‘Shit, Ray’s laying in a ditch somewhere. Let’s freak out as much as humanly possible.’ And then I’ll either never be able to go home or they’ll find me here and then my crazy mother will lock me up in a closet for the rest of my life.” Pausing for air, he finished simply, “and we won’t get the damn game done.”
“I know,” Todd said softly. “It’s just… well, you know.” There was something in the teen’s voice that sounded so needy. And though the words weren’t spoken, it was clear to Ray Junior that Todd wanted him to stay, for reasons not involving the game.
“Yeah, I do.” Ray shoved the game into his bag and started to head towards the bedroom door. But rethinking his move, the brunet turned around, stalked back towards Todd, pulling him close. Using one of his hands, Ray ran his thumb along Todd’s jaw line. The blond took a step forward, and the two teenagers kissed, slowly, their lips pressing together passionately.
Pulling away, Ray Junior said, “Believe me: I know.” He too left the words, I wish I could stay, unsaid.
One last chaste kiss, and the teenager left, irritated. He’d really, really, really rather stay with Todd and work on the game or… do other things. But here he was, walking home, each step filled with regret and anger.
Sometimes, he thought, his mother really fucking sucked.
End (18/??)