For Nov 13th – To Write Love on Her Arms Day
For those of you who don't know, To Write Love on Her Arms (TWLOHA) is an American non-profit organization which aims to present hope and find help for people struggling with problems such as depression, drug addiction, self-injury, and suicide.
I do not own or claim to own CSI: Miami characters. This is fanmade and I make absolutely no profit off of this. I do this for my own amusement.
***
Alone
Rick Stetler sat quietly behind his desk in his corner office on the third floor of the Miami-Dade Police Department. He hadn't picked up a file or opened his briefcase since he arrived, and that was three hours ago. He simply rested with half his face buried in a palm, holding a black gel pen over a blank sheet of paper. And although his mind had been scattered all over the map for the past few days, he couldn't find any words.
He rubbed his eyes and looked down at his fingertips. They shone slightly with the water from the unfallen tears that had collected on his lashes. He looked sadly down at them, rubbing his thumb over the tips until the tears had disappeared. He sighed deeply, twirling the pen between his fingers.
Rick wasn't unfamiliar with the feelings that clouded his mind; every month or so he would have a night where he would sit at home for hours, just crying alone. Alone, that was the problem. Although his immediate family was very much alive, he never felt that they really loved him. His entire life he felt like an outcast, he never needed many people to be close to, but he was often nothing more than alone.
He knew he was clingy to those who got too close to him, he felt that if he wasn't that they would slip through his fingers. Lots of people were turned off by that once they got to know him. And even more people turned away because of his occasional violent outbursts. He couldn't stop himself, although he knew that things would be different if he could just get his short temper under control.
There were only two people who Rick would have ever called a friend...
***
Flashback, 1971:
The first friend Rick ever had was an older man who lived down the street from him when he was a child. His name was Scott; and out of respect, not relations, Rick called him Uncle Scott. Nobody really talked to him, he was a loner too. Perhaps that was what brought Rick to walk by his house every day when he walked to and from school. Although the front door was almost always closed, there was an upstairs window that stayed propped open. Rick used to stand outside Uncle Scott's house, listening to the middle-aged man play the piano and sing for hours on end.
One day Rick got the courage to go up and knock on the front door. Scott was a thin and balding man, who had long light brown hair; his image reminded Rick of the picture of Shakespeare hanging in the library. He told Scott that he loved the music he played. The two became fast friends, the front door always open from that day on. They made it a habit to talk every Friday, skipping a week or so if Rick needed to study or something similar.
It was in the late winter, Rick had decided that it was too much effort to pull on all his jackets and boots to go and visit Uncle Scott that week. Besides, there was a book Rick wanted to finish.
Uncle Scott died the next Monday, he had a heart attack soon after Rick left for school. The young Rick was shattered; he felt that if he had just seen Scott one last time that things could have been different. Even though nobody knew what would happen. Maybe, for some reason, he would have had the impulse to say, for the first and possibly only time, "I love you, Uncle Scott". The love someone has for a teacher and friend sometimes feels more important than any romantic love.
Uncle Scott was the first; Jack was Rick's second friend.
***
Flashback, 1972
Rick was a teenager when he first felt true romantic love, but to understand that you have to understand how broken he was after Uncle Scott died. For about a month after the tragedy Rick didn't smile, nobody really noticed. It took until early summer when Rick began to laugh again, again, nobody really noticed. He didn't really want to befriend anyone; he didn't want to end up hurting himself again.
But Jack changed all that. Jack was just a few months older than Rick; he had black hair and dark brown eyes that seemed to contain the night sky. Rick knew his preferences beyond a shadow of a doubt by the time he reached 13. They met in the library, equally surrounded by books; eventually they got to talking and saw how much they had in common. Jack was bookworm, but he also was a musician, he played first violin in the orchestra.
One day, Jack offhandedly mentioned that his older brother, another musician, had a concert that weekend. Rick went, to this day he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear this "famous" brother play the beautiful music Jack described, or if it was to see Jack.
Either way, the night of the concert was something that Rick could never forget. At the intermission he saw Jack laughing and running around with his musician friends. Despite Rick's shy nature, he found his feet leading him towards Jack, as if he was being pushed. The next thing he knew, he was standing next to him. Everyone looked at Rick as if to ask him to go away… everyone except for Jack. He just smiled and laughed at his other friends' confusion, inviting Rick to join the conversation.
There must have been something in the way the moonlight caught Jack's hair or something in his smile or maybe just his kindness, because Rick couldn't stop thinking about him for the rest of the concert. In fact, when it came time for Rick to go home, he stepped out of the building and he doesn't remember his feet ever touching the ground. He must have flown home. It wasn't until he was lying on his bed and laughing to himself that he realized that he had fallen in love.
Jack was a godsend, he freed Rick from the sadness that came in the wake of Uncle Scott's death. In fact, Rick was pretty sure that Jack was a gift from heaven; a friend Uncle Scott sent so he wouldn't be so lonely. To this day, Rick was pretty sure that he fell in love with an angel that night.
Jack was why Rick decided to take up the violin, originally he just wanted to spend some time with Jack, but after a short while he fell in love with the instrument. Jack brought music into Rick's life in a way it had never been before; Rick was eternally grateful for that. The music and the laugher that Jack so generously offered still live quietly in the dark corners of Rick's heart.
Things started out well enough; until Rick's violent outbursts began to surface. A girl confided in him that she wanted to date Jack because she had a dream that he was really good in bed. Rick snapped, not knowing how jealous he could become until that moment. He called her a whore and stormed off. She went crying off to Jack, who to this day had never heard the full story. Rick knew that he knew better than to go flying off the handle, but he couldn't hold himself back. From then on, their friendship had been shaky at best.
Jack would disappear during the summer, visiting his mother's side of the family out on the east coast. When he would come back the next school year he always seemed to be a different person, the drinking and the drugs and the womanizing slowly merging into Jack's life. Rick never knew what it was that took away the sweet innocent boy he fell in love with, but whatever it was he hated it and always will.
Near the end of their high school careers Jack had changed dramatically. He was incredibly moody, and the rumors of Rick breaking up him and his last girlfriend weren't helping the situation. Rick didn't do that, he despised the girl but he knew how happy Jack was when he was with her; he could never hurt Jack.
One day Jack finally yelled at Rick, demanding what he wanted from him. Rick quietly left Jack to have his tantrum; there was no point in trying to talk with him when he was so riled up. He went straight home after school and wrote a note, line after line of his true feelings for him. He was finally able to tell Jack that he loved him, and that all he could want was for him to be happy.
Rick knew that he should be thankful for how accepting and understanding Jack was. But what Rick really wanted was to be able to spend the rest of his life by the side of the man he loved. Jack tried to gently let Rick down, not wanting to hurt an old friend too badly, but knowing that he could never return the emotion.
After graduation they saw very little of each other, perhaps it was better that way. The Jack he fell in love with was dead anyways, whatever changed him during the summers had killed him. Although at times he would almost swear that the old Jack would re-surface every now and again; just often enough to give him hope.
***
The present:
Rick knew that he should feel better because he was able to tell Jack that he loved him; but part of him was pretty sure that Jack simply didn't care. He often found himself wondering who could ever want to love a clingy, violent, yet quiet little spaz such as himself. He felt that he was just put on this earth for other people to put up with. But worst of all, he felt unloved and useless.
And it was this that brings him back to his original question, which was why he has been unable to focus on anything the past few days. He couldn't help but to think that the world would be better off without him. Maybe the greatest favor he could give to the people he cared about was to stop existing. Everything was lined up back at home; the wine and the arsenic were waiting for him to come to them after polishing off a last meal.
On the blank sheet of paper he felt that he should offer some sort of explanation, but he couldn't think of anyone who would read it, much less care.
He wiped another tear away as he heard a soft knock on his office door.
"Come in," he called.
Rick's assistant, Molly, poked her head into his office, "Sergeant, you're needed down in CSI. Duquesne is under suspicion of drinking on duty. Testimony of a suspect in the case she's on".
"I'll get right on it," Rick nodded.
He picked up his voice recorder and breathalyzer from his desk drawer; turning them in his hands, as if he could say goodbye to them.
One might find it strange that Rick would choose to even go to work on what he planned to be his last day. But there was one person he needed to speak with one last time. In an ideal setting, there would be enough time for Rick to explain everything and give a real apology. But then, in an ideal setting, things would be a lot different.
After Jack there was one man he really loved, a young student he met in New York when he was studying psychology. Before then he was never sure he believed in love at first sight, but he could never find any other explanation for what he felt when he first looked into the other man's brilliant blue eyes. Everything about him just seemed so warm and inviting, from his pale skin to his soft red hair. Even his name was appealing: Horatio Caine.
***
Flashback, 1979:
It all happened in an instant, as these things usually do. It was almost like they walked into a storybook or a movie or something. The logical part of Rick didn't want to believe that love at first sight could happen, but the rest of him wished it could more than anything else in the world. And that was probably what made his heart skip a beat when he first saw Horatio.
He was on his way to Behavioral Psychology from lunch when he passed Horatio in the halls, or rather, ran into Horatio in the halls.
Rick was so riled up for the guest lecturer, Dr. Harry Harlow, that he wasn't paying attention to where he was going. One moment he was half-sprinting around the corner to the lecture hall to get a good seat, and the next he was on the floor and it is raining notes.
"I'm so sorry," Rick stammered, hoping he didn't crash into one of his lecturers, or even worse, Dr. Harlow.
"It's alright," a soft, low voice answered.
When Rick saw who was speaking, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor and his heart forgot to beat for a moment. In front of him, on the floor, was a young, lean, and incredibly handsome man, just a few years older than Rick. He was dressed in a black turtleneck and tight fitting jeans. He leaned forward, flashing his brilliant red hair as he picked up the beret that had tumbled from his head.
Rick began to pick up his notes, stopping when he saw unfamiliar symbols covering a sheet of notebook paper. The redhead laughed at Rick's puzzled expression.
"Those are my Chemistry notes," he smiled, separating out Rick's Psychology notes.
Rick looked down and saw a graded paper that had slid under one of his textbooks. It was covered with the same symbols as the last note sheet he picked up. The name in the upper right hand corner read Horatio Caine.
"I am glad to see you well: Horatio," Rick said with a gentle smile, "-or I do forget myself".
"The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever," Horatio smirked. "Hamlet. I get it all the time whenever I walk by the fine arts buildings".
"I'm sorry".
"It's okay," the redhead shrugged, as he handed Rick back his notes, "I kind of like it. But I didn't catch your name".
"Oh, it's Rick," he answered as they stood up, "Rick Stetler".
"Pleased to meet you, Rick," he smiled, extending his hand to shake the other man's.
His grip was firm, but not crushing. Rick blushed slightly as he realized that Horatio was probably feeling how sweaty his palms were. His hand turned to putty when wrapped in the older man's long pale fingers.
"Well," Horatio sighed, "I'll let you get to… wherever you were running to".
"Right…" the brunette nodded, almost completely forgetting about the lecture, "Again, I'm really sorry".
"Don't worry about it," he smiled, "I'm fine".
The two of them began to walk their separate ways, Rick trying to wrap his head around what exactly he was feeling for the older man.
"I'll see you around," Horatio called out over his shoulder.
"What? Oh. Yeah… see ya'," Rick stammered, happy that Horatio didn't see how much he was blushing.
They never shared a class, but they saw each other around the science building. It was Horatio who convinced Rick to join the police academy with him. But then, Horatio could convince Rick to do just about anything.
When Horatio left New York to escape bad memories, Rick followed him to Miami. Although Horatio seemed to be pretty convinced by that "needing to be in warmer climate" bullshit Rick gave him. Horatio had no idea that Rick felt anything romantic towards him; perhaps it was better that way.
***
The Present
Rick walked down the stairs to the brightly lit glass hallway of the CSI lab. He looked around. Eric and Natalia were comforting Calleigh as Rick approached her.
"Ms. Duquesne?" Rick started as gently as he could, "It has come to IAB's attention that you are under suspicion for drinking while on duty. If you could come with me, I just need to ask you a few questions".
"This is ridiculous!" Calleigh yelled to keep from crying, "I didn't do anything!"
"Fuck off Stetler," Eric growled, "don't you have anything better to do?"
"I'm just doing my job, Delko," Rick sighed. He wasn't about to regret taking himself away from this crap.
"You know what, Stetler?" Natalia started, "other people can do their jobs without being such a prick".
"This will only take a minute or so, Ms. Duquesne," Rick said, choosing to ignore that last comment.
"No!" She shouted, "I'm not going through your stupid interrogation because a suspect thought he saw me drinking!"
"Your suspect, my witness".
"I can't believe this!"
Rick was about to snap back at her, but his voice caught in his throat as he saw Horatio approach them. Everything he wanted to say to him flooded Rick's head, everything that could just make things right between them. But the more he thought on it, the more he was sure that no matter how much he needed Horatio, he could never be there for him. Not anymore at least. He bit down on his tongue to distract himself from the tears that were welling up behind his eyes.
"Natalia, Eric, get back to work," Horatio said sternly in a low, soft voice.
The two CSIs obeyed his order and walked off, leaving Rick and Calleigh alone with Horatio.
"What's going on here, Rick?" He asked, a quiet anger could be seen in his baby blues.
"IAB has received a testimony that Ms. Duquesne has been drinking while on duty. For now, I just need her to take a simple breathalyzer test".
Horatio's eyes flashed at Rick. Rick could almost hear the profanities that Horatio wanted to spur at him. The redhead's nose crinkled slightly before he breathed deeply and responded.
"Ms. Duquesne has been in the lab all day, Rick".
"This will only take a second," Rick answered, holding up the breathalyzer.
Their eyes locked. Horatio could see something different in the sergeant's eyes, a certain sadness clouded them. It looked as if a weight had been placed on him that he didn't have the strength to lift. As much as Rick tried to hide it, his mind's torment was showing in his features. There was definitely something wrong.
"Calleigh," Horatio said softly, "humor him".
He stood there and watched as Calleigh slowly and reluctantly exhaled into the breathalyzer. It came up 0, just as everyone expected it should.
"Thank you for your cooperation," Rick sighed, "that will be all, Ms. Duquesne".
The two men watched as Calleigh stalked away, muttering profanities under her breath. Rick looked back over to Horatio, still looking so perfect. There were so many things he wanted to say to the lieutenant, a short speech slowly formed in his head.
Horatio, I need to speak with you a moment… look, you might find this strange, but hear me out. No, this doesn't have anything to do with IAB. This… this is about something that truly matters. I just need to tell you that I am unfathomably sorry for being such a jackass to you ever since you got promoted ahead of me. And although you deserve people who are far more considerate and thoughtful than I, I just want to tell you that I have always valued the friendship that we once had. The reason why I bring this up is because I have been pondering the exact meanings of existence, specifically my own. Everything feels empty to me lately, words… music… everything. I'm beginning to wonder if life really has meaning and I… I… What I'm trying to say, Horatio, is that I love you. There. I said it. I've been wanting to say it for the past 30 years and… well… there you go. I only have the strength now because I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. I hate to sound melodramatic, but the truth is that I don't… I don't want to go on living for much longer. You're absolutely everything to me, Horatio. And I don't care if you can't return these feelings, I don't expect you to. Just… just give me a reason for living, if you can find one. Because although I feel that the world has turned against me, I want you to know that if you so wish it, I would still hang on. You're my only hope, Horatio. But if you don't want me around then stay silent, I don't want us to continue how we are now. Believe me when I say that, through all this, all I really want is for you to be happy.
Rick breathed deeply, about to expose his soul to the man who has meant everything to him for most of his life.
"Horatio-"
That was as far as he got, he couldn't breathe. His hands were shaking violently. Even the one word that he got out was barely a whisper. Fighting back tears as he felt his heart break again, Rick came to the conclusion that he and Horatio were never meant to be. He could never be happy.
"Yes Rick?" the redhead asked, cocking his head.
Rick turned his face away before their eyes could meet again, afraid that he would break down right there in the middle of the lab. His last thought echoed in his head: "I can never be happy. I can never be happy. I can never be happy". He breathed deeply and tried again, this time his mouth too dry to produce anything more than a breath.
"n-nothing," Rick answered sadly once he pulled himself together.
Trembling slightly, Rick turned and walked to the back stairwell, leaving Horatio standing there in the middle of the labs. He pulled open the door and let it silently swing shut behind him. Standing in the stairwell, Rick closed his eyes and listened. He tried to hear footsteps, breathing, anything; but he was alone. It was okay. Right now, he wanted to be alone. He wanted to go home. He knew he wouldn't have an appetite for a last meal; he just wanted to disappear forever.
"I can never be happy," he whispered, feeling a tear slide down the side of his face.
You don't deserve to be happy.
Rick sat down on a step and let another tear fall. In his head he heard a voice, a cruel and unforgiving voice that had given him a running commentary for most of his life. He wasn't schizophrenic or anything like that; it was something without a name that spoke to him. For the longest time, Rick had no idea what it was. It wasn't until very recently that he decided what the voice was: truth.
"I know," he answered softly.
But Horatio does, so do him a favor and get the fuck out of his life.
"I love him," he softly retorted, "I could make him happy if he would let me".
No, Rick. No you can't. You're a worthless piece of shit and nobody loves you. And nobody loves you because you're a worthless piece of shit. You can't change, Rick; no matter how hard you try to fight it, you will just always be a worthless piece of shit! Could you love someone like you?
"n-n-no," Rick answered softly, his hands shaking.
That's what I thought. And you know what, spoiler alert, there is no heaven and there is no hell. You will simply cease existing. But you're fine with that aren't you? Well… if you aren't, you should be. This universe would be better off without you.
Rick cringed as the heaviness in his heart began to pull him into the abyss. He wanted to fight this voice. He wanted it to be a tangible human being. He wanted to kill it with his bare hands. But he couldn't. After all, this was "truth".
You know that blank piece of paper sitting in your office? If I were you, I would make that an apology letter to the universe for your existence.
"Shutup!" Rick snapped suddenly.
You are so pathetic. Horatio's been through worse crap than you have and he's turned out fine. In fact, most people have gone through worse crap than you have. So why are you such a failure? Most people would find themselves to be blessed with all the luxuries you have. You're a spoiled waste of life, you know that, right?
"Don't give me that bullshit! Without love we are nothing!"
Don't you get tired of being wrong?
"Shutup!" Rick cried, clutching his hair in his fists and tugging as his face flushed with anger and frustration, "Leave me alone! Get out of my head! Leave me alone!"
Tears slid down his face as he rocked back and forth on the step. He chanted those words, digging his nails into his scalp until he felt warm, thick fluid seep out of the crescent moon gashes. As long as he kept talking, the voice was silent. As long as the rest of his mind was processing, the voice was silent. Chanting, thinking, and distracting himself with the sharp pain he was inflicting on his person, Rick cried softly, finally alone.
***
Horatio looked over the evidence examination table, but couldn't focus on his work. There was something about Rick that kept pecking at his brain and distracting him. He couldn't place a finger on it, but it was something important.
"I… I have to do something," he said to Eric as he hung up his lab coat.
"What is it?"
"I'm still not sure myself. But I think the time for asking questions has passed".
Horatio decided to take the back stairs up to IAB; he didn't want anyone in his lab seeing him go up there, he knew how judgmental they could be. He opened the metal door to the stairwell and everything suddenly felt numb.
Rick was sitting on a step, breathing heavily with his face in his hands. He had taken off his jacket and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Rick's light brown eyes flashed in and out of Horatio's line of sight for a fleeting moment before Rick turned his face away.
"Horatio," he quietly acknowledged.
"Rick," the lieutenant said softly, entering the stairwell and closing the door behind him, "are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he lied, although not convincingly.
Horatio quietly walked over and sat down next to the other man, looking him over sadly. A glint of something dark and shiny in Rick's dark brown hair caught Horatio's attention. He instinctively reached out and dipped a fingertip in it. The contrast against his pale skin gave Horatio pause. He stared down at Rick's blood, the dark red fluid that was now on his fingertip.
"You're bleeding, Rick," he said gently.
"I know".
"Let me look at it," Horatio coaxed, leaning in to get a better look at Rick's bleeding scalp.
"No!" Rick cried out, taking his hands away and finally facing Horatio.
Rick's eyes were swollen and bloodshot. His face was moist with tears and was quite visibly flushed. He struggled to look calm, but there was still hurt in his expression.
"Horatio," Rick sighed, holding up his hand in request to stop, "Really, I'm fi-"
"-Rick!" Horatio gasped in shock, eyes widening as he grabbed onto the other man's wrist and pulled him in.
Rick's forearm was covered in slash marks and scars. Some were old, but most were quite recent. For as long as Horatio knew him, he would have never guessed that he was a cutter. Ashamed, Rick turned his face away, not wanting to know how little Horatio must think of him now.
"Tell me what's going on," Horatio ordered, making the other man cringe slightly in protest. "Rick! Tell me what's going on!"
Horatio raised his voice, but he didn't mean to, it was just so hard for him to hold back the pain that he was feeling. Tears appeared and shone like diamonds in the corners of his bright blue eyes. He couldn't wish this type of psychological torment on Rick; sure he could be a little stubborn and egomaniacal at times, but he was still a good person.
"I don't know what's going on!" Rick cried out, his voice breaking as tears slid down his face. He was sitting on the verge of another breakdown. "Something's wrong with me, but I don't know what it is! I'm going crazy! I'm running out of time! I'm frightened! Oh God, I've never been so frightened in my entire life! Help me! Help! Please, Horatio, help m-"
Rick's words were muffled as Horatio pulled him into an embrace, cradling his head into his shoulder. Horatio gently rocked the other man, stroking his dark brown hair as his body was overwhelmed with sobs. Discreetly wiping away his own tears, Horatio gently cuddled Rick. He wasn't sure exactly what Rick needed, but he knew that he needed to feel cared about.
"It's okay, Rick. It's okay," Horatio whispered, "I'm here for you".
"Don't let me die, Horatio," Rick sobbed into the redhead's shoulder once he started to get his breath back, "Please don't let me die. I love you".
Horatio remained cradling Rick, but he felt his own breath be taken from him with Rick's words. He suddenly felt everything all at once: confusion, peace, joy. But most of all, he felt guilt. He couldn't help but to think that he was partially responsible for the cuts Rick gave himself. Maybe if he was a little more forgiving, Rick could be spared some of the torment he was going through.
"I won't let you die, Rick," Horatio cooed softly, "I don't want to lose you".
Tears of relief spilled from Rick's eyes onto Horatio's shoulder, staining his shirt. Rick breathed deeply, trying to control himself once again, although his hands still shook. They remained in each other's embrace until Rick was finally strong enough to pull away.
Rick picked up his discarded jacket and wiped his damp face on it. The redhead handed him a tissue and sat with him as he cleaned himself up.
After long moments, the two of them were finally able to sit on the step in peace. Their eyes and faces were dry. Their breaths were back under control. They relaxed against the wall and railing, each deep in thought.
"Horatio," Rick said softly, breaking the silence, "I'm sorry for harassing your lab all these years".
"It's okay, Rick," Horatio sighed, "and you and I know that that isn't what's really important right now".
The brunette nodded in agreement and relaxed back into the wall again. It was then that he realized that the voice was silent. Perhaps it was gone. Perhaps he was free. Rick smiled to himself at the mere notion.
"How about this," Horatio suggested, "we call the rest of today off, we go over to your place and have a nice, long talk".
Rick looked up and smiled at his redheaded love, "Agreed. I think we're overdue for one".
Horatio stood and gently guided Rick to his feet. With soft smiles of mutual understanding, they left the stairwell.