Her Dark Life
Author: NotasboredasIlook
Rating: M for profanity, violence and adult situations.
Disclaimers: CSI: Miami and the characters belong to CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer and they have far more time and money than I do. I'm just using the products of their genius for nonprofit fun.
Category: DuCaine. Angst/Drama/Romance (eventually)
Summary: Maybe, just maybe, she WAS starting to lose it. God knew she was probably long overdue for an emotional meltdown. When she thought about it, almost everyone she knew at work had lost it at least once.
My first CSI: Miami fanfic. Please be gentle.
Timeline: CSI: Miami Season 8 through "Bad Seed." After that I take our team in a different direction. No Kyle in Afghanistan and no more Delko and Calleigh rendevous'.
Chapter 1
"She says 'Nobody wants to believe. You're the same as everyone. What makes me unique? My dark life.'" - Elvis Costello, "My Dark Life"
There was something comforting about a dark room. When she was a girl, she would sit alone in her room for hours, with all the lights off, long after the sun had set on the Louisiana landscape. She would think, dream, imagine. It was a time and place where she had peace; where the intoxicated ramblings of her parents and the loud obtrusiveness of her brothers were non-existent. It helped her put things in perspective, and she cherished being able to contemplate her life without distraction.
When they were in the academy, Jake would tease her about her love of the dark. He would smirk in that way he did and say: "Someone that looks like you should always be out in the light." She knew that in his own Jake-like way he was attempting to pay her a compliment, but it never felt like one. In fact, his words always had the opposite effect on her.
After that, she never told the people she let get close to her – who were few and far between – about it. Not Hagen, not Eric. It wasn't a shameful thing by any means, but in a strange way, she felt that – given her line of work – people would belittle or judge her for it.
She had had enough judgment in her life. And given the events of the last month – hell, the last year if she really thought about it – she felt she deserved some time for uninterrupted contemplation.
The only problem being that it was hard to steal time for yourself when you were a Level III crime scene investigator, let alone the assistant day shift supervisor. Because of that, Calleigh reasoned she might as well hole up in a quiet place at the office before the inevitable call to a scene came down.
Quiet time meant she could sort herself out. Pull herself together and get on with her life. Face whatever horrors the next day would throw at her.
Unfortunately, the only thing she had been able to come up with was that she had no idea what was wrong with her.
One thing she knew for certain was that "things" were not been good. Though she had originally chalked it up to Eric's shooting, hospitalization, resignation and the subsequent end of their relationship, she had begun to wonder more and more if this strange feeling of discontent went back to something even further. She had lain awake many nights, trying to pinpoint the source of her tension, only to realize that it had been a current underlying her emotions for a while. It had even been there when she was with Eric … she just hadn't realized it.
That was bugging the crap out of her.
She propped her feet up on the small leather couch and lay back, staring at the slits of light the window shades made on the ceiling of the office. She counted the orange and yellow lines in her mind, finding comfort in the simplicity of it. At that moment, she desperately needed things to be simple, because she was sick to death of "complicated."
Maybe, just maybe she WAS starting to lose it. God knew she was probably long overdue for an emotional meltdown. When she thought about it, almost everyone she knew at work had lost it at least once.
Natalia had dealt with her ex-husband. Ryan had his gambling issue. Frank's wife threw him the mother of all curveballs by hiring someone to seduce him into cheating. Eric was still dealing with his shootings (she grimaced at the reality that the word was in plural).
Even Horatio had his moment.
She itched her nose. She had never asked what happened in Brazil. She didn't want to bring it up. Clearly it had affected both her boss and her best friend. But there was another part of her that was scared to know the truth. Afraid that it would change things …
She managed to hide behind that fear for more than a year. However, when the feds had taken Horatio away to face "justice" in Rio, well, in her heart, she knew she had known all along what he and Eric had done. She just hated that she had to face up to it.
What she hated more was that she found herself judging both of them for it. She knew it wasn't her place. She knew it wasn't her pain – she couldn't even begin to relate to how they suffered at Marisol's murder.
But she also knew the difference between right and wrong. Murder was wrong. There was always a choice. Horatio had been most admired teacher on that lesson. Knowing he had crossed that line hurt her. Even though she knew it was not her place to be "hurt."
She wasn't there. She didn't know specifically what happened. And she didn't want to know. It wasn't any of her business.
She knew damn well that nothing about Horatio's life was her business.
She groaned and rubbed her eyes, pissed at herself for once again going down this toxic path.
She considered going to the gym and taking her frustration out on a punching bag. She even thought about going out to the range. In the past, that had been her tension reliever of choice: Emptying nine or ten clips into however many paper targets she could get.
Today was different, though. She just couldn't muster up enough strength within her to give a damn anymore. About what, she didn't know. She just knew that it wasn't there. Even the idea of faking motivation seemed pointless.
She sighed, closed her eyes for a moment and once again relished the quiet of the room. Rationally, she knew she shouldn't be using her boss' office for "Calleigh time," but Horatio had taken the day off to visit his son, Kyle, and she really just needed a few minutes to herself. It was already late in the day, but a gang-related shooting just before lunch told her she was going to be putting in some overtime. After hours of staring into a microscope, she needed a break. Horatio had given her a key to his office long ago – strictly for emergency purposes.
"I wonder if he would consider an attempt to avoid a mental breakdown an 'emergency,'" she thought, then cringed when she remembered all of grief he had dealt with in the last year concerning Kyle's mother.
She chewed on her bottom lip, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in Horatio's domain. She sat up and ran her hands over her face, berating herself silently for being where she didn't belong. His trust was important to her and she didn't want to jeopardize that.
There was something about that thought that caused her to stop. Swallowing back the residual guilt, she forced herself to analyze what she was feeling. Propping her elbows on her knees, she put her hands together and leaned her face against them. For a split second, she felt almost … jaded. Narrowing her green eyes, she tried to refocus her mind, but it was to no avail. The ever-present anxiety of being alone in the dark of her boss' office without his knowledge was too overpowering.
"Shit," she muttered as she stood up, shaking her head. Thinking she had been foolish to try and seek solitude there in the first place, she turned on her heel and headed for the door. Just as she opened it, she remembered she had taken off her gun and placed it on the side table near the couch. With a groan, she went back to retrieve it.
"You need to pull yourself together, girl," she mentally scolded herself as she clipped her sidearm to her pants. "If anyone knew you were this much of a mess …"
Her thoughts were cut off as the lights came on around her. She froze, cursing the fates.
"Calleigh?"
Realizing she was busted, she slowly turned to meet Horatio's concerned, yet inquisitive gaze. He was an all-too-familiar stance – hands on his hips – staring at her expectantly. His bright red hair appeared to be wind-blown. He held his sunglasses in one hand and his keys in the other.
Calleigh wondered how to explain her presence in his office, but when no words came to mind, she gave him a slight smile and looked down, the flush of embarrassment heating her face and neck.
After she failed to respond, he took a step closer to her. "Is everything okay?" he asked, tilting his head down in an attempt to meet her eyes. He was more confused by her silence than he was by her presence.
She took a couple of steps back and raised her eyes up. "Everything's fine," she said with a half-smile. "I'm sorry about being in here. I, um, just needed a few minutes of quiet. I figured no one would think to look for me in here."
She knew it was a partial truth. Everything was NOT okay, but she gave herself credit for being honest with him about why she was in his private space.
Sensing her discomfort, he nodded and then walked past her to his desk. "No worries," he said, his blue eyes still reflecting his concern. Then he smiled. "Though I must warn you, I have very little luck hiding out here, people always seem to find me."
She frowned and looked away. "I wasn't hiding, exactly."
His eyes narrowed slightly and he leaned against his desk. "Is there something you want to talk about?"
She shook her head, still not meeting his eyes.
He sighed. "You know you can talk to me if something is bothering you."
Calleigh almost laughed out loud. Almost. Instead, she responded with: "I'm fine."
Horatio knew she was lying, but he also knew that he couldn't force a confidence from his partner, so he merely crossed his arms across his chest and nodded. "Okay, then. Have a seat, you can fill me in on what I've missed today."
She could tell by his stance and tone of voice that he didn't believe her, but she didn't have the energy for this discussion, especially since she herself didn't know EXACTLY what her problem was. So she switched tactics.
"How is Kyle liking Dade-U?" she asked, sitting in the nearest chair.
Horatio smiled, still amazed at his son's progress over the last couple of years. The boy had had a very hard life and Horatio was determined to be there for him, to be the family they should have been all along.
"He's doing well. He's making friends, likes his classes," he grinned reflecting back on the afternoon they had spent together. "I had to cut my visit short. Apparently, he has a date tonight. Couldn't have his old man cramping his style."
Calleigh chuckled a bit at this. She liked Kyle. He was a good kid with a good heart. She was glad to see him finally on the right track and enjoying all the things an 18-year-old should be. She remembered that time in her own life when everything seemed positive and new.
She wondered when it was that she started to feel old.
"Well, next time you speak with him, tell him we miss him around here," she said with sincerity. "Hopefully he'll be able to intern with Dr. Lohman during his summer break."
"Mmmm, we'll see," Horatio said, before sitting down in the chair next to Calleigh. He leaned back and rubbed his face in exhaustion. "I … am starting to feel very old."
"Oh, I think you've still got a few more good years in you," she said bemused. "Though I'm sure the criminals of Miami would enjoy it immensely if you decided to retire."
"Retire? Kyle is talking about medical school. I'm never going to be able to retire," he joked, turning his head towards her. He could easily see through her deflection and he knew something had her distressed.
"Have you talked to Eric lately?" he asked softly. He knew they had been in the beginnings of a relationship when everything went to hell with the Russian mafia. When Eric left for Puerto Rico, Horatio had watched Calleigh become more and more distant and, with each passing day, he became more and more worried for her.
She stared ahead of her. "No I haven't," she replied flatly, wanting desperately not to have this conversation. "And I don't think I will be anytime soon."
"I'm sorry."
She smirked. "Don't be."
They sat in an uncomfortable pause for many moments before she sighed, still looking at some unknown point ahead of her.
"We're the last you know."
Horatio tilted his head. He did know what she was referring to, but before he could say anything, Calleigh continued.
"Megan, Eric, Alexx," she swallowed hard. "Tim. We're all that's left of the original team. So much has changed."
"That it has," he said with a nod, trying to understand where she was leading him. But the trip would be short-lived as she rose from her chair and looked down at the floor.
"I need to get back in the lab," she said softly, still not looking at him. "I'm sorry for invading your office."
He gave a small smile and stood as well. "Don't be. I understand the need for quiet."
For reasons she wouldn't be able to comprehend later, her eyes shot up from the floor to meet his own and she blurted out: "I'll bet you do."
When Horatio's eyebrows rose high on his forehead, the reality of what she said smacked her in the face like an open hand. Before he could speak, she put up her hands and shook her head.
"Please, forget I said that," she said, lowering her head and walking quickly out of the room. Horatio walked to the open door and watched as his friend practically flew down the stairs away from his office with her hands tightly clenched at her sides.
"What was THAT all about?" he wondered as he turned and shut the door to his office, vowing to check on her later.
So ... what do you think? Should I keep going? (I heart reviews of all forms)
