No Other One, Chapter 62
Title: No Other One, Chapter 62
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, Chapter 47, Chapter 48, Chapter 49, Chapter 50, Chapter 51, Chapter 52, Chapter 53, Chapter 54, Chapter 55, Chapter 56, Chapter 57, Chapter 58, Chapter 59, Chapter 60, and Chapter 61.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
Chapter Sixty-Two: The pink Tadpole
By Duckie Nicks
“Above all things let us never forget that mankind constitutes one great brotherhood; all born to encounter suffering and sorrow, and therefore bound to sympathize with each other.” - Albert Pike
Yelina had set the terms for him: she wanted a friend.
Everything inside of Horatio screamed that that probably was the last thing she needed at the moment, but he’d agreed to what she wanted anyway; he knew her well enough to know when she was in no mood to compromise. So he’d gone with it, with her wishes, despite knowing that within seconds, he would regret the decision.
And he did regret it in some ways, especially now when she was looking at him to say something, to do something. Because the truth was: he didn’t know what to say as a friend; he didn’t consider himself to be a friend. They were more than that, more than people you simply got a beer with at the end of a rough shift.
Yelina was his family.
The weight of the word one he could never ignore, it was something that made sitting here, on her bed, looking at her black eye, and being expected to ignore it impossible. Clearing his throat, he held up the ice pack he’d stolen from the recesses of her perfectly clean refrigerator. “Put this back on your face.”
Her expression hardened, almost dangerously so. And he knew that he had to quickly backtrack, realizing that he was about to cross a line with her that he had no desire to cross. Innocently, Horatio pointed out, “Friends… can give advice.” But that didn’t sound right to his ears, as it wasn’t really advice he’d been giving, so he corrected, “Friends can make… suggestions.”
Raising an eyebrow at him, she replied, suspicion lacing every word, “You’re making a suggestion.” She pretended to think about it for a second before shaking her head. “Sounds more like an order to me.”
He held up his hands in innocence. “I’m not giving any orders. I can’t force you… to use the ice. But… I think it would be a good idea if you did.”
She looked at him and then down at the icepack resting on his thigh. It was proof enough that she was considering the idea, which bolstered him somewhat, because it meant that she wasn’t annoyed enough to dismiss his ideas outright.
He decided then to push her a little further in order to convince her to take the ice. Of course part of him thought that he might be pressing his luck too much, that they’d just come to some sort of agreement and he’d be wrecking it by cajoling her.
But then Horatio also considered that while a friend might not give orders, a friend would definitely help steer another in the right direction.
… And that was all he was doing, right?
Trying to sound casual, he told her, “I… understand that you’re cold right now. And… I can appreciate that you…” He cocked his head to the side to look at her more sympathetically. “Might be hesitant to… take my advice on account of the fact that it… would be my advice,” he finished.
“Horatio,” she said quickly, her voice chastising. “I’m not so childish as to reject an idea on the basis that it’s yours.”
He wasn’t entirely convinced of that fact, but he decided that it was probably best to go along with it. God only knew he didn’t need to make today worse than it already was by picking a fight with her that they could completely avoid. Easily he agreed with her, “No, I understand that, Yelina. I’m just… trying to say that… as much as I understand your reticence, perhaps it would be a good idea to take the ice.” Going in for the kill, Horatio didn’t give her a chance to speak by telling her, “You don’t use the ice; the swelling doesn’t go down as quickly, and that means you’re going to get a lot of questions at work.”
She was silent for a second, her agreement on the matter practically confirmed in his mind. But he stayed quiet anyway, knowing that she needed to be the one to make the next move.
Biting down on her lower lip for a second, Yelina eventually sighed and reached for the ice. “Fine.” Glad that she was agreeing, Horatio tried to hide the small half-smile playing on his lips form her. But it was clear that he didn’t succeed, because her eyes - well, eye (the one not covered by the ice pack) - narrowed on him. “Don’t do that,” she ordered.
“I’m not doing anything,” he said innocently. His smile easily shifting into a smirk, he immaturely threw her words back at her, “And what happened to no orders?”
“I’m really not in the mood” was all the warning she gave him as she scooted back up the bed. Resting her back against the headboard, she shifted about to get more comfortable.
And Horatio couldn’t help but sigh, the noise covered up by the sound of the icepack crinkling as Yelina put it back on her bruised face. Because as much as he realized he should feel as though he’d won something by getting her to concede to the ice, the fact of the matter was… he felt completely and totally devoid of any sense of success.
How could he feel like anything else when nearly every conversation with Yelina these days ended with a fight? And even if he put that part of his life aside, he still couldn’t feel successful, given the current state of the rest of his family.
Ray had attacked Kyle.
Ray had attacked his own mother.
There was no feeling of success to be had after both of those things had taken place.
And perhaps Yelina picked up on that sense of failure - or felt it herself, because she spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper, “How badly do you think I’ve screwed up if my son is capable of doing… that and I had no idea?”
He looked over toward her, his gaze softening as the sentiment of her words resonated within him. “Yelina… this is not your fault,” he told her in slow tones.
But she didn’t seem convinced. “If this were anyone else, you would blame them. Any other mother you would hold responsible.”
Interestingly enough there was no accusation in her words, just a strong sense of knowing.
Shrugging, she sighed and added, “It’s what people do - blame the mother.”
“Not in this case.”
Truth be told, he wanted to end the conversation there, end it before it got too personal. But Horatio felt he couldn’t do that; he’d known Yelina for years, and he knew when he hadn’t convinced her of anything.
And this was definitely one of those times.
So he confessed in a deep voice, “Not when we both know that… if I’d known about Kyle - been a father to him… this… wouldn’t have happened.”
But his words didn’t have their intended effect.
Instead of drawing out some of the self-recrimination within her, he’d only exacerbated it. And that fact became incredibly apparent when she laughed bitterly. “Horatio… if you’d raised Kyle, the only thing that would happen is that Ray would have attacked someone else.”
“Do you really believe that?” He wasn’t doubtful, just curious.
“I know it.” There was a slight pause from her before she added, “I am convinced of it.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. “Because even without your mistakes, he would still be… screwed up enough to do that. To get into a fight, I mean.”
In some ways, Horatio didn’t disagree, but given that Ray Junior was his nephew, the redhead felt that he should fight for the boy anyway. “He’s a boy; boys get into -”
She cut him off with an angry glare followed by the even angrier words, “Oh, do not try and give me the old ‘boys will be boys.’”
“Well…”
Her response was nearly a snarl. “Acting like a sociopath does not fall into that -”
“He was angry… jealous, Yelina.” He gave her a look that was a cross between knowing and imploring. “And I know that you are capable of… understanding what that feels like.”
Dropping the ice pack on her lap, she peered at him through disbelieving eyes. “I have been jealous and angry in my life, yes. But I have never attacked someone, much less someone in my own family.” He was about to say something, but she spoke up first. “And don’t try to convince me that the difference between him and myself is that I’m a woman. Having seen what women are capable of, you should know - ”
“I wasn’t going to try to convince you of that,” he consoled in a soothing voice. A wry smile tugging at his lips, Horatio quipped, “I cannot possibly argue that men… have the greater temper when… I… know you.”
The joke hit home - he could tell - despite her obvious desire to remain serious; her lips turned ever so slightly upward, the irritation visible in her eyes completely forced, letting him know that she was enjoying the comment even as she pretended to despise it. “You’re not funny,” she forced herself to say.
Her words made him grin. “It’s a little funny.”
“It really isn’t.” She irritably buried under the covers a little more. “And joking aside,” Yelina quickly added, changing the topic of conversation forcefully. “We should… I don’t know - try to figure out what to do with Ray Junior.”
His smile disappeared as the reality of the situation flooded his senses. All of a sudden feeling incredibly sobered, Horatio sighed loudly.
He hadn’t honestly expected the reason he was currently with Yelina to disappear; what Ray Junior had done was too serious to allow for that. But nevertheless…
Horatio would have liked a few minutes where he didn’t have to consider just how horribly adrift their family currently was. “The boy’s going to apologize,” he offered, almost in the hope that it would be enough to make everything right again.
But Yelina wasn’t willing to let him keep the naïveté he was currently grasping at. “And that’s going to make everything okay?” There was disbelief and disdain lacing every tone, rounding out her rich accent. Scoffing at him, she said, “We probably shouldn’t have even left Raymond alone.”
He cocked his head towards her. “You don’t believe that he would do something… stupid. Do you?”
His question wasn’t a matter of concern over the possibilities over what Ray Junior might do; truth be told, despite everything that the boy had done today, Horatio didn’t believe that the teenager would do something stupid now. Not when his mother and Horatio himself were here, ready to stop him. Ray had his problems - obviously, he did - but Horatio believed in his heart that there were some things the boy just wasn’t capable of and hurting another family member when he’d said he wouldn’t, hurting another when there was almost a sure chance of being caught and punished just wasn’t one of them.
That Yelina seemed to disagree with this assessment struck Horatio as curious, so he’d asked the question.
“I’m surprised that you don’t,” she said darkly. “He knew it was wrong to attack Kyle the first time. And the second time, but that surely didn’t stop him.”
It was a point he couldn’t deny but one he had an impulse to fight nonetheless. Because if he just accepted that what she was saying was true, then there was no hope for his nephew.
And that thought was simply too frightening to consider.
“Yelina,” he warned her. “You cannot give up on the boy.”
Her eyes narrowed on him in a manner that reminded him of hawks spotting their prey. Hot anger rolled off of her body in waves, the emotion easily enveloping him in the knowledge that he needed to tread carefully. However, before he even had a chance to say anything more, Yelina let it be known that he had, in fact, already crossed a line. “Do not tell me what I can and cannot do. And do not tell me to do something you yourself are so unwilling to do for your own son.”
There was no hiding just how taken aback he was by the bitterness of her words. His eyes widening a little, he was surprised by just how quickly the overall mood in the room could change.
“I’m not giving up on him, Horatio,” she told him, the words awkwardly coming out of her. “I am simply accepting that…” She ran her tongue along her teeth, as she seemed to ponder what her next words should be. “Raymond is not the boy I envisioned him to be. I trusted him to know where the limits were; he has shown that he doesn’t or doesn’t care.”
Shifting the ice pack in her hand a little, Yelina shrugged before offering gravely, “I suppose I should have known that he would need that sort of thing to be explicitly spelled out for him… I should have known what he needed.”
A sadness descended upon them that both seemed to clearly feel. Her vicious words were promptly forgotten when compared to what she was saying now.
Licking his lips, he replied slowly, consolingly, “You… can’t blame yourself.”
She smiled a little, but it was completely devoid of happiness. “I… never wanted to be like my mother,” she admitted tentatively, plopping the ice unceremoniously onto the nightstand next to her.
“Well, thank God for that,” he replied with a soft smile.
There was perhaps a little bit more truth in the joke than he would have liked to admit. Although his interactions with Yelina’s mother had been few and far between, Horatio could honestly say that each and every one of them had been more miserable than the last.
She was… completely unlike Yelina, so much so that the fact that Yelina had come from that woman seemed almost impossible.
With no exaggeration, they were completely different. Where as Yelina was compassionate, the other was largely unsympathetic towards anyone. Where as one had a nearly infinite amount of patience, the other constantly seemed ready to violently boil over. And maybe most importantly, for Horatio anyway, where as one was his friend, his family, the other looked at him as though he were personally the devil.
Granted, as of late, the younger Salas seemed almost intent on imitating the elder one… but Horatio couldn’t hold that against Yelina. Not really anyway, because in his heart, he knew that he deserved to be treated with such palpable disdain.
Pushing the depressing thought aside immediately, he tried to pay attention to what Yelina was saying in response to his remark. To be honest, he sort of expected her to be angry. But she wasn’t - not even in the least.
“You don’t know the half of it,” she said dryly.
That much was obviously true. Aside from his own personal experiences with the woman, he only knew what his brother, nephew, and Yelina herself had told him. And what he’d heard…
Well, it had never been good.
Horatio didn’t really know if there were positive things to be said about the woman. All he knew was that what little he had heard was enough to make him angry at and distrustful of the person responsible for raising Yelina.
His eyes warmly looking her over, he wondered if he should press Yelina for details and almost immediately decided against it. Aside from the fact that she was in no mood to be pushed, he could empathize all too well with her desire for privacy. And considering he’d never spoken to her about his own childhood with candor, he realized that it would be unfair, to say the least, to ask her to do the same. So he simply said nothing at all, instead choosing to wait her out and see what she would do next.
“There’s this… story in Colombia, a fairy tale, I guess… something parents read to their children all the time, anyway,” she said suddenly, the non sequitur piquing his curiosity. He wasn’t sure how this was related to anything they’d been talking about, but he figured it was best to stay quiet.
Shaking her head a little, Yelina explained, “I don’t remember the name exactly, but it was about this pink tadpole who ignored his mother and went outside to play with his friends.” She paused for a moment before adding, “They were rats or mice - something in that family. And they all ignore their parents and go outside and get drunk and end up dying. Something - I don’t remember what - eats them.”
“Sounds like a classic,” Horatio replied dryly.
The comment made her smile widely and shake her head vehemently. “No, it’s a terrible story,” she admitted, her grin staying in place. “The whole thing used to terrify me - the idea that I would die if I did something my parents disapproved of I mean.”
And then she immediately sobered up.
Her good mood vanishing, Yelina confessed, “I didn’t… want Ray Junior to ever feel that… his goal in life was to please me.” Her voice trailed off slowly, the words taking on a pensive quality towards the end in such a way that suggested to him that she was second-guessing that choice.
“Yelina,” he told her gently as he shifted a little on the bed. “You… did not do anything wrong.”
But she was clearly unconvinced by his reassurance. “If that were true, we wouldn’t be here” was her curt reply.
“That’s not true. I haven’t exactly… helped matters.” He didn’t expect her to deny what he was saying and as a result wasn’t surprised when she said nothing.
Which wasn’t to say that it didn’t hurt a little. This entire time he’d been defending her choices in life, trying to reassure her that she was a great mother, and simply put… it would have been nice to have her return the favor.
But instead, she quietly asked, “What are we going to do?”
Not for the first time since Kyle had come into their lives, Horatio didn’t have an answer.
End (63/??)
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, Chapter 47, Chapter 48, Chapter 49, Chapter 50, Chapter 51, Chapter 52, Chapter 53, Chapter 54, Chapter 55, Chapter 56, Chapter 57, Chapter 58, Chapter 59, Chapter 60, and Chapter 61.
Disclaimer: I don't own the show.
Chapter Sixty-Two: The pink Tadpole
By Duckie Nicks
“Above all things let us never forget that mankind constitutes one great brotherhood; all born to encounter suffering and sorrow, and therefore bound to sympathize with each other.” - Albert Pike
Yelina had set the terms for him: she wanted a friend.
Everything inside of Horatio screamed that that probably was the last thing she needed at the moment, but he’d agreed to what she wanted anyway; he knew her well enough to know when she was in no mood to compromise. So he’d gone with it, with her wishes, despite knowing that within seconds, he would regret the decision.
And he did regret it in some ways, especially now when she was looking at him to say something, to do something. Because the truth was: he didn’t know what to say as a friend; he didn’t consider himself to be a friend. They were more than that, more than people you simply got a beer with at the end of a rough shift.
Yelina was his family.
The weight of the word one he could never ignore, it was something that made sitting here, on her bed, looking at her black eye, and being expected to ignore it impossible. Clearing his throat, he held up the ice pack he’d stolen from the recesses of her perfectly clean refrigerator. “Put this back on your face.”
Her expression hardened, almost dangerously so. And he knew that he had to quickly backtrack, realizing that he was about to cross a line with her that he had no desire to cross. Innocently, Horatio pointed out, “Friends… can give advice.” But that didn’t sound right to his ears, as it wasn’t really advice he’d been giving, so he corrected, “Friends can make… suggestions.”
Raising an eyebrow at him, she replied, suspicion lacing every word, “You’re making a suggestion.” She pretended to think about it for a second before shaking her head. “Sounds more like an order to me.”
He held up his hands in innocence. “I’m not giving any orders. I can’t force you… to use the ice. But… I think it would be a good idea if you did.”
She looked at him and then down at the icepack resting on his thigh. It was proof enough that she was considering the idea, which bolstered him somewhat, because it meant that she wasn’t annoyed enough to dismiss his ideas outright.
He decided then to push her a little further in order to convince her to take the ice. Of course part of him thought that he might be pressing his luck too much, that they’d just come to some sort of agreement and he’d be wrecking it by cajoling her.
But then Horatio also considered that while a friend might not give orders, a friend would definitely help steer another in the right direction.
… And that was all he was doing, right?
Trying to sound casual, he told her, “I… understand that you’re cold right now. And… I can appreciate that you…” He cocked his head to the side to look at her more sympathetically. “Might be hesitant to… take my advice on account of the fact that it… would be my advice,” he finished.
“Horatio,” she said quickly, her voice chastising. “I’m not so childish as to reject an idea on the basis that it’s yours.”
He wasn’t entirely convinced of that fact, but he decided that it was probably best to go along with it. God only knew he didn’t need to make today worse than it already was by picking a fight with her that they could completely avoid. Easily he agreed with her, “No, I understand that, Yelina. I’m just… trying to say that… as much as I understand your reticence, perhaps it would be a good idea to take the ice.” Going in for the kill, Horatio didn’t give her a chance to speak by telling her, “You don’t use the ice; the swelling doesn’t go down as quickly, and that means you’re going to get a lot of questions at work.”
She was silent for a second, her agreement on the matter practically confirmed in his mind. But he stayed quiet anyway, knowing that she needed to be the one to make the next move.
Biting down on her lower lip for a second, Yelina eventually sighed and reached for the ice. “Fine.” Glad that she was agreeing, Horatio tried to hide the small half-smile playing on his lips form her. But it was clear that he didn’t succeed, because her eyes - well, eye (the one not covered by the ice pack) - narrowed on him. “Don’t do that,” she ordered.
“I’m not doing anything,” he said innocently. His smile easily shifting into a smirk, he immaturely threw her words back at her, “And what happened to no orders?”
“I’m really not in the mood” was all the warning she gave him as she scooted back up the bed. Resting her back against the headboard, she shifted about to get more comfortable.
And Horatio couldn’t help but sigh, the noise covered up by the sound of the icepack crinkling as Yelina put it back on her bruised face. Because as much as he realized he should feel as though he’d won something by getting her to concede to the ice, the fact of the matter was… he felt completely and totally devoid of any sense of success.
How could he feel like anything else when nearly every conversation with Yelina these days ended with a fight? And even if he put that part of his life aside, he still couldn’t feel successful, given the current state of the rest of his family.
Ray had attacked Kyle.
Ray had attacked his own mother.
There was no feeling of success to be had after both of those things had taken place.
And perhaps Yelina picked up on that sense of failure - or felt it herself, because she spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper, “How badly do you think I’ve screwed up if my son is capable of doing… that and I had no idea?”
He looked over toward her, his gaze softening as the sentiment of her words resonated within him. “Yelina… this is not your fault,” he told her in slow tones.
But she didn’t seem convinced. “If this were anyone else, you would blame them. Any other mother you would hold responsible.”
Interestingly enough there was no accusation in her words, just a strong sense of knowing.
Shrugging, she sighed and added, “It’s what people do - blame the mother.”
“Not in this case.”
Truth be told, he wanted to end the conversation there, end it before it got too personal. But Horatio felt he couldn’t do that; he’d known Yelina for years, and he knew when he hadn’t convinced her of anything.
And this was definitely one of those times.
So he confessed in a deep voice, “Not when we both know that… if I’d known about Kyle - been a father to him… this… wouldn’t have happened.”
But his words didn’t have their intended effect.
Instead of drawing out some of the self-recrimination within her, he’d only exacerbated it. And that fact became incredibly apparent when she laughed bitterly. “Horatio… if you’d raised Kyle, the only thing that would happen is that Ray would have attacked someone else.”
“Do you really believe that?” He wasn’t doubtful, just curious.
“I know it.” There was a slight pause from her before she added, “I am convinced of it.”
“Why?”
“Because…” Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. “Because even without your mistakes, he would still be… screwed up enough to do that. To get into a fight, I mean.”
In some ways, Horatio didn’t disagree, but given that Ray Junior was his nephew, the redhead felt that he should fight for the boy anyway. “He’s a boy; boys get into -”
She cut him off with an angry glare followed by the even angrier words, “Oh, do not try and give me the old ‘boys will be boys.’”
“Well…”
Her response was nearly a snarl. “Acting like a sociopath does not fall into that -”
“He was angry… jealous, Yelina.” He gave her a look that was a cross between knowing and imploring. “And I know that you are capable of… understanding what that feels like.”
Dropping the ice pack on her lap, she peered at him through disbelieving eyes. “I have been jealous and angry in my life, yes. But I have never attacked someone, much less someone in my own family.” He was about to say something, but she spoke up first. “And don’t try to convince me that the difference between him and myself is that I’m a woman. Having seen what women are capable of, you should know - ”
“I wasn’t going to try to convince you of that,” he consoled in a soothing voice. A wry smile tugging at his lips, Horatio quipped, “I cannot possibly argue that men… have the greater temper when… I… know you.”
The joke hit home - he could tell - despite her obvious desire to remain serious; her lips turned ever so slightly upward, the irritation visible in her eyes completely forced, letting him know that she was enjoying the comment even as she pretended to despise it. “You’re not funny,” she forced herself to say.
Her words made him grin. “It’s a little funny.”
“It really isn’t.” She irritably buried under the covers a little more. “And joking aside,” Yelina quickly added, changing the topic of conversation forcefully. “We should… I don’t know - try to figure out what to do with Ray Junior.”
His smile disappeared as the reality of the situation flooded his senses. All of a sudden feeling incredibly sobered, Horatio sighed loudly.
He hadn’t honestly expected the reason he was currently with Yelina to disappear; what Ray Junior had done was too serious to allow for that. But nevertheless…
Horatio would have liked a few minutes where he didn’t have to consider just how horribly adrift their family currently was. “The boy’s going to apologize,” he offered, almost in the hope that it would be enough to make everything right again.
But Yelina wasn’t willing to let him keep the naïveté he was currently grasping at. “And that’s going to make everything okay?” There was disbelief and disdain lacing every tone, rounding out her rich accent. Scoffing at him, she said, “We probably shouldn’t have even left Raymond alone.”
He cocked his head towards her. “You don’t believe that he would do something… stupid. Do you?”
His question wasn’t a matter of concern over the possibilities over what Ray Junior might do; truth be told, despite everything that the boy had done today, Horatio didn’t believe that the teenager would do something stupid now. Not when his mother and Horatio himself were here, ready to stop him. Ray had his problems - obviously, he did - but Horatio believed in his heart that there were some things the boy just wasn’t capable of and hurting another family member when he’d said he wouldn’t, hurting another when there was almost a sure chance of being caught and punished just wasn’t one of them.
That Yelina seemed to disagree with this assessment struck Horatio as curious, so he’d asked the question.
“I’m surprised that you don’t,” she said darkly. “He knew it was wrong to attack Kyle the first time. And the second time, but that surely didn’t stop him.”
It was a point he couldn’t deny but one he had an impulse to fight nonetheless. Because if he just accepted that what she was saying was true, then there was no hope for his nephew.
And that thought was simply too frightening to consider.
“Yelina,” he warned her. “You cannot give up on the boy.”
Her eyes narrowed on him in a manner that reminded him of hawks spotting their prey. Hot anger rolled off of her body in waves, the emotion easily enveloping him in the knowledge that he needed to tread carefully. However, before he even had a chance to say anything more, Yelina let it be known that he had, in fact, already crossed a line. “Do not tell me what I can and cannot do. And do not tell me to do something you yourself are so unwilling to do for your own son.”
There was no hiding just how taken aback he was by the bitterness of her words. His eyes widening a little, he was surprised by just how quickly the overall mood in the room could change.
“I’m not giving up on him, Horatio,” she told him, the words awkwardly coming out of her. “I am simply accepting that…” She ran her tongue along her teeth, as she seemed to ponder what her next words should be. “Raymond is not the boy I envisioned him to be. I trusted him to know where the limits were; he has shown that he doesn’t or doesn’t care.”
Shifting the ice pack in her hand a little, Yelina shrugged before offering gravely, “I suppose I should have known that he would need that sort of thing to be explicitly spelled out for him… I should have known what he needed.”
A sadness descended upon them that both seemed to clearly feel. Her vicious words were promptly forgotten when compared to what she was saying now.
Licking his lips, he replied slowly, consolingly, “You… can’t blame yourself.”
She smiled a little, but it was completely devoid of happiness. “I… never wanted to be like my mother,” she admitted tentatively, plopping the ice unceremoniously onto the nightstand next to her.
“Well, thank God for that,” he replied with a soft smile.
There was perhaps a little bit more truth in the joke than he would have liked to admit. Although his interactions with Yelina’s mother had been few and far between, Horatio could honestly say that each and every one of them had been more miserable than the last.
She was… completely unlike Yelina, so much so that the fact that Yelina had come from that woman seemed almost impossible.
With no exaggeration, they were completely different. Where as Yelina was compassionate, the other was largely unsympathetic towards anyone. Where as one had a nearly infinite amount of patience, the other constantly seemed ready to violently boil over. And maybe most importantly, for Horatio anyway, where as one was his friend, his family, the other looked at him as though he were personally the devil.
Granted, as of late, the younger Salas seemed almost intent on imitating the elder one… but Horatio couldn’t hold that against Yelina. Not really anyway, because in his heart, he knew that he deserved to be treated with such palpable disdain.
Pushing the depressing thought aside immediately, he tried to pay attention to what Yelina was saying in response to his remark. To be honest, he sort of expected her to be angry. But she wasn’t - not even in the least.
“You don’t know the half of it,” she said dryly.
That much was obviously true. Aside from his own personal experiences with the woman, he only knew what his brother, nephew, and Yelina herself had told him. And what he’d heard…
Well, it had never been good.
Horatio didn’t really know if there were positive things to be said about the woman. All he knew was that what little he had heard was enough to make him angry at and distrustful of the person responsible for raising Yelina.
His eyes warmly looking her over, he wondered if he should press Yelina for details and almost immediately decided against it. Aside from the fact that she was in no mood to be pushed, he could empathize all too well with her desire for privacy. And considering he’d never spoken to her about his own childhood with candor, he realized that it would be unfair, to say the least, to ask her to do the same. So he simply said nothing at all, instead choosing to wait her out and see what she would do next.
“There’s this… story in Colombia, a fairy tale, I guess… something parents read to their children all the time, anyway,” she said suddenly, the non sequitur piquing his curiosity. He wasn’t sure how this was related to anything they’d been talking about, but he figured it was best to stay quiet.
Shaking her head a little, Yelina explained, “I don’t remember the name exactly, but it was about this pink tadpole who ignored his mother and went outside to play with his friends.” She paused for a moment before adding, “They were rats or mice - something in that family. And they all ignore their parents and go outside and get drunk and end up dying. Something - I don’t remember what - eats them.”
“Sounds like a classic,” Horatio replied dryly.
The comment made her smile widely and shake her head vehemently. “No, it’s a terrible story,” she admitted, her grin staying in place. “The whole thing used to terrify me - the idea that I would die if I did something my parents disapproved of I mean.”
And then she immediately sobered up.
Her good mood vanishing, Yelina confessed, “I didn’t… want Ray Junior to ever feel that… his goal in life was to please me.” Her voice trailed off slowly, the words taking on a pensive quality towards the end in such a way that suggested to him that she was second-guessing that choice.
“Yelina,” he told her gently as he shifted a little on the bed. “You… did not do anything wrong.”
But she was clearly unconvinced by his reassurance. “If that were true, we wouldn’t be here” was her curt reply.
“That’s not true. I haven’t exactly… helped matters.” He didn’t expect her to deny what he was saying and as a result wasn’t surprised when she said nothing.
Which wasn’t to say that it didn’t hurt a little. This entire time he’d been defending her choices in life, trying to reassure her that she was a great mother, and simply put… it would have been nice to have her return the favor.
But instead, she quietly asked, “What are we going to do?”
Not for the first time since Kyle had come into their lives, Horatio didn’t have an answer.
End (63/??)