A Hero's Goodbye
A/N: Readers, kindly be warned. This story is nothing short of tragic and involves the loss of a major character. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, all the while refraining from despising me afterwards.
Horatio Caine stood at the steps in front of the Miami Dade Crime Lab, his dark trademark sunglasses perched in his hands. He breathed in a sigh of relief, not because of the present, but a slot in the past.
The recovery period after the Samantha Owens betrayal seemed to be over, a feeling of redemption replacing that of stress. Order and trust had been restored inside and out of the lab, and it worked to pull Horatio from the proverbial pit that he'd fallen into trying to pick up every little piece, no matter how miniscule.
It was like cleaning up a broken mirror- hard to pick up the smaller bits, all the while the bigger ones cut you as you did so.
For once in a very long time, Horatio found himself at peace. Rebuilding the lab's reputation had given him something to work through; to keep his mind occupied. In turn, the demons of pain and sorrow that clawed at his conscience found themselves starved of attention, and shamelessly crawled back into the shadows.
He heard his name being called repetitively, and he withdrew himself from his thoughts.
"Hey H, how's it going?" Eric Delko greeted as he walked towards the redhead. The Cuban CSI stood across from his brother and picked up a conversation quickly.
"I'm good Eric. How are you doing?"
"Good thanks. Been busy with the case and I-"
His sentence went unfinished as a thunderous crack lanced across the sky. His utter confusion was replaced with a horrendous feeling of shock as he watched his brother slam into the ground.
"H! NO!," he screamed over the panicking uniforms. Eric dropped to his knees next to his fallen superior and completely disregarded the looming danger surrounding them. Horatio lay on the cement, taking broken gasps of air as he bled from an entrance wound to the chest.
"OFFICER DOWN, COME ON, I NEED RESCUE, CALL AN AMBULANCE!"
By then, Eric started going into shock, but fought it for the sake of his brother. He gripped Horatio's hand with a vengeance, begging him to hold on as he cradled his head in his other arm.
"H, hold on, help is on the way, just keep breathing."
Horatio continued to gasp for air, and nodded his head as he attempted to speak. Once he finally let his words go, they were hoarse and laced with resilience.
"Eric...I..I..I can't breath...oh God," he rasped. Delko raged a war on mind as he considered the lot of the situation. Sirens wailed in the distance, but the only thing he could hear, was the redhead's own voice.
"Eric...I can't...I can't..." He spoke as his grip on Delko's hand grew firmer. Eric felt a pain growing in the back of his throat, and as the tears streaked down his face, he choked his words out in small sobs.
"H, no. Please, just hold on...we can't lose you...oh God, please." The Cuban CSI stared with pleading eyes into those azure irises, and as the fallen Lieutenant's grip grew weak, and his breathing labored, numbness replaced his panic.
"Eric...I'm...ss-sorry...tell...tell the others...tell them...I'm sorry."
He laid attempting to breathe, and as his grasp on his brother's hand loosened, he took his last breath before the sharp blue of his eyes disappeared.
"H...H! No, oh God no, HORATIO NO!" As the redhead's pulse faltered, so did Delko's last drop of composure. He sobbed violently as he held his best friend's limp form in his arms. Feet away, uniforms and the ambulance crew watched over the scene in utter shock.
Among them, was that of Sargent Frank Tripp.
He'd known Horatio since his days as a uniform, boasting a thick mustache and a silver badge around MDPD. Though they had their disagreements so many years ago, there had always been something about the redheaded that impressed him. And now,
that man had just been murdered before his very eyes.
The Texan bit down on his bottom lip, trying to hold himself together to no avail as stray tears fell from his eyes. With a shaky voice, he hit speed dial on his phone and connected to dispatch.
"Yeah, this is uh, Frank Tripp. I need Tom Loman outside MDPD. We have a um, officer down."
For nearly twenty-five minutes, Eric held onto his brother whose warmth had long since faded and cried hysterically. Everyone knew to give him space, but it was about time that the M.E took care of the fallen Lieutenant.
"Eric, we need to let Loman do his job...he'll take good care of him, you know that. Come on now," Frank's words eventually clicked in his mind, and he carefully rested Horatio back onto the pavement. As they were easing away, Natalia, Ryan, Calleigh, and Walter burst out the main entrance and halted, stunned by what they saw.
Eric was still in hysterics, and it seemed that the others were on the verge of joining him as Tripp and Delko witnessed their reactions.
Walter and Ryan stood mouths agape, while Calleigh and Natalia gasped in shock. Ryan swiped a hand over his face as if he was dreaming, and Walters own hand flew to his mouth and stayed there.
They all approached Eric and Frank and as expected, completely broke down. Calleigh held onto Eric as Natalia collapsed into Walters arms. Ryan felt a hand give his shoulder a rough squeeze and turned to see the grave expression marring Frank's face.
Tom Loman wasn't faring well either. His ability to detach himself from the tragedy of death had been perfected in his years as an M.E, but today, he found his barriers being breached as he performed his initial examination on Horatio.
After awhile, the incessant crying ceased, but only just. Tom had completed his on-scene work, and it was time for him to transport Horatio to the morgue inside MDPD. His body would not travel by van, but by gurney considering the close proximity to the building. Before Dr. Loman pulled up the zipper, Eric came forward and removed Horatio's gleaming badge from his belt, and gestured for Tom to carry on.
With his action completed, Eric set the golden item on top of the thick plastic out of respect. The rest of the team gathered around, and positioned themselves on each side of the stretcher before transport.
The silent M.E obliged to their clear request as they walked in synch with the movement of the gurney. Nearby officers and detectives were utterly silent as the group headed around back to the morgue.
The cold environment bit at their bodies as the stretcher came to rest in its rightful place. They couldn't bring themselves to leave Horatio. Not now. Not after all they'd been through.
Time began to slip away, and Loman did his best to kindly reassure the group of forlorn investigators.
"I promise to take good care of Lieutenant Caine. For now, I think it's best to take some time to gather yourselves. I'm so sorry." His soft-spoken words were met with sad nods, and everybody field out of the room slowly.
The elevator dinged, signalling their arrival at the lab's floor. The doors opened to reveal pure silence emanating from the many stiffened lab techs standing around. Their faces reflected that of sorrow and devastation, readily matching the team's own expressions. The break room seemed to be the favored place of solace, and everyone congregated at the small table where by this time, they would be sitting down for lunch.
Their hearts physically hurt, and they periodically cried until the wetness of tears was no longer felt. They grieved so badly, that the exhaustion of all their tears did not stop them from heaving and all together falling apart.
They had lost their leader of ten plus years to something that fueled their line of work and while they were now Hell-bent on achieving vengeance, the idea of processing the spot where Horatio had been killed turned their stomachs. After what felt like hours, a uniform knocked lightly on the glass door and came in.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I just wanted to let you all know that the scene is being held and the chief is leaving the decision to process up to you. He said to let him know as soon as you are ready, but he's in no rush. If anything else comes up, I'll be sure to notify you guys. I'm really sorry about Lieutenant Caine."
Frank expressed his gratitude, and the young officer left them to their sorrows.
"He...he said he was sorry..." Eric choked. Frank looked up from the table and sighed heavily.
"We all are."
Days had faded as funeral arrangements were made, and evidence was processed. Calleigh sat clouded in grief within the firearms lab as she ran the striations of the bullet that had killed Horatio. Or what was left of it after being dug out of the cement. In the last two days, everyone stayed depressed, hardly leaving the lab for more than a short amount of time. Nobody could blame them either.
She jumped as the sharp ring of her cell phone broke the room's silence. As she listened to her fellow investigator talk on the other line, she realized that it was the call that she'd been dreading. It was time to make their way to the morgue and say goodbye.
Cal let the comparison run as she slipped out of her lab coat and exited firearms. Little did she know, that her comparison would falter.
Tom Loman had completed his post on Horatio, and he now lay on the icy sheet metal table dressed for the service. He was clothed in his own expensive Italian tailoring and his fiery auburn hair was combed neatly.
Eric crept into autopsy and hesitated before sitting in the chair that was placed just inches from the table. Hours before, the Lieutenant's belongings had been released, Delko being the recipient. He was now the caretaker of what the redhead had on his person at the time of the shooting and that included his badge, ID, and holstered firearm.
The Cuban CSI shuddered a breath and swallowed hard, attempting to prepare himself to do the hardest thing he would ever do in his life.
"H...I don't know what to say. It's been two days and I'm so damn upset that I can't eat or sleep...God, I really don't know what to do without you." He choked back the oncoming sobs and steeled himself to continue.
"Everything's empty without you. The lab and the team aren't the same, and I don't think we ever will be. I know...I know how hard it's been since Mari died...and I know that it must feel good to see her again...but I don't think I'll ever get over losing you two."
Despondently, Eric took a good long look at his brother's peaceful face, and with tears blurring his vision, he reached out, and gave the Lieutenant one last commending squeeze on the shoulder.
"I'll never forget you, H. I'll never forget you. I love you brother."
By the end of his goodbye, Delko was sniffling and convulsing, and had to force himself from the room in spite of his mind's protest. Calleigh stood outside the double doors, Natalia, Ryan, Walter and Frank joining her. As Eric came out, he had to rely on the embrace of the blonde ballistics expert to calm him down. He stood in her hold for several moments, and reluctantly let her go to speak her own farewell.
Calleigh walked into the quiet room, and found her prior emotional preparation fading as she caught her first glance at her best friend, mentor and superior laid out on the autopsy table. For her and the team alike, they had yet to absorb the idea that Horatio was actually gone. It was one major case of depressing denial.
"You know, there's this story I love telling. It's about how my life changed forever," She began with a sad smile.
"Almost seventeen years ago, I met this tall, redheaded detective in the MDPD bullpen. I was nervous, but as soon as I heard that we'd be working together, I knew that I would be alright. I couldn't have asked for a more strong, smart and kind leader. I miss you so much, Horatio."
Her makeup ran with the path of tears streaking down her face, and no matter how hard she tried to compose herself, she couldn't.
"I know that I'm going to have to take your place soon...but I'll never be as good as you were." She took a deep breath, and grasped his hand in hers.
"Rest peacefully, Handsome."
Sadly, she stood and looked down at Horatio. Hand still holding his, she leaned down, and sweetly kissed his forehead. It seemed like eternity before she finally let go of his hand. Though she'd released her physical grasp on him, Calleigh would never let go of her best friend and mentor.
Ryan Wolfe sat down after Calleigh had come back through the double doors and found the pain in his throat intensifying with every time he tried to speak. He sat with his hands folded in his lap, head held low in a dejected manner.
"There's this feeling...where I wish I could have went back to that day...and if I could, I would've taken that shot, not you." He raised his head with tears glazing his eyes and ran a hand down his face.
"There were so many times where you helped me...you forgave me for my mistakes. You helped me realize that our job is riskier than anything I could bet on. I know that I have before, but I promise that I'll never let you down again."
"You were like a father to me, H; and I'll never forget that."
Wolfe's voice faltered and so did the barrier holding back his tears. As a final sign of gratitude, he gave the Lieutenant a firm squeeze on the forearm. Swallowing hard, he slowly eased out of the room and joined the others.
Natalia sat for a long time, simply trying to find her words. There was so much she wanted to say about her boss and friend, but regardless, she did her best to convey every bit of her honor to him.
"I don't know what to say. Everything feels like a nightmare...I don't wanna believe that you're gone. When North put me in that car, I was afraid. I was afraid of dying, but...I was afraid that you would too. Now that you're really...gone, I don't know what to do."
"You never really let me thank you for saving my life. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be here. So thank you. Thank you for saving me...thank you for everything," she spoke meaningfully, all while pure sadness lanced at her heart.
Natalia stood from her chair and gently kissed him on the cheek.
"Rest in peace, Horatio. We're going to miss you."
Frank Tripp was not a man of emotion. He was exactly the opposite with his steely build, both physically and mentally. But under the thick layer of resilience, lay a man with a kind and caring heart. And as he walked forth to say goodbye, he felt it breaking into pieces.
"God, Horatio. I always thought that I would end up here before you." Tripp huffed a lengthy sigh.
"I don't know what the Hell I'm going to do without you. I really don't."
"I'm gonna miss you, old boy." Frank's words caught in his throat as he dipped his head toward the ground and he clenched his fists in pain until they went white-knuckled. He felt his farewell to be brief, but he couldn't help it. On the outside, he had become reserved and quiet, but on the inside, he was truly spiraling. He knew that his planned trip to the bar later in the evening would be painful, seeing as the redhead would not join him to talk as a cup of coffee steamed in his hands and an icy glass of Whiskey stung at his own.
A flash of anger presented itself as he hastily got to his feet and exited autopsy. Even the toughened Texan was falling apart before their very eyes.
Walter found himself at a loss as he stared down at his boss's peaceful form. He'd always towered over everyone on the team, including Horatio. But now, he found himself particularly low.
"H...it feels just like yesterday that we met. I haven't known you as long as everyone else, but I'm glad that I got to work with you for as long as I did. I guess that's what makes saying goodbye to you so hard...I knew you, but not long enough."
"I can't believe that this is goodbye," Walter sighed. He sat for several moments and found it difficult to get up from his spot.
"Rest in peace, H. Rest in peace."
Shine your light, down on me
Lift me up, so I can see.
Shine your light, when you're gone
Give me the strength, to carry on, carry on.
The funeral procession inched it's way towards Holy Redeemer Cemetery, a veritable cavalry of police vehicles driving in one massive expanse. The team watched from the Hummers as they winded down one of the last streets of downtown before reaching the cemetery. To their surprise, the street was dotted with people holding signs. They said everything from, Thank you for watching over Miami, to Rest in peace Lieutenant Caine.
The convoy came to a halt, and officers poured from the vehicles. The CSIs of the New York and Las Vegas crime labs were in attendance, along with a solid handful of NYPD officers and detectives from Horatio's days as a detective in his home of Queens.
In the front row, Eric, Ryan, Calleigh, Natalia, Alexx, Walter, Frank, Yelina and Ray Jr. stood as the flag-draped black matte casket was carried into place, right next to the grave of Marisol Delko Caine. As preamble to the fallen Lieutenant's casket being carried in, the police bagpipers began to play Amazing Grace.
Arms held strong in the air as all law enforcement officers saluted the redheaded Lieutenant. Yelina and Ray Jr. joined the team as they all shed tears at the cry of the bagpipes. The song seemed to last an eternity before the area went completely silent.
I thought I saw him walking
By the side of the road
Maybe tryin' to find his way home.
The six officers standing on each side of Horatio's casket began to fold the crisp American flag and as Chief Mark O'Reilly received it, Yelina, Ray Jr. and Eric stepped forward as Horatio's surviving immediate family members. Ray Jr. shuddered a breath as his hands came in contact with the tightly folded material and as he held the item close, he dropped his head and sobbed hysterically. Eric led him and Yelina away gently, and the Chief addressed the group honorably.
"We are here as of today to bid farewell to one of the greatest officers ever to grace this Earth. Lieutenant Horatio Caine was that of a strong, faithful, brave, and intelligent man. He led a first-class team and dedicated over thirty-five years of his life to protecting New York and Miami as a sworn officer, a bomb squad technician, and a crime scene investigator."
"From the moment that I met Horatio, I could tell that he was a compassionate and courageous man. Before I had met him, I lacked every quality that Lieutenant Caine had. And as of today, I am a better person for knowing him. And I believe that the same goes for all of us here today."
"So it is a heavy heart, that I ask us all to bow our heads in a moment of silence for our friend and leader, Lieutenant Horatio Caine."
The forlorn faces of the team and those surrounding them dipped, and even with their eyes shut, the saltiness of their tears could still be tasted. As the minute passed and their heads arose, the Chief returned to the formation of officers at the Lieutenant's final resting place.
He's here but not here
He's gone but not gone.
Just hope he knows,
If I get lost,
Shine your light, down on me
Lift me up, so I can see.
Shine your light, when you're gone
Give me the strength, to carry on, to carry on.
The first shots of the twenty-one gun salute rang out across the wide expanse of the cemetery, forever etching themselves in the team's memory. Their hearts shattered further with each shot, and elsewhere, a single evidence box was placed on a storage shelf, the jet-black permanent marker reading,
Unsolved