Title: 'Hurt'
Summary: Horatio must come to terms with loss, life and make a change before he falls too deep.
Characters: Horatio & team
Rating: G-PG
Disclaimer: I don't own so you can't sue. Na na na na boogers.
A/N: Set after 'To Kill a Predator" so there will probably be some spoilers for it and earlier episodes. The lyrics in this fic are 'Hurt' by Johnny Cash.
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
Horatio repeated these words in his head as they played out through his Hummer's speaker system; He must have left the radio on before he'd entered 16 year old Mallary Harding's home. He now peered down at his scathed hands. They seemed to belong to someone else, someone angry and vengeful; Surely not Horatio Caine.
He removed his badge and gun, laying them on the counter. He then proceeded to remove the watch from his wrist, only thinking of his anger and disgust for the predator before him.
"You…are resisting arrest," he stated as Lou Durning backed through his previous steps in avoidance of Caine's wrath.
Blinking, Caine stretched his tired fingers outward. He felt the sensation of pain--a throbbing pain. And though it was scientifically a communication of tissue damage to the central nervous system, stimulating nociceptors carried along the brain via the spinal cord activating the anterior cingulated cortex to initiate an emotional response, it was all just biology. In reality, the pain made Horatio feel alive, like he wasn't simply existing among the fibers of society. It was oddly satisfying. Lately, his world had been spinning around him aimlessly in fast-forward and he felt as if he were standing on a precipice, solitary and broken.
What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
The music continued unsettlingly throughout his mind. It seemed to know exactly what he was thinking or trying not to think.
"Speed," Caine whispered softly as his friend's eyes grew still along with a once panicked chest, now unmoving.
He pressed an ear against his CSI's chest, needing to hear a heartbeat. Instead, he felt the blood rush from the wound and stain the tiles beneath the quickly cooling body…
Horatio shook his head, dismissing the memories from his consciousness. However, the urgent words dripping from the stereo repeated themselves over and over again, warping around him like a mask.
A sharp crackle. Screams. Caine turned his head to see Marisol descend to a paved fate. Seconds were disguised as laggard minutes. Her sullen eyes locked with his, scared and questioning. A view he dreaded once more…
Caine closed his eyes gently and took a deep breath as constant questions flooded his mind. Why couldn't he save them? What had they done? When will there every truly be justice? Why was he always left to pick up the pieces?
A crude stab and a jerk upwards was all that was needed to drop Riaz to his knees. The open-armed Christ statue seemed all the more evident now and Caine looked up at it, never giving explanation. The satisfaction inside was his own…
Anger swept its way across his entire being. That ounce of satisfaction he'd felt wasn't enough. The state in which his hands remained were evidence of it. He had grown tired of disappointment and frustration, and he feared he could no longer heal as he tore desperate wounds into himself, unforgiving. Uncaring.
The downed gang member scratched in dire rapidity for his weapon. It was nothing impressive compared to the barrel that stared back at him, reaching closer.
"Mala Noche justice….meet Miami justice."
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
Horatio raised his eyes to the rear-view mirror and hardly recognized the reflection. All of his hurt and anguish produced a side of him that he always promised he'd never become. It was simply stranger than fiction. Perhaps it was inevitable, he thought to himself.
The penetrating sound of sirens encompassed the horizon, urgently forwarding to Caine's position. This was his cue to exit and he placed the Hummer in gear, heading for the lab.
As he placed his keys on the large oval desk in his office, a small framed woman appeared in the corner of his eye. She had been followed by three others. His team.
"We heard you caught the real perp," Calleigh exclaimed happily with a smile.
Horatio observed Delko, Ryan and Natalia for a moment and then turned his attention back to Calleigh.
Her smile faded and Eric's brow lifted.
"You okay?" Eric asked, worriedly.
Horatio lowered his eyes. It had been a long while since anyone had asked him that and in all truths, he was not okay. How could he ever expect them to understand?
"Um…I'm fine," he lied.
The team seemed just as convinced as he was.
Natalia noticed the bruising and blood on Horatio's hands. The rest of the team followed suit and recognized that indeed something else had happened at that house and with that, there were only a number of reasons why his hands were in that condition.
Horatio shifted positions and swallowed hard.
"I need to talk to you guys later about something, okay?" he stated.
His team nodded, noting the despondence in his voice.
"We'll be here," Calleigh answered.
"Just let us know, H," Ryan interjected. "We got your back."
As the team went their separate ways, Horatio stepped to the edge of his office which overlooked the entire lab. Everything around him seemed to become brighter and the speeds at which his world revolved, slowed back to a bearable state. Hearing his team reinforce the reality that they have his back made him feel something other than hurt, anger and frustration. He wasn't alone and through all the events over the past few years that had stained his nature, he had forgotten. The solitary, cold precipice from which he stood for what seemed to be forever, turned into a warm solace. At least for now.
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
"I will keep myself," Horatio said to himself. "I will find a way."
End.
