I have no idea where this one came from, but I like how it turned out. It could be better, but eh. As usual, I (a) own nothing publicly recognized, (b) love smiley faces, and (c) am in love with people that review. I hope you like it!!! ~Callum!~
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There was a strict line between Lieutenant Caine and Horatio Caine. That line allowed Horatio to do his job without falling to pieces every time there was a rough case.
Lieutenant Caine was strong and confident. He could stare down the barrel of a loaded shot gun, wielded by an absolute maniac, and not bat an eyelash. Lieutenant Caine was indestructible. He could intimidate a suspect like no one else could and get someone to spill their guts in seconds. Horatio would have loved to stay Lieutenant Caine at all times, but there was a problem with that plan.
Lieutenant Caine was a mask to keep him sane. Lieutenant Caine couldn't stay around all the time.
Horatio Caine, on the other hand, was always there. He could be the only thing there, he could be inches below the surface, or he could be miles away and buried deep under tons of rubble. Horatio Caine was always there.
The real Horatio had many scars of the physical and emotional sort. He'd had a rough childhood that left his mental state just on the brink of collapsing- that is, until Lieutenant Caine came around. Horatio used to wake up every night, almost always at three-twenty in the morning, with silent screams caught in his throat and tears in his eyes. That Horatio Caine wasn't strong or confident. He could be destroyed at a moment's notice. He was constantly on the edge and stressed out over the simplest of things, and he wasn't sure if anyone would ever be able to understand him. It was for that reason that there was only one person who got to see behind the Lieutenant Caine mask that was put on every morning. That one person could save him. That one person could take away the nightmares and be his support structure when everything else would crumble to dust.
But when that person wasn't there, for even the smallest of moments, the whole world would come crashing down around him. It was scary at first, the feeling of being abandoned, however it was soon learned that that one person wouldn't leave him.
"You're stuck with me forever, Horatio. Get used to the idea," that one person had said, earning a laugh.
That one person hadn't left. Horatio believed him. When he had seen the scars littering Horatio's back and chest, he didn't get scared. He didn't give pity that he knew Horatio wouldn't want. When he had found him that one day, so long ago, with the scars on his arm exposed, he didn't run away. He didn't freak out, but merely comforted Horatio while he cried. In truth, Horatio owed his life to that one person. He was his savior.
"What are you doing out here, love? Its two o'clock." A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around Horatio's waist as lips brushed across his neck. "You didn't have another nightmare, did you?"
"I hadn't even gone to sleep yet. I was thinking, and the stars are pretty." The other man found himself grinning as he pressed their lips together.
"They are no match for you." The night sky was swimming with dim lights and a bright moon, all of which were reflected in the salt water before them.
"Funny, I was thinking the same thing," Horatio replied with a smirk, knowing it would press his lover's buttons.
"You did not just call me pretty!"
"Weren't you listening, Timmy? I'm positive that I did." Tim growled lightly and kissed Horatio again, leading the way into their bedroom.
"You're in trouble now," he said quickly taking control.
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Fin.