Breakable
By Skylar

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Every saint has a past
and every sinner has a future.
--Oscar Wilde

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Violet hugged her teddy bear tight until her eyelids flickered shut and she drifted off to sleep, and Horatio watched her until he made sure she wouldn't wake up, asking to sleep with them again. He left the night light on and returned to the bedroom, where Natalia lay under the covers, looking exhausted. He turned the lamps off and climbed into bed, snaking an arm around her waist and she settled comfortably in his embrace.

While on the force he was often described as the savior, the man with a cape, everyone's protector, but the truth was it was Natalia who'd saved him, dragged him from out of the shadows and showed him a world of color and laughter. She lived her life the way she wanted to live it, wasn't often scared of being silly or crazy, always found the positive side of every situation. Her energy and humor had infected him, made him a more content person, made him think of life outside of work. He'd taken care of her many times, always physically, but it was her who'd saved his soul.

She'd randomly shown up in his office one afternoon to ask him to sign some papers. She noticed the pictures of Madison he had on his desk and before he knew it she had him talking about his little niece, about her father and mother and all the struggles he'd gone through to keep them safe. She sat there listening, fascinated, and he sat there feeling awkward, having never been one to open up to anyone and yet feeling grateful that there was someone willing to listen.

So when her stomach growled loudly it was only polite to offer to take her out to dinner, and to his surprise he found himself enjoying her company greatly. Natalia wasn't like any of the other women he'd dated. She was strong, independent, fun. She liked to laugh, and liked to get him laughing, a task that had never been easy for anyone. She was carefree and easygoing. She dragged him to fairs and parks. She showed him life was more than work, way more than paperwork and DNA analysis and fingerprint identification.

She felt what she felt and when she felt it. She laughed when she was happy, cried over sappy movies, liked to hit pillows when she was mad. She was a hurricane. It hadn't always been easy to be with someone so in tune with their emotions, when he was so withdrawn and introverted, but it'd been an amazing ride nonetheless.

She sighed loudly and lay on her back, allowing him the opportunity to slide his hand over her flat stomach. Natalia put her hand over his and looked over her shoulder. "This one's a boy," she said wistfully. "I can feel it."

"Hmm, I recall you saying the same thing about Violet."

"It's different now."

He smiled. Natalia had instincts. Horribly inaccurate instincts, but there was no way he would tell her that. She liked to predict things that very rarely panned out. He merely gave her her victories and ignored her failures. It was amusing for the most part.

He knew she was dying to have a boy, though she would never admit to that. Him, he could go either way, having already learned the joy of having a daughter, he wouldn't mind going through some of the experiences they'd already gone through with Violet. Little girls with their little feet and their girly things, every time he saw his daughter he fell in love with her over and over again. To add another little girl to the family, he'd consider himself the luckiest man in the world.

Mostly he was happy about the new addition to the family. It was still strange, waking up every morning and finding he was responsible for his two girls. Having Madison and Ray Jr. was different, as much as he tried to be in their lives they weren't much a part of his. They went home to their mothers at the end of the day. But Natalia and Violet, they depended on him and as exciting as it was, it was also terrifying. But he figured if he could survive the first year of Violet's life, he could survive anything.

Natalia drifted to sleep quickly and he soon followed, and the next day he woke up restless, feeling weird and stressed and for no reason that he could think of, but he put that out of his mind as he followed the retching noises that came from the bathroom. He found his wife curled around the toilet and Horatio winced watching her. Though the birth was actually the most painful part, he always found morning sickness to be the worst.

He put a hand towel under water and pressed it against her forehead, and she leaned into the wall and sighed.

"It'll go away soon," she reassured him.

He smiled at her, feeling irrationally guilty. "I have nowhere to go."

Natalia smiled at him. "Yeah, you do, you better get Bibi before she somersaults out of her crib Spider-Man style."

Horatio smiled and stood up, and when he walked into his daughter's room he found her jumping on her crib. She extended her arms out to him happily and he picked her up. Her red hair stuck out in all directions.

"Miss Violet, you might be getting too big for this crib," he told her and she laughed, but he couldn't help feeling nostalgic. Sometimes it felt like she'd just been born two minutes ago and now she was ready to graduate into a big girl bed. Well, she was ready. If it were up to him he'd keep her in that crib until she turned 35.

From the hallway he could hear the shower running, and so he went downstairs and settled Violet on her high chair as he prepared a bottle. He filled a small bowl with Cheerios and put it in front of her, and she began to eat from it happily before he gave her a bottle and she stuck it into her mouth.

He broke a couple of eggs and began to beat them, knowing it would probably be futile to prepare a breakfast for two, but he continued just in case. He heard Natalia rush down the stairs just as he began to butter the toast and he knew what that meant.

"I'm so late," she said as she hurriedly grabbed a piece of toast from his hands.

Horatio looked at his empty hands and then watched her, a tad concerned. "Two days in a row you've skipped breakfast."

"I know," she moaned, kissing the top of her daughter's head. Violet squealed and tried to grab her face. "I just can't keep anything down."

He nodded understandingly. Pregnancy wasn't often conducive to healthy choices, but he still worried. Then again, there wasn't much else to do these days.

"Don't give me that look," she said, her hands perched upon her hips, and Horatio smiled sheepishly. "Look, pretty soon the weird cravings will start again and then you'll be paying the paperboy to come over and wrestle a box of donuts out of my hands."

Horatio nodded. "Well, I would, except you killed him for that, remember?"

"Well, then, I hope the new paperboy tastes better," she said humorously, grabbing her purse quickly and coming over to give him five consecutive pecks on his lips. "I love you."

"Love you too." He watched her kiss Violet and then scurry out of the house and he sighed, putting a lone plate of eggs and toast on the table. Violet had already made a mess with her Cheerios and milk, managing somehow to get a few pieces of cereal in her hair. He ate his breakfast while she played, but she soon grew restless and he let her out of her high chair so she could wander around.

He liked fatherhood, he really did. And retirement was relaxing. But often times he found he missed the lab, missed the action and the cases and putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Work had always been an addiction for him, probably the reason why he'd often been so miserable and lonely. But at the same time he missed the rush and the euphoria that came with putting the bad guys away, with giving peace of mind to the families of the victims. He didn't regret his choice. He loved his family and wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. But sometimes he wished he could have it all.

"George," Violet said, pulling on his pant leg. "George, dada."

Horatio sighed and stood up. Ryan Wolfe had come up with the ingenious idea of giving Violet a duckling for her first birthday. Everyone thought it was the most adorable thing in the world, except the CSI apparently never thought about the fact that ducks are hard work, and they don't exactly make the most practical pets. The animal now lived in their backyard, had taken over Violet's plastic pool and spent most of his time quacking loudly. Horatio thought about giving the thing away, but Violet had grown so attached to the thing she couldn't go one day without hassling him to take her to see the forsaken animal, which had been baptized George by Wolfe himself.

Horatio picked her up and she grinned in anticipation. He walked outside, squinting at the Florida sun, and quickly realized there was something strange in the air. Before heading to the back he noticed the mailbox flag was up and he frowned, wondering why the mailman had made his round earlier than usual. With Violet making quacking sounds he walked over, reaching inside but instead of finding letters or bills he saw but a lone piece of paper.

He reached for it, turning it in his hand quickly, and the message written on it instantly made his heart drop. He felt chilly and sweaty as he read it again, and he quickly looked around the quiet neighborhood, attempting to recognize anything that looked out of the ordinary, but nothing particularly stood out.

"Dada, George," Violet reminded him again and Horatio looked at the note gravely. Holding it by a corner he held his daughter tighter and headed back into the house despite Violet's protestations.

At the end of the street, a nondescript car slowly drove away.

to be continued