No Other One, Chapter 45
Title: No Other One, Chapter 45
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, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, and Chapter 44.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage…If I have freedom in my life
And in my soul am free” - Richard Lovelace
She was reading on the couch when her son came to her. Yelina’s hazel eyes taking his pale face in, the mother was only mildly surprised when he miserably plopped down next to her. The cushions beneath her shifted, as Ray Junior pulled his legs up onto the couch.
“I don’t feel good,” he muttered, laying his head down in her lap. Setting aside her book, she instinctively began to play with his hair. Her thin fingers ran through his curls, but that didn’t stop Yelina from thinking he wanted something.
He had long since passed the age where his mother’s comfort was actively sought. If anything, these days, she was just happy when he didn’t push her away.
But even with that in mind, this felt natural. It felt so right and easy that she could almost believe that there was no agenda behind it and probably would have, if it weren’t for the fact that she knew her son.
“What’s wrong?” she asked gently.
Groaning he told her, “Ate too much.”
Well, it served him right, Yelina thought ruefully. She’d told him to slow down and eat as though he’d been taught table manners. And when he’d stubbornly continued to shovel the Chinese food in, the mother had warned him about eating so fast. “You keep eating like that, and you’ll be sick,” she had told him.
But her words had fallen on deaf ears.
What else was new?
She supposed that, like any teenager, Ray Junior thought he knew better than she did. Or maybe that wasn’t it at all, Yelina considered. Because part of her was absolutely sure that he could completely doubt himself and he’d still refuse to take her advice. If only because his mother had told him to do something, he would probably abstain from doing it.
And that fact sometimes made her wonder if she should try reverse psychology. Maybe… instead of asking him to clean his room, she would insist that he keep it dirty. Or better yet (since that thought made her shiver), rather than practically plead for an egg roll, she should shove them all on his plate. See if that would work.
Part of her absolutely believed it would. But then again, knowing her son, she figured, that would be the one time he did listen to her.
Looking down at him now, it was hard to tell him that he should listen to her more. As much as Yelina wanted to do that, he was clearly suffering already, and she was far too old to play these games. So instead, she asked, “Want me to get you anything, honey?”
He shook his head no, and for a moment, she expected him to get up and leave. But then he spoke up, “Have you talked to Uncle Horatio?”
Her fingers paused in his hair, as she worried, perhaps irrationally so, that he had somehow learned that she’d spent part of her day with him. No, Yelina told herself, it was completely irrational to think that. Because… there was nothing to hide in that. She hadn’t planned on it, hadn’t spent the afternoon sipping cocktails with her brother-in-law on the beach either.
Still, it was better to play it safe.
Having spent enough time the last few days fighting with Ray Junior and just about everyone else, the brunette did not want to start another argument. Her fingers moving once more, she asked, “Why do you want to know?”
“Well, I was curious,” he nearly snapped. “But since you didn’t just answer the question, I guess that’s a yes.”
Yelina could feel the tension setting into his body, and it was hard not to notice the way his eyes had darkened. Why was it, she almost wanted to ask her son, that they always seemed to get into a fight… when they were trying to avoid fighting?
She sighed, pushing the question aside. Asking that wouldn’t help the situation, she knew that much. And if the brunette wanted to make things calm once more, she’d have to defuse the situation quickly.
“You’re such a smart boy,” she nearly cooed, which succeeded in replacing Ray’s anger with mild annoyance. “I happen to be curious as well. But…” She threw her hands in the air. “Yes, I did see your uncle today.”
Ray shifted on the couch next to her. “Why?” he asked cautiously.
“He… needed my help,” she offered, knowing the answer wasn’t a good one.
The tension in the air seemed to multiply exponentially, and Yelina was sure she didn’t imagine the accusation in her son’s tone when he asked again, “Why?”
Once more she sighed. “Today, Horatio and… Kyle -”
“Who?”
She frowned as she told Ray quietly, “Horatio’s… son.”
He sat up immediately if not quickly. She watched him carefully, hoping that he would remain calm. Which was about as likely as being able to control a hurricane.
But instead he blinked slowly, his forehead knitting in confusion. “Why… that name sounds familiar.”
“That file you found the other day. The one you thought was somehow connected to your father.” Ray Junior nodded his head in recognition, and for the life of her, Yelina hoped she could stop talking; it was bad enough that she knew Horatio had… slept with the woman her husband had lost his virginity to.
But it would be far worse if she had to connect the dots for her child.
“Yeah.”
There was no recognition in the single word, and she knew she would have to go further in her explanation. Still, the brunette decided it was best to leave some of what she knew a secret. “The teenager in the file - Kyle - is… Horatio’s son,” she explained as gently as she could.
It was all that needed to be said.
His eyes widened in understanding, darkening and narrowing seconds later. The set in his shoulders hardened, and his cheeks were turning a deep shade of red. But instead of directing his anger at the appropriate person, he turned to her and snapped, “So… what? You and those two just got together and -”
“Stop it,” she ordered calmly.
“No,” Ray fought back. “Why would you spend time with -”
Grabbing one of his hands, Yelina told him firmly, “Calm down or you’re going to be sick.”
The teenager opened his mouth, probably to say that he would be fine. But the only sound to come out was a groan of pain. He clutched at his stomach, and for a second, the mother watched to see if he would be okay or if he was going to throw up all over her couch.
The next moment passed slowly, Yelina feeling increasingly anxious over what might happen. And though her son was the sick one, she could somehow feel her own stomach tie into knots at the idea of him being ill and in pain.
Only when he nodded his head and lay back down on the couch did her tension ease. “Fine,” he told her begrudgingly, moving closer to her again.
“I didn’t plan on meeting them, Raymond,” she defended quietly. One of her hands returned to his hair, the other beginning to make slow circles on his back. She had forgotten, she realized, how… desperate for affection he could be when he was sick. It had been so long since he’d had even a cold that she’d forgotten how much he liked being taken care of and doted on when he wasn’t well.
“But today, they were going to social services to straighten out Kyle’s custody,” she explained, pushing aside the thought.
“And you had to go?” he asked glumly.
“I didn’t want to but…” The mother brushed a curl out of his face. She considered telling him how Kyle somehow acted as a mirror for her own maternal feelings. Contemplated explaining to her son that, when she looked into the blond’s sad eyes, she could see exactly what she was afraid of as a parent. But somehow, Yelina thought, it would be lost on Ray Junior; he would only see it as a betrayal of sorts, which was completely illogical, she supposed.
And yet Yelina knew that was exactly what would happen.
“It was the right thing to do,” she said simply. But the way Raymond bristled at her answer made it clear that he didn’t agree. “I know you might not think so, Ray, but it’s important to me that Kyle not be punished for what Horatio did. Because I would really hate to see what would happen if that same logic were applied to you.”
“Well, jeez,” he snapped, getting up off the couch. She watched as he began to head back towards his bedroom. “I wish someone would have told me that that logic hadn’t been applied to me,” he snarled.
For the third time, she sighed. And when her son slammed his bedroom door, Yelina wasn’t surprised.
Nor did she go after him.
------------------------
Kyle was… not Ray Junior.
Sitting at the dinner table, Horatio knew all too well how horrible that sounded. He’d grown up in a household filled with comparisons. And while he’d essentially been dubbed the good boy, the redhead had never liked it. Not just because it had made his little brother always feel less than, but because those comparison had always put the weight of the world on Horatio’s shoulders.
And just making the contrast between Kyle and Ray now put the redhead off his dinner. Using his fork, he pushed a bite of veal around on his white plate, mimicking what his own son was doing. It was almost sad, he thought at the moment, that the one meal he could really cook was being wasted.
But then again, Horatio defended to himself, maybe his comparison between the teenagers was okay; because he wasn’t saying that one was better than the other, righter than the other. Just that they were different.
Temporarily his mind eased, and he chewed another bite of the tender veal. He really did hate to see the food wasted. Aside from the principle of it, he’d spent time making the food, and that alone should have made it worth eating.
But apparently, Kyle didn’t seem to think so.
The boy had eaten very little since they’d sat down to dinner, said even less. And for a moment, Horatio entertained the idea that the teenager didn’t like veal. Watching him then, the redhead could see how Kyle occasionally took a bite of the meat but stuck mainly to the vegetables.
Horatio hadn’t really considered the blond’s food preferences when he’d decided to make dinner. And… he probably should have, he thought dejectedly. That’s what any normal parent would do, right? That he hadn’t just seemed to be one more reason why he should not have done this, he told himself.
But… even if he had thought about those things, Horatio decided, it wouldn’t have helped. Because last night, they’d had hamburgers, and there hadn’t been a problem there.
True, some people had an aversion to veal, but the redhead had always found that point of view to be hypocritical. If a person was willing to eat the animal, it didn’t matter how long the cow had been alive or what sort of life it had lived. If a person was ready to make that sacrifice, then it didn’t matter the feelings that went into it.
Just as it never really mattered why someone chose to kill another human being. The reasons never truly surpassed the act itself. Speaking of hypocrisy, he thought glumly; as a lieutenant, he had killed… plenty of people. And though he’d had his reasons, none of them ever seemed to take the edge off of the fact that he had killed someone.
And he thought Kyle would agree with him in that.
But… maybe not.
Because, really, what did Horatio know about this boy?
He’d read things in the foster care file, and he’d seen all of the crimes Kyle had committed as a juvenile. But that hardly amounted to any sort of understanding.
And Horatio realized then that he hadn’t just been comparing the two teenagers; it hadn’t been harmless, because what it came down to was… Ray Junior was so much easier.
It was obviously true that his nephew had a temper and a bit of a nasty streak. The boy could be as mean and insensitive as his namesake. But there was some comfort to be had in Ray’s honesty. Because not once did Horatio wonder where they stood.
That much had always been clear. And similarly, because Ray Junior was so open, it was never hard to understand what he was feeling - never hard to help him work through his problems.
Giving his nephew what he needed was so easy, because it was always right there on the table for anyone to see.
Kyle on the other hand…
Everything was hidden and unsaid. Everything had subtext and paradoxically no meaning at all. No one put anything on the table, and Horatio understood that it was probably his job to start them off.
But openness wasn’t his strong suit; it had never been, and he couldn’t just change that overnight. Because if it really were easy to do that, he would have done it years ago.
For Yelina.
For his wife.
For himself.
But as it was, he didn’t know how to offer himself to Kyle, and he certainly didn’t know what to tell the boy to make things better between them. So Horatio lamely asked, “Veal okay?”
“It’s good” was the teenager’s quick response, making it pretty clear that something wasn’t right.
But accusing the boy of lying… Horatio couldn’t do that. Because confrontation, as his fight with Yelina was proof of, wasn’t his strong suit either.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true, he conceded, spooning a bite of spinach into his mouth. He could be confrontational and damn good at it. But only in a procedural setting - or, you know, anytime he was near Stetler - did it feel appropriate and natural.
Being that way with family members was different.
Because that was a constant reminder of his own father and the never ending tension and fighting that was inherent in Horatio’s relationship with him. And the redhead realized then… he’d never really learned how to approach someone on a personal level.
But at the same time, he supposed it didn’t really matter now. As long as Kyle continued to act this way, nothing could be said.
Nothing could be fixed; everything was just good.
And until one of them acknowledged that something was wrong, everything would continue to be good.
That thought, which refused to leave his mind, pushed Horatio over the edge. Forgetting the amount of time it had taken for him to cook their dinner, he shoved his plate aside, having completely lost his appetite.
--------------------------
His stomach ache completely forgotten, Ray Junior thought the only thing left to decide was who he was pissed at the most. Rolling over on his bed, he realized it was gonna be a tough call to make. Horatio, this Kyle kid, and his own mother - they’d all done some pretty unforgivable things, and it would be hard to decide, he thought.
Or not.
The more he contemplated who was really at fault, the more clear it became: this was damn simple.
None of this would have happened if that stupid kid didn’t exist.
It was all his fault. Every bad thing that had happened lately could be traced back to this idiot.
And maybe Ray could deal with that if this Kyle loser kept his problems to his own part of the family. If he’d only messed around with Horatio, then maybe Ray Junior could have accepted it. But now this asshole was getting Ray’s mother to do stuff for him, and that was unacceptable.
If he hadn’t wanted revenge before, Ray was absolutely certain he would have wanted it now.
Exhaling loudly, the teenager supposed the only thing left to do now was figure out just how to get revenge.
It would have to be something that would really hurt. Barging into an already volatile family warranted something a little worse than your average prank. Whoopie cushions, hand in the warm water trick - those were out. Because those would be embarrassing, and Ray needed this newbie to know he wasn’t wanted.
But what exactly could he do?
It was hard finding a good answer to the question. Even though Ray had read parts of Kyle’s file, that didn’t give him much to go on. And in order for it to really hurt, he would need to know more about the kid.
Right now, all he had learned was that Kyle’s mother had dated Ray’s father. And what good was that? It was juicy, sure, but the only people who would be hurt were - no, scratch that. The only one hurt by that had to be his mother, Ray figured. Cause Horatio might care, but the teenager was sure his uncle had dealt with that drama a while back.
The newb wouldn’t care, because why would he? Kyle wouldn’t give two squirts of duck shit about what Julia Alvarez had done with a man he’d never met.
And Ray cared, only insofar as it made him want to beat the hell out of Horatio. His uncle had always acted like dating Ray’s mother was a crime against humanity. And that was fine on its own, but now that they all knew Horatio had screwed around with this other chick, who had dated Ray’s father?
That was just too much.
But at the same time… how mad could the teenager really be about it? It sucked, but what would really suck was if his mother and uncle had fallen in love and then this happened. If they were dating and living together - or married - then that would have meant Kyle living here.
The idea alone made what they were going through now seem perfect by comparison.
So there was nothing in the file to use, Ray told himself, shaking off the disturbing image of Horatio and Kyle living with him.
Well, he decided. He would just need more information. And he knew exactly who to ask.
Getting out of bed, the teenager returned to the living room where his mother sat reading. She looked up at him cautiously.
If he were a good boy, he would apologize to her for storming out earlier. But then he thought sarcastically that that might set a bad example. God forbid she expect that every single time he got pissed. So he said, “I can’t believe you saw them today.” He tried hard to keep the anger out of his voice, lest she catch on.
“I didn’t plan on it, Ray. It just… happened,” she explained, confusion and annoyance mingling in the accented tones.
He nodded his head as he sat down. In the back of mind, he thought that it wasn’t really much of an excuse. But he also knew that if he wanted her to chat with him, then he couldn’t get angry again.
Sitting next to her quietly, Ray waited a few minutes before asking, “And?”
She shrugged, setting her book aside again. “Everything turned out fine… well, Horatio got custody,” she told him.
The question that popped into the teenager’s head next wasn’t one that he planned on asking. And the chances of it being relevant to his ultimate goal were slim to none. But he couldn’t help but ask, “Did Horatio seem happy about that?”
His mother’s eyes darkened slightly for reasons Ray didn’t understand. “I don’t know” was her eventual answer.
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head and ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth. “Your uncle seemed… confused.” Shrugging once more, she added simply, “He’s been through a lot these past few days.”
“And we haven’t?” Ray snapped back before he could stop himself. Her answer was to raise an eyebrow at him, silently daring him to accuse her of believing that.
Once again, he felt a need - well, that was the wrong word. He didn’t feel the need to apologize, but the teenager did recognize that, if he wanted to, now would be a good time to do it. “And… Kyle?”
“I… would imagine he’s pleased.” Her wording was carefully, consciously chosen.
“You don’t know?”
Something in her voice sounded so far away, like she was thinking of something else entirely when she spoke again. “I didn’t see him after it became clear he was staying with Horatio.”
This was so frustrating, Ray thought to himself in that moment. She was answering his questions… honestly it seemed. But nothing she was telling him would actually help in his quest to kick that stupid kid’s ass. Which meant he would have to press her for more, and that… might be difficult.
Leaning back on the couch, Ray asked quietly, “So… what’s he like?”
“Who?”
He rolled his eyes and then decided it might be a good idea to get as close to her as possible so she couldn’t see his face. Scooting over, Ray rested his head on her shoulder. That way she’d have a hard time seeing him, and it was really smart, he thought, because she was always a sucker for contact. “Kyle.”
Leaning against her, the teenager could feel his mother bristle at the question. “Why… do you ask?”
He shrugged purposely. “Just want to know what he’s like.” But the tension in his mother didn’t subside at his words. If anything, she seemed to stiffen more.
Still, she answered, “He’s quiet. Mostly anyway.”
Great.
That didn’t help him at all, he thought, rolling his eyes. “That’s it?” he asked.
At that moment, his mother unsuccessfully tried to crane her head downwards to look into his eyes. “Why the sudden curiosity?”
The “I don’t know” he offered was evasive.
“Raymond,” she warned.
Innocently, Ray asked, “What?”
“Do not do something -”
“What do you think I’m gonna do?” he asked, offended at her innuendo… even if it was true.
“Hopefully nothing stupid.” Though she didn’t say it, it seemed pretty obvious to the teenager that what she meant was “hopefully you won’t do something stupid, but I don’t trust you to be smart.”
And the complete lack of faith pissed him off.
Screw it, he thought to himself. He didn’t need her help.
Angrily standing up, Ray snapped, “What the hell - I can’t ask a question?”
She stood up as well. “You can. I’m just worried you will -”
“Don’t,” he nearly yelled. Breathing harshly, Ray took a moment to find the words he wanted to say; he wanted more information, but he was too angry to think straight. So he told her, “You know what? Just… never mind. I thought I had a right to know about this random person, but obviously you’re not the right person to talk to. So never mind.”
He started to stalk back towards his room when she sharply warned him, “I will be very disappointed in you if you hurt him.”
Slamming his door shut, Ray felt her words sink into his skin and mix with his blood. Making their way to his heart, what she’d said began to strangle him with fear, with realization.
She liked this kid.
She cared about him.
And though he hadn’t thought it possible, that hurt more than losing his uncle to Kyle.
Which just made Ray all the more determined to get this kid out of their lives.
His mother would be “disappointed.” But he didn’t care.
Sitting down to his computer, Ray pulled up his internet browser and went to Google. Typing Kyle’s name into the search engine, the teenager could only hope that he’d be able to find the silver bullet all on his own…
---------------------
While Horatio did the dishes, Kyle slipped into the bathroom located near his bedroom. Naturally, there was one closer to the kitchen, but… the teenager could feel his dinner coming back up, and he didn’t need an audience for it. Nor did he want the redhead to know just how sick the food had made him feel. Shutting the bathroom door behind him, the blond made sure to turn the lock.
Quickly his fingers flicked on the light and fan in the tiny area. And even faster than that, Kyle sunk to his knees in front of the toilet.
It had been years since he’d felt this sick, so long that he’d actually forgotten how much it hurt to feel his stomach tighten and turn and clench. His knuckles turned white as he clung to the porcelain rim, praying desperately for each wave of nausea to pass.
But his pleas were not enough to stop the tide. And when the dam broke, Kyle couldn’t stop himself from retching. The acrid taste of partially digested dinner filled his mouth momentarily before forcing its way out. His palms and forehead sweaty, by the time his stomach finished churning, his abdominal muscles were sore from the stress.
After flushing the toilet, Kyle rocked backwards onto his heels, slumping against the bathtub behind him. As he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, the teenager had to admit: it probably would have been easier to tell Horatio that he didn’t like veal.
Or not, he told himself, as he stood up on shaky legs. Throwing up sucked, and he had no intention of doing it again. But… having a conversation with Horatio about this sort of thing just didn’t sound all that less painful. Because what if the redhead hadn’t cared? What if he’d been forced to sit through the meal anyway? What if that was what set Horatio off and made him realize that he didn’t want to take care of Kyle anymore?
Being sick, he decided, wasn’t all that fun. But in the end, it was still easier than the alternatives. And also, Kyle couldn’t help but think that maybe it wasn’t the food at all. He’d been feeling ill at ease all day, and maybe eating the corpse of a baby cow had just pushed him over the edge.
Mechanically, he stopped in front of the sink and began to brush his teeth. As he scrubbed away at the bitter taste in his mouth, Kyle happened to glance at his reflection in the small mirror.
Though it had only been a few days since all of this began, Kyle thought he looked incredibly different. His eyes were light brown, almost an amber color. But he looked exhausted and defeated, and he could only imagine what someone else gazing at him would think.
Spitting out the toothpaste, Kyle recalled everything that had happened: his arrest, jail, Horatio, Yelina, social services, hamburgers, Mello Yello, and veal. It had been just one thing right after another, an avalanche of awkward moments and screwy twists in his life.
And crawling into his bed minutes later, the teenager couldn’t help but wonder just how much more he could take.
End (46/??)
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, Chapter 37, Chapter 38, Chapter 39, Chapter 40, Chapter 41, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, and Chapter 44.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage…If I have freedom in my life
And in my soul am free” - Richard Lovelace
She was reading on the couch when her son came to her. Yelina’s hazel eyes taking his pale face in, the mother was only mildly surprised when he miserably plopped down next to her. The cushions beneath her shifted, as Ray Junior pulled his legs up onto the couch.
“I don’t feel good,” he muttered, laying his head down in her lap. Setting aside her book, she instinctively began to play with his hair. Her thin fingers ran through his curls, but that didn’t stop Yelina from thinking he wanted something.
He had long since passed the age where his mother’s comfort was actively sought. If anything, these days, she was just happy when he didn’t push her away.
But even with that in mind, this felt natural. It felt so right and easy that she could almost believe that there was no agenda behind it and probably would have, if it weren’t for the fact that she knew her son.
“What’s wrong?” she asked gently.
Groaning he told her, “Ate too much.”
Well, it served him right, Yelina thought ruefully. She’d told him to slow down and eat as though he’d been taught table manners. And when he’d stubbornly continued to shovel the Chinese food in, the mother had warned him about eating so fast. “You keep eating like that, and you’ll be sick,” she had told him.
But her words had fallen on deaf ears.
What else was new?
She supposed that, like any teenager, Ray Junior thought he knew better than she did. Or maybe that wasn’t it at all, Yelina considered. Because part of her was absolutely sure that he could completely doubt himself and he’d still refuse to take her advice. If only because his mother had told him to do something, he would probably abstain from doing it.
And that fact sometimes made her wonder if she should try reverse psychology. Maybe… instead of asking him to clean his room, she would insist that he keep it dirty. Or better yet (since that thought made her shiver), rather than practically plead for an egg roll, she should shove them all on his plate. See if that would work.
Part of her absolutely believed it would. But then again, knowing her son, she figured, that would be the one time he did listen to her.
Looking down at him now, it was hard to tell him that he should listen to her more. As much as Yelina wanted to do that, he was clearly suffering already, and she was far too old to play these games. So instead, she asked, “Want me to get you anything, honey?”
He shook his head no, and for a moment, she expected him to get up and leave. But then he spoke up, “Have you talked to Uncle Horatio?”
Her fingers paused in his hair, as she worried, perhaps irrationally so, that he had somehow learned that she’d spent part of her day with him. No, Yelina told herself, it was completely irrational to think that. Because… there was nothing to hide in that. She hadn’t planned on it, hadn’t spent the afternoon sipping cocktails with her brother-in-law on the beach either.
Still, it was better to play it safe.
Having spent enough time the last few days fighting with Ray Junior and just about everyone else, the brunette did not want to start another argument. Her fingers moving once more, she asked, “Why do you want to know?”
“Well, I was curious,” he nearly snapped. “But since you didn’t just answer the question, I guess that’s a yes.”
Yelina could feel the tension setting into his body, and it was hard not to notice the way his eyes had darkened. Why was it, she almost wanted to ask her son, that they always seemed to get into a fight… when they were trying to avoid fighting?
She sighed, pushing the question aside. Asking that wouldn’t help the situation, she knew that much. And if the brunette wanted to make things calm once more, she’d have to defuse the situation quickly.
“You’re such a smart boy,” she nearly cooed, which succeeded in replacing Ray’s anger with mild annoyance. “I happen to be curious as well. But…” She threw her hands in the air. “Yes, I did see your uncle today.”
Ray shifted on the couch next to her. “Why?” he asked cautiously.
“He… needed my help,” she offered, knowing the answer wasn’t a good one.
The tension in the air seemed to multiply exponentially, and Yelina was sure she didn’t imagine the accusation in her son’s tone when he asked again, “Why?”
Once more she sighed. “Today, Horatio and… Kyle -”
“Who?”
She frowned as she told Ray quietly, “Horatio’s… son.”
He sat up immediately if not quickly. She watched him carefully, hoping that he would remain calm. Which was about as likely as being able to control a hurricane.
But instead he blinked slowly, his forehead knitting in confusion. “Why… that name sounds familiar.”
“That file you found the other day. The one you thought was somehow connected to your father.” Ray Junior nodded his head in recognition, and for the life of her, Yelina hoped she could stop talking; it was bad enough that she knew Horatio had… slept with the woman her husband had lost his virginity to.
But it would be far worse if she had to connect the dots for her child.
“Yeah.”
There was no recognition in the single word, and she knew she would have to go further in her explanation. Still, the brunette decided it was best to leave some of what she knew a secret. “The teenager in the file - Kyle - is… Horatio’s son,” she explained as gently as she could.
It was all that needed to be said.
His eyes widened in understanding, darkening and narrowing seconds later. The set in his shoulders hardened, and his cheeks were turning a deep shade of red. But instead of directing his anger at the appropriate person, he turned to her and snapped, “So… what? You and those two just got together and -”
“Stop it,” she ordered calmly.
“No,” Ray fought back. “Why would you spend time with -”
Grabbing one of his hands, Yelina told him firmly, “Calm down or you’re going to be sick.”
The teenager opened his mouth, probably to say that he would be fine. But the only sound to come out was a groan of pain. He clutched at his stomach, and for a second, the mother watched to see if he would be okay or if he was going to throw up all over her couch.
The next moment passed slowly, Yelina feeling increasingly anxious over what might happen. And though her son was the sick one, she could somehow feel her own stomach tie into knots at the idea of him being ill and in pain.
Only when he nodded his head and lay back down on the couch did her tension ease. “Fine,” he told her begrudgingly, moving closer to her again.
“I didn’t plan on meeting them, Raymond,” she defended quietly. One of her hands returned to his hair, the other beginning to make slow circles on his back. She had forgotten, she realized, how… desperate for affection he could be when he was sick. It had been so long since he’d had even a cold that she’d forgotten how much he liked being taken care of and doted on when he wasn’t well.
“But today, they were going to social services to straighten out Kyle’s custody,” she explained, pushing aside the thought.
“And you had to go?” he asked glumly.
“I didn’t want to but…” The mother brushed a curl out of his face. She considered telling him how Kyle somehow acted as a mirror for her own maternal feelings. Contemplated explaining to her son that, when she looked into the blond’s sad eyes, she could see exactly what she was afraid of as a parent. But somehow, Yelina thought, it would be lost on Ray Junior; he would only see it as a betrayal of sorts, which was completely illogical, she supposed.
And yet Yelina knew that was exactly what would happen.
“It was the right thing to do,” she said simply. But the way Raymond bristled at her answer made it clear that he didn’t agree. “I know you might not think so, Ray, but it’s important to me that Kyle not be punished for what Horatio did. Because I would really hate to see what would happen if that same logic were applied to you.”
“Well, jeez,” he snapped, getting up off the couch. She watched as he began to head back towards his bedroom. “I wish someone would have told me that that logic hadn’t been applied to me,” he snarled.
For the third time, she sighed. And when her son slammed his bedroom door, Yelina wasn’t surprised.
Nor did she go after him.
------------------------
Kyle was… not Ray Junior.
Sitting at the dinner table, Horatio knew all too well how horrible that sounded. He’d grown up in a household filled with comparisons. And while he’d essentially been dubbed the good boy, the redhead had never liked it. Not just because it had made his little brother always feel less than, but because those comparison had always put the weight of the world on Horatio’s shoulders.
And just making the contrast between Kyle and Ray now put the redhead off his dinner. Using his fork, he pushed a bite of veal around on his white plate, mimicking what his own son was doing. It was almost sad, he thought at the moment, that the one meal he could really cook was being wasted.
But then again, Horatio defended to himself, maybe his comparison between the teenagers was okay; because he wasn’t saying that one was better than the other, righter than the other. Just that they were different.
Temporarily his mind eased, and he chewed another bite of the tender veal. He really did hate to see the food wasted. Aside from the principle of it, he’d spent time making the food, and that alone should have made it worth eating.
But apparently, Kyle didn’t seem to think so.
The boy had eaten very little since they’d sat down to dinner, said even less. And for a moment, Horatio entertained the idea that the teenager didn’t like veal. Watching him then, the redhead could see how Kyle occasionally took a bite of the meat but stuck mainly to the vegetables.
Horatio hadn’t really considered the blond’s food preferences when he’d decided to make dinner. And… he probably should have, he thought dejectedly. That’s what any normal parent would do, right? That he hadn’t just seemed to be one more reason why he should not have done this, he told himself.
But… even if he had thought about those things, Horatio decided, it wouldn’t have helped. Because last night, they’d had hamburgers, and there hadn’t been a problem there.
True, some people had an aversion to veal, but the redhead had always found that point of view to be hypocritical. If a person was willing to eat the animal, it didn’t matter how long the cow had been alive or what sort of life it had lived. If a person was ready to make that sacrifice, then it didn’t matter the feelings that went into it.
Just as it never really mattered why someone chose to kill another human being. The reasons never truly surpassed the act itself. Speaking of hypocrisy, he thought glumly; as a lieutenant, he had killed… plenty of people. And though he’d had his reasons, none of them ever seemed to take the edge off of the fact that he had killed someone.
And he thought Kyle would agree with him in that.
But… maybe not.
Because, really, what did Horatio know about this boy?
He’d read things in the foster care file, and he’d seen all of the crimes Kyle had committed as a juvenile. But that hardly amounted to any sort of understanding.
And Horatio realized then that he hadn’t just been comparing the two teenagers; it hadn’t been harmless, because what it came down to was… Ray Junior was so much easier.
It was obviously true that his nephew had a temper and a bit of a nasty streak. The boy could be as mean and insensitive as his namesake. But there was some comfort to be had in Ray’s honesty. Because not once did Horatio wonder where they stood.
That much had always been clear. And similarly, because Ray Junior was so open, it was never hard to understand what he was feeling - never hard to help him work through his problems.
Giving his nephew what he needed was so easy, because it was always right there on the table for anyone to see.
Kyle on the other hand…
Everything was hidden and unsaid. Everything had subtext and paradoxically no meaning at all. No one put anything on the table, and Horatio understood that it was probably his job to start them off.
But openness wasn’t his strong suit; it had never been, and he couldn’t just change that overnight. Because if it really were easy to do that, he would have done it years ago.
For Yelina.
For his wife.
For himself.
But as it was, he didn’t know how to offer himself to Kyle, and he certainly didn’t know what to tell the boy to make things better between them. So Horatio lamely asked, “Veal okay?”
“It’s good” was the teenager’s quick response, making it pretty clear that something wasn’t right.
But accusing the boy of lying… Horatio couldn’t do that. Because confrontation, as his fight with Yelina was proof of, wasn’t his strong suit either.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true, he conceded, spooning a bite of spinach into his mouth. He could be confrontational and damn good at it. But only in a procedural setting - or, you know, anytime he was near Stetler - did it feel appropriate and natural.
Being that way with family members was different.
Because that was a constant reminder of his own father and the never ending tension and fighting that was inherent in Horatio’s relationship with him. And the redhead realized then… he’d never really learned how to approach someone on a personal level.
But at the same time, he supposed it didn’t really matter now. As long as Kyle continued to act this way, nothing could be said.
Nothing could be fixed; everything was just good.
And until one of them acknowledged that something was wrong, everything would continue to be good.
That thought, which refused to leave his mind, pushed Horatio over the edge. Forgetting the amount of time it had taken for him to cook their dinner, he shoved his plate aside, having completely lost his appetite.
--------------------------
His stomach ache completely forgotten, Ray Junior thought the only thing left to decide was who he was pissed at the most. Rolling over on his bed, he realized it was gonna be a tough call to make. Horatio, this Kyle kid, and his own mother - they’d all done some pretty unforgivable things, and it would be hard to decide, he thought.
Or not.
The more he contemplated who was really at fault, the more clear it became: this was damn simple.
None of this would have happened if that stupid kid didn’t exist.
It was all his fault. Every bad thing that had happened lately could be traced back to this idiot.
And maybe Ray could deal with that if this Kyle loser kept his problems to his own part of the family. If he’d only messed around with Horatio, then maybe Ray Junior could have accepted it. But now this asshole was getting Ray’s mother to do stuff for him, and that was unacceptable.
If he hadn’t wanted revenge before, Ray was absolutely certain he would have wanted it now.
Exhaling loudly, the teenager supposed the only thing left to do now was figure out just how to get revenge.
It would have to be something that would really hurt. Barging into an already volatile family warranted something a little worse than your average prank. Whoopie cushions, hand in the warm water trick - those were out. Because those would be embarrassing, and Ray needed this newbie to know he wasn’t wanted.
But what exactly could he do?
It was hard finding a good answer to the question. Even though Ray had read parts of Kyle’s file, that didn’t give him much to go on. And in order for it to really hurt, he would need to know more about the kid.
Right now, all he had learned was that Kyle’s mother had dated Ray’s father. And what good was that? It was juicy, sure, but the only people who would be hurt were - no, scratch that. The only one hurt by that had to be his mother, Ray figured. Cause Horatio might care, but the teenager was sure his uncle had dealt with that drama a while back.
The newb wouldn’t care, because why would he? Kyle wouldn’t give two squirts of duck shit about what Julia Alvarez had done with a man he’d never met.
And Ray cared, only insofar as it made him want to beat the hell out of Horatio. His uncle had always acted like dating Ray’s mother was a crime against humanity. And that was fine on its own, but now that they all knew Horatio had screwed around with this other chick, who had dated Ray’s father?
That was just too much.
But at the same time… how mad could the teenager really be about it? It sucked, but what would really suck was if his mother and uncle had fallen in love and then this happened. If they were dating and living together - or married - then that would have meant Kyle living here.
The idea alone made what they were going through now seem perfect by comparison.
So there was nothing in the file to use, Ray told himself, shaking off the disturbing image of Horatio and Kyle living with him.
Well, he decided. He would just need more information. And he knew exactly who to ask.
Getting out of bed, the teenager returned to the living room where his mother sat reading. She looked up at him cautiously.
If he were a good boy, he would apologize to her for storming out earlier. But then he thought sarcastically that that might set a bad example. God forbid she expect that every single time he got pissed. So he said, “I can’t believe you saw them today.” He tried hard to keep the anger out of his voice, lest she catch on.
“I didn’t plan on it, Ray. It just… happened,” she explained, confusion and annoyance mingling in the accented tones.
He nodded his head as he sat down. In the back of mind, he thought that it wasn’t really much of an excuse. But he also knew that if he wanted her to chat with him, then he couldn’t get angry again.
Sitting next to her quietly, Ray waited a few minutes before asking, “And?”
She shrugged, setting her book aside again. “Everything turned out fine… well, Horatio got custody,” she told him.
The question that popped into the teenager’s head next wasn’t one that he planned on asking. And the chances of it being relevant to his ultimate goal were slim to none. But he couldn’t help but ask, “Did Horatio seem happy about that?”
His mother’s eyes darkened slightly for reasons Ray didn’t understand. “I don’t know” was her eventual answer.
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head and ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth. “Your uncle seemed… confused.” Shrugging once more, she added simply, “He’s been through a lot these past few days.”
“And we haven’t?” Ray snapped back before he could stop himself. Her answer was to raise an eyebrow at him, silently daring him to accuse her of believing that.
Once again, he felt a need - well, that was the wrong word. He didn’t feel the need to apologize, but the teenager did recognize that, if he wanted to, now would be a good time to do it. “And… Kyle?”
“I… would imagine he’s pleased.” Her wording was carefully, consciously chosen.
“You don’t know?”
Something in her voice sounded so far away, like she was thinking of something else entirely when she spoke again. “I didn’t see him after it became clear he was staying with Horatio.”
This was so frustrating, Ray thought to himself in that moment. She was answering his questions… honestly it seemed. But nothing she was telling him would actually help in his quest to kick that stupid kid’s ass. Which meant he would have to press her for more, and that… might be difficult.
Leaning back on the couch, Ray asked quietly, “So… what’s he like?”
“Who?”
He rolled his eyes and then decided it might be a good idea to get as close to her as possible so she couldn’t see his face. Scooting over, Ray rested his head on her shoulder. That way she’d have a hard time seeing him, and it was really smart, he thought, because she was always a sucker for contact. “Kyle.”
Leaning against her, the teenager could feel his mother bristle at the question. “Why… do you ask?”
He shrugged purposely. “Just want to know what he’s like.” But the tension in his mother didn’t subside at his words. If anything, she seemed to stiffen more.
Still, she answered, “He’s quiet. Mostly anyway.”
Great.
That didn’t help him at all, he thought, rolling his eyes. “That’s it?” he asked.
At that moment, his mother unsuccessfully tried to crane her head downwards to look into his eyes. “Why the sudden curiosity?”
The “I don’t know” he offered was evasive.
“Raymond,” she warned.
Innocently, Ray asked, “What?”
“Do not do something -”
“What do you think I’m gonna do?” he asked, offended at her innuendo… even if it was true.
“Hopefully nothing stupid.” Though she didn’t say it, it seemed pretty obvious to the teenager that what she meant was “hopefully you won’t do something stupid, but I don’t trust you to be smart.”
And the complete lack of faith pissed him off.
Screw it, he thought to himself. He didn’t need her help.
Angrily standing up, Ray snapped, “What the hell - I can’t ask a question?”
She stood up as well. “You can. I’m just worried you will -”
“Don’t,” he nearly yelled. Breathing harshly, Ray took a moment to find the words he wanted to say; he wanted more information, but he was too angry to think straight. So he told her, “You know what? Just… never mind. I thought I had a right to know about this random person, but obviously you’re not the right person to talk to. So never mind.”
He started to stalk back towards his room when she sharply warned him, “I will be very disappointed in you if you hurt him.”
Slamming his door shut, Ray felt her words sink into his skin and mix with his blood. Making their way to his heart, what she’d said began to strangle him with fear, with realization.
She liked this kid.
She cared about him.
And though he hadn’t thought it possible, that hurt more than losing his uncle to Kyle.
Which just made Ray all the more determined to get this kid out of their lives.
His mother would be “disappointed.” But he didn’t care.
Sitting down to his computer, Ray pulled up his internet browser and went to Google. Typing Kyle’s name into the search engine, the teenager could only hope that he’d be able to find the silver bullet all on his own…
---------------------
While Horatio did the dishes, Kyle slipped into the bathroom located near his bedroom. Naturally, there was one closer to the kitchen, but… the teenager could feel his dinner coming back up, and he didn’t need an audience for it. Nor did he want the redhead to know just how sick the food had made him feel. Shutting the bathroom door behind him, the blond made sure to turn the lock.
Quickly his fingers flicked on the light and fan in the tiny area. And even faster than that, Kyle sunk to his knees in front of the toilet.
It had been years since he’d felt this sick, so long that he’d actually forgotten how much it hurt to feel his stomach tighten and turn and clench. His knuckles turned white as he clung to the porcelain rim, praying desperately for each wave of nausea to pass.
But his pleas were not enough to stop the tide. And when the dam broke, Kyle couldn’t stop himself from retching. The acrid taste of partially digested dinner filled his mouth momentarily before forcing its way out. His palms and forehead sweaty, by the time his stomach finished churning, his abdominal muscles were sore from the stress.
After flushing the toilet, Kyle rocked backwards onto his heels, slumping against the bathtub behind him. As he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, the teenager had to admit: it probably would have been easier to tell Horatio that he didn’t like veal.
Or not, he told himself, as he stood up on shaky legs. Throwing up sucked, and he had no intention of doing it again. But… having a conversation with Horatio about this sort of thing just didn’t sound all that less painful. Because what if the redhead hadn’t cared? What if he’d been forced to sit through the meal anyway? What if that was what set Horatio off and made him realize that he didn’t want to take care of Kyle anymore?
Being sick, he decided, wasn’t all that fun. But in the end, it was still easier than the alternatives. And also, Kyle couldn’t help but think that maybe it wasn’t the food at all. He’d been feeling ill at ease all day, and maybe eating the corpse of a baby cow had just pushed him over the edge.
Mechanically, he stopped in front of the sink and began to brush his teeth. As he scrubbed away at the bitter taste in his mouth, Kyle happened to glance at his reflection in the small mirror.
Though it had only been a few days since all of this began, Kyle thought he looked incredibly different. His eyes were light brown, almost an amber color. But he looked exhausted and defeated, and he could only imagine what someone else gazing at him would think.
Spitting out the toothpaste, Kyle recalled everything that had happened: his arrest, jail, Horatio, Yelina, social services, hamburgers, Mello Yello, and veal. It had been just one thing right after another, an avalanche of awkward moments and screwy twists in his life.
And crawling into his bed minutes later, the teenager couldn’t help but wonder just how much more he could take.
End (46/??)