No Other One, Chapter 48
Title: No Other One, Chapter 48
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, Chapter 44, Chapter 45, Chapter 46, and Chapter 47.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“Races are run
Some people win
Some people always have to lose.” - Stevie Nicks
There were many, many things Yelina hated about Stetler. But until now, that had never included his love for running. Really, in all the time they had dated, the brunette had actually appreciated the hobby. Not only had it given her the impetus to work out more, but also… there had been plenty of times when Rick hadn’t been wanted around the house, and running had given him something to do. But more than anything, Yelina had loved the way the exercise had contoured his body, had made him -
No.
No, no, no, no, she told herself, taking a long stride as she ran. She would not think about how attractive her current tormentor was or had been when they were dating. Because that was too much, too nice, and Yelina knew she’d only make it through this last mile if her anger kept her fueled.
Earlier in the day, she’d past her gun test, making sure to inform Stetler that she’d envisioned his head to help her aim. “Good,” he’d told her at the time. “Cause I usually think of you when I come here.”
Her response had been “Wonderful. It’s nice to know that we’re finally on the same page.” But at the time, Yelina had known he didn’t really feel that way. Well, maybe in that particular moment he did, but… if he hadn’t still wanted her, her decision to see Horatio wouldn’t have upset him.
Of course, right now, Yelina couldn’t be sure what was motivating her jogging companion. Whether this was punishment or outright hatred, she didn’t know. And frankly, she didn’t care, because it all amounted to the same thing.
“We’re gonna run twelve laps,” Stetler had told her happily.
But, having seen a sign that explained how long the track was, she had known that this was going to be no small feat. “That’s six miles,” she’d said unenthused.
He’d smiled. “I know. And if you don’t complete it with me, you’re done.”
A part of her had wanted to kill him - still did even. And another piece, one that was less homicidal, had wanted to complain about how stupid this was. Because, she knew, no one had ever been in a situation that required them to run for six miles straight. If there were such instances, then nobody would have gotten fat on the force. Which certainly wasn’t the case. Everyone she’d known had gained weight since joining the MDPD. No one, not even herself, had been exempt from the ten or fifteen pounds that came department issue along with their badges.
Truth be told, if they’d actually had to run six miles at any time, they might not have put on the weight. But as it were, Yelina hadn’t been able to stop herself from thinking that this particular test of Stetler’s was arbitrary and completely pointless.
Instead of arguing, though, she’d nodded her head in agreement. Because, knowing him, she’d understood that there was no point in trying to get him to back off. No matter what she said or did, he would make her run the six miles. And if she complained, he was big enough an ass to make her run more. Which was nothing compared to the idea that complaining would mean he would know she didn’t want to do it.
So she’d kept her mouth shut, and they’d started at nearly a sprint.
But now almost five miles later, their pace was slowing, and Yelina wished she’d given into temptation and killed him long ago.
Not that she couldn’t do this.
She could.
She would.
But her breathing was heavy and shaky, her lungs feeling as though they were on fire. And her muscles had started to burn as well, as did her skin under the heat of the Miami afternoon sun. Yelina’s body was covered in a thin patina of sweat, and though she couldn’t see it, she could feel her curls becoming knotted in the loose bun she’d trapped the strands in. And at this point, each step seemed to echo with the sound of her heartbeat in her ears.
Which wasn’t to say she was doing badly, because really, for a woman who exercised maybe once a month, she was doing well. Or, at least, she was able to keep up with Rick, who, for all of his talk and daily exercise, didn’t look much better than she did.
As if hearing her thoughts, then, he looked over at her and spoke up. “I’m slow, because I already did this once today.”
Once again, temptation struck her, as she wanted to inform him that there was absolutely no reason that they had to do this. But also once more, she realized there was no point in complaining; it wouldn’t help.
Remaining silent until they passed the starting mark, Yelina waited until she felt she could run, talk, and breathe to speak. “You could have just made me do this on my own.”
“I like to run,” he said with a shrug.
She exhaled loudly. “I’m surprised you didn’t follow me, because you were afraid I’d cheat.”
Irritation lacing every word, he told her, “Well, if I thought a person could cheat on this, then I would have definitely expected it from you.” He took a deep breath before finishing, “But since you can’t, that’s not the reason.”
Falling silent, Yelina focused the task on hand. But God, she could hate him so much sometimes, she thought, as she took her next step. And with that in mind, her gait widened, her pace picking up.
The last lap seemed to fly by quicker now, her desire to get away from Stetler pushing her to go faster and harder. And though he was only a few feet behind her, there was something incredibly satisfying in rushing past the finish line before he did.
Of course, Rick didn’t think so, the scowl on his face saying everything he wouldn’t. But she let it go, instead grabbing one of the water bottles they’d set on the bench before starting. She took a long, satisfying drink before asking, “What time do you want me to come in? Or do you have any other pointless tests you want me to take?”
Stetler sneered at her as he dumped some water over his head. “Nine tomorrow,” he told her. And then switching subjects, he asked, “You realize all of this could have been avoided if you’d refused to do everything Horatio asked you to do?”
Immediately, Yelina could feel her blood begin to boil. As tired as she was, as hot as she was, part of her was ready for a fight. Because in her heart, she knew that none of what had happened today was really Horatio’s fault. She’d done what the redhead had wanted, but in the end, it was Stetler who had made her do all of these dumb things - not her brother-in-law. Through gritted teeth, she explained, “He asked for my help. I gave it to him. It was the right thing to do, which I get is difficult for a man like you to understand.”
Using the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe the water and sweat off of his face, Rick looked at her then. “I’m not a bad person,” he argued. “Just because I don’t -”
“I helped him, and I’m not going to apologize for that,” she told him then stubbornly. “And you can play this little game with me all you want,” she nearly snarled back. “But I’m never going to change my mind about that.”
“Of course not,” he snapped. “Yelina Salas knows everything.” He literally through his hands up in the air before taking a long swig from his water bottle. More calmly, he finished the thought. “You’re so self-destructive and arrogant, you’d rather suffer than admit that someone else might be right.”
Raising her chin defiantly, Yelina fought back. “The only suffering I’m currently going through is the kind that I’m experiencing at your hands. I’m not self-destructive -”
“Your sunburn says otherwise,” he interrupted, using a finger to point at her face and shoulders. “And if Horatio’s patterns hold true, you’ll be crying to me about how right I was soon enough.”
She was about to argue some more with him, but he stopped the fight before it even began. Instead of participating in the back and forth, he emptied his water bottle and began to walk away. “See you at nine,” he called over his shoulder.
As his figure got smaller and smaller, Yelina considered chasing after him and… killing him. The image of a bruised and bloody Stetler was a heady one, one that was too enticing to immediately dismiss.
But frankly, after running six miles, she was just too tired.
With a sigh, she threw her empty water bottle away in a nearby trashcan and went home. Exhausted and achy, she, despite knowing he’d said those things to hurt her, couldn’t help but wonder…
Maybe Stetler was right.
Maybe she was that self-destructive and arrogant.
And if that were the case, it was impossible to say where she might end up.
------------------------------
There were many things he could do well - fish, collect evidence, coax a confession out of a criminal. And there were many complicated ideas that Horatio could understand - fusion, Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, his sister-in-law (well, for the most part, anyway).
But today had served only to prove one thing: he didn’t understand everything, and he definitely couldn’t do all of it well. And falling right into the heart of that category was his son, was his ability to parent.
Horatio knew how to be a good CSI but not a good father; Kyle might have been his son, but it honestly felt as though they were different species. For all of the bonding they hadn’t done, the redhead thought that they might as well be from different planets.
Because it really felt as though they weren’t even speaking the same language. He could ask Kyle questions or make small talk, and he’d get a response, but… nothing was ever really being said or learned.
And it wasn’t that Horatio wasn’t trying. God, he was, trying so hard to make some sort of connection with the boy. At this point, it was all he wanted - to have at least… a friendship with him if not anything approaching a normal father/son relationship.
He was trying, he told himself. But each attempt, which he’d carefully crafted in his study over the weekend, had failed so far. For all of his trying, it hadn’t made a difference. Here, he’d fought for custody of the boy, bought him all the things a teenager could possibly want, and tried to cook things for him that he would like.
But it still amounted to nothing.
And after today’s meeting with Kyle’s principal, Horatio couldn’t help but think things were worse. Once again sitting alone in his study, he looked for the answer as to why things should be so bad. But like always, he came up with no real answer, no solution to his problems.
It was almost funny how hopeless this situation was now. He had naïvely believed when he’d first read the DNA test results that that would be the bottom of the hole he’d dug for himself. He’d thought that, by taking the boy in, things could only get better. But in a few short hours, things had gone from quiet to… well, he didn’t even know what this was.
A small part of him whispered in that moment that this was pointless. No matter how much effort he put into this, the results were always the same: the two weren’t any closer than they were before. And paradoxically, Kyle and he were only minutely further apart, which made it… almost easy to believe that nothing had changed or was wrong.
The past two days Horatio had felt the drift, but it was one of those things that was impossible to prove. And the more rational side of him still wanted to believe that maybe things weren’t as bad as he thought they were.
That part of him believed that he was seeing failure where there was none. Which was odd, given that Horatio wasn’t a perfectionist - not really; true, he didn’t like clutter, and he definitely did like to be right, to do the right things. But the redhead didn’t think he was the kind of person to lose sleep over life not going exactly the way he planned.
If he were, he would have never slept.
And yet, Horatio could see how he was acting differently in this. Given the way his own father had treated him, he had always hoped… things could be better with his own son. He had never really dreamed of being a father the same way other parents had felt destined to fulfill that role.
But in the few times when he had considered what he would be like as a father, Horatio had never thought it would be like this. And maybe he wasn’t terrible at it, but somehow the rational part of him could see - the way Kyle had come into his life was hard to get beyond. Was impossible for him to accept, because the boy should have never spent a single night in foster care, should have never gone so long without a father.
Knowing that he felt that way, the redhead couldn’t help but believe that was affecting his own perception of their relationship. He couldn’t help but see failure where there might not have been any, because already he’d screwed up.
And now…
The meeting at the high school had set the drift between Horatio and Kyle into overdrive, and he couldn’t understand why. Try as he might, the redhead couldn’t see where he had gone wrong on this particular day. But obviously… he must have done something horrible.
He’d tried to stave off that feeling of guilt for as long as he could. At first, Horatio had written the silence from his son as… well, the way they normally interacted with one another. Sad as it was, Kyle didn’t talk to him all that much, so Horatio had thought initially that the silence in the car was normal. Because the teenager had never taken the opportunity to chat away with him.
And knowing that, the redhead rationally understood that… it shouldn’t have bothered him; yet, it so clearly had gotten under his skin that Horatio had spent the rest of the drive home wondering what the hell had happened.
It hadn’t hit him until much later that Kyle might be upset over being placed in a grade with teenagers two years younger than him. And upon realizing that, Horatio felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. He’d just assumed the teenager would want to stay where he was, wouldn’t want to miss out on any of his education or make this situation any harder to deal with.
But looking back on the conversation at the school, Horatio had finally seen it through his son’s eyes. Though it had pained him to admit it, the redhead hadn’t been able to ignore the… undercurrent in his own words. He’d denied the test in an attempt to make things easier for the boy, but what Kyle had heard was obviously something else.
That Horatio thought he was stupid.
That Horatio didn’t believe in him.
Even now, alone in his study, the redhead could feel the way those ideas made his skin crawl. They were so far from the truth, so beyond what he’d ever wanted Kyle to feel, and there was no denying: Horatio had screwed up so badly that he doubted he’d ever be able to make it right.
And upon initially realizing his mistake, the redhead had sought out Kyle, had wanted to make things right. But that was easier said than done.
The teenager had been working on his laptop when Horatio had entered the room. The blond’s uneven, slow typing had come to an abrupt halt, and Kyle had turned to look at Horatio expectantly - as if to say, “What do you want?”
“Hey,” Horatio had offered lamely, hoping against all reason and experience that Kyle would start talking.
Which, of course, hadn’t happened. The boy had only looked at him with those dark brown eyes, forcing the redhead to keep talking. “I… I wanted…” He had paused, sighed.
Truth be told, he’d had no idea what to say. “Are you - are we…” He’d let out another sigh, this one longer and more dejected sounding than the last. He was terrible with these conversations - at least with Kyle. And totally resigning himself to failure, Horatio had resorted to small talk. With a forced relaxed look on his face, he had asked, “Ready for school tomorrow?”
Saying nothing, Kyle had only nodded his head.
“Good. That’s… good.” The words, he’d thought at the time, were horribly stilted even to his own ears. “I just wanted… to make sure things were… okay after today.”
“They are,” the teenager had said with a shrug.
“Good,” Horatio had said again. “Because… I thought you might be… upset about not getting the opportunity to take that placement exam.”
Dryly, Kyle had asked, “Do I look upset?”
And even now, Horatio didn’t know whether or not the boy was. As horrible as it was to say that, he… really didn’t know. Although Horatio thought he was reading the situation correctly, from that moment, a doubt had begun to niggle in the back of his mind. A lingering shadow, a voice inside of him had begun to whisper that maybe he really was misreading Kyle.
After all, Horatio had no idea who this kid really was.
But… at the time, he’d told Kyle, “Fair enough. I just wanted you to understand - I’m trying to do what’s best for you. And I don’t think skipping two years of schooling is a wise decision at this point.”
To his own mind, Horatio still thought that what he’d said was the best anyone could do. Or if not the best, he was absolutely sure there were worse things to tell Kyle.
Somehow though… Horatio was sure the boy didn’t agree with him on that.
“It’s cool,” the teenager had replied, effectively ending the conversation.
But it obviously wasn’t cool.
Things were still off, still wrong hours after the fact, and worst of all, Horatio had only the smallest idea of what he’d done wrong. If the problem really were what he’d said in the principal’s office, Kyle refused to let on. And if this growing rift between them was about something else, he had no idea what it was, much less how to fix it.
He was completely out of ideas and solutions. Biting down on his lip, Horatio thought that science and law were things he could do with ease. Parenting, on the other hand…
He just had no idea.
Sighing into the silence, he couldn’t help but wonder if this were a game he was destined to lose, if Kyle, his son, was just one of those things he’d never understand.
Go to the next chapter
Author: Duckie Nicks
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Yelina Salas, Horatio Caine, the whole Caine family
Author's Note: WARNING: SPOILER FOR SEASON 6.
Summary: Almost two decades ago, Horatio made a decision that would change his family forever. Will they ever forgive him? Will he ever tell Yelina how he feels? This is an alternative to the beginning of season 6. A Horatio and Kyle story; H/Y romance in the future.
Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, 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, Chapter 44, Chapter 45, Chapter 46, and Chapter 47.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
“Races are run
Some people win
Some people always have to lose.” - Stevie Nicks
There were many, many things Yelina hated about Stetler. But until now, that had never included his love for running. Really, in all the time they had dated, the brunette had actually appreciated the hobby. Not only had it given her the impetus to work out more, but also… there had been plenty of times when Rick hadn’t been wanted around the house, and running had given him something to do. But more than anything, Yelina had loved the way the exercise had contoured his body, had made him -
No.
No, no, no, no, she told herself, taking a long stride as she ran. She would not think about how attractive her current tormentor was or had been when they were dating. Because that was too much, too nice, and Yelina knew she’d only make it through this last mile if her anger kept her fueled.
Earlier in the day, she’d past her gun test, making sure to inform Stetler that she’d envisioned his head to help her aim. “Good,” he’d told her at the time. “Cause I usually think of you when I come here.”
Her response had been “Wonderful. It’s nice to know that we’re finally on the same page.” But at the time, Yelina had known he didn’t really feel that way. Well, maybe in that particular moment he did, but… if he hadn’t still wanted her, her decision to see Horatio wouldn’t have upset him.
Of course, right now, Yelina couldn’t be sure what was motivating her jogging companion. Whether this was punishment or outright hatred, she didn’t know. And frankly, she didn’t care, because it all amounted to the same thing.
“We’re gonna run twelve laps,” Stetler had told her happily.
But, having seen a sign that explained how long the track was, she had known that this was going to be no small feat. “That’s six miles,” she’d said unenthused.
He’d smiled. “I know. And if you don’t complete it with me, you’re done.”
A part of her had wanted to kill him - still did even. And another piece, one that was less homicidal, had wanted to complain about how stupid this was. Because, she knew, no one had ever been in a situation that required them to run for six miles straight. If there were such instances, then nobody would have gotten fat on the force. Which certainly wasn’t the case. Everyone she’d known had gained weight since joining the MDPD. No one, not even herself, had been exempt from the ten or fifteen pounds that came department issue along with their badges.
Truth be told, if they’d actually had to run six miles at any time, they might not have put on the weight. But as it were, Yelina hadn’t been able to stop herself from thinking that this particular test of Stetler’s was arbitrary and completely pointless.
Instead of arguing, though, she’d nodded her head in agreement. Because, knowing him, she’d understood that there was no point in trying to get him to back off. No matter what she said or did, he would make her run the six miles. And if she complained, he was big enough an ass to make her run more. Which was nothing compared to the idea that complaining would mean he would know she didn’t want to do it.
So she’d kept her mouth shut, and they’d started at nearly a sprint.
But now almost five miles later, their pace was slowing, and Yelina wished she’d given into temptation and killed him long ago.
Not that she couldn’t do this.
She could.
She would.
But her breathing was heavy and shaky, her lungs feeling as though they were on fire. And her muscles had started to burn as well, as did her skin under the heat of the Miami afternoon sun. Yelina’s body was covered in a thin patina of sweat, and though she couldn’t see it, she could feel her curls becoming knotted in the loose bun she’d trapped the strands in. And at this point, each step seemed to echo with the sound of her heartbeat in her ears.
Which wasn’t to say she was doing badly, because really, for a woman who exercised maybe once a month, she was doing well. Or, at least, she was able to keep up with Rick, who, for all of his talk and daily exercise, didn’t look much better than she did.
As if hearing her thoughts, then, he looked over at her and spoke up. “I’m slow, because I already did this once today.”
Once again, temptation struck her, as she wanted to inform him that there was absolutely no reason that they had to do this. But also once more, she realized there was no point in complaining; it wouldn’t help.
Remaining silent until they passed the starting mark, Yelina waited until she felt she could run, talk, and breathe to speak. “You could have just made me do this on my own.”
“I like to run,” he said with a shrug.
She exhaled loudly. “I’m surprised you didn’t follow me, because you were afraid I’d cheat.”
Irritation lacing every word, he told her, “Well, if I thought a person could cheat on this, then I would have definitely expected it from you.” He took a deep breath before finishing, “But since you can’t, that’s not the reason.”
Falling silent, Yelina focused the task on hand. But God, she could hate him so much sometimes, she thought, as she took her next step. And with that in mind, her gait widened, her pace picking up.
The last lap seemed to fly by quicker now, her desire to get away from Stetler pushing her to go faster and harder. And though he was only a few feet behind her, there was something incredibly satisfying in rushing past the finish line before he did.
Of course, Rick didn’t think so, the scowl on his face saying everything he wouldn’t. But she let it go, instead grabbing one of the water bottles they’d set on the bench before starting. She took a long, satisfying drink before asking, “What time do you want me to come in? Or do you have any other pointless tests you want me to take?”
Stetler sneered at her as he dumped some water over his head. “Nine tomorrow,” he told her. And then switching subjects, he asked, “You realize all of this could have been avoided if you’d refused to do everything Horatio asked you to do?”
Immediately, Yelina could feel her blood begin to boil. As tired as she was, as hot as she was, part of her was ready for a fight. Because in her heart, she knew that none of what had happened today was really Horatio’s fault. She’d done what the redhead had wanted, but in the end, it was Stetler who had made her do all of these dumb things - not her brother-in-law. Through gritted teeth, she explained, “He asked for my help. I gave it to him. It was the right thing to do, which I get is difficult for a man like you to understand.”
Using the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe the water and sweat off of his face, Rick looked at her then. “I’m not a bad person,” he argued. “Just because I don’t -”
“I helped him, and I’m not going to apologize for that,” she told him then stubbornly. “And you can play this little game with me all you want,” she nearly snarled back. “But I’m never going to change my mind about that.”
“Of course not,” he snapped. “Yelina Salas knows everything.” He literally through his hands up in the air before taking a long swig from his water bottle. More calmly, he finished the thought. “You’re so self-destructive and arrogant, you’d rather suffer than admit that someone else might be right.”
Raising her chin defiantly, Yelina fought back. “The only suffering I’m currently going through is the kind that I’m experiencing at your hands. I’m not self-destructive -”
“Your sunburn says otherwise,” he interrupted, using a finger to point at her face and shoulders. “And if Horatio’s patterns hold true, you’ll be crying to me about how right I was soon enough.”
She was about to argue some more with him, but he stopped the fight before it even began. Instead of participating in the back and forth, he emptied his water bottle and began to walk away. “See you at nine,” he called over his shoulder.
As his figure got smaller and smaller, Yelina considered chasing after him and… killing him. The image of a bruised and bloody Stetler was a heady one, one that was too enticing to immediately dismiss.
But frankly, after running six miles, she was just too tired.
With a sigh, she threw her empty water bottle away in a nearby trashcan and went home. Exhausted and achy, she, despite knowing he’d said those things to hurt her, couldn’t help but wonder…
Maybe Stetler was right.
Maybe she was that self-destructive and arrogant.
And if that were the case, it was impossible to say where she might end up.
------------------------------
There were many things he could do well - fish, collect evidence, coax a confession out of a criminal. And there were many complicated ideas that Horatio could understand - fusion, Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, his sister-in-law (well, for the most part, anyway).
But today had served only to prove one thing: he didn’t understand everything, and he definitely couldn’t do all of it well. And falling right into the heart of that category was his son, was his ability to parent.
Horatio knew how to be a good CSI but not a good father; Kyle might have been his son, but it honestly felt as though they were different species. For all of the bonding they hadn’t done, the redhead thought that they might as well be from different planets.
Because it really felt as though they weren’t even speaking the same language. He could ask Kyle questions or make small talk, and he’d get a response, but… nothing was ever really being said or learned.
And it wasn’t that Horatio wasn’t trying. God, he was, trying so hard to make some sort of connection with the boy. At this point, it was all he wanted - to have at least… a friendship with him if not anything approaching a normal father/son relationship.
He was trying, he told himself. But each attempt, which he’d carefully crafted in his study over the weekend, had failed so far. For all of his trying, it hadn’t made a difference. Here, he’d fought for custody of the boy, bought him all the things a teenager could possibly want, and tried to cook things for him that he would like.
But it still amounted to nothing.
And after today’s meeting with Kyle’s principal, Horatio couldn’t help but think things were worse. Once again sitting alone in his study, he looked for the answer as to why things should be so bad. But like always, he came up with no real answer, no solution to his problems.
It was almost funny how hopeless this situation was now. He had naïvely believed when he’d first read the DNA test results that that would be the bottom of the hole he’d dug for himself. He’d thought that, by taking the boy in, things could only get better. But in a few short hours, things had gone from quiet to… well, he didn’t even know what this was.
A small part of him whispered in that moment that this was pointless. No matter how much effort he put into this, the results were always the same: the two weren’t any closer than they were before. And paradoxically, Kyle and he were only minutely further apart, which made it… almost easy to believe that nothing had changed or was wrong.
The past two days Horatio had felt the drift, but it was one of those things that was impossible to prove. And the more rational side of him still wanted to believe that maybe things weren’t as bad as he thought they were.
That part of him believed that he was seeing failure where there was none. Which was odd, given that Horatio wasn’t a perfectionist - not really; true, he didn’t like clutter, and he definitely did like to be right, to do the right things. But the redhead didn’t think he was the kind of person to lose sleep over life not going exactly the way he planned.
If he were, he would have never slept.
And yet, Horatio could see how he was acting differently in this. Given the way his own father had treated him, he had always hoped… things could be better with his own son. He had never really dreamed of being a father the same way other parents had felt destined to fulfill that role.
But in the few times when he had considered what he would be like as a father, Horatio had never thought it would be like this. And maybe he wasn’t terrible at it, but somehow the rational part of him could see - the way Kyle had come into his life was hard to get beyond. Was impossible for him to accept, because the boy should have never spent a single night in foster care, should have never gone so long without a father.
Knowing that he felt that way, the redhead couldn’t help but believe that was affecting his own perception of their relationship. He couldn’t help but see failure where there might not have been any, because already he’d screwed up.
And now…
The meeting at the high school had set the drift between Horatio and Kyle into overdrive, and he couldn’t understand why. Try as he might, the redhead couldn’t see where he had gone wrong on this particular day. But obviously… he must have done something horrible.
He’d tried to stave off that feeling of guilt for as long as he could. At first, Horatio had written the silence from his son as… well, the way they normally interacted with one another. Sad as it was, Kyle didn’t talk to him all that much, so Horatio had thought initially that the silence in the car was normal. Because the teenager had never taken the opportunity to chat away with him.
And knowing that, the redhead rationally understood that… it shouldn’t have bothered him; yet, it so clearly had gotten under his skin that Horatio had spent the rest of the drive home wondering what the hell had happened.
It hadn’t hit him until much later that Kyle might be upset over being placed in a grade with teenagers two years younger than him. And upon realizing that, Horatio felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. He’d just assumed the teenager would want to stay where he was, wouldn’t want to miss out on any of his education or make this situation any harder to deal with.
But looking back on the conversation at the school, Horatio had finally seen it through his son’s eyes. Though it had pained him to admit it, the redhead hadn’t been able to ignore the… undercurrent in his own words. He’d denied the test in an attempt to make things easier for the boy, but what Kyle had heard was obviously something else.
That Horatio thought he was stupid.
That Horatio didn’t believe in him.
Even now, alone in his study, the redhead could feel the way those ideas made his skin crawl. They were so far from the truth, so beyond what he’d ever wanted Kyle to feel, and there was no denying: Horatio had screwed up so badly that he doubted he’d ever be able to make it right.
And upon initially realizing his mistake, the redhead had sought out Kyle, had wanted to make things right. But that was easier said than done.
The teenager had been working on his laptop when Horatio had entered the room. The blond’s uneven, slow typing had come to an abrupt halt, and Kyle had turned to look at Horatio expectantly - as if to say, “What do you want?”
“Hey,” Horatio had offered lamely, hoping against all reason and experience that Kyle would start talking.
Which, of course, hadn’t happened. The boy had only looked at him with those dark brown eyes, forcing the redhead to keep talking. “I… I wanted…” He had paused, sighed.
Truth be told, he’d had no idea what to say. “Are you - are we…” He’d let out another sigh, this one longer and more dejected sounding than the last. He was terrible with these conversations - at least with Kyle. And totally resigning himself to failure, Horatio had resorted to small talk. With a forced relaxed look on his face, he had asked, “Ready for school tomorrow?”
Saying nothing, Kyle had only nodded his head.
“Good. That’s… good.” The words, he’d thought at the time, were horribly stilted even to his own ears. “I just wanted… to make sure things were… okay after today.”
“They are,” the teenager had said with a shrug.
“Good,” Horatio had said again. “Because… I thought you might be… upset about not getting the opportunity to take that placement exam.”
Dryly, Kyle had asked, “Do I look upset?”
And even now, Horatio didn’t know whether or not the boy was. As horrible as it was to say that, he… really didn’t know. Although Horatio thought he was reading the situation correctly, from that moment, a doubt had begun to niggle in the back of his mind. A lingering shadow, a voice inside of him had begun to whisper that maybe he really was misreading Kyle.
After all, Horatio had no idea who this kid really was.
But… at the time, he’d told Kyle, “Fair enough. I just wanted you to understand - I’m trying to do what’s best for you. And I don’t think skipping two years of schooling is a wise decision at this point.”
To his own mind, Horatio still thought that what he’d said was the best anyone could do. Or if not the best, he was absolutely sure there were worse things to tell Kyle.
Somehow though… Horatio was sure the boy didn’t agree with him on that.
“It’s cool,” the teenager had replied, effectively ending the conversation.
But it obviously wasn’t cool.
Things were still off, still wrong hours after the fact, and worst of all, Horatio had only the smallest idea of what he’d done wrong. If the problem really were what he’d said in the principal’s office, Kyle refused to let on. And if this growing rift between them was about something else, he had no idea what it was, much less how to fix it.
He was completely out of ideas and solutions. Biting down on his lip, Horatio thought that science and law were things he could do with ease. Parenting, on the other hand…
He just had no idea.
Sighing into the silence, he couldn’t help but wonder if this were a game he was destined to lose, if Kyle, his son, was just one of those things he’d never understand.
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