A/N: Wow, it's been a really long time since i posted an actual story. Sorry about that. Warning, this is not the sequal to Broken, i repeat this is not a sequal. This is something completely different. The follow up to Broken is coming, its just taken longer than i anticipated.
Do Not Stand At My Grave
Freedom, well, that's just some people talking. Your prison is walking through this world all alone. - The Eagles, Desperado
Horatio Caine was not a man who believed in superstitions. He wasn't the kind to swear that he had a black cloud over his head. But when he found himself becoming accustomed to the pain and grieving that came with losing the ones he loved, he started to think that, maybe he was cursed.
Long ago when he was no more than ten, he used to overhear his father talking about the Caine Curse. At the time, he was frightened by it. But as time went on and he got older, the stories became just that; stories, tall tales with no hard evidence to back the theory. Thinking about it now he could see it all too clearly; those who believed it, fell victim to it.
The first time he realized that the curse really existed was when Raymond died. After that, Horatio fought. He fought to keep the thoughts at bay. But the more he resisted, the bigger the price he paid.
Al Humphries was the first, but it didn't hit him until Tim. That one hurt the worse. The men's only mistake was being close to Horatio. That's why women were not allowed to get too close. Those that did suffered more than heartache. But two managed to slip through the cracks.
Calleigh and Marisol somehow were able to sneak past his barriers when he wasn't looking. (Later, he would admit that Calleigh had always there, he just never wanted to admit it.)
Horatio couldn't really explain why he was drawn to Marisol. Lord knows he shouldn't have been. Not only was she one of his employees' sister, she was also nearly 20 years his junior. But she was a sultry dark haired Cuban beauty and he was a total sucker for that type.
The warning signs were clearly there. She came with her own pain fully loaded before she even met him. But Horatio Caine was also a sucker for damsels in distress and Marisol was their poster girl. He wanted to save her, he needed to save her. But try as he might, the curse proved stronger, leaving him standing at a gravesite.
Only this time, he was too defeated to pick himself up and put his life back together yet again.
Eric stood with family up front next to the grave. By all rights, he should have been up there as well. He was her husband, short marriage or not. Instead, he stayed at the back and watched in painful silence. Father Long gave a lovely sermon and spoke of her beautifully. He didn't hear a word.
He had disappeared from that world the moment she arrived. She had no reason to be there. She hadn't known Marisol personally and he knew that she wasn't there for Eric. That relationship had long since been dying and recent events had only served to sever any connections completely. No, there was only one reason why the blonde stood by his side at a stranger's grave.
She was there for him.