Author's Note: Many thanks to all those who reviewed chapter 1. Have to admit there's some rambling in this chapter, wasn't quite in a 'normal' state of mind when writing. Apologies in advance for the disgust you (the reader) may feel when reading about certain sensation and also for various errors you may find. Please do review because I have lots of ideas floating around...but that's all their doing floating around! Cheers
Disclaimer: Nope I don't own any of the characters, although I wish I sometimes did.
Bitter-sweet nausea
Marisol lay in bed tossing and turning. It was a hot night and her pyjamas felt slightly damp with sweat. She sat up and propped herself up on her pillows and glanced at the street below through the window next to her bed, listening to the sounds of the night. She could hear the distant sounds of waves foaming onto the beach interspersed with the night traffic.
She felt the nausea rising and jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom and began retching into the toilet bowl. She closed her eyes as she felt the lumps make their way up her throat to be expelled from her mouth. She began vomiting with so much force that tears began to form at the corner of her eyes. She remained kneeling, palms flat on the cool tiled floor waiting for the next wave of nausea to arrive. It soon did, she vomited with as much force as she could muster, knowing it was better to have everything out rather than to keep it inside and have the repeated nausea attacks. She pulled the flush and then sat back against the terracotta, appreciating the soothing coolness of the tile against her bare arms and shoulders. She sat in that position for a little while waiting for the nausea to dissipate and some mental energy to haul herself up and into the shower. Instead the nausea hit her again and she leaned over and vomited again, as the onion soup she had had at dinner tumbled from her mouth into the water. The pain in her abdomen was almost too much to bear! After this wave passed, she lay down on the tiled floor, too weak to think or move, waiting for everything to slow down.
The minutes stretched into an hour before Marisol was finally able gather enough strength to get into the shower. She peeled of her sweat-drenched pyjamas and threw them into the linen basket near the door and stepped into the steam-enveloped shower. After her shower she changed into a fresh set of pyjamas and padded downstairs to her living room, collecting a bottle of water from the kitchen on the way. She switched on the lights and took out a photo album from her bookshelf and sat down with it on the couch. She turned each page gently, lovingly running her eyes and fingers across the photos at the memories she had now come to cherish and appreciate more since her prognosis. She closed the album with a sigh and placed it on the coffee table that acted as a centrepiece in her living room. She was glad Eric didn't stay tonight. She knew it was dangerous for her to be alone on the nights after she had her chemotherapy because there were times when the nausea was unbearable and Eric's soothing during those moments was the only thing that could hold back the tears and anguish that threatened to break after the nausea hit her. But she had managed to convince Eric to keep his date with Natalia Boa Vista, telling him she would be fine, chanting the usual line of 'Independent Woman'. Besides she promised to call him if she did need him.
She thought about her day ahead, she had another chemo session for 9a.m and then her 'medicating' date with marijuana, where Isabella would be keeping a watchful eye on her, and then dinner. Her eyes fell on the freesias that Horatio had sent her the day before. She smiled thinking how she thought of him as Lieutenant Caine and still occasionally lapsed into calling him that rather than Horatio, which he insisted she call him- especially since they had been seeing each other regularly for 3 weeks now. They hadn't done anything yet in the physical sense. Somehow taking it slow was an unspoken understanding they had between them, and so having dinner together remained the status quo, with the occasional kiss on the cheek now and again. She had muddled up her chemotherapy dates when agreeing to make dinner for Horatio, and well neither could be undone, her chemo couldn't be rescheduled and she didn't want to reschedule dinner with Horatio. She felt guilty about not telling Eric about her chemo appointment the next day because he would probably advise her against having dinner with Horatio that night, and if she didn't listen he'd probably tell Horatio who would probably agree and so postpone dinner with her. She knew Horatio was very busy at work and that she couldn't spend as much time with him as she'd like. She cherished her time with him just as she cherished the photos in her albums, precious in a perspective that only she could see and understand. She hoped she'd make it through dinner without incident. Just knowing that she'd see him made her feel better and gladder. She glanced at the clock, taking note of the time and decided to try and get some sleep before morning.
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At 7.30 pm, Marisol placed the lasagne in the oven and closed the oven door with a relieved sigh. She had rushed the lasagne a bit because she and Bella had got a bit caught up with deciding on wedding color combinations. She had lied to Bella too, telling her that Eric would come over later and that there was no need for her to wait. But now after spending only an hour in the kitchen and an hour tidying up the knick-knacks scattered around the place, she felt worn out. She looked at the clock again and realised that the effects of her 'medication' would cease in another 2 hours, enough to get her through dinner and then she'd just have to rely on will power till Horatio left.
She went into her bathroom to have a shower and get ready for dinner. She glanced into the mirror as she undressed. Marisol knew she looked young and many couldn't believe that she was already well past her mid-thirties. But everyday she looked in the mirror; she was able to see the chemo slowly catching up with her. She wondered what would happen with Horatio when the chemo finally did catch up. She hoped he wasn't just sticking around just because he felt sorry for her. It then occurred to her, how wrong everything could go if he was, especially with regard to Eric and him. If they did break up, she at least would never see him again, but the same couldn't be said for Eric. Bella's words from when they had coffee together, now took on a new meaning. She needed to be sure for herself that she wasn't deluding herself in her hopes of trying to find happiness. She would talk to him about it tonight, because there really was no point in them seeing each other, if the feelings were just one sided. She hoped with all her heart that they weren't. The more Marisol thought about it, while she showered, the angrier it made her to think that he was seeing her because he pitied her. It reached a point where she began to feel faint and grabbed whole of the railing to steady herself. She stepped out of the shower and forced herself to calm down. She wrapped a towel around her slender frame and ran down to check on the food. She made her way back upstairs, mentally trying to decide what to wear. In her bedroom she finally settled on a white-red embroidered skirt and matching red halter-top. She had just started drying her hair when the doorbell rang. She looked at her watch and let out a soft curse in Russian, knowing she had spent too much time on choosing her outfit. She ran a brush through her damp curls and made her way downstairs to open the door. She opened the door slightly breathless, and there he was: hands in his beige trousers, leaning against her doorframe wearing a blue shirt that complemented his eyes.
"Hi, I know I'm a bit late." He said apologetically.
"Hi, oh don't worry, I don't consider two minutes past eight to be late at all." She smiled as she let him come in.
Horatio placed a soft kiss on her cheek before stepping past her into the apartment. She shut the door after him and turned to face him. He looked into her eyes and saw that something was definitely in the air.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Tell you about it later," Marisol replied blithely as she took his hand and led him to the living room and sat him down on the couch.
"Something smells good." Horatio said sniffing the air appreciatively.
Marisol laughed, "That's what you said last time and I ended up burning the casserole. Well I hope you don't mind lasagne. I kind of got home late because of Bella."
"Anymore inquisitions?" Horatio inquired, with a raised eyebrow, his eyes twinkling.
"Well no." Marisol had told him about Bella's little inquisition. Horatio had thought it quite funny at the time, "Actually we were looking at possible color themes for the wedding. It's a very mind-absorbing task, you know." She said with a hint of sarcasm.
"I'll bet." Horatio replied matching her tone. He looked at her again, and saw she had paled slightly, " Marisol, are you all right?"
"Yup, I'm fine." Marisol suddenly felt very hot and weak. She needed to get away from him; she couldn't let him see her like this. "You just sit and relax, I'll pour the wine and check on the food." She jumped up and all but ran to the kitchen.
Horatio looked at her retreating back in confusion, knowing it couldn't still be the shyness that had lingered on in varying degrees from their first dinner. He knew that there was definitely something on her mind, but he didn't want to push the issue knowing she would open up to him when she was comfortable and confident enough to do so. He enjoyed coming to her apartment. He settled into the couch, and took in the flowers on the table, the soft lavender aroma from the lit candles around the room helped to relax him. Feeling uncomfortable with his jacket still on. He slipped it off and got up to hang it on a coat peg near the door. On his way back he decided to stop in the kitchen and see if she needed help opening the bottle. To his utter shock he saw Marisol slumped on the floor. He ran to her, checked her pulse and made sure her breathing was normal before he placed his hand beneath her head and lifted her into a sitting position against one of the cupboards. He poured a glass of water, crouched down beside her and gently called her name.
Marisol's eyes flew open, as she felt the nausea was rising again. She held back her panic, this wasn't supposed to be happening now. She saw Horatio beside her with a glass of water and gave a small smile.
"Hi, you had me really worried there for a second. I was just about to call 911." He said softly as he made her sip the water. "What happened?"
"I….I guess I must have just blacked out."
His eyes probingly searched hers, "Has it ever happened before."
She nodded focusing intently on the glass of water, "A couple of times."
He was just about to ask her if it had something to do with her chemo, when to his surprise Marisol jumped up. She couldn't control the nausea anymore. She held her hand to her mouth, as she felt the bitter bile in her mouth. She begged herself not to throw up infront of him.
"Lieutenant Caine, please call Eric for me. Please?" The words tumbled from her muffled mouth and with that she shot out of the room Horatio following close behind. He yanked his phone out of his pocket and called Eric.
"Delko"
"Eric, it's Horatio, I'm at Marisol's and she just blacked out…"
"What!"Eric jumped off his couch and grabbed his keys.
"It's all right, she's come to now, but I have the sneaking suspicion that she had a chemo session today. Just get here as fast as you can."
"I'll be right there H." Eric hung up and with a grim face locked his apartment door and ran to the car.
Horatio closed his phone and was for a second lost, unsure of what exactly he should do now. Crossing over to the kitchen quickly, he filled another glass of water and took it upstairs. He found Marisol, sitting on the floor in her bathroom. She looked heartbreakingly beautiful with her skirt pooled around her and tears in her eyes. She leaned over and vomited again. Horatio sat down beside her and put his arms around her while she let out a gentle sob. He smoothed the tendrils of hair away from her eyes and dabbed gently at her mouth with his handkerchief.
"I'm sss… sorry Horatio." She wheezed as she drank some water.
"Shh…" he whispered, gently rocking her, "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me? Oh Marisol I want you to get better not get worse. You're straining yourself too much on my account." He felt her body shudder against his. She lurched out of his arms as another spasm over took her. He gently rubbed her back as she keeled over to retch some more. When she finished, she felt a wave of dizziness overcome her and her body went limp. Horatio this time was quick enough to catch her before her head hit the terracotta. She lay with her head cradled in his hands, gulping breaths of air, waiting for the room to stop spinning. He kept smoothing back her temple, hoping it was having some kind of soothing effect on her. After a couple of minutes he gave her a sip of water. She reached up for his hand, which he gave her. She brought it down to herself and slowly traced out the lines on his hand, forcing her eyes to focus on the length of each of the lines on his palm that she traced out. Horatio soon felt her beginning to relax and was just about to suggest sitting up when she sat bolt upright, throwing his hand aside in an effort not to retch on it and began retching again.
Horatio then heard a door bang and Eric shout their names,
"Up here, Eric." He called back to the younger man.
Eric shot up the stairs and skidded to a halt at Marisol's bathroom door. He was glad to see his sister in such caring hands.
"H, don't worry, I've got this." Eric said as he knelt down to take Marisol in his arms.
"Marisol, did you have a chemo session today?" he asked gently. The look in his sister's eyes told him everything he needed to know. He nodded an affirmative to Horatio, who closed his eyes knowing he was an indirect cause of her pain. They soon flew open as Marisol began retching again; her body shuddered some more in her brother's arms. She knelt back into his warming embrace as he closed his arms around her. He softly hummed a tune in her ear that Horatio did not recognise. She closed her eyes, unable to move. A tear slipped down.
Eric didn't know what to do, slightly embarrassed of showing his softer side in front of his boss. Horatio sensing the younger man's discomfort took out his handkerchief and gently dabbed at the tear.
"Thanks H." said Eric as he leaned forward to look at what Marisol had released, he noted with dismay the blood intermingled with the vomit
"No worries Eric. Do you want to call an ambulance?"
Eric gave a dry chuckle, "Nah H, she'll be ok, it's just the blood isn't supposed to be in the vomit. The doctors said that the blood disappearing altogether would be a sign that she was getting better. And well it hasn't disappeared, only lessened slightly from when she started chemo 9 months ago."
Horatio nodded as Eric spoke, "Anything you want me to do right now?"
"Actually could you make some ORS? The sugar should be in one of the top cupboards."
"Sure. Be back soon."
Marisol heard voices around her. It then came back to her with dizzying clarity that she was supposed to be having dinner with Horatio, instead she was sitting on the floor in her brother's arms. She still felt weak. She struggled to push herself up against Eric and opened her eyes.
"Hey." She heard Eric's whisper.
"Hi." She mouthed back and tried to smile.
"Tonight was pretty bad huh? Worse than usual?"
She nodded. "Where's Horatio?" she whispered, her mouth feeling very dry.
Eric laughed and kissed her slowly on her forehead, "He's gone to make some oral rehydrating solution. Here he is now."
"Hey." Horatio said as he knelt next to them.
Eric took the water from him and made Marisol sip slowly. Horatio felt proud of his CSI as he watched him gently administer the re-hydrating sugar solution. This was a gentler, tender Eric that didn't often come out in the lab. After half an hour Marisol felt better and was able to sit up more, she remained in Eric's arms.
"How about bed now?" Eric asked his sister
"But what about dinner? Horatio came all this way!"
"Marisol, really…dinner is the last thing on our minds. I think you really need to rest." Horatio said, his eyebrow raised in amused exasperation. Eric looked at him and shrugged.
"Mari, Horatio's right." Eric said.
Marisol felt her strength returning, "But I'm feeling better! How about I make you guys a deal, because I slave over a stove for nadda." She looked at both men who just shrugged their shoulders, she could see their twinkling eyes and continued "You guys eat dinner and I'll just sit with you, with my sugared water. How about that?"
"What's for dinner again Mari?"
"Lasagne and dessert is apple pie with vanilla ice cream." Marisol replied knowing her brother would never say no.
Eric put on a pretence of considering his sister's proposal, but soon gave up and smiled, "How about it H?"
Horatio still seemed unsure, "I really don't know, maybe I ought to go now, I really think you need your rest."
"Please Horatio?" Marisol asked, her hazel eyes begging him. Eric joined in with a mock plea of his own.
Horatio laughed, "Ok, deal." He got up and helped lift Marisol up from Eric's arms.
Eric saw his sister was still shaky so he swooped her up into his arms and carried her down and propped her in a chair. Horatio placed her glass infront of her and then helped Eric with plates and utensils.
The conversation mainly focused on work and the development of new techniques in the CSI world. Marisol listened in silence, content to observe the two men, occasionally asking a question about a technique. Horatio left at about 11.30 pm wishing brother and sister goodnight. He kissed Marisol's cheek softly as he left, promising to call them and let them know when he got home, which he duly did 45 minutes later.
Glad to know that Horatio was home and safe, Eric finished washing up the dishes, occasionally teasing Marisol about Horatio.
"Tomorrow, Bella and I are going to have a talk about your chemo sessions. No more stunts Marisol." Said Eric when he finished and sat down at the table with her.
"Agreed little brother. Yes and Bella will probably chew my head off too." Replied Marisol as she fiddled with her glass.
"You're really into him aren't you?" Eric asked somewhat sheepishly
"Is it that obvious?" Marisol asked,
"Yes, in more ways than one." Her brother replied laughing, "Me and H. having dinner, never thought I'd see the day! How long has it been? A couple of weeks now."
"3 weeks actually,"
"Ooooh, plan on celebrating your one month anniversary? Marisol you're blushing!"
Indeed she was, Marisol hadn't actually thought about it and now she didn't know what to think of it. Her mind wandered back to her original thoughts earlier in the evening and knew that before any damn anniversary she would have to ask him.
He carried her upstairs to her bedroom. While Marisol changed into pyjamas, he made out a fresh re-hydrating solution, which he took upstairs along with a bottle of water. Finding Marisol settled in bed, he put the water on a night-stand, got a blanket from a cupboard in the next room and settled himself on the chair next to his sister's side.
"Goodnight Mari." Said Eric settling down into the comfort of his chair.
"Goodnight little brother, and thank-you." Replied Marisol. Marisol closed her eyes and pretended to fall asleep.
Horatio got home and changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt. He lay in bed thinking about the evening. He realised that Marisol had grown to mean more and more to him over each passing day as he got to know her more. He had been so touched that she had gone through all that effort for him even though she had had chemo that day. Just the thought of her gone brought a sharp pain to his chest. He was glad she was in his life. She brought him fresh perspective with her funny anecdotes and childhood memories that had been so different from his. He thought it was wonderful that she had hung on to her sense of humour through her illness. He closed his eyes as thoughts of her and sensations of her overcame him and he gently slipped into a deep sleep.
Marisol heard Eric's regular breathing and opened her eyes. In her hands she clutched Horatio's handkerchief, which he had left behind in her bathroom. She brought it to her face remembering the tenderness he had used when he was with her. She smelt him all over and it excited her. She opened it up and ran her fingers along the material; her fingers came to rest on the imprint that her tears had left on it. Letting out a sigh, she folded it up again and clutched it tightly as she sent a quick prayer to the Man above, thanking him for all that she had the pleasure of experiencing in the day. She turned on her side to face her brother and watched him sleep peacefully as she felt herself slipping into the cradling arms of a dream filled sleep.