No Other One, Chapter 25
Title: No Other One, Chapter 25
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, and Chapter 24
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, so don't sue me.
“Two things stand like stone: kindness in another’s trouble, courage in your own.” - Adam Lindsay Gordon
Still facing the wall, Kyle wasn’t sure how he knew it was mid-morning. He hadn’t looked at the window by the guard’s desk since dawn. But the blond could tell that hours had passed.
Or maybe it just felt that way.
His fingers worked continually to increase the width of the crack in the wall. After all, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do with his time. But, even knowing that, Kyle thought that there was something relaxing about it, something satisfying about being able to see the product of his own work.
Little tiny pieces of paint and drywall specked the gray metal cot. His fingers were tainted a gruesome pink, a combination of his dried blood and mortar. Or whatever this wall was made out of.
Trying to block the sounds of the guards’ almost continual chatter and the occasional snore from a prisoner, Kyle sunk deeper into his thoughts. He imagined what he might have been like if his life had been different. If he’d never lost his mother, if he’d had a father who had actually been around when it mattered… if the teen himself hadn’t fucked his foster family’s daughter or gotten caught. Or been forced into this mess to begin with.
Wiggling his index finger in the crack, Kyle couldn’t stop himself from thinking all the what ifs. And in doing so, the blond couldn’t help but notice how many outs he’d been given - or could have had if everyone else in his life had done what they were supposed to do.
Maybe he’d screwed up a lot, the teenager admitted, but there was no denying the feeling that so much of his life had already been determined for him by someone else’s actions.
Flecks of paint fell in a delicate snow from the wall. Trying to turn his attention elsewhere, Kyle thought that maybe in another life, being a sculptor would have been a fun job. Or perhaps being a painter. Something where you could immediately see the results of your actions and know whether it was good or not.
He wasn’t interested in hidden agendas or anything long term.
Quickly, hearing someone’s footsteps approach his cell, Kyle jerked his hand from the wall. He tried to brush the proof of his actions onto the floor before tucking his dirty fingers under his side. Not that he was doing anything wrong, but the blond hardly wanted to be accused of trying to dig a tunnel out of here.
Of course… was anyone really stupid enough to think that would work?
Probably, he decided, shutting his eyes, as the door to his cell was unlocked. An alarm bell inside made him think that maybe ignoring the disturbance was the wrong thing to do. Especially if they were going to be giving him a new cell mate, having his back turned wasn’t a great idea. .
Maybe, Kyle thought then, he should have been worried who was coming to see him or what was going on.
But at the same time, he thought that he was safe enough. Maybe in a prison with crappy security, Kyle would be man meat. But the holding cells at the police department weren’t like that. The way each barred area was situated, the guards could easily see in. And maybe cops weren’t generally trustworthy, but letting rape happen on their watch, right in their line of sight, was a little too much… even for them.
A person, the boy thought, would have to be really stupid to try something in this place.
Just to be sure though, Kyle tightened his free hand into a fist. He waited for something to happen, the sound of a belt buckle jingling - anything - but nothing changed.
“Kyle.”
Cautiously turning around and sitting up, the teenager could see the other man standing inside the barred area with him. Not a guard or a prisoner or some other nameless face, but… Horatio Caine.
The blond looked up at the older man but said nothing. Words escaped him, because… he really hadn’t expected to see the redhead ever again. Yes, it was a proven fact that they were related. But Kyle didn’t think DNA meant much when there were no memories or feelings of love behind it.
And honestly... Horatio seemed like the kind of man who liked being seen as perfect, even when he wasn’t. Clearly he wasn’t, but from what Kyle had seen, so many people were willing to overlook that. Except for that one cop, but even… Stetler was his name had looked the other way in the end.
So really the teenager had expected nothing from this man, even though he made promises to the contrary. Because given the choice between maintaining your reputation and helping some kid who pretty much hated you… well, Kyle knew what he himself would want to choose.
But here Horatio was.
The blond hid his surprise as best as he could.
“I thought you might be hungry,” the redhead said gently. He held his hand out for Kyle to see. In the man’s grasp was a bagel cut in half, cream cheese slathered liberally on the inside. So much so that it seeped out of the sides of the breading and leaked onto the napkin wrapped around it.
The teenager wasn’t hungry, not in the least. It had almost been a day since he’d eaten. The last food he had was the croissant off of the woman’s plate… the woman who had been following him. And he made a mental note to figure out just who she was, because Horatio knew her, it seemed, and the blond wanted to know if she had known they were related.
But for now, Kyle turned his mind back to the proffered food. He should be hungry, he guessed, but knowing that he would be going to prison made breakfast seem really not all that important.
The blond shook his head. “Not hungry,” he told Horatio.
“All right,” the redhead said, but it was clear to Kyle that the man seemed hurt. And for a brief moment, the teenager felt guilty… and then he realized that there was no reason to feel that way.
So the man had done one nice thing. That didn’t make up for the past, and maybe, Kyle thought, nothing would ever make up for the hell he had been through.
And it wasn’t a conscious act of rebellion or… punishment, the blond told himself. If Horatio could prove himself, could actually show himself to be of some worth, then maybe things could… improve. But in order for that to happen, there’d have to be more than a bagel and tons of cream cheese.
The redhead set the food down on the makeshift bed next to Kyle before sitting on a cot opposite of the teenager. “Okay,” Horatio started. “I think… we need to talk about a few things.”
Sure, the blond thought. They should talk. Just sit and chat about the weather and not find a way to get him out of prison.
The older man continued before he had a chance to say anything. “Calleigh Duquesne,” he started to say.
“Who?” Kyle asked, interrupting.
“The blonde CSI you met earlier.” And when the teenager didn’t say anything, Horatio pressed on. “She and I reprocessed the apartment building we know the Gannon woman was kept in.”
“Oh.”
“We discovered some new evidence, Kyle.”
The boy looked at the older man at that moment. There was no accusation in his tone, but Kyle didn’t think it was a good sign - that they’d discovered new evidence. After all, so far, nothing had gone his way. Why should this new information?
But the blond tried not to let it show, instead focusing his attention onto the bagel next to him. He really wasn’t hungry, but it was a distraction, and so he picked at the food.
“Did you know that your friend, Adam -”
“He’s not my friend,” he said, sounding slightly defensive.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kyle could see Horatio shifting on the cot. “Right,” the man drawled. “Well, Mr. Jackson, it turns out, was paid by Michael Gannon to perform the kidnapping.”
That definitely grabbed the teen’s attention. He looked up at the redhead in surprise, which he didn’t even try to hide. “Seriously?”
Horatio nodded his head, looking like he wanted to say so much more. But he only said, “I’ve shared this information with the prosecutor of your case… and now… we wait.”
Kyle gave the man a curt nod before returning to the bagel and ripping off a piece of the chewy crust. Still, he didn’t eat it.
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but -“
But whatever Horatio was going to say had to wait. A woman - the prosecutor - approached their cell, interrupting their conversation.
“Horatio. We need to talk.”
The man got up and said to Kyle, “I’ll be back soon.”
And once again, the teenager was left alone, the bagel unable to distract from that fact.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Horatio had a son.
Not… a surrogate child like Ray Junior or Madison. But an actual son. Just as she had a son.
It made her head spin. And it seemed like the longer she knew about it, the less understandable it was. Which was saying something, given that Yelina had barely been able to comprehend the words to begin with.
The car came to an abrupt stop in front of her house, but she made no move to get out. She could feel Rick pull his hand off of her lap, could hear him open his door. But all she could think about was Horatio.
Okay, so people made mistakes. But… how had he made this one? Yelina thought quickly back to the file and everything she’d read about Kyle Harmon. That boy had suffered so much, and… her brother-in-law was, in some ways, to blame.
It just made no sense.
The car door jerked open. “Time to get out,” Rick told her.
“I… don’t understand how…” Choking on her own words, she couldn’t finish the thought.
Out of the corner of her eye, Yelina could see Rick lean down, resting one arm on the roof of her car. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s go inside.”
The brunette looked over at him. His dark eyes were soft, a muted brown that she had rarely if ever seen before. And she couldn’t help but feel a little at ease.
He reached down and across her lap once more, unbuckling her seat belt. “Come on,” Rick ordered once more. “I can’t carry you.”
Numbly, Yelina nodded in agreement. On legs uneasy, she got out of the car, her heels scuffing on the driveway. And though it probably wasn’t smart to go down this territory again, the brunette instinctively reached out for his hand. Thankfully, the dark-haired man laced his fingers through her own.
Perhaps he thought she was going to fall. But the truth was she just… needed that little bit of contact right now. Without it, she felt lost, like the world had suddenly begun to spin in a different direction.
He led her up to the house and used her keys to get inside. Normally when she came home, the moment she stepped through the front door made her feel like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Yelina had never considered herself a home body, but… after everything with Ray and her job and constantly moving, being inside the place where her family lived meant something. It… grounded her, renewed that feeling of purpose, and she didn’t feel quite so lost.
But not today. Not now. Not when her own family seemed hell bent on destroying itself with secrets.
How could Horatio do it? How had he allowed this lie to continue for so long, she wondered.
And she realized, as Rick said, “I’m gonna call for a cab,” that she really didn’t want to hear her brother-in-law’s answers. Because nothing he could say would make her feel better or any less betrayed.
Silently, save for the sound of her heels on the tile, the brunette followed Rick into the kitchen. He’d been right the whole time about Horatio.
He’d said that the redhead wasn’t perfect, that he hurt her and put her life at risk too many times. But Yelina had refused to listen at the time.
Rick had been right all along.
The weight of the realization forced her to sit uneasily in one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
Now it seemed ridiculous for her to have ever doubted his words. Because not even her loyalty, her love, had stopped Horatio from doing this, and it killed her to admit that none of it seemed to matter to her brother-in-law.
And the brunette could no longer trust the idea that the redhead was just insecure with his own feelings or that he would eventually come around. She didn’t want him to come around, anymore. Whatever allure he had once held seemed to be destroyed now.
On the other hand…
Her eyes slid over to Rick, who was standing in her kitchen, her phone cradled between his ear and shoulder. Odd though it was, Yelina felt as though she were seeing the dark-haired man in a whole new light.
When they’d dated, there had been the constant pressure, it seemed, from Horatio to break up with him. The redhead had rarely said anything, but the sister-in-law knew he didn’t approve. He talked about giving her space, giving her time. And in reality, it had felt like she was being punished for dating Stetler.
Because of that, there had always been a sense of shame for her, a conflict between being with someone she cared about and doing what Horatio wanted. Yelina mentally tried to count the number of times she’d fought with Rick over something her brother-in-law had done or said.
Too many times to count, she supposed.
But without that influence, the brunette wondered… what would their relationship have been like? What could it have been like?
Yelina wasn’t so naïve to think that everything would have been perfect. Stetler could still be an ass, and she had her temper as well. They were a volatile mix at times, but maybe… it didn’t have to be that way.
She let out a soft groan, the sound catching the attention of the man in her kitchen. He started to walk towards her.
No, the brunette told herself. She was not going down that road. There had been a reason they broke up. Reasons that had nothing to do with Horatio or anyone outside of her relationship with Rick. Reaching up, she pressed the palm of her hand hard against her forehead.
She was not going to date this man again, wasn’t going to think about this anymore.
But the thought was forced from her mind as Rick stepped behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Almost immediately, his fingers began to knead the tense area, but it did little to make her feel better. Instead, the action seemed to only fuel her ambivalence.
“I can’t believe this,” he said, sounding slightly irritated.
Craning her head upward to see what he was talking about, Yelina could feel her curls cascade over his fingertips, the ringlets becoming trapped between the back of the chair and his body.
The concern must have shown in her eyes, because Rick lightly stroked the soft olive flesh of her cheek.
It was a reminder of one thing the brunette had liked about him when they had been together. Generally speaking, she hated men who tried to take care of her; it always felt so demeaning. And there were many times where Stetler had tried to gain control, and she’d resented that. But there were also moments where it just felt right to give him control. To let him take over, if only because he looked sexier when he did.
And right now, in this particular instance, his almost smarmy paternalism felt nice. Perhaps it was a mistake to lean on someone at a time like this - when she was reeling from another’s betrayal. Part of her mind felt like she’d learned nothing at all if she were so willing to turn to Rick.
However, Yelina found herself continually gravitating towards him, and maybe that was because she liked - envied - his clear worldview. Jealousy, that he never once had been duped by Horatio, spread through her like an intoxicating drug. It made her feel so much more compliant to anything Rick wanted from her. And the danger she somehow knew lay ahead seemed completely unimportant at the moment. Not when he was being so gentle and good to her.
“They have me on hold,” he finally explained.
Her lips formed an o in understanding, but no sound came out. And, as the person on the other end of the line answered his call, Yelina looked back down at her manicured hands, which were lying flat on the table.
She shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t be interested in Rick again. Especially after he’d hit her. After all, the detective in her… had seen too many times how those situations never changed. The dark-haired man had said that he was in anger management, but the truth was… Yelina couldn’t believe that he would change immediately. Or anytime soon for that matter.
In the simplest terms possible, she told herself that he’d hit her before. And he would… do it again, and everyone the brunette might talk to about this would say that her decision was easy. Probably that there was no real decision at all.
But it seemed so hard right now to say no to him, even though Yelina supposed he wasn’t really asking.
As he told the cab company her address, she had to brace herself against her chair, forced herself to stay where she was. Because the temptation to get up and throw herself back into that relationship was almost too much to bear.
And yet, when Rick hung up the phone, Yelina didn’t bother to try and stifle the words that flew from her mouth. Her voice was low, “You asked me earlier… why I didn’t go to Horatio for help.”
His hands rubbed her shoulders as he told her, “You don’t need to -”
“Well, I’m offering to,” she said testily. His fingers sliding through her hair, Rick took a seat at the table next to her. “I thought he was dead… I thought Ray was gone. And then…” She searched for the words. “The man who shot my husband was found dead, and it turned out… Ray might be alive after all.”
Though it was impossible, her mouth seemed to fill with the bitterness she felt. “And I guess everybody else learned about that as well, because then Ray Junior was kidnapped to bring Ray out of hiding.”
“I remember,” Rick said.
She brushed a curl out of her face. “After it was over… well, Horatio never said so, but I thought… I thought that my husband had died again. And then Horatio said that I deserved a vacation, and…” She trailed off, not sure she should tell Stetler this part of the story.
“And what?” He reached over for her hand. “What happened?” the dark-haired man asked.
She hesitated for a moment. The truth was something she had no doubt that he would hate. “I thought we were going to go together,” Yelina confessed.
Looking at him, the brunette watched as the words sank in. His face contorted from one of confusion to surprise and eventually suppressed anger. He jerked his hand away from hers. And she’d known the rejection would hurt, that the disappointment would sting, but… it still almost took her breath away.
“Well, I guess that answers my question about how quickly you moved on, doesn’t it?” he sneered.
“No,” she countered, desperate to explain. “It’s not like that, Rick.”
“Really? Because it sounds to me like we broke up, and then the man that you finally wanted came around, and you jumped -”
“I did not ‘jump,’” she snapped. And before they could go another round, Yelina continued. “I didn’t! Believe me - I did not just move on like you think.” She bit down on her lip. “Whether you actually believe me or not, our relationship meant something to me. It still means something to me.”
“Sure.”
“I mean that, Rick! You weren’t just some… man I dated. I loved you, and I brought you into my home. I let you tuck my son into bed at night. How could that not mean something to me?”
He sighed and seemed to have given up the fight. “So Horatio asked you to go away with him.”
“In… not so many words, yes. And I agreed,” she said. “Not because I was ready for another relationship, because I really wasn’t… but he asked me. And I said yes, because I was honestly in need of a vacation.”
Stetler smirked. “And you were afraid Mr. Dreamboat would never ask again if you said no.”
“Yes.”
That he didn’t hit her right away, Yelina thought, was a good sign. Because sadly she had expected him to. After all, Rick had been suspicious of her feelings for Horatio for years; it was, she thought, probably one reason why he’d been so happy to date her. Which was ironic, because to anyone else, it would seem unlikely that two men who hated one another could want the same thing. And yet, she knew it wasn’t, because... just as Horatio had taken the title of lieutenant from Rick, Stetler had decided to claim her instead.
Yet she had always denied the accusation - that she was in love with Horatio. The brunette had always said that she respected her brother-in-law, loved him, because he was family, but not because she was attracted to him. And Rick had never really believed the lie, but then again, he rarely seemed intent on getting the truth from her. Perhaps it had scared him - to know for certain that his girlfriend wanted another man.
When the dark-haired man sitting across from her said nothing, she continued. “So… I went with him - and my son - to the airport. And there he was: Ray.” She reached forward and grasped his hand. “I couldn’t ask Horatio for help, because he was the one who orchestrated the whole thing.”
Stetler didn’t pull away, which she took to be a good sign. But his words bit into her. “If you didn’t want to go, you didn’t have to.”
“But I did!” she cried. “Ray Junior saw his father,and… I have tried for years to make up for that absence in his life. I have told myself so many times how okay we were doing, just the two of us.” The tears glistened in her eyes, making it hard to see, but Yelina was determined not to let them fall. “When my son hit the tarmac, it was like seeing this whole other side to him that I thought was gone. He was… happy in a way that I can barely remember him being.”
“So you got on the plane.”
“Of course, I did!” she said, acting as though there were no other options. Probably because she didn’t think there were. “I was not ready for that - to suddenly be… Mrs. Raymond Caine again, but I did it. For my child… what else was I supposed to do?”
Yelina looked away from him, holding her breath and awaiting his answer. But none ever came, and some part of her let out a sigh of relief. That Rick had no… immediate come back, no solution that she should have seen, put her somewhat at ease.
At the same time, though, there was a little piece of her that would like to know there had been some alternative. Weird though it was, the brunette needed to believe that… if she’d done something differently, she would have been able to avoid that year in Rio. She needed to know that she hadn’t been destined to lose her husband again, fated to lose the closeness with her brother-in-law and son.
Maybe there was no point in knowing how things could have been different, she conceded. But… accepting that Yelina had had no choice in what happened, that she had been doomed to lose nearly everything because of her husband? It would fill her with a sadness she couldn’t bear to feel. And worse than that, she’d feel helpless, completely inept at protecting her family.
So there just simply had to have been a way… but what could it be?
What was she supposed to do? What did she do wrong?
How was she to protect her family?
End (26/??)
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, and Chapter 24
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, so don't sue me.
“Two things stand like stone: kindness in another’s trouble, courage in your own.” - Adam Lindsay Gordon
Still facing the wall, Kyle wasn’t sure how he knew it was mid-morning. He hadn’t looked at the window by the guard’s desk since dawn. But the blond could tell that hours had passed.
Or maybe it just felt that way.
His fingers worked continually to increase the width of the crack in the wall. After all, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do with his time. But, even knowing that, Kyle thought that there was something relaxing about it, something satisfying about being able to see the product of his own work.
Little tiny pieces of paint and drywall specked the gray metal cot. His fingers were tainted a gruesome pink, a combination of his dried blood and mortar. Or whatever this wall was made out of.
Trying to block the sounds of the guards’ almost continual chatter and the occasional snore from a prisoner, Kyle sunk deeper into his thoughts. He imagined what he might have been like if his life had been different. If he’d never lost his mother, if he’d had a father who had actually been around when it mattered… if the teen himself hadn’t fucked his foster family’s daughter or gotten caught. Or been forced into this mess to begin with.
Wiggling his index finger in the crack, Kyle couldn’t stop himself from thinking all the what ifs. And in doing so, the blond couldn’t help but notice how many outs he’d been given - or could have had if everyone else in his life had done what they were supposed to do.
Maybe he’d screwed up a lot, the teenager admitted, but there was no denying the feeling that so much of his life had already been determined for him by someone else’s actions.
Flecks of paint fell in a delicate snow from the wall. Trying to turn his attention elsewhere, Kyle thought that maybe in another life, being a sculptor would have been a fun job. Or perhaps being a painter. Something where you could immediately see the results of your actions and know whether it was good or not.
He wasn’t interested in hidden agendas or anything long term.
Quickly, hearing someone’s footsteps approach his cell, Kyle jerked his hand from the wall. He tried to brush the proof of his actions onto the floor before tucking his dirty fingers under his side. Not that he was doing anything wrong, but the blond hardly wanted to be accused of trying to dig a tunnel out of here.
Of course… was anyone really stupid enough to think that would work?
Probably, he decided, shutting his eyes, as the door to his cell was unlocked. An alarm bell inside made him think that maybe ignoring the disturbance was the wrong thing to do. Especially if they were going to be giving him a new cell mate, having his back turned wasn’t a great idea. .
Maybe, Kyle thought then, he should have been worried who was coming to see him or what was going on.
But at the same time, he thought that he was safe enough. Maybe in a prison with crappy security, Kyle would be man meat. But the holding cells at the police department weren’t like that. The way each barred area was situated, the guards could easily see in. And maybe cops weren’t generally trustworthy, but letting rape happen on their watch, right in their line of sight, was a little too much… even for them.
A person, the boy thought, would have to be really stupid to try something in this place.
Just to be sure though, Kyle tightened his free hand into a fist. He waited for something to happen, the sound of a belt buckle jingling - anything - but nothing changed.
“Kyle.”
Cautiously turning around and sitting up, the teenager could see the other man standing inside the barred area with him. Not a guard or a prisoner or some other nameless face, but… Horatio Caine.
The blond looked up at the older man but said nothing. Words escaped him, because… he really hadn’t expected to see the redhead ever again. Yes, it was a proven fact that they were related. But Kyle didn’t think DNA meant much when there were no memories or feelings of love behind it.
And honestly... Horatio seemed like the kind of man who liked being seen as perfect, even when he wasn’t. Clearly he wasn’t, but from what Kyle had seen, so many people were willing to overlook that. Except for that one cop, but even… Stetler was his name had looked the other way in the end.
So really the teenager had expected nothing from this man, even though he made promises to the contrary. Because given the choice between maintaining your reputation and helping some kid who pretty much hated you… well, Kyle knew what he himself would want to choose.
But here Horatio was.
The blond hid his surprise as best as he could.
“I thought you might be hungry,” the redhead said gently. He held his hand out for Kyle to see. In the man’s grasp was a bagel cut in half, cream cheese slathered liberally on the inside. So much so that it seeped out of the sides of the breading and leaked onto the napkin wrapped around it.
The teenager wasn’t hungry, not in the least. It had almost been a day since he’d eaten. The last food he had was the croissant off of the woman’s plate… the woman who had been following him. And he made a mental note to figure out just who she was, because Horatio knew her, it seemed, and the blond wanted to know if she had known they were related.
But for now, Kyle turned his mind back to the proffered food. He should be hungry, he guessed, but knowing that he would be going to prison made breakfast seem really not all that important.
The blond shook his head. “Not hungry,” he told Horatio.
“All right,” the redhead said, but it was clear to Kyle that the man seemed hurt. And for a brief moment, the teenager felt guilty… and then he realized that there was no reason to feel that way.
So the man had done one nice thing. That didn’t make up for the past, and maybe, Kyle thought, nothing would ever make up for the hell he had been through.
And it wasn’t a conscious act of rebellion or… punishment, the blond told himself. If Horatio could prove himself, could actually show himself to be of some worth, then maybe things could… improve. But in order for that to happen, there’d have to be more than a bagel and tons of cream cheese.
The redhead set the food down on the makeshift bed next to Kyle before sitting on a cot opposite of the teenager. “Okay,” Horatio started. “I think… we need to talk about a few things.”
Sure, the blond thought. They should talk. Just sit and chat about the weather and not find a way to get him out of prison.
The older man continued before he had a chance to say anything. “Calleigh Duquesne,” he started to say.
“Who?” Kyle asked, interrupting.
“The blonde CSI you met earlier.” And when the teenager didn’t say anything, Horatio pressed on. “She and I reprocessed the apartment building we know the Gannon woman was kept in.”
“Oh.”
“We discovered some new evidence, Kyle.”
The boy looked at the older man at that moment. There was no accusation in his tone, but Kyle didn’t think it was a good sign - that they’d discovered new evidence. After all, so far, nothing had gone his way. Why should this new information?
But the blond tried not to let it show, instead focusing his attention onto the bagel next to him. He really wasn’t hungry, but it was a distraction, and so he picked at the food.
“Did you know that your friend, Adam -”
“He’s not my friend,” he said, sounding slightly defensive.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kyle could see Horatio shifting on the cot. “Right,” the man drawled. “Well, Mr. Jackson, it turns out, was paid by Michael Gannon to perform the kidnapping.”
That definitely grabbed the teen’s attention. He looked up at the redhead in surprise, which he didn’t even try to hide. “Seriously?”
Horatio nodded his head, looking like he wanted to say so much more. But he only said, “I’ve shared this information with the prosecutor of your case… and now… we wait.”
Kyle gave the man a curt nod before returning to the bagel and ripping off a piece of the chewy crust. Still, he didn’t eat it.
“I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but -“
But whatever Horatio was going to say had to wait. A woman - the prosecutor - approached their cell, interrupting their conversation.
“Horatio. We need to talk.”
The man got up and said to Kyle, “I’ll be back soon.”
And once again, the teenager was left alone, the bagel unable to distract from that fact.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Horatio had a son.
Not… a surrogate child like Ray Junior or Madison. But an actual son. Just as she had a son.
It made her head spin. And it seemed like the longer she knew about it, the less understandable it was. Which was saying something, given that Yelina had barely been able to comprehend the words to begin with.
The car came to an abrupt stop in front of her house, but she made no move to get out. She could feel Rick pull his hand off of her lap, could hear him open his door. But all she could think about was Horatio.
Okay, so people made mistakes. But… how had he made this one? Yelina thought quickly back to the file and everything she’d read about Kyle Harmon. That boy had suffered so much, and… her brother-in-law was, in some ways, to blame.
It just made no sense.
The car door jerked open. “Time to get out,” Rick told her.
“I… don’t understand how…” Choking on her own words, she couldn’t finish the thought.
Out of the corner of her eye, Yelina could see Rick lean down, resting one arm on the roof of her car. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s go inside.”
The brunette looked over at him. His dark eyes were soft, a muted brown that she had rarely if ever seen before. And she couldn’t help but feel a little at ease.
He reached down and across her lap once more, unbuckling her seat belt. “Come on,” Rick ordered once more. “I can’t carry you.”
Numbly, Yelina nodded in agreement. On legs uneasy, she got out of the car, her heels scuffing on the driveway. And though it probably wasn’t smart to go down this territory again, the brunette instinctively reached out for his hand. Thankfully, the dark-haired man laced his fingers through her own.
Perhaps he thought she was going to fall. But the truth was she just… needed that little bit of contact right now. Without it, she felt lost, like the world had suddenly begun to spin in a different direction.
He led her up to the house and used her keys to get inside. Normally when she came home, the moment she stepped through the front door made her feel like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Yelina had never considered herself a home body, but… after everything with Ray and her job and constantly moving, being inside the place where her family lived meant something. It… grounded her, renewed that feeling of purpose, and she didn’t feel quite so lost.
But not today. Not now. Not when her own family seemed hell bent on destroying itself with secrets.
How could Horatio do it? How had he allowed this lie to continue for so long, she wondered.
And she realized, as Rick said, “I’m gonna call for a cab,” that she really didn’t want to hear her brother-in-law’s answers. Because nothing he could say would make her feel better or any less betrayed.
Silently, save for the sound of her heels on the tile, the brunette followed Rick into the kitchen. He’d been right the whole time about Horatio.
He’d said that the redhead wasn’t perfect, that he hurt her and put her life at risk too many times. But Yelina had refused to listen at the time.
Rick had been right all along.
The weight of the realization forced her to sit uneasily in one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
Now it seemed ridiculous for her to have ever doubted his words. Because not even her loyalty, her love, had stopped Horatio from doing this, and it killed her to admit that none of it seemed to matter to her brother-in-law.
And the brunette could no longer trust the idea that the redhead was just insecure with his own feelings or that he would eventually come around. She didn’t want him to come around, anymore. Whatever allure he had once held seemed to be destroyed now.
On the other hand…
Her eyes slid over to Rick, who was standing in her kitchen, her phone cradled between his ear and shoulder. Odd though it was, Yelina felt as though she were seeing the dark-haired man in a whole new light.
When they’d dated, there had been the constant pressure, it seemed, from Horatio to break up with him. The redhead had rarely said anything, but the sister-in-law knew he didn’t approve. He talked about giving her space, giving her time. And in reality, it had felt like she was being punished for dating Stetler.
Because of that, there had always been a sense of shame for her, a conflict between being with someone she cared about and doing what Horatio wanted. Yelina mentally tried to count the number of times she’d fought with Rick over something her brother-in-law had done or said.
Too many times to count, she supposed.
But without that influence, the brunette wondered… what would their relationship have been like? What could it have been like?
Yelina wasn’t so naïve to think that everything would have been perfect. Stetler could still be an ass, and she had her temper as well. They were a volatile mix at times, but maybe… it didn’t have to be that way.
She let out a soft groan, the sound catching the attention of the man in her kitchen. He started to walk towards her.
No, the brunette told herself. She was not going down that road. There had been a reason they broke up. Reasons that had nothing to do with Horatio or anyone outside of her relationship with Rick. Reaching up, she pressed the palm of her hand hard against her forehead.
She was not going to date this man again, wasn’t going to think about this anymore.
But the thought was forced from her mind as Rick stepped behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Almost immediately, his fingers began to knead the tense area, but it did little to make her feel better. Instead, the action seemed to only fuel her ambivalence.
“I can’t believe this,” he said, sounding slightly irritated.
Craning her head upward to see what he was talking about, Yelina could feel her curls cascade over his fingertips, the ringlets becoming trapped between the back of the chair and his body.
The concern must have shown in her eyes, because Rick lightly stroked the soft olive flesh of her cheek.
It was a reminder of one thing the brunette had liked about him when they had been together. Generally speaking, she hated men who tried to take care of her; it always felt so demeaning. And there were many times where Stetler had tried to gain control, and she’d resented that. But there were also moments where it just felt right to give him control. To let him take over, if only because he looked sexier when he did.
And right now, in this particular instance, his almost smarmy paternalism felt nice. Perhaps it was a mistake to lean on someone at a time like this - when she was reeling from another’s betrayal. Part of her mind felt like she’d learned nothing at all if she were so willing to turn to Rick.
However, Yelina found herself continually gravitating towards him, and maybe that was because she liked - envied - his clear worldview. Jealousy, that he never once had been duped by Horatio, spread through her like an intoxicating drug. It made her feel so much more compliant to anything Rick wanted from her. And the danger she somehow knew lay ahead seemed completely unimportant at the moment. Not when he was being so gentle and good to her.
“They have me on hold,” he finally explained.
Her lips formed an o in understanding, but no sound came out. And, as the person on the other end of the line answered his call, Yelina looked back down at her manicured hands, which were lying flat on the table.
She shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t be interested in Rick again. Especially after he’d hit her. After all, the detective in her… had seen too many times how those situations never changed. The dark-haired man had said that he was in anger management, but the truth was… Yelina couldn’t believe that he would change immediately. Or anytime soon for that matter.
In the simplest terms possible, she told herself that he’d hit her before. And he would… do it again, and everyone the brunette might talk to about this would say that her decision was easy. Probably that there was no real decision at all.
But it seemed so hard right now to say no to him, even though Yelina supposed he wasn’t really asking.
As he told the cab company her address, she had to brace herself against her chair, forced herself to stay where she was. Because the temptation to get up and throw herself back into that relationship was almost too much to bear.
And yet, when Rick hung up the phone, Yelina didn’t bother to try and stifle the words that flew from her mouth. Her voice was low, “You asked me earlier… why I didn’t go to Horatio for help.”
His hands rubbed her shoulders as he told her, “You don’t need to -”
“Well, I’m offering to,” she said testily. His fingers sliding through her hair, Rick took a seat at the table next to her. “I thought he was dead… I thought Ray was gone. And then…” She searched for the words. “The man who shot my husband was found dead, and it turned out… Ray might be alive after all.”
Though it was impossible, her mouth seemed to fill with the bitterness she felt. “And I guess everybody else learned about that as well, because then Ray Junior was kidnapped to bring Ray out of hiding.”
“I remember,” Rick said.
She brushed a curl out of her face. “After it was over… well, Horatio never said so, but I thought… I thought that my husband had died again. And then Horatio said that I deserved a vacation, and…” She trailed off, not sure she should tell Stetler this part of the story.
“And what?” He reached over for her hand. “What happened?” the dark-haired man asked.
She hesitated for a moment. The truth was something she had no doubt that he would hate. “I thought we were going to go together,” Yelina confessed.
Looking at him, the brunette watched as the words sank in. His face contorted from one of confusion to surprise and eventually suppressed anger. He jerked his hand away from hers. And she’d known the rejection would hurt, that the disappointment would sting, but… it still almost took her breath away.
“Well, I guess that answers my question about how quickly you moved on, doesn’t it?” he sneered.
“No,” she countered, desperate to explain. “It’s not like that, Rick.”
“Really? Because it sounds to me like we broke up, and then the man that you finally wanted came around, and you jumped -”
“I did not ‘jump,’” she snapped. And before they could go another round, Yelina continued. “I didn’t! Believe me - I did not just move on like you think.” She bit down on her lip. “Whether you actually believe me or not, our relationship meant something to me. It still means something to me.”
“Sure.”
“I mean that, Rick! You weren’t just some… man I dated. I loved you, and I brought you into my home. I let you tuck my son into bed at night. How could that not mean something to me?”
He sighed and seemed to have given up the fight. “So Horatio asked you to go away with him.”
“In… not so many words, yes. And I agreed,” she said. “Not because I was ready for another relationship, because I really wasn’t… but he asked me. And I said yes, because I was honestly in need of a vacation.”
Stetler smirked. “And you were afraid Mr. Dreamboat would never ask again if you said no.”
“Yes.”
That he didn’t hit her right away, Yelina thought, was a good sign. Because sadly she had expected him to. After all, Rick had been suspicious of her feelings for Horatio for years; it was, she thought, probably one reason why he’d been so happy to date her. Which was ironic, because to anyone else, it would seem unlikely that two men who hated one another could want the same thing. And yet, she knew it wasn’t, because... just as Horatio had taken the title of lieutenant from Rick, Stetler had decided to claim her instead.
Yet she had always denied the accusation - that she was in love with Horatio. The brunette had always said that she respected her brother-in-law, loved him, because he was family, but not because she was attracted to him. And Rick had never really believed the lie, but then again, he rarely seemed intent on getting the truth from her. Perhaps it had scared him - to know for certain that his girlfriend wanted another man.
When the dark-haired man sitting across from her said nothing, she continued. “So… I went with him - and my son - to the airport. And there he was: Ray.” She reached forward and grasped his hand. “I couldn’t ask Horatio for help, because he was the one who orchestrated the whole thing.”
Stetler didn’t pull away, which she took to be a good sign. But his words bit into her. “If you didn’t want to go, you didn’t have to.”
“But I did!” she cried. “Ray Junior saw his father,and… I have tried for years to make up for that absence in his life. I have told myself so many times how okay we were doing, just the two of us.” The tears glistened in her eyes, making it hard to see, but Yelina was determined not to let them fall. “When my son hit the tarmac, it was like seeing this whole other side to him that I thought was gone. He was… happy in a way that I can barely remember him being.”
“So you got on the plane.”
“Of course, I did!” she said, acting as though there were no other options. Probably because she didn’t think there were. “I was not ready for that - to suddenly be… Mrs. Raymond Caine again, but I did it. For my child… what else was I supposed to do?”
Yelina looked away from him, holding her breath and awaiting his answer. But none ever came, and some part of her let out a sigh of relief. That Rick had no… immediate come back, no solution that she should have seen, put her somewhat at ease.
At the same time, though, there was a little piece of her that would like to know there had been some alternative. Weird though it was, the brunette needed to believe that… if she’d done something differently, she would have been able to avoid that year in Rio. She needed to know that she hadn’t been destined to lose her husband again, fated to lose the closeness with her brother-in-law and son.
Maybe there was no point in knowing how things could have been different, she conceded. But… accepting that Yelina had had no choice in what happened, that she had been doomed to lose nearly everything because of her husband? It would fill her with a sadness she couldn’t bear to feel. And worse than that, she’d feel helpless, completely inept at protecting her family.
So there just simply had to have been a way… but what could it be?
What was she supposed to do? What did she do wrong?
How was she to protect her family?
End (26/??)