I'm extremely bothered they haven't done a scene with Horatio visiting Marisol's grave in forever and a half. Unless I'm blind and stupid—then forgive me. This just came out of whining for the humanity we never see these days.
Oh, how I long to own this show some day… in my dreams.
L'amour la Discorde
Horatio knelt down at her grave, setting a dozen black roses next to her tombstone and taking a deep and shaking breath. He went to visit her grave every year, but this was a bit of a special occasion. He just came to see her after another case. Almost exactly like his… except the husband killed his wife. Motive? Money and lust—two things that broke apart any relationship. He was disgusted; hoped he got life in jail. He was glad he had held back his tongue. It would have resulted in something disastrous.
It was peaceful in the cemetery, and that was something he very much enjoyed. He missed the silence of life, the peace and quiet that he rarely got these days at the lab and back at home. Always something to bother him, something that wouldn't leave him alone. But not today. Today he had left his phone in the car, left his weapon in the glove compartment. It was just he and she, the pair of tragic lovers destined for nothing together until he died peacefully or in a hail of gunfire. And judging by the number of enemies he had made…
…the latter was definitely looking more like the outcome of his life.
His voice was strained; much like it was when he was trying to talk to a child victim of sorts. Throat choked up, Horatio couldn't look at the headstone head-on and just kept his eyes towards the ground. "Marisol? It's me, Horatio.
"It's been a long time since I've come here. Just by myself. Without Eric and the team, without anyone else trying to call me when I try to talk to you. I'm sorry. I just—haven't really had the time anymore. It's hard when you're expected to do so much for the city." He gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head and sitting down now in the grass. "I just can't believe what's happened lately. It's been crazy."
There wasn't a voice to comfort him— only the wind, which softly touched his face and whispered sweet nothings in his ears. Horatio still couldn't look at the engraved words, feeling his eyes water now. How long had it been since the lieutenant had actually cried over something? It had been a lengthy time, to say the least. To a point where he thought he had forgotten how to cry. It was a sad and terrible thought, but it was the grim truth of it all.
Horatio finally looked at the headstone, voice shaking more. "I have a confession, Marisol. I've… lost my way."
The wind stopped blowing; the birds ceased their songs. It was an eerie quiet in the yard, only one that he could endure. He continued on, quiet but growing stronger. "I've dabbled into the darkness, Marisol. I swore I would never do it again after your death, but the crimes keep getting more and more heinous. More gangs, more violence in the streets, more sexual assaults… the days keeps growing longer without someone around to be there for me.
"…terrible things are going to happen here. I can feel it. This city is like a bomb waiting to explode, and when it happens, I feel as if I won't be there to stop all the wars and destruction that come with it."
He didn't move from that position, still staring ahead with blurry vision.
"I wish you were here to help me see the light again, Marisol. To save me from this—this abyss I've created for myself. I can't dig out of it alone. I know everyone has his or her dark moments, but I feel like the sun isn't shining anymore. And it won't until I have someone who actually cares about me." Horatio's face broke out into a tearful smile. "Like you did."
He stood up, gazing at the roses and biting his lip. The winds picked up once more, again whispering things in his ears.
He answered the breeze finally, softly.
"I love you."
French for "Discord Love." Oh I wish these things would actually HAPPEN. But we're too focused on other things these days, aren't we? Oh well. I can dream.