"Mixed Feelings" – Part VI: "Superficial Wounds?"

Title: "Mixed Feelings"

Author: ducainefan

Rating: M (to be safe)

Subject: H/C relationship

NOTE: This part of the story takes place between the Season 5 episodes "Burned" and "Born to Kill." Here's even more fluff – since you guys seemed to like it so much 

'Maybe she's in there,' Eric said to Horatio as he watched the young CSI head toward another car. Suddenly shots rang out. Following protocol, Horatio ducked behind a car, discharging his weapon, once, twice. Eric was still out in the open, firing his own gun when Horatio watched him collapse to the ground, screaming.

'Eric!' Horatio yelled, running over and dragging Eric behind another car while firing his weapon for cover. Horatio's heart was racing as he watched Eric stare at the car in front of him. At first, he thought his CSI was going into shock, the bullet having pierced his upper thigh, but then he saw it ­— the sniper. One quick shot was all it took, and Horatio sighed in relief, looking back at Eric.

'I'm fine,' Eric breathed, grasping his wound. 'I'm gonna be fine.' If this had happened two years ago, Horatio would've been kneeling next to him, putting pressure on the wound, but instead, he stood in shock, the whole scene playing out for him in slow motion. He couldn't believe it. It all seemed like a bad dream. All he could think was, 'Not again.'

Just when he was about to get his wits together and go to Eric's aid, Horatio heard another shot ring out. What he didn't see was the blood that spurted from the back of Eric's head as the second sniper hit his mark. Horatio turned quickly, shooting off a few rounds until he heard the assailant fleeing.

When he looked back, Eric was down again — this time the gunman had struck a fatal blow. Trying to process the image before him, Horatio stared at Eric's eerily open eyes, watching the blood pool around his head.

'Eric?' he called quietly, his voice cracking. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity — as if willing himself to wake up from this nightmare. When he realized it wasn't a dream, his instincts took over.

'Eric!' he cried more forcefully, kneeling beside his brother-in-law. 'Oh no, no,' he rasped, feeling his neck for a pulse. 'Eric, talk to me! Keep breathing, brother …'

Horatio had lost so much over the past year, and the prospect of losing not only a good friend, but also someone who had become family to him haunted his thoughts as he shook his head in disbelief. 'No, oh no,' he whispered again, grasping Eric's hand, checking his palm for a pulse.

He didn't hear the sirens, didn't feel the tears sliding down his face as the paramedics pulled him away, asking him what had happened. All he could think of was that Eric was dead. Just like Ray, just like Marisol.

At the thought of her name, Horatio looked up and could've sworn he saw his wife standing before him, looking more concerned than angry. 'You promised me, Horatio,' she said softly. 'You promised me you'd look after my little brother … don't you remember?"

'I … I … Marisol?" he whispered, shocked and ashamed.

'You can't let this happen, Horatio," he heard her say. 'You can't let him die the way I did. You promised me. You promised me.'

Those words echoed continuously through Horatio's mind until an EMT snapped him out of his torment.

'Lieutenant,' the young EMT called rather loudly, and Horatio looked up, meeting his gaze. 'What happened, sir?'

'I … Sniper hit … Clavo Cruz,' he said in a low voice. 'Eric …'

'He's gone, lieutenant.'

Horatio looked up in disbelief, watching as the EMTs slowed their actions. 'Hey!' Horatio shouted. 'Let's go, let's load him!'

'I can't get a pulse, lieutenant,' said one of the EMT who was working on Eric. The name on his shirt read "Gonzalez" 'You see all this blood?' he continued. 'He'd be lucky if he made it to the hospital alive. I don't think we're gonna win this one.'

'I'm not giving up on him, Gonzalez, you understand me?' Horatio said, eyes blazing. 'I'm not giving up, and neither are you. So keep working.'

The EMT looked at Horatio. The half-crazed look in his eyes was enough to get Gonzalez back to finding a pulse. Horatio watched as three people worked on his young CSI in a desperate attempt to resurrect him.

'C'mon Eric,' he said loudly, hoping his CSI would hear him. 'Don't you leave me, pal.'

'Hey! I got a pulse, let's load him!' Gonzalez called, and Horatio looked up, a flash of hope rising inside him.

'That's it, Eric, hang in there,' Horatio called, following the CSI into the emergency vehicle.

'Sorry lieutenant,' Gonzalez said, stopping him from going into the back. He could see rage in Horatio's gaze, and took a step back. 'Listen, we gotta get as many of our guys in there as possible to keep him stable.'

'OK, OK,' Horatio replied, his jaw clenched. 'I'll meet you there.'

--------------------------------

Calleigh was stirred from her sleep as she felt Horatio tossing and turning in the bed. She'd only seen him have nightmares like this twice before — and both times he had gotten up and slept on the couch afterwards, avoiding any attempt she made at finding out what had happened. She turned on her side, facing him, not sure if she should wake him. He was soaked in sweat, but she was pretty sure it was tears that were running down his cheeks.

"Eric," he cried in desperation, and she knew right away what this dream was about. "No … Marisol …"

Calleigh's eyebrows went up at the mention of Marisol's name. They'd never discussed her — it was a sore subject for the both of them — so they carefully tap-danced around it.

"I'm … no, I'm sorry…" he mumbled. Calleigh's eyes began to well up with unwanted tears as she watched in horror. She hated time like this — even though they were few and far between. She felt so helpless. She had to do something.

"Horatio," she whispered, caressing his back gently.

"No … Eric … Marisol," he moaned, his brows furrowed in concern. "I can't … I can't …"

Calleigh placed two fingers on Horatio's neck and felt his pulse. It was racing, and she knew she had to wake him up before he had a heart attack in his sleep.

"Horatio!" she called loudly.

"NO!" he screamed, jetting up in the bed, accidentally knocking Calleigh away and onto the floor. "I … what …" he was breathing heavy, trying to take in his surroundings.

"Horatio," Calleigh whispered, one hand on the bed and the other holding her arm. Horatio looked to his left to see Calleigh, kneeling on the floor, trying to get back onto the bed.

"Calleigh what … what's goin' on?" he asked groggily, leaning over to help her back into bed.

"You had a bad dream," she said, groaning as she lay down on her back, still clutching her left shoulder, which was bleeding.

"I … oh God … are you hurt? Did I hurt you," he asked, panicked, shifting over quickly and reaching for her arm.

"It's fine," she said, trying to give him a smile, but it came out as a grimace when he touched her shoulder.

"It doesn't look fine," he said with concern. "Oh God, Cal … I'm …"

"Horatio, it's OK. I must've knocked into the corner of the dresser on my way down.

I just need to ice it," she said, getting up from the bed.

Horatio shook his head as he watched her get up and head to the bathroom, his stomach churning. "Calleigh …"

"It's superficial," she called, running the water and cleaning the cut. She went to the medicine cabinet and grabbed the peroxide. When she didn't hear him reply, she sighed, trying to lighten the mood. "C'mon Horatio, you know I've had much worse. Don't you remember that time with the harpoon?"

The silence hung over both of them, and Calleigh shook her head as she placed a bandage over the wound and walked back into the bedroom.

"Horatio, stop blaming — " she stopped midway through her sentence as she looked up, realizing he was no longer in bed. "Horatio?" she said, concerned. She threw on her bathrobe and made her way to the living room. It was dark, and she was tempted to turn on a light, until she heard his voice coming from the corner of the room.

"I should go," Horatio said in a low tone. He was staring out her window, one arm leaning against the wall, clad only in his boxers.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she insisted, moving behind him and wrapping her arms around him. She was struck by the height difference – she usually was eye-to-eye with him, but in her bare feet it was hard to reach him. She kissed his shoulder gently, holding him tighter.

"I think I should go," he said again, his voice cracking. He turned, breaking the embrace, but she stepped in front of him.

"Don't hide from me," she said, her voice strong but filled with emotion.

Horatio sighed and looked down, his eyes wandering to her arm. "Can I see?" he asked.

She nodded silently, and went to pull the cloth from her shoulders, but he stopped her. "May I?" he asked quietly, placing his hand on the top of her robe. She nodded again, and he pushed the material away from her shoulder. She watched his eyes, which were clearly visible due to the reflection of the streetlights through the window. She desperately wanted to read him.

The first emotion she thought she saw in Horatio's eyes was confusion, followed by a flash of anger, and then a flood of regret. His hand smoothed over her shoulder, removing the bandage. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on her wound.

"Horatio," she rasped, watching as a tear trickled down his face. He continued to stare at her shoulder. "Horatio?"

"I swore I'd never be like him," he said in a dark voice she had never heard before.

"Like who?" she asked softly, her hand moving to his face to wipe the tear away.

"Like my father," he sighed, looking down and moving toward the couch. He sat down with a sigh, placing his head in his hands. Calleigh followed, silently taking a seat next to him. Horatio rubbed his face, then leaned forward, folding his hands. "I'm sorry Calleigh," he said, finally breaking the silence.

"You were dreaming," she whispered, taking his hands and entwining them in hers. "Do you remember?"

He looked away, but grasped her fingers tightly. It was so hard for him to share these things with her. "All I want is to protect the people I love, but all I seem to do is get them hurt," he rasped, ducking his head.

"Was it about Eric?" she asked hesitantly. He looked up, staring at the wall.

"Yea," he whispered. "The shooting again. It's always the same …"

"But Eric didn't die, Horatio — you saved him."

"It should've been me," he said, shaking his head.

"God … Don't think like that, Horatio," she rasped, grasping his hands tighter.

"I promised her I'd protect him," he choked out, his emotions overpowering him. "I promised her …"

"Marisol," Calleigh said simply.

"Yes," Horatio replied, looking down. There was an awkward silence — they tried never to broach this subject.

"Horatio," Calleigh sighed, looking at their hands. "Come back to bed with me." He looked up at her, unsure. "It's OK," she encouraged. "Let's get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning, OK?" Horatio nodded, slowly letting go of her hands. He pushed himself up off the couch, then reached for her.

"Ma'am?" he said, holding his hand out to her.

"Lieutenant," she replied, stealing back tears as she grasped his hand and stood up, facing him. He pulled her close, searching her eyes.

"Come here," he rasped, pulling her into his embrace. "I am so sorry, Calleigh …" he whispered in her ear, holding her tight.

"It's OK," she choked out. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I wish I could believe that," he whispered, still holding her.

"Then believe it," she said, breaking the embrace and pulling him down for a kiss. Surprised, he was tentative at first, but soon returned the kiss fiercely, pulling her even closer. When they finally broke apart, he looked down, a grin creeping onto his face.

"Now there's my LT," Calleigh drawled, flashing him a broad smile.

"Well," he sighed, "we better get some rest. It's almost 3 a.m.," he noted, nodding toward the clock.

"Promise me you won't drop this," she said seriously, in that no-nonsense tone that he had come to admire over the years.

"OK," he sighed. "I surrender. I'm not hiding anymore."

"Smart move, lieutenant," she said playfully. "You know how persuasive I can be if I have to get into interrogation mode."

"Simple, but effective, ma'am," he smirked. "We'll talk later. I promise."

"Good," she said, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

"Keep that up, sweetheart, and we won't get any sleep," he whispered, gesturing toward the bedroom door.

"Just giving you something to look forward to, handsome," she smiled, following him into the bedroom.