No Other One, Chapter 38
Title: No Other One, Chapter 38
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, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35, Chapter 36, and Chapter 37.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“The most important of life’s battles is the one we fight daily in the silent chambers of the soul.” - David McKay
In complete contrast to the previous day, the morning got off to a smooth and drama-free start. Ray Junior had not (thankfully) shaved his head, nor did his dark curls turn into a makeshift leash for Yelina to drag him to school with. All in all, the brunette thought, the morning had progressed so far without incident, and for that, she was grateful.
Of course that would probably change, Yelina realized, as she slipped on a pair of black heels. When she’d quit her job, her boss had originally demanded two more weeks of work. And the brunette hadn’t thought of it as an odd request at all, but it wasn’t exactly one she’d wanted to fulfill. P.I. work was dangerous, more so than she’d originally wanted to admit, and the longer she stayed in it, the more likely, it seemed, that something would happen.
Ironically it had been Kyle Harmon, the boy who had changed everything, who made her want to quit this job. Looking at his case file had been a wake up call for her, and she’d finally been able to see what it was Horatio and her son had been so afraid of. And now that Ray Junior didn’t trust her brother-in-law… getting out now seemed more important than ever.
So late in the previous night, Yelina had called her employer, desperate to abandon the job she’d taken barely over a year ago. Whether it was lucky or unlucky for her that he’d made a deal with her, she wasn’t sure at the moment. He’d agreed to release her from two weeks’ worth of work in exchange for spying on his wife, whom he suspected of cheating.
Tucking a few curls behind her ears, Yelina couldn’t help but think that this single job was going to be more dangerous than anything else she would come across in two weeks. Following ex-convicts and people suspected of crimes was one thing; getting involved in family disputes was something else entirely.
If anyone understood how messy those kinds of entanglements could be, it was her. And she could only hope, as she wiped a stray bit of lipstick off of her full lip, that nothing would go wrong today.
But it was clearly not meant to be.
As she opened the front door to leave the house, Yelina was stopped dead in her tracks by the man in front of her.
“Rick.” The surprise in her voice was obvious, almost as much as the smirk forming on his face. Unable to stop herself, the brunette could feel her eyes widen.
Granted, he’d said he would call her (he hadn’t), but there seemed to be no reason for him to show up on her door step.
And if the reasoning behind that didn’t seem obvious, then there was absolutely no explaining what he did next. As Yelina opened her mouth to ask why he was there, Rick closed the small distance between them. He was so close to her that she could practically feel the warmth (not to mention the lust) radiating off of his skin. His eyes were filled with intent, so dark that their normally brown color looked black to her.
Not a fraction of a second seemed to pass before his lips descended onto hers, capturing them in a passionate kiss so unlike the one they’d shared yesterday. Her question was all but forgotten, swallowed whole by his desire for her. Just as his tongue demanded entrance, so too did the thought niggle in the back of her mind that this wasn’t right.
She should pull away, should push him backwards. But the way his lips pressed against her own, the desire held within the motion, was too intoxicating to fight. Her resistance broken, Yelina found herself pulling Rick closer. Her hands tangling in his dark hair, she brought him nearer still.
But the kiss could not go on forever, and perhaps ironically, it was Stetler who pulled away first. The smirk on his face had turned into a grin at her own lack of control, and immediately, she regretted it.
Tucking a curl behind her ear, Yelina cleared her throat and finally asked the question that had plagued her mind. “What are you doing here?” The accusation in her voice only seemed to make his smile widen.
It was then that he held up both of his hands, revealing the cups of coffee in them. “Brought you a latte.”
Greedily, the brunette took the white cup from his hands. There was no denying that this was a bribe of sorts. But at the moment, Yelina was more than willing to be tempted with caffeine; yesterday had left her exhausted, and a single night’s sleep had only so much restorative power. Taking a tentative sip on the hot beverage, she savored the way the rich liquid felt against her tongue before swallowing. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Rick nodded his head and drank from his own cup. “I also think we need to talk… about yesterday.”
Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but groan. “I don’t want to -”
“I changed my mind, Ellie,” he admitted.
Yelina scowled at the nickname. “I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.”
His free hand snaked around her hip, possessively grabbing her. “You’re not listening to me,” he said in a voice that held only a hint of teasing. “I said I didn’t want to… get back together, but I’ve been thinking about it since then…” Rick didn’t add anymore, and he didn’t need to. The way his eyes gazed at her intently was enough for her to see what he wanted. And between the walls of the front foyer and Rick himself, Yelina couldn’t help but feel trapped. Dread began to knot itself in her blood, forcing itself through her entire body painfully. “I want a relationship with you, Yelina.”
Her lips parted, forming an o in shock. What she should say in response, the brunette didn’t know. While it was true that she’d wanted him back yesterday, her words and feelings had been guided by her anger towards Horatio. It had been wrong to use Rick in that way, she knew it. Had known it. Yelina should have been smarter, should have pushed him away, but… what was done was done, and now she would need to find a way to let Rick down easily without incurring his wrath.
“Rick…” But the words she wanted would not come, which, she thought ruefully, was becoming a common occurrence for her these days.
“Now look,” he said, raising a hand to halt her. “I know that we’ve had our problems. But I just think that if we were to talk about -”
“Well, I can’t talk now,” Yelina responded quickly, glad for the way out. Glancing down at her watch dramatically, she explained, “I have work.”
“But you haven’t passed the tests required to get you reinstated,” Rick said accusingly.
“I mean my other job, Rick. I’ve been hired to follow a woman for the day. And if I don’t leave soon, I won’t be able to do that.” The irritation was evident in her voice, and honestly Yelina couldn’t have been more pleased about that.
Yet the dark-haired man did not leave, much to her dismay. “I’ll come with you then.”
“You can’t -”
“You just said you’re watching someone,” he argued lightly. “You’re not interviewing people; I don’t have to work today. It’s perfect - I’ll keep you company.”
The “I don’t want your company” she wanted to hurl back at him was dancing along the tip of her tongue, ready to be said. But she held back. Because, while it would temporarily make her feel better, it wouldn’t end the conversation; things like that never had.
Rick would see it as proof that Yelina was looking for a fight. And knowing him, proclamations of anger management or no, he would give her one.
Faced with that prospect, all the brunette could say was, “Fine. Come with me. But I’m driving.”
He nodded his head in agreement and watched on as she locked the front door. Yelina understood she was giving him exactly what he wanted, even if it was only temporary. But this way she’d be able to do her job for the last time… and hopefully find some way to tell Rick that she no longer wanted him.
As Yelina started the car, she wondered if she’d be able to tell him without completely obliterating the tentative ceasefire they’d established. One look at Stetler, though, and she knew it would be impossible. That just wasn’t how they worked.
Resigned to her fate, she pulled out of her driveway, Rick and dread her only companions.
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Horatio sighed tiredly as he looked through the file’s contents once more. Unable to sleep more than a few hours, the redhead had gotten up especially early. The pending meeting with social services had made him nervous, forcing his mind to work despite the hour.
He’d tried to console his own fears with the knowledge that it was either his home or jail for Kyle. The plea bargain had stated as much, and Horatio doubted anyone would think that prison was the better choice.
But knowing that hadn’t staved off the fear that something horrible would happen. What if they asked him a question the redhead couldn’t answer? He barely knew anything about his son, after all. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities that they would ask him about things his son liked or did - which Horatio had no clue about.
What if they asked Horatio about his past? About his father and mother or his wife? That alone made the redhead feel sick to his stomach. On any given day, he wouldn’t want to talk about it. But now, now when his answers would matter, when he would be judged as a parent by what he said… it terrified him.
What if they asked about the bruises on his son’s face, which Horatio himself had caused?
In his own mind, there was no justification for it. Yes, he’d been in the middle of an interrogation; yes, he’d been so angry by what the boy had done to Yelina. But none of those circumstances seemed to matter anymore. And they certainly wouldn’t be a factor for social services. All they would hear is Horatio had assaulted his own son, and they would decide his parenting was not something the boy could benefit from.
Unable to change or ignore that fact, the redhead had decided, in the very least, he could work hard to know something about Kyle Harmon. Obviously, at 5:30 in the morning, the teenager hadn’t been awake. But Horatio still had the file his sister-in-law had copied for him. It had given him pause, when he’d pulled the file out of his desk drawer - the fact that Yelina was the one who had given him this.
Ever since he’d known her and… found himself wanting her, Horatio had tried to deny it, had tried to push her out of his life. When they’d been working together, that had been almost impossible. But after she’d returned from Rio, it had been easier to ignore her. So much so that over the past year, the redhead had barely seen the woman at all. It had been… cruel perhaps to leave her alone, to box himself off like that. After Marisol’s death, though… he hadn’t been - wasn’t - sure he could open himself up again.
But the fact of the matter was it hadn’t mattered that he’d tried to push Yelina away; he’d needed her, depended on her, and that was more evident now than ever. Because without her help, the father wouldn’t even have this file. And while it was hardly a comprehensive guide to his son, it would contain, he had realized, everything social services would know.
Obsessively Horatio read and reread all the materials in the manila folder. Birth date, social security number, the names of all of his previous foster parents - those things were easily remembered and stored in the back of his mind. Other kinds of information, the schools Kyle had attended, his grades, and the sports he’d played, took longer to remember. But that too eventually layered with the other facts Horatio had learned.
And there was the other stuff, the things that the redhead wished hadn’t happened but refused to forget or ignore. Reading once again about Julia’s murder and the year of silence for Kyle that had followed was difficult - to say the least. Each and every gory detail made Horatio wonder if social services would blame him for his son’s horrific past. They could - probably even should - blame him for it. After all, if he’d known his kid existed, none of that would have happened. Which made the redhead ask himself: if he felt this guilty about his son’s childhood, how much did Kyle blame him for it?
It was a question Horatio hoped never to have the answer to.
Maybe, of course, if Kyle didn’t blame him, he would want to know. But the chances of that seemed so unlikely that the redhead decided to err on the side of caution. What he didn’t know in this instance wouldn’t hurt him, and he was… okay with that. Content, no, as Horatio was sure the question would gnaw at him until he did ask the boy. But for now, anyway, not knowing was for the best, and the redhead didn’t feel the urgent need to pick the scab.
As quickly as he could, Horatio read the file once more. And after doing so, the redhead finally felt as though he had a good grasp of its contents. He could name every foster parent, every school, every extracurricular activity, and every psychologist the boy had been to. Which was probably more than an overworked social worker could do, he thought happily. And in his mind, Horatio began coming up with all the potential answers to the questions social services might ask him.
What euphemisms would work, what details to leave out in his story - it all needed to be perfect. The redhead told himself that he wouldn’t be lying to social services by giving them a… select version of events. He was merely doing what he needed to do to make sure that Kyle’s custody wouldn’t hit a snag.
But it wasn’t just what he would say, but how he would say it. For each answer he would give, Horatio went through the motions of when he would pause, when he would give a sympathetic head tilt, and the like. For a brief moment, he debated tears, but… the redhead wasn’t sure he could do that on command. And that might be a little too much, so he decided against it just as Kyle woke up and made his presence known.
It wasn’t intentional, of course. But Horatio couldn’t help but hear the sound of the boy’s tired feet shuffling lazily against the floor in the hallway. Quickly hiding the file in a drawer, the redhead got up, leaving the study.
Kyle was headed towards the kitchen and, with his back turned, was unable to see Horatio. So the man spoke up. “Morning,” he said tentatively.
The teenager turned around as quickly as he could in his still sleepy state. “Hey.”
“You sleep okay?”
“Yeah.”
The conversation lulled uncomfortably as it seemed to always do when Horatio was talking to the boy. And briefly, the redhead wondered if that would ever change.
It had to, he decided. They couldn’t always be this awkward around one another. Especially not when they both continued to stand there, looking at one another, waiting for the other to say or do something. At some point, Horatio decided, they would have to get past this. Something would have to change eventually, right? “Are you still up for going to social services today?” he asked finally.
Kyle shrugged. “Yeah… I guess.”
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine,” Horatio tried to reassure. “But I think the longer we put this off -”
“Then lets do it today,” the teenager interrupted, nodding his head in agreement. “Just tell me what to say, and I’ll say it.” The words weren’t meant to insult, but somehow it did hurt the redhead. Because it was just another reminder that the father-son pair were as good as strangers.
“Be honest,” he told Kyle. Granted the man didn’t exactly plan on following his own advice, but Horatio thought it would go over far worse if his delinquent son were the one lying. “This situation isn’t perfect… but it’s better than jail.”
“I know,” the teenager said quietly.
Well at least they could agree on that, Horatio thought sadly. And he wanted to tell the teenager that they would get through this, that they would… be able to be a family and love one another and help each other. There were so many things the redhead wanted to say. But he felt unable to do so, felt his mouth wield shut at the thought of uttering all the tiny reassurances he wanted to offer.
Something inside of himself refused to loosen so that he could tell the boy what he felt. And maybe, Horatio hoped, that would lessen with time, that eventually he would be able to talk to his son in a way that mattered. But part of him feared that it would always be this way. After all, it had always been this uncomfortable with his father. If anything, the more time they had spent together, the more horrible the relationship had become. And perhaps that inability to parent had been passed onto the redhead himself.
Pushing the unwanted thought into the recesses of his mind, Horatio changed the subject. “Are you hungry?” When the blond shrugged, Horatio offered, “I don’t have much, but I can make us eggs… if you want.”
“Yeah, that’s cool.”
And so breakfast came and went, the silence between them even more prominent than it had been the night before. The passing of time seemed slow to the redhead at first, but before he knew it, they were driving to social services.
Once there, as they got out of the car, Horatio reminded Kyle, “Whatever you do, tell them the truth. Lying… will not help us.”
“Yeah,” the blond responded as they began walking towards the white brick building.
Once again, Horatio wished he could offer his son some words of encouragement. But what should he say? How could he ease Kyle’s fears when he himself was absolutely terrified that this wouldn’t go well?
So, again, he decided to say nothing until they were standing in front of a receptionist’s desk, asking to talk to Kyle’s social worker. “Take a seat,” the kind-looking woman told them. “She’s in today; I’ll see if we can’t fit you in.”
The two waited for over an hour, sitting in the most uncomfortable chairs imaginable. They were made of metal and padded just enough to give the illusion of comfort until a person actually sat in one. And as a result, Horatio and Kyle shifted around frequently, looking, the redhead thought, like two people trying to defraud the entire foster care system. Which, in a way, they were, and knowing how it looked made the wait seem infinitely longer.
But there was a moment in that hour that belied the truth - at least Horatio hoped so - as well. It was in this brief flit of time that the redhead himself believed there was hope for his family. He asked Kyle if it suited him to go out to lunch after this and then shopping. “The bags you packed at your foster home were light. And I thought that… maybe buy some new things would give you a fresh start.”
The almost enthusiastic nodding of the boy’s head was the first sign of emotion the blond had shown since he’d moved in. And it gave Horatio some relief to see it, even if some part of him doubted it.
After all, Kyle had acted so differently in front Yelina, which was similar but not quite the same as how he’d acted during the police interrogation. And that was completely unlike how he’d acted in court or at the foster family’s house or even last night. All these different personalities seemed so incongruous with one another, and the redhead had no idea which ones were real. And as much as he would like to believe that this - the grateful, almost cheery side - was real, Horatio couldn’t know for sure. Especially since they were in front of other people who would ultimately judge their rightness for one another.
And it wasn’t that the redhead couldn’t appreciate that as motivation for faking it. Because Horatio himself questioned his own actions. Had he offered the items out of concern or because he thought it would look good? Deep down inside, the man conceded that it was more than likely both. But even so… a willingness to lie to stay together meant something.
Well, Horatio hoped so anyway.
Finally, though, Kyle’s social worker did appear. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I wasn’t expecting you,” she said in a kindly, but frank voice. “Lucky for you, though, one of my cases has been postponed. So we can definitely take care of this today, all right Kyle and…”
“Horatio Caine,” the redhead offered. “I am the… biological father,” he said, tripping over the words. That hadn’t been something he’d planned on doing. But, despite going over what he was going to say a million times, he hadn’t quite understood just how powerful those words would be to hear once more. Each and every time he announced himself as Kyle’s father, it made more sense, as well as less - which Horatio couldn’t understand at all.
He had a son.
And part of him deep inside understood that, knew that it was right. But the rest of him found the whole thing to be painfully awkward and nonsensical, like a peanut butter and jelly omelet. Or something just as disgusting and bizarre.
“Excellent,” the woman said, seemingly ignoring the slip of his tongue. “I’m Clarissa Bennett, and I’ve handled your son’s case for almost five years now.”
“Yes,” he said, nodding his head. “I recognize your name from the files I’ve read.”
Again she said, “Excellent. Well… I have another case at one pm, so we’ll need to keep this short - but then again, I don’t see any reason at the moment why you two shouldn’t remain a family. So I’ll interview the two of you separately, and then we’ll see where we are, all right?”
Both Kyle and Horatio nodded their heads.
“Good. Mr. Caine, how about we start with you?”
And though he nodded his head agreeably, Horatio couldn’t help but feel as though he were about to face the firing squad.
End (39/??)
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, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29, Chapter 30, Chapter 31, Chapter 32, Chapter 33, Chapter 34, Chapter 35, Chapter 36, and Chapter 37.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“The most important of life’s battles is the one we fight daily in the silent chambers of the soul.” - David McKay
In complete contrast to the previous day, the morning got off to a smooth and drama-free start. Ray Junior had not (thankfully) shaved his head, nor did his dark curls turn into a makeshift leash for Yelina to drag him to school with. All in all, the brunette thought, the morning had progressed so far without incident, and for that, she was grateful.
Of course that would probably change, Yelina realized, as she slipped on a pair of black heels. When she’d quit her job, her boss had originally demanded two more weeks of work. And the brunette hadn’t thought of it as an odd request at all, but it wasn’t exactly one she’d wanted to fulfill. P.I. work was dangerous, more so than she’d originally wanted to admit, and the longer she stayed in it, the more likely, it seemed, that something would happen.
Ironically it had been Kyle Harmon, the boy who had changed everything, who made her want to quit this job. Looking at his case file had been a wake up call for her, and she’d finally been able to see what it was Horatio and her son had been so afraid of. And now that Ray Junior didn’t trust her brother-in-law… getting out now seemed more important than ever.
So late in the previous night, Yelina had called her employer, desperate to abandon the job she’d taken barely over a year ago. Whether it was lucky or unlucky for her that he’d made a deal with her, she wasn’t sure at the moment. He’d agreed to release her from two weeks’ worth of work in exchange for spying on his wife, whom he suspected of cheating.
Tucking a few curls behind her ears, Yelina couldn’t help but think that this single job was going to be more dangerous than anything else she would come across in two weeks. Following ex-convicts and people suspected of crimes was one thing; getting involved in family disputes was something else entirely.
If anyone understood how messy those kinds of entanglements could be, it was her. And she could only hope, as she wiped a stray bit of lipstick off of her full lip, that nothing would go wrong today.
But it was clearly not meant to be.
As she opened the front door to leave the house, Yelina was stopped dead in her tracks by the man in front of her.
“Rick.” The surprise in her voice was obvious, almost as much as the smirk forming on his face. Unable to stop herself, the brunette could feel her eyes widen.
Granted, he’d said he would call her (he hadn’t), but there seemed to be no reason for him to show up on her door step.
And if the reasoning behind that didn’t seem obvious, then there was absolutely no explaining what he did next. As Yelina opened her mouth to ask why he was there, Rick closed the small distance between them. He was so close to her that she could practically feel the warmth (not to mention the lust) radiating off of his skin. His eyes were filled with intent, so dark that their normally brown color looked black to her.
Not a fraction of a second seemed to pass before his lips descended onto hers, capturing them in a passionate kiss so unlike the one they’d shared yesterday. Her question was all but forgotten, swallowed whole by his desire for her. Just as his tongue demanded entrance, so too did the thought niggle in the back of her mind that this wasn’t right.
She should pull away, should push him backwards. But the way his lips pressed against her own, the desire held within the motion, was too intoxicating to fight. Her resistance broken, Yelina found herself pulling Rick closer. Her hands tangling in his dark hair, she brought him nearer still.
But the kiss could not go on forever, and perhaps ironically, it was Stetler who pulled away first. The smirk on his face had turned into a grin at her own lack of control, and immediately, she regretted it.
Tucking a curl behind her ear, Yelina cleared her throat and finally asked the question that had plagued her mind. “What are you doing here?” The accusation in her voice only seemed to make his smile widen.
It was then that he held up both of his hands, revealing the cups of coffee in them. “Brought you a latte.”
Greedily, the brunette took the white cup from his hands. There was no denying that this was a bribe of sorts. But at the moment, Yelina was more than willing to be tempted with caffeine; yesterday had left her exhausted, and a single night’s sleep had only so much restorative power. Taking a tentative sip on the hot beverage, she savored the way the rich liquid felt against her tongue before swallowing. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Rick nodded his head and drank from his own cup. “I also think we need to talk… about yesterday.”
Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but groan. “I don’t want to -”
“I changed my mind, Ellie,” he admitted.
Yelina scowled at the nickname. “I really wish you wouldn’t call me that.”
His free hand snaked around her hip, possessively grabbing her. “You’re not listening to me,” he said in a voice that held only a hint of teasing. “I said I didn’t want to… get back together, but I’ve been thinking about it since then…” Rick didn’t add anymore, and he didn’t need to. The way his eyes gazed at her intently was enough for her to see what he wanted. And between the walls of the front foyer and Rick himself, Yelina couldn’t help but feel trapped. Dread began to knot itself in her blood, forcing itself through her entire body painfully. “I want a relationship with you, Yelina.”
Her lips parted, forming an o in shock. What she should say in response, the brunette didn’t know. While it was true that she’d wanted him back yesterday, her words and feelings had been guided by her anger towards Horatio. It had been wrong to use Rick in that way, she knew it. Had known it. Yelina should have been smarter, should have pushed him away, but… what was done was done, and now she would need to find a way to let Rick down easily without incurring his wrath.
“Rick…” But the words she wanted would not come, which, she thought ruefully, was becoming a common occurrence for her these days.
“Now look,” he said, raising a hand to halt her. “I know that we’ve had our problems. But I just think that if we were to talk about -”
“Well, I can’t talk now,” Yelina responded quickly, glad for the way out. Glancing down at her watch dramatically, she explained, “I have work.”
“But you haven’t passed the tests required to get you reinstated,” Rick said accusingly.
“I mean my other job, Rick. I’ve been hired to follow a woman for the day. And if I don’t leave soon, I won’t be able to do that.” The irritation was evident in her voice, and honestly Yelina couldn’t have been more pleased about that.
Yet the dark-haired man did not leave, much to her dismay. “I’ll come with you then.”
“You can’t -”
“You just said you’re watching someone,” he argued lightly. “You’re not interviewing people; I don’t have to work today. It’s perfect - I’ll keep you company.”
The “I don’t want your company” she wanted to hurl back at him was dancing along the tip of her tongue, ready to be said. But she held back. Because, while it would temporarily make her feel better, it wouldn’t end the conversation; things like that never had.
Rick would see it as proof that Yelina was looking for a fight. And knowing him, proclamations of anger management or no, he would give her one.
Faced with that prospect, all the brunette could say was, “Fine. Come with me. But I’m driving.”
He nodded his head in agreement and watched on as she locked the front door. Yelina understood she was giving him exactly what he wanted, even if it was only temporary. But this way she’d be able to do her job for the last time… and hopefully find some way to tell Rick that she no longer wanted him.
As Yelina started the car, she wondered if she’d be able to tell him without completely obliterating the tentative ceasefire they’d established. One look at Stetler, though, and she knew it would be impossible. That just wasn’t how they worked.
Resigned to her fate, she pulled out of her driveway, Rick and dread her only companions.
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Horatio sighed tiredly as he looked through the file’s contents once more. Unable to sleep more than a few hours, the redhead had gotten up especially early. The pending meeting with social services had made him nervous, forcing his mind to work despite the hour.
He’d tried to console his own fears with the knowledge that it was either his home or jail for Kyle. The plea bargain had stated as much, and Horatio doubted anyone would think that prison was the better choice.
But knowing that hadn’t staved off the fear that something horrible would happen. What if they asked him a question the redhead couldn’t answer? He barely knew anything about his son, after all. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities that they would ask him about things his son liked or did - which Horatio had no clue about.
What if they asked Horatio about his past? About his father and mother or his wife? That alone made the redhead feel sick to his stomach. On any given day, he wouldn’t want to talk about it. But now, now when his answers would matter, when he would be judged as a parent by what he said… it terrified him.
What if they asked about the bruises on his son’s face, which Horatio himself had caused?
In his own mind, there was no justification for it. Yes, he’d been in the middle of an interrogation; yes, he’d been so angry by what the boy had done to Yelina. But none of those circumstances seemed to matter anymore. And they certainly wouldn’t be a factor for social services. All they would hear is Horatio had assaulted his own son, and they would decide his parenting was not something the boy could benefit from.
Unable to change or ignore that fact, the redhead had decided, in the very least, he could work hard to know something about Kyle Harmon. Obviously, at 5:30 in the morning, the teenager hadn’t been awake. But Horatio still had the file his sister-in-law had copied for him. It had given him pause, when he’d pulled the file out of his desk drawer - the fact that Yelina was the one who had given him this.
Ever since he’d known her and… found himself wanting her, Horatio had tried to deny it, had tried to push her out of his life. When they’d been working together, that had been almost impossible. But after she’d returned from Rio, it had been easier to ignore her. So much so that over the past year, the redhead had barely seen the woman at all. It had been… cruel perhaps to leave her alone, to box himself off like that. After Marisol’s death, though… he hadn’t been - wasn’t - sure he could open himself up again.
But the fact of the matter was it hadn’t mattered that he’d tried to push Yelina away; he’d needed her, depended on her, and that was more evident now than ever. Because without her help, the father wouldn’t even have this file. And while it was hardly a comprehensive guide to his son, it would contain, he had realized, everything social services would know.
Obsessively Horatio read and reread all the materials in the manila folder. Birth date, social security number, the names of all of his previous foster parents - those things were easily remembered and stored in the back of his mind. Other kinds of information, the schools Kyle had attended, his grades, and the sports he’d played, took longer to remember. But that too eventually layered with the other facts Horatio had learned.
And there was the other stuff, the things that the redhead wished hadn’t happened but refused to forget or ignore. Reading once again about Julia’s murder and the year of silence for Kyle that had followed was difficult - to say the least. Each and every gory detail made Horatio wonder if social services would blame him for his son’s horrific past. They could - probably even should - blame him for it. After all, if he’d known his kid existed, none of that would have happened. Which made the redhead ask himself: if he felt this guilty about his son’s childhood, how much did Kyle blame him for it?
It was a question Horatio hoped never to have the answer to.
Maybe, of course, if Kyle didn’t blame him, he would want to know. But the chances of that seemed so unlikely that the redhead decided to err on the side of caution. What he didn’t know in this instance wouldn’t hurt him, and he was… okay with that. Content, no, as Horatio was sure the question would gnaw at him until he did ask the boy. But for now, anyway, not knowing was for the best, and the redhead didn’t feel the urgent need to pick the scab.
As quickly as he could, Horatio read the file once more. And after doing so, the redhead finally felt as though he had a good grasp of its contents. He could name every foster parent, every school, every extracurricular activity, and every psychologist the boy had been to. Which was probably more than an overworked social worker could do, he thought happily. And in his mind, Horatio began coming up with all the potential answers to the questions social services might ask him.
What euphemisms would work, what details to leave out in his story - it all needed to be perfect. The redhead told himself that he wouldn’t be lying to social services by giving them a… select version of events. He was merely doing what he needed to do to make sure that Kyle’s custody wouldn’t hit a snag.
But it wasn’t just what he would say, but how he would say it. For each answer he would give, Horatio went through the motions of when he would pause, when he would give a sympathetic head tilt, and the like. For a brief moment, he debated tears, but… the redhead wasn’t sure he could do that on command. And that might be a little too much, so he decided against it just as Kyle woke up and made his presence known.
It wasn’t intentional, of course. But Horatio couldn’t help but hear the sound of the boy’s tired feet shuffling lazily against the floor in the hallway. Quickly hiding the file in a drawer, the redhead got up, leaving the study.
Kyle was headed towards the kitchen and, with his back turned, was unable to see Horatio. So the man spoke up. “Morning,” he said tentatively.
The teenager turned around as quickly as he could in his still sleepy state. “Hey.”
“You sleep okay?”
“Yeah.”
The conversation lulled uncomfortably as it seemed to always do when Horatio was talking to the boy. And briefly, the redhead wondered if that would ever change.
It had to, he decided. They couldn’t always be this awkward around one another. Especially not when they both continued to stand there, looking at one another, waiting for the other to say or do something. At some point, Horatio decided, they would have to get past this. Something would have to change eventually, right? “Are you still up for going to social services today?” he asked finally.
Kyle shrugged. “Yeah… I guess.”
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine,” Horatio tried to reassure. “But I think the longer we put this off -”
“Then lets do it today,” the teenager interrupted, nodding his head in agreement. “Just tell me what to say, and I’ll say it.” The words weren’t meant to insult, but somehow it did hurt the redhead. Because it was just another reminder that the father-son pair were as good as strangers.
“Be honest,” he told Kyle. Granted the man didn’t exactly plan on following his own advice, but Horatio thought it would go over far worse if his delinquent son were the one lying. “This situation isn’t perfect… but it’s better than jail.”
“I know,” the teenager said quietly.
Well at least they could agree on that, Horatio thought sadly. And he wanted to tell the teenager that they would get through this, that they would… be able to be a family and love one another and help each other. There were so many things the redhead wanted to say. But he felt unable to do so, felt his mouth wield shut at the thought of uttering all the tiny reassurances he wanted to offer.
Something inside of himself refused to loosen so that he could tell the boy what he felt. And maybe, Horatio hoped, that would lessen with time, that eventually he would be able to talk to his son in a way that mattered. But part of him feared that it would always be this way. After all, it had always been this uncomfortable with his father. If anything, the more time they had spent together, the more horrible the relationship had become. And perhaps that inability to parent had been passed onto the redhead himself.
Pushing the unwanted thought into the recesses of his mind, Horatio changed the subject. “Are you hungry?” When the blond shrugged, Horatio offered, “I don’t have much, but I can make us eggs… if you want.”
“Yeah, that’s cool.”
And so breakfast came and went, the silence between them even more prominent than it had been the night before. The passing of time seemed slow to the redhead at first, but before he knew it, they were driving to social services.
Once there, as they got out of the car, Horatio reminded Kyle, “Whatever you do, tell them the truth. Lying… will not help us.”
“Yeah,” the blond responded as they began walking towards the white brick building.
Once again, Horatio wished he could offer his son some words of encouragement. But what should he say? How could he ease Kyle’s fears when he himself was absolutely terrified that this wouldn’t go well?
So, again, he decided to say nothing until they were standing in front of a receptionist’s desk, asking to talk to Kyle’s social worker. “Take a seat,” the kind-looking woman told them. “She’s in today; I’ll see if we can’t fit you in.”
The two waited for over an hour, sitting in the most uncomfortable chairs imaginable. They were made of metal and padded just enough to give the illusion of comfort until a person actually sat in one. And as a result, Horatio and Kyle shifted around frequently, looking, the redhead thought, like two people trying to defraud the entire foster care system. Which, in a way, they were, and knowing how it looked made the wait seem infinitely longer.
But there was a moment in that hour that belied the truth - at least Horatio hoped so - as well. It was in this brief flit of time that the redhead himself believed there was hope for his family. He asked Kyle if it suited him to go out to lunch after this and then shopping. “The bags you packed at your foster home were light. And I thought that… maybe buy some new things would give you a fresh start.”
The almost enthusiastic nodding of the boy’s head was the first sign of emotion the blond had shown since he’d moved in. And it gave Horatio some relief to see it, even if some part of him doubted it.
After all, Kyle had acted so differently in front Yelina, which was similar but not quite the same as how he’d acted during the police interrogation. And that was completely unlike how he’d acted in court or at the foster family’s house or even last night. All these different personalities seemed so incongruous with one another, and the redhead had no idea which ones were real. And as much as he would like to believe that this - the grateful, almost cheery side - was real, Horatio couldn’t know for sure. Especially since they were in front of other people who would ultimately judge their rightness for one another.
And it wasn’t that the redhead couldn’t appreciate that as motivation for faking it. Because Horatio himself questioned his own actions. Had he offered the items out of concern or because he thought it would look good? Deep down inside, the man conceded that it was more than likely both. But even so… a willingness to lie to stay together meant something.
Well, Horatio hoped so anyway.
Finally, though, Kyle’s social worker did appear. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I wasn’t expecting you,” she said in a kindly, but frank voice. “Lucky for you, though, one of my cases has been postponed. So we can definitely take care of this today, all right Kyle and…”
“Horatio Caine,” the redhead offered. “I am the… biological father,” he said, tripping over the words. That hadn’t been something he’d planned on doing. But, despite going over what he was going to say a million times, he hadn’t quite understood just how powerful those words would be to hear once more. Each and every time he announced himself as Kyle’s father, it made more sense, as well as less - which Horatio couldn’t understand at all.
He had a son.
And part of him deep inside understood that, knew that it was right. But the rest of him found the whole thing to be painfully awkward and nonsensical, like a peanut butter and jelly omelet. Or something just as disgusting and bizarre.
“Excellent,” the woman said, seemingly ignoring the slip of his tongue. “I’m Clarissa Bennett, and I’ve handled your son’s case for almost five years now.”
“Yes,” he said, nodding his head. “I recognize your name from the files I’ve read.”
Again she said, “Excellent. Well… I have another case at one pm, so we’ll need to keep this short - but then again, I don’t see any reason at the moment why you two shouldn’t remain a family. So I’ll interview the two of you separately, and then we’ll see where we are, all right?”
Both Kyle and Horatio nodded their heads.
“Good. Mr. Caine, how about we start with you?”
And though he nodded his head agreeably, Horatio couldn’t help but feel as though he were about to face the firing squad.
End (39/??)