Disclaimer: Yep, they're all mine, mine I tell you!!! (insert evil, maniacal laughter here) Oh wait, no, they're not. None of them are mine in fact. I own very little really, only my computer and a rather wayward dog.
A/N: Firstly, apologies for the highly unoriginal title, it was all I could think of after a long, hideous Monday. Horatio's so good at angst that I thought I'd give him a short piece all to himself. Rebecca came into his life very quickly and then disappeared equally quickly, with no one really explaining why her cutting a deal with JoJo was enough for Horatio to dismiss her, despite the fact that 2 episodes earlier he had trusted her with the truth about his nightmares about Speedle. (And I didn't want to make this a H/Y fic) This doesn't really attempt to explain everything, just to begin to bridge the gap between what we see and what the characters must think and feel. All reviews and thoughts would be very welcome.
"Is this about what I said to Yelina?"
If anything, that comment only saddened Horatio further. Rebecca really didn't understand. She genuinely couldn't see that when she made a deal with a cop killer, she did more than set a guilty man free, and that was without counting JoJo's murder, which had been caused directly by this decision. A realist, Horatio knew that deals had to be made, that some people got away with their crimes because of what they knew about others. It was Rebecca's ease with the situation that threw him. Sure, he had made deals before, but never easily, never lightly and never without regret that some crimes went unpunished. To Horatio, it seemed as though she had no respect for Officer Insko's family. And besides, you didn't deal with cop killers – it was a cardinal rule of law enforcement.
Callousness was not a characteristic that Horatio had previously associated with Rebecca, but she had been callous today; callous, cold and unfeeling, with no shadow of empathy or regret in her eyes. That wasn't the Rebecca who had held him when he woke up in a cold sweat from a nightmare. That wasn't the Rebecca who had gently coaxed him into talking about the day Tim Speedle died, and the nightmares that still haunted him. This was a Rebecca he hadn't seen before – someone whose ambition had overtaken every other emotion until there was nothing else left. He wondered when he had stopped being a companion and become a possession – and that brought him right back to where he had started.
"Is this about what I said to Yelina?"
Well, in a way, yes. Not because she had said it to Yelina, but because she had said it at all. She had treated him as though he was a thing, a possession, whose only inherent value was in the owning of it. Something that could be set aside when it stopped being of use. Something that could be passed around, given to the next person, without a protest. Something without a mind or a will of its own. He had seen the surprise flare in her eyes when he refused her invitation. Seen it, and been disgusted by it because there was no hurt there, no pain, only surprise and a little disappointment. He was disgusted with himself too, because he was the one who had failed to see through her. He was the fool who had believed – because he so wanted to believe – that there was someone who would want to be with him, despite the nightmares and his many faults, someone who would want to be with him, Horatio, not Lieutenant Caine, who was in charge of the Crime Lab. Bitterly, he wondered why his instincts, ever reliable at work, always let him down in his personal life. His first wife, Rebecca, even Ray – all disasters, all people he had trusted. Maybe some people were meant to be alone.
The chirping of his cell phone distracted him from his increasingly dark thoughts. "Horatio."
"H? A body's been found at…." It was Eric, calling him to yet another scene. With a weary sigh, Horatio pulled himself together and focused on the job. Slipping on his sunglasses one handed, the other still holding his cell, he gave himself a mental shake. The family of this victim deserved his full attention. It struck him suddenly that the job was the only real constant in his life. Strange to think that criminals were the only ones whose behaviour he could really rely on.
"Eric, I'm on my way."