Ryan: What took you so long in posting a new chapter? The guys are about to get here for Pete's sake.

Little Horatio: (glares) Oh, sure. NOW you talk to me.

Ryan: Hey, I have the right to know, and so does you're readers. So, give it.

Little Horatio: Okay, Mister I-have-the-right-to-know! For your information I just finished my final exams and my thesis paper and the freakin' recollection we had a day ago. That's why I couldn't post any new stories. So I'm SOOOH-REEE!

Ryan: Okay, okay! No need to go all bitchy on me, sheesh!

Little Horatio: Sorry, Ry. I'm just so tired, you know? (sigh) And I'm going to have to waste my writing time practicing for the damn graduation ceremony.

Ryan: (shrug) Just look on the bright side, you're going to graduate high school…

Little Horatio: Yeah (looks on the bright side)…you're right!

Ryan: …and start with college…and get a part-time job…and worry about what course you're going to take…AND where you're going to live…

Little Horatio: (Rolls eyes…- -…)

Chapter 4: Deception

He didn't know why he arrived at MDPD at such an early hour and he was still wondering. It was unlike him. He usually arrived on time but, for him, this was too early. And the empty parking lot he was making his way through was eerily quiet and somewhat disturbing. The sun just came up an hour ago and the chilling breeze he felt made the hair on the back of his head stand up.

He kept on thinking on what to do on such an early morning while he walked, and as he made his way around the corner, out of nowhere, a hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder which made him jump out of his skin.

"Cal!" he exclaimed as he saw who the hand belonged to, "Jeez!"

"I'm sorry. Did I scare you?" she asked, withdrawing her hand.

"N-no," Eric denied quickly.

"Right," she said unbelievingly. Boys… "So, what're you doing here so early?"

"Honestly?" he said. "I've been thinking about that since I got here. How 'bout you?"

"I usually come here early."

"Not this early."

"Well, yeah," she admitted. She leaned on the wall. "I couldn't sleep too well. Something got me thinkin' and…I ended up awake half the night."

"Oh…" was the only thing Eric could answer at that moment as he joined her at the wall. And like he predicted, adamant silence ensued afterwards.

"I think Ben was wrong," she suddenly brought up, her hair being blown by the cold gentle wind.

Getting what she meant, Eric told her, "He's wrong or we want to think he's wrong."

"Look at the evidence," she went on as if not hearing him, "the very basis of his assumption was Horatio being able to re-set his shoulder. That's not enough. And it doesn't support his conclusion. Horatio's a smart man; of course he'd know how to fix a dislocated shoulder."

"Remember, Calleigh, he pointed out the hydraulic marks on H's body," Eric added, trying to show his point of view on their topic.

"Maybe, his father gave him those marks," Calleigh gave to Eric. "I mean, come on, Eric, if Horatio's uncle was a sadistic bastard, I don't know if I even want to think about what his father would've been."

She glanced at the already bright sky and proceeded. "I've thought this over and it may be plausible for Horatio to engage in self-injury, but, he isn't really the type of people who will, or much less imagine what he did to a young boy."

"There's still the case of child abuse," Eric said, looking at the said problem at both sides. "I've looked it up and people who've been abused as kids are those who're more likely to commit SI than others."

"Eric," she said, glancing at him, "I've been with Horatio for a very long time—"

"Me, too," he inserted.

"—and I think the description of a self-injurer does not fit him very well."

"All I'm saying is, we should keep an eye on him," reasoned the Cuban. "Whether he's really doing it or not, we need to be sure."

"How about the others?" she asked. "Are we even plannin' on telling 'em?"

"No, I don't think we need to. We're not even sure, remember?"

The southern belle sighed and gazed at the ground, saying, "I feel bad talkin' about Horatio like this. I feel like we're betraying his trust."

"Cal, the only thing we're doing is making sure he's safe," he said to her. "That's it."

"You're right," she replied and gave him a warm smile.

"Now," he smiled back, slightly blushing, "why don't we go in? I'm going to prepare something special for Wolfe."

"It's not another prank, is it?"

"No," he shook his head, leading to the doors of MDPD. "My black-eye is just fading. And I don't want anything harmful happen to my face for the time being. Too much time away from the ladies didn't do any good for my health."

Calleigh giggled at Eric's comment as she went in the building with him happily holding the door for her. He glanced up at the now bright sky before he followed her inside. He thought that it was going to be a good day.

CSI: Miami

He walked around the grounds with indifference showing in every step as he slowly passed by the very cathedral he and a close friend had been held captive in just a little over a week ago. He looked as if he wasn't the man that was gravely injured that tragic day. He wore a fresh black Hugo Boss suit but decided to leave his jacket at home.

From a distance, he saw a man sitting on a bench. He hesitated for a moment before continuing along the path.

"Beautiful, aren't they?"

Horatio glanced at the twittering birds ahead, flapping their wings while pecking on the ground.

"They sound happy, too."

"That's because they are," he replied, standing just beside the bench and eyes still focused at the birds that apparently had no worries whatsoever.

Though the old man had his head facing the other way, Horatio could tell that his smile shifted to a minor frown.

Face still out of sight, the older individual said, "How about you, my son? Judging from your tone of voice, you're anything but."

The redhead fell silent and lowered his gaze.

"Come, Horatio. Sit with me," the elder beckoned, gently tapping his hand on the vacant space to his left, his head not changing its position.

Horatio sat down next to him. "Thank you for seeing me…Father de la Vega."

The Cardinal smiled an old man's smile.

"It's been a long time…since my last visit," he said pensively. "That was…"

"10 years ago."

"Yes, nearly 10 years since my last visit," spoke Father de la Vega, his voice distant. "It's a pity I don't remember much of the scenery."

"Aside from the new buildings, nothing's changed," Horatio said plainly.

"Nothing but you, I suppose," said the Cardinal, smiling sadly.

Horatio looked at him and knew that the old Cardinal, at that moment, had never seemed so right. He did change, and unfortunately, for the worst.

"I really appreciate you coming here, father," he said, taking his mind off at the thought of changes.

Father de la Vega nodded and faced the other direction.

"And Father Benedetti apologizes for not being able to come. He's been rather busy as of late." The old Cardinal paused for awhile, listening to the birds as they flap their wings and chirp joyously. He also listened to his visitor's anomalous silence.

"Tell me what happened, Horatio," he suddenly said. "I've heard many people talk about it, telling different stories—their own versions of what happened, of what had been done to you."

Horatio kept silent, staring far away, even farther than the birds.

"But, what I want to hear," he went on, "is what happened after the adverse incident. Would it be okay if you would tell me?"

Horatio tore his gaze away from the swaying leaves of the trees and just stared at the moist grass beneath his feet. He heaved a tired breath.

"I woke up, lying on a bed in a hospital…a few days after, um, the incident." The Cardinal nodded. "I was discharged only last night."

"And how are you're injuries?" Father de la Vega asked. "Are they healing properly?"

The redhead's left hand roamed around at his right side, feeling his ribs, and began to squeeze a little.

"They're fine."

The Cardinal frowned for the second time. Bringing a hand up, he placed it on the younger's back. He felt his flinch.

"You've received new ones, haven't you?" he said, taking his hand back. "New scars?"

"It's nothing, Father."

"Horatio…with you, it's never nothing."

The redhead merely sat there, quiet and unmoving. He kept watching the still grass.

"Tell me what's on your mind."

"Well, father," Horatio said, trying so hard to lighten his mood. He remembered the face. "He was, um, he was my uncle."

Horatio started to tremble, but, this time, not out of fear. It was something that was burning in him for the past few days, something more hostile. And he felt he was going to explode any time soon. He used his left hand to cover his eyes, which were anything but gentle right now. He wanted to calm down, to overcome the feeling…but how? The question kept ringing in his head and he didn't know the answer.

Why did he come back for me?

"You're angry, Horatio,"

"He was my uncle!" he shouted, his voice echoing and disturbing not only the Cathedral that was right behind them, but also the home of the buried, Holy Redeemer Cemetery. And the birds, startled by his sudden outburst, fluttered their wings and flew away, leaving a distraught lieutenant and a mildly upset Cardinal.

"What have I told you about your anger, Horatio?" he asked, disappointment in his voice.

"Always let it go," the redhead answered automatically, like he did when he was still a child.

"And, did you?"

"No." There was shame in the younger man's voice. "I've held on to it for as long as I can remember."

The older man sighed and thought that they would discuss his lack of control for another time. Because, right now, there was something needed to know.

He came back for me…why?

"Horatio, tell me what's wrong."

"Everything, Father…" he replied, his anger still simmering. He brought his hand down and leaned back, looking worn-out. "Everything's wrong."

The older man seemed confused and turned his head to face his troubled companion. He said in a concerned voice, "Tell me why everything's wrong."

"He came back," Horatio simply answered, staring blankly at nothing. He knew the answer came out rather wrong. It was not what he was really thinking. "Samuel came back for me, and I let him do the things he did."

"You didn't know, Horatio," Father de le Vega told him. "There was nothing you can do."

"Because of him, I repeated the sin I've committed over two decades ago," the redhead shot back firmly, fury in his eyes. "He made me kill my own flesh and blood all over again."

"Made you?" said de la Vega questioningly. This was the other side of the younger man that he had not expected to see, not now. "Horatio, you're uncle didn't make you do anything. It was all you. You were given the chance to escape and just walk away, but you chose different."

"I did what I had to do," Horatio justified himself.

"No." he replied sternly. "You had to satisfy your lust for vengeance, and now, you have to live the rest of your life knowing that you have Samuel and Marc's blood in your hands."

"It's not my fault."

"That, I don't know the answer to, Horatio." De la Vega wondered if there was any chance that he could get through to him this time. He sighed. "As I've told you when you were a child, set aside your history with your father and uncle before it's too late. Forgive them for the things they did, especially Samuel."

"I didn't…" the redhead said, a look of distance on his face. "…and look what happened."

Horatio closed his eyes, pacing his breathing, and then opened his eyes again, saying, "I remember the last time Father Benedetti took my confession…the time before I shot a man known by the name of Diablo."

"You're angry, Horatio."

"Father, I am…I am confused."

"Well, guilt takes many forms," Father Benedetti told him.

"Father…I have been over this and over this a thousand times," he said, maintaining his composure, "and I am certain with every fiber in my body that I couldn't have done anything differently."

"I was right," Horatio said, seeing the result in his head, "I didn't do anything differently."

Father de la Vega was about to say something when Horatio suddenly chuckled.

"It's just a shame that I found out he was my uncle when it was too late," he said, an uncharacteristic smile on his darkening face. "I could've done much, much worse."

"Horatio," the older said, getting the other's attention, "listen to what you're saying. This is not like you."

"I don't know," the redhead cleared his head, "Maybe it is…"

"You still hate Samuel for what he did."

"Hate, Father, is…a complete understatement."

"You took his life and yet your feelings for him stay aggressively intact and mutual," said the Cardinal, not believing the younger man's attitude.

"That's because death does not cover what he did to me when I was a child," Horatio told him, his voice trembling in anger. Then, in a mutter, he added, "He was worse than my father."

"You're not satisfied with Samuel's death," said de la Vega, more of a statement rather than a question.

"How can I be?"

"What do you mean?"

"For the past several days, I have been trying to recall everything that had happened to me at that time," Horatio said. "But, still, there were blanks."

He looked at him. "Father…I don't remember killing anyone."

Father de la Vega fell silent at his statement. He brought into mind the times Horatio said that to him as a boy, about not remembering, especially when both of his parents died on the same day. The fact always worried him.

"What did you feel…" De la Vega paused. "…when you found out that Samuel was already dead?"

"I don't think I have to voice my sentiments on that matter, Father," Horatio answered. But then he saw the expression on the older man's visage, and said, "I felt that he deserved his death."

"Is that what you think?"

"That's what I know."

"That's not what I taught you, Horatio. Remember, Samuel—"

"No matter what you say, Father, the things he did to me were unforgivable," Horatio cut him off, rather surprised with himself and his new-found approach towards things that affected him so much.

"And so were the things you did to him…Horatio," the Cardinal reminded, sad that he wasn't able to get through to him. "Never forget that."

Horatio couldn't help but stare at the Cardinal. He knew that de la Vega was stricter than Benedetti, but it seemed to him that…the old man was taking Samuel's side more than his. He was the victim here. He did what he had to do to survive. Killing the man was his only option…wait. Why would he think that? He didn't even remember killing his uncle. So, why would killing be his only choice?

It was the only thing I could think of…

Whose voice was that? He heard it in his head but it wasn't his. It sounded proverbial yet unheard of.

It was the only thing I wanted to do…

"I want you to have this, Horatio," the old man abruptly said, after the awkward stillness that befell them with their topic. "Before you go and before I go back to New York."

Horatio brought himself back and out of his thoughts. He took the package that the Cardinal held out, wondering.

"What is it?"

"It's something you left at the church, all those years ago, along with other things" Father de la Vega answered. "Remember? Right after your mother and father died."

The redhead merely looked at him and waited in silence.

"I know it's a bad time," he explained, "but, I think it'll help you with your problem…about why he came back for you…"

"H-how…?"

"Horatio," the older smiled, "I've known you since you were at the age of two. I don't need to look at your face to see what's bothering you, and with what. Your mere silence says it all."

The younger looked down for a few seconds at the package he had placed on his lap. He was now beginning to get the idea of what it was.

"Father…"

Looking up, Horatio saw a young altar boy, standing next to Father de la Vega, and perceiving the words, "escort you back."

"I'm afraid I have to go, Horatio," de la Vega said, picking up the cane next to him and used it to get to his feet. "And I hope that what I gave you will serve its purpose, and solve your problem."

Horatio nodded and stood up, holding the package.

"Thank you, Father…and good-bye."

"Good-bye, my son," he replied, then made the sign of the cross. "May God watch over you and those around you."

After taking a few labored steps, accompanied by the young altar boy, Father de la Vega turned, his face at the direction of Horatio Caine, who was making his way back, looking at his feet as he took his pace in stride.

The Cardinal listened to any sound that might have gone astray before heading back. He was worried for the younger man with red hair, and he could only say so little for him.

"May the pain you have known and the conflict you have experienced, Horatio Gabriel Caine, give you the strength to walk through life facing each new situation with unwavering courage and passion."

CSI: Miami

"Good morning."

"Good morning, Alexx," Eric and Calleigh greeted back, taking their eyes off the T.V.

"Well, aren't you two early today," Alexx said, holding a muffin. She got her mug and filled it with some fresh coffee. Before taking a sip she took a whiff, savoring the aroma.

"Wait," she said, recognizing something. "Eric, did you brew one of yours? 'Cause I smell Café Cubano in my cup."

"Yeah," he answered. "H said I should prepare mine. Said that Wolfe needed it. You prefer something else?"

"No, baby, this is fine. And to tell you the truth, I really need it." she said and took a sip. "I was so busy last night taking care of my husband that I didn't get a chance to sleep. I told him not eat any of my friend's cooking. He had indigestion all night."

"Ew," laughed Calleigh.

"You got that right, honey."

"Remind me never to come near your friend's cooking, Alexx," Eric told her.

"Be nice to me and I will," joked Alexx. She caught a glimpse of the time when she saw the wall clock, and asked, "What time was Horatio suppose to get here?"

"Nine," answered Calleigh. "He and Ryan should be here in about…5 minutes."

"Plenty of time to prepare H's gifts," said Delko, sitting comfortably on the sofa. "I let Natalia keep 'em to make sure."

"So you admit you tend to lose things," Calleigh said, a bright smile on her face.

"I do not—Hey, Wolfe," Eric said, seeing Ryan storm into the break room.

"What's with the grumpy face this early in the morning, baby?"

Ryan Wolfe stifled a yawn. "It's my uncle Ron. He didn't tell me that his flight was cancelled last night so I had to drive him to the airport at 6 o'clock this morning."

He grabbed his mug and filled it with coffee. Almost taking a sip, he drew back his lips and concentrated on the smell. "Is this Café Cubano?"

"Yeah."

"Ugh, yuck!" Wolfe exclaimed, putting down his mug on the counter.

"What do you mean 'yuck'!" said Eric, confused and annoyed. "H told me to make this stuff for you! And speaking of my brother-in-law, where is he?"

"I'm supposed to ask you that question," shot back Ryan, confused.

"What are you talking about, Wolfe?"

"This isn't the time for jokes, Ryan," Calleigh told him, "Where's Horatio?"

"Why are you asking me?" said the youngest CSI. "Eric was the one who gave H a lift."

"What!" the Cuban exclaimed. "Very funny, Wolfe. You're the one who's supposed to get H."

"Are you out of your mind, Delko?" shot back Ryan. "Last night, you said you'd give H a lift."

"Stop lying."

"I'm not!" Ryan said in defense, besides, he was telling the truth. "Last night, you asked me if I was sure and I said if it was okay with you, and you said, 'Sure, why not?'"

"What!" Okay, something was definitely wrong here! "I said, 'Sure, why not?' meaning that it was okay for me to make you a batch of my Café Cubano!"

"Why would I want your coffee!" He gave him a grossed out look. "The thing's worse than devil worship for crying out loud!"

"But, H said you needed it!"

"No. He said I needed sleep, not drink chest-hair stimulants!"

"Oh, no, he didn't."

Eric and Ryan turned their heads and glanced at a pissed looking Alexx Woods.

"I can't believe, him," she growled, putting her coffee on the counter; her eyes glowing with suppressed anger more than worry.

"Alexx, you don't mean—"

"She did," Calleigh interrupted him, giving him the look.

Eric couldn't believe it. His brother-in-law had pulled one over him…AGAIN! Ryan saw him frown almost instantly and got more confused.

"Wha—"

"It's nine-oh-five," the Cuban suddenly mentioned. "You think he's just late?"

"Remember the last time he was late?" uttered Alexx sourly.

"Um—"

Calleigh sighed and ran a hand through her bright hair. "Come on, guys, let's go."

"Uh, guys!" Ryan had no clue what they were talking about and all three of them got out the break room at once. He hastily followed them out, walking in a fast pace.

"Guys," he called out when he was near enough, "what are you talking about?"

"H tricked you, Wolfe," Eric told him in a serious tone. "He tricked us both."

"You mean about the—"

"Yes."

"Oh, shit."

Ryan mentally hit himself on the head. Horatio had tricked him! And what's worse…he fell for it! If something happened to his boss and friend, he had no one to blamed but himself.

The second they darted out the break room, they caught the attention of the lab techs and some police officers; perplexed looks on their faces. And the numbers grew as they hastened their pace.

Rick Stetler just got off the elevator, obvious that he was minding nobody's business but his. His dark tresses were neat as usual, his suit, unwrinkled and well-pressed, and his tie, purely in proportion. And, of course, his shoes all shined and in pristine condition. He relished the sweet aroma of his coffee, taking one long and deep whiff.

"Ah…heaven," he accentuated. He took a sip. "Simply delicious."

He was about to take another mouthful when a hand, out of the nowhere, pushed him forcefully aside and "out-of-the-way," extremely hot coffee spilling all over down his chin to his shirt and to his pants. Even his nose had a sufficient dose. Slipping off his feet, he plummeted to the linoleum floor. One hand around his throat and the other pounding on his chest, he roughly coughed, his bottom aching.

"Excuse me—emergency," was the only thing Rick's ears perceived other than his constant coughing, and, after a second, the ding of the elevator, its metal doors, shutting.

CSI: Miami

Though he had already parked the Hummer five minutes ago, he still couldn't push himself to get out. Wasn't he the one who wanted to go to work? Then, why did he feel like he'd rather stay at home and be alone?

Horatio closed his eyes, his left hand drifting to his right side, feeling its heat. He used his fingers to gently graze the surface of his bruised ribs. Then, he pressed.

The hissing sound that escaped his lips followed by the gritted teeth he exposed was not at all good. He slowly sucked a lung-full of air, not risking anything if he did otherwise. The pain came sharply and it didn't hold anything back. He could feel the swelling and some tightening on the inside. Not good, he thought.

He opened his eyes and with a turn of his head, he saw the sling, lying on the passenger's seat; unused from the moment he woke up. He had no idea as to why he even brought the frustrating thing if he had no intention using it in the first place. And he couldn't help but to bite his lower lip when the stinging sensation did not, in any way, evaporate.

Just have to get used to it, that's all, the thought came into mind.

Something else caught his attention when he didn't take his eyes off the sling. There, right next to it, was a parcel wrapped with Manila paper, the one he had received from Father de la Vega before they bade each other good-bye. He wanted to open it, but something inside him badly forbade the idea. He wondered what why.

CSI: Miami

"He's not answering," said Calleigh, pressing a button on her cell phone and pocketing it. She called Horatio at his house twice and it just kept jumping from ringing to "leave a message."

"I'm getting worried, Alexx."

"Me, too, honey," Alexx said to her, pushing the doors of MDPD open.

"Don't worry, we can—"

"Horatio!"

They looked to the direction Calleigh was heading at and, from afar (the parkade), they saw their redheaded boss just getting out of Hummer H2.

The call of his name made him look up, and there he saw his team running towards him, with Calleigh ahead of them. He tilted his head, a confounded look on his face.

"Calleigh?"

"Horatio," she exclaimed, gasping for air from all the running. She stopped right in front of him, hands on knees, inhaling and exhaling raggedly.

"Horatio…"

"Calleigh, are you okay?" Horatio asked out of worry.

The southern blonde straightened herself after taking one final deep breath and said, "I'm glad you're alright."

"Huh?" the redhead uttered, bemused. And, out of nowhere, a hand slapped him on the arm, followed by the words, "That's for getting us worried!"

Horatio was about to say something but then saw the rest of his team behind her.

"Where on earth have you been, Horatio Caine!" bellowed Alexx sharply.

"You worried us shitless, H!" Eric told him.

"We thought something happened again!" said Ryan.

"You didn't get here on time so we got concerned," Calleigh spoke.

Horatio just got out of his Hummer, and already he was welcomed by a barrage of angry and anxious CSIs. His eyes trailed to the wristwatch Eric was wearing to get the time.

"It's only eight past nine," he said bluntly. "I'm just a little late, that's all."

"Remember the last time you were a little late? Alexx reminded him.

Horatio stopped and pondered on the statement.

"Good point."

"Honestly, Horatio," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know what to do with you. What were you thinking tricking these two? We were worried sick about you."

"I apologize," he replied, lowering his gaze to the ground. "I'm sorry for not thinking at all."

"And you should be," Alexx said, still a bit flustered.

Calleigh just gave a sigh of relief and said, "We're just glad you're okay."

"I am."

"Come on," she said, "We should get back to the crime lab."

"Wait."

Ryan turned and asked, "What is it, Alexx?"

"Horatio," she said, crossing her arms. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Horatio looked at her questioningly and saw her finger tapping on her arm and then he remembered; the sling.

"I, uh…do I have to?"

……………………………………………………………………

Little Horatio: I can't believe I gave up a lot of clues here!

Ryan: Really? What kind?

Little Horatio: Me no tell!

Calleigh: Hey, guys, we're back!

Alexx: Looks like you had fun…especially you, honey. (Looks at Horatio, his hair messy and so was his usually neat suit.) What did you do?

Horatio: Ask them (feeling all violated, pointing at Rick and Eric).

Alexx: (Hears Calleigh laugh)…?

Little Horatio: Anyway, I apologize again for making you guys wait. Life is hectic right now and I'm helping my cousin, Ivan, and my best bud, kiuna'yukina, do community service. We're getting down and dirty! (Heh). I hope you guys liked this one! You know the drill! Leave whatever you want and thanks for reading!

Rick: (All drunk). Who's she talking to? Her imaginary friends? (Bursts into laughter). Freak!

Eric: (Drunk, too). What a weirdo! Heheh!

Little Horatio: (Glares). Wait 'til you guys get sober…you're gonna be dead meat!

Rick: Meat? Where? I want meat!