Checking the coordinates on his phone a second time, he pulled up on to the side of the road and glanced ahead, not sure that he had the right place.

"Come alone," the caller had told him.

He knew that it went against protocol to meet an unknown source alone. This wasn't police business though. This was personal and if it helped to clear Ray's name, he would willingly take the risk.

He saw movement from the other side of the road. His eyes took in the heavyset stranger standing with his hands in his pockets. There was no gun he could see, unless the man was hiding it tucked into his pants at the small of his back.

Pulling the keys from the vehicle, he got out and stood by the driver's door. "I'm here, as requested."

The man glanced briefly to both the left and right before making his way toward the vehicle.

"You came alone?" the stranger asked, looking down at the gun and badge of the man before him.

"I did."

The stranger looked around again. "You wouldn't be lying to me, would you? I don't tend to trust too easily...especially cops."

"I'm a man of my word," he replied. "Are you?"

The stranger looked him up and down, as if sizing him up as a potential threat. "You're the dirty cop's brother?"

He struggled to keep his tone neutral. "You know I am. I agreed to meet because you said you could help."

"You know he was in deep...real deep. Someone sold him out then...bang. The man's dead. Word on the street was that he was tweaking right up until the day he got popped. Rumour has it he switched sides...maybe one of your own did for him?" The stranger looked him up and down again. "People who stick their nose where it doesn't belong are liable to get it broken, if you know what I mean..."

He was growing tired of this. The man hadn't told him anything he didn't know or suspect already.

"Where is this going? You said you had information about Ray."

The stranger smiled at him. "I can do better than that. I have a message."

He felt someone land a punch to his kidneys. The unexpected blow dropped him to his knees as he gasped for breath. He felt the stranger's hand grip his chin roughly, the man sneering in his face.

"What's the message?" he managed to gasp.

The force of the backhand across his face caused his ears to ring.

"Stop looking."

He tried reaching for his gun as more assailants crowded in. The blows came one after another, keeping him on his knees as he threw punches wildly at his attackers, feeling at least a few of them make contact with their intended target. If he was going down, he was going to take as many of them with him as he could.

Another blow from behind drove him to his hands and knees. He made a desperate attempt to grab his gun...his phone...anything that might save his life. A boot stamped down on his left hand and he cried out in pain, further reducing his defences until he could no longer put up a fight.

He felt himself hauled up and thrown back against his vehicle, waiting for the death blow that he knew was coming.

This was it. He was going to die on some godforsaken road in the middle of nowhere.

He could barely see as the blood streamed down his face. His body refusing to hold him upright any longer. He could feel his legs shaking as he tried vainly to stay conscious. He braced himself for more punishment.

He felt himself being pinned against the side of the Hummer, vaguely realising that the beating had stopped.

He looked directly into the eyes of the man holding him against the side of the vehicle, instantly recognising the man he thought he knew so well.

"Raymond," he croaked. "Why?"

They were brothers. That mattered, didn't it?

"You have to pay."

"I'm sorry."

The man holding him huffed before punching him viciously in the solar plexus.

"You will be."

Horatio woke up with a gasp, feeling the sweat pouring from his body.

He glanced at Calleigh, relieved to find that she was still asleep. At least he hadn't woken her.

Quietly removing himself from the bed, he pulled on a pair of jogging pants and made his way through the lounge and on to the back porch.

It had been where Calleigh had found him hours later - leaning over the railing, watching the ocean in the dark.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked as she approached him, she herself standing only in the shirt he had worn yesterday.

"You're freezing," she said, alarmed at how cold to the touch he was.

Her touch seemed to reach him slowly as he turned to look at her, his eyes clouded and dazed.

"Calleigh - "

"How long have you been out here?" she asked, concerned for his welfare.

He shook his head as if trying to clear it. "I'm not sure."

She guided him back into the lounge and pushed him gently toward the couch.

"What happened?" she asked, "One minute you were in bed next to me. Then I wake up and you're gone."

He rubbed a hand over his face. "I, uh…I had a dream."

She could tell from the state of him that it wasn't a pleasant one.

"You wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head as a shiver went through him, whether from the cold or the memory of his dream, he couldn't tell. "I'm sorry I woke you."

She wasn't going to accept his self-sacrificing tonight. Both of them were too tired to play games with each other.

"Oh no you don't mister," she gently admonished him. "We're going back to bed and then you're gonna tell me what this is all about in the morning."

He looked at her and smiled, feeling safe when he was with her. "Yes, ma'am."

She threw a t-shirt his way as he entered the bedroom. He gave her a questioning look as she wrapped her arms around him. "You're still freezing," she responded, picking up on his confusion. "I'm not spending the rest of the night cuddling up to a block of ice."

Still slightly disorientated, he followed her to the bed.


The past few weeks had been so busy that Raymond Caine had almost forgot about his involvement in Horatio's attack.

Almost, but not quite.

The Mala Noche had kept him occupied and had been testing him - seeing how far they could push him and the lengths he would be willing to go to. If these Hispanic idiots wanted to play games, he was up for the challenge.

He pulled his gun from the waistband of his trousers and set about taking it apart. He was as fastidious about cleaning his weapon as his brother, even more so now that he was so deeply undercover that he was all but on his own. He needed to know that he could rely on the weapon in his hand.

"You're not tweaking, are you?"

Ray scowled as he heard the familiar voice of the man who had gotten him into this mess in the first place. He had wanted to kill him as soon as he'd realised who the man really was, yet the two of them were so closely tied together in this that they would need each other to get out of this with their lives intact.

He sighed deeply, refusing to look away from his task. "What do you want?"

"I thought you'd want to know that the Lieutenant and his team are causing us issues again. There's been another DNA search request. They didn't find anything, obviously."

"What's that got to do with me?"

He could hear the man walk closer to him, feel the breath on the back of his neck.

"Your brother could make all of this blow up in our faces."

Ray shrugged his shoulders. "What are you so worried about? You said they didn't find anything."

"Caine is relentless. He's not going to stop until he gets to the truth. That would be a very bad thing…for all of us."

He turned to look at the man, picking up on the unspoken threat.

"No way. You're not laying a finger on him!"

The man threw him a smug grin.

"You didn't have so much of an issue with it last time."

Those words had hit home. He was just as guilty as the rest of them for what had happened to Horatio. Perhaps he had been naive to think that they would throw a couple of punches at him and leave it at that. The group of them had set on him and beat him senseless. They had almost killed him.

"If you touch him, I'll kill you," Ray threatened.

The man laughed. "It's that easy, is it?"

"He's my family. I'll kill you all if I have to."

"You think he'd do the same for you?" The man shot back, "You think he'd trust you if he found out what you did - that you were a part of this all along?"

The insinuation made Ray's blood turn cold. He had only ever thrown a punch at his brother once. It had taken weeks for Horatio to speak to him again afterwards. It was inevitable that Horatio would turn his back on him if he ever found out about his part in the attack.

"Are you threatening me?"

The man smirked. Ray wanted to smack the shit-eating grin right off his face.

"I don't need to."

"What do you mean?"

"I threw your brother a little bone… Something to keep him occupied for a while. If he's half the cop you say he is, he'll figure out the connection sooner or later."

Ray's gaze dropped to the gun pieces in his hands. Things were spiralling out of his control way too fast.

"You need to decide which side you're on, Caine."

"Haven't I made that clear already?"

"You might need to prove it. Sooner rather than later."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The man began to walk away and called over his shoulder. "If it comes down to it, whose hide are you going to save - your brother's or your own?"


Calleigh frowned as she rolled over to reach out for Horatio only to find his side of the bed empty once more. The mattress was cold, meaning that Horatio hadn't been in the bed for at least an hour.

Throwing off the covers, she was about to track him down and lecture him on not waking her when her eye caught a note on the bedside table.

Calleigh,

Couldn't sleep so I've gone for a run. There's coffee in the kitchen.

I'll be back soon.

Horatio

Most of his injuries sustained in the attack had healed, but it didn't stop Calleigh from worrying about his safety or his state of mind for that matter.

He'd looked dazed and confused when she found him on the back porch last night, wearing nothing but a pair of jogging bottoms. He hadn't even sensed her presence until she laid a gentle hand on his arm.

He'd been evasive about his dream last night and both of them had been too tired to push things any further. No doubt Horatio's run this morning had been another way for him to avoid the conversation. She knew she would have as much chance of getting Horatio to open up about it as she would trying to baptise a cat.

He'd warned her that he could be hard work and she had no doubt that would be the case when she finally cornered him and pushed him into talking about last night.


He'd managed to grab a few moments of rest after returning to bed with Calleigh, but it hadn't been anywhere near what he would consider a restful sleep.

He'd been reliving the night of the attack since it had happened and each time the dream had shifted slightly. Last night had been the first time that he'd ever seen Raymond in his dream though.

He wasn't one to put much stock into the images thrown up by a person's subconscious, yet it had shaken him deeply to find Ray seeping into his memories of that night. Dreams were abstract creations painted by an overworked mind, it made sense that his brother would feature heavily in them after everything that had happened. Everything pointed back to Raymond in one way or another.

Calleigh had still been deeply asleep when he finally gave up trying to sleep at 5am. Pulling on fresh jogging bottoms and a t-shirt, he'd quietly made a pot of coffee and written a quick note incase she woke and found him gone.

Calleigh,

Couldn't sleep so I've gone for a run. There's coffee in the kitchen.

I'll be back soon.

Horatio

He'd started his run slowly, knowing that it would be foolish to push himself after being laid up for weeks. His ribs protested at the movement at first, but he ignored the discomfort and set off along the beach.

Running had always been a way for him to clear his mind of work and help him work through his thoughts and feelings. Running so early in the morning meant that the beach was relatively quiet and he could be left to his own devices to think things through.

He had no idea how long he'd been running for, but his body began signalling that it was time for him to stop. He ignored it and kept going, as if running would help him make sense of the whole situation with Raymond.

Images of his younger brother and the many times they had argued filled his mind and compelled him to run faster, to push himself harder. Was he looking to punish himself for the feelings of failure he felt?

He could, he should have, done more to keep Ray from getting himself mixed up in the Narcotics game. He had promised their mother that he would keep him safe. He had failed and he hated himself for it.

His eyes were streaming as his lungs cried out for oxygen, but he pushed himself further still. He pushed himself until his legs gave out and he landed on his hands and knees in the sand, vomiting violently.

If only he could purge the complex feelings swirling around in his mind so easily.


Calleigh walked into the hallway at the sound of the front door opening. She gave Horatio an apprising look as she took in his sweaty form.

"Good run?" she asked, taking a sip of coffee before setting it down on the sideboard and walking toward him.

Horatio took a small step back and gave her a pained smile, seeing the look of hurt on her face.

"I'm sweaty. Let me get a shower first, ok?"

She bit down on an acerbic response, knowing that it was Horatio's way of further avoiding a conversation about last night.

She nodded her head and watched him walk toward the bathroom.

Hearing the shower being switched on, Calleigh busied herself making them both breakfast, determined that she would get him to open up and talk about what had bothered him so deeply in his dream last night.

Ten minutes later and dressed in his smart blue suit and a white shirt, Horatio let out a frustrated breath.

"You looking for these?" Calleigh asked, a set of car keys dangling from her hand.

His car keys.

He reached out to take them from her only to see Calleigh snatch them away.

"Calleigh," he said, trying to keep his temper in check. "I don't have time for this. I'm going to be late."

She tucked the keys into her pants pocket. "You're the boss. You're allowed to be late once in a while. Besides," she said, glancing at her watch, "the shift doesn't start for another hour anyway."

"There are things I need to do," he said, as if that would explain everything.

Calleigh shook her head. "Not until you sit down, have something to eat, and talk to me."

Their eyes locked together, neither willing to back down.

Reluctantly, Horatio let out a deep sigh and sank into a chair at the kitchen table. The look he gave her clearly communicating that he wasn't happy with her.

Was he sulking?

She placed two slices of toast and a cup of coffee in front of him and stared at him until his eyes dropped to the plate and he began eating.

He had already told her that he could be stubborn and obstinate when he wanted to be. He could glare at her, sulk, or throw his toys out of the pram, but she would not be cowed by his outwardly grumpy and hostile demeanour when someone pushed him too far.

He had spent far too much of his life pushing people away, telling them that it was for their sake and not his own. He would much prefer to lick his wounds in silence and blame himself for things that inevitably were out of his control.

Not this time, she thought.

He gulped down the last of his coffee and made to stand.

"We're not done yet." Her words were firm, she would brook no arguments from him.

"Calleigh - "

"We need to talk about last night."

Horatio screwed his eyes shut briefly. "What about it?"

"I found you outside half-frozen to death. You looked like you'd seen a ghost."

She saw him flinch momentarily at her comments.

"It was just a dream."

"It must have been some dream," she countered. "What happened?"

He suddenly felt cornered, as if he were being pushed to talk about things he'd rather leave buried. His coping mechanism had always been to bury things so deeply that he didn't have to think about them. The deeper they were buried, the less effect they would have on him.

Or so he thought.

"It was nothing."

"Quit running from me, Horatio!"

The vehemence in her voice took him by surprise. It had been perhaps the first time that he'd ever heard her shout, let alone lose her temper.

She took a couple of deep breaths, trying to control her anger.

"We're going to sit here until you tell me what's wrong."

He said nothing for a number of moments.

"I don't think that's an appropriate way to speak to your superior," he responded childishly, not willing to look at her.

"You don't get to pull rank on me. We're not at work."

He had the good grace to look ashamed. "You're right. I'm sorry." He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh. "I'm not good at these type of things."

"Then just start at the beginning."

He nodded and took a couple of breaths before he began.

"It's always the same. I get out of the Hummer to meet with the guy."

"The one that set you up?"

Horatio nodded.

"I realise pretty soon that it's a trap. They all start piling in… I try to fight back but there's too many of them. I can feel every punch…every kick." He looked at her briefly before continuing. "After a while they stop hitting me…I feel myself being hauled up against the Hummer and…. I wait for the final blow…the one that kills me."

"How many times?"

He looked at her, confused.

"The dream," she clarified. "How many times?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Most nights since it happened."

She'd spent several nights with him and the dream hadn't seemed to bother him this much before.

Something else had happened last night.

Something different.

"What happened last night?"

He closed his eyes and let his head drop.

"It started the same, I'm waiting for the final blow but this time I can see who it is. I could never see them clearly before. My vision is hazy, but I can see clearly who's holding me up…who's going to be the one that kills me."

"Who was it?"

He didn't answer her. He was refusing to look at her.

"Horatio, who was it?"

He looked at her then and she had never seen his blue eyes look so sad.

"It was Raymond."