Thank you for the reviews, Duckies and Padfoot57(FanFiction)

Thank you for the review, Wolfsong98 (LiveJournal)

***

I'm updating this morning instead of last night because I planned to change the update day to Wednesday and only post once a week. Then I realized that I didn't tell you this. So I am now. This'll be the last Monday update for White Rabbit… possibly ever.

"Mission: Crank This Out Before Tim Burton" has failed. I accept that now.

***

I do not own or claim to own CSI: Miami characters. I do not own or claim to own "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" or anything like that. This is fanmade and I make absolutely no profit off of this. I do this for my own amusement.

***

Chapter Nine: Mind Games

Rick's eyes fluttered open. He was still in the golden bed he fell asleep in earlier. The deep sheer curtain was still drawn, blocking out most of the sunlight that got through the stained glass windows. But he was holding onto a large and soft pillow instead of Horatio.

He sat up and looked through the curtain. His lover apparently wasn't even in the room.

Oh well, Rick thought, he probably had business to attend to. What with whatever's going on tonight.

Rick swung his legs over the side of the bed, his eyes wandering over to the outfit Horatio brought in earlier. He should probably put it on soon, before someone made him do it. Getting up, Rick made his way over to the outfit that was lying on the fainting couch. The fabric was soft and welcoming, but Rick knew that he desperately needed to take a shower or bath or something. The scent of sex still clung onto him, he felt too dirty to get dressed.

He dragged his still tired body into the bathroom.

***

"You look spent".

Rick looked over at his reflection, whose talkative nature was starting to grow on him. But the image was right, he did look tired. His hair was mussed and his eyes half lidded.

"Horatio…" was all he could say, his voice drifting off as he remembered his new lover's warm and sensuous body.

"I can't believe that this actually happened," the reflection gushed as Rick turned on the faucet of the gold tub in the middle of the room.

"Neither can I," the host body smiled, "I never realized before today how much I've wanted him. I mean, before I knew I was attracted to him, but… it's just never been so strong".

"So… what are you going to do when you wake up?"

"When I- …oh".

Rick hadn't thought about the problem with reality for quite a while. This could all still be a dream. Well… if it was, it wouldn't have been the first time he got in bed with Horatio. He never looked too much into it before. It made him a little nervous the first time, but after lying in his bed and evaluating it for several hours he decided not to worry. It was sex, it was a dream, and what could he say? Horatio is gorgeous. There is no harm dreaming about getting in bed with a breathtakingly handsome man… despite how often they disagreed. Rick wasn't about to say that it crossed the line to "disturbing" for him. He decided to just sit back and enjoy those dreams… although it was kind of hard to look at Horatio the day after.

But that's not the important thing, Rick thought as he lowered himself into the tub, more than any other dream I had with him, I want that one to be real. I don't care about the weird rabbit thing anymore. I've never sensed a sort of mutual attraction like that before; like I wasn't just a fling… a one-night-stand. I was just so taken by h-… oh no.

"Oh no," he repeated aloud before submerging himself to wet his hair, "It can't be… I don't want to fall in love again".

"What?"

Rick's reflection climbed up on the sink's counter, perching on the gold rim of the basin. He looked curiously down at his host body, shining with a golden light from the candles scattered around the room.

"You don't seriously want to pass this up, do you Rick?"

The original just shrugged, leaning against the rim of the deep tub. He was neck deep in the water, ducking back down into it to re-moisten his hair. "You said a few minutes ago that this isn't even real".

"I didn't say that. I said that you don't know if it's a dream or not".

"What's the difference?"

"You can never quite be sure if you're dreaming or awake… can you?"

Rick scoffed, "that's stupid".

"No it's not, and you know it. The only problem is that you don't want to talk about it, and I'm trying to figure out why".

"Where is Horatio?" the brunette sighed, looking up at his reflection, "I mean, is he the man I was just with or is he still in Miami? Assuming this is real. Assuming I did vanish out of the Miami library and out of the known universe. Who is he? Who is he really?"

"Rick," the image said gently, slouching forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "He is the man you're falling in love with. As much as you don't want to fall in love… as afraid as you are of heartbreak… you're falling in love with him. Whether you like it or not, it's going to happen… it already has".

"You didn't answer my question. Where is he? Is he here or in Miami?"

The reflection took a moment to wipe some of the steam off of the mirror to respond. "What's the difference?"

"One's real and one's a figment of my imagination! There's a big fucking difference!"

"But you assumed that this was all real!"

"Even so… I still don't know what one I fell in love wi- I mean… crap".

He smiled smugly to himself, "now we're getting somewhere".

"Compared to not knowing who you might fall in love with, not knowing who you did fall in love with is a lot worse!"

"Okay, okay. Calm down. Don't get all flustered or you might make yourself faint".

"Well, do you know?"

"What do you think the answer is?"

Rick paused, "I think I fell in love with him in the life I used to know, but he can only return the sentiment here".

"So what's the problem?"

"They're not the same".

"What's the difference? And don't give me that 'one has tall ears and one is a lieutenant' crap; you know that doesn't matter".

"One is real and the oth-"

"-Damnit, Rick! You're not getting it!"

"What the hell are you trying to tell me?! How do I not know what my own reflection is thinking?"

The image took a second to calm down before looking down at his host body. "Rick… Horatio could be some redheaded lieutenant in Miami, or he can be the white eared man who you mean the world to".

"Red eared… and haired," Rick corrected.

"Really? When did that happen?"

"When I was fucking him".

"Really?"

"Yeah".

"That's weird".

They fell silent for a while. Rick grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the ledge of the tub and continued washing his hair.

"And why can't he be the same person?" the reflection went on, "I mean… if you're opening up the floor to possibilities".

"Not now," Rick sighed, quickly rinsing the suds out of his hair, "I just have to function in this world. Philosophies will just confuse and probably end up hurting me".

"So… you accept that you love him… no matter what form he takes?"

Rick paused for a second. "Yes".

"Good," he nodded, climbing down out of the sink basin, "because he loves you".

***

A few minutes later, Rick was dried off and pulling the outfit on. It was a white suit with hearts, clubs, spades and diamonds running in a ribbon down the seam of each pant leg. The shirt was red with two little white hearts decorating the collar. The tie was white with the symbols strewn like confetti all over it. He heard Horatio come in as he was fastening his red heart cufflinks.

"Rick?"

The younger man turned around and bit his lip to keep from crying out in surprise. The hair that was once a beautiful red had turned back to white… but that wasn't all. His skin was incredibly pale, even for him, and the white clothes he was clad in didn't seem as bright as he remembered them. But the worse thing… by far the worse thing… was that the color had been taken from his blue eyes. The irises were white and grey, just like the rest of him. His pupils looked a little cloudy and the rest of his eyes were bloodshot.

"Horatio!" he gasped, running up to him, "your hair! Your eyes! What happened? You're not blind are you?"

"No," the older man said with a little shake of his head.

"But… what happened?"

"Something they won't let me forget".

Rick blinked, pulling his lover into the room and closing the door behind him. "Who?"

He sighed helplessly. He knew that Rick was concerned and that he just wanted to bring justice. And if he could tell him, he would. But he couldn't, so he stayed silent.

The same curse that stole the color from him also silenced him from ever speaking the name of the person who punished him. If he tried to say it, his jaw would lock shut for a few moments, putting his mouth in incredible pain. If he tried to write it down, his hand would cramp up and ache so terribly that he didn't have the strength to hold the pen, let alone write with it. He tried almost everything, even walking in patterns in mud, spelling out the name that way. But when he tried that, he was only able to spell out his own name.

He had been trying in vain for a long time. Whenever his memory was erased, the feeble attempts were never forgotten. For years, Calleigh had been struggling to get the name out of him. If she knew who was responsible, she could retaliate. She once told him that if she could break the curse, then he would be set free and can join the white queen's court.

That fact… that promise of freedom, was also something he could never forget. The person who did this to him would take the color away each time he chose to remember something for the rest of his life.

The first thing he wished to remember was who changed them all into beats in the first place. The color from his all clothes was taken then. He was brought down into a dungeon, his wrists and ankles shackled to the walls. Every stitch of clothing was burned off of him. The terror he felt was forever scorched in his memory. After several hours, he was thrown back out into the daylight. When he got home, all his clothes were white, he tried to dye them, but the inks always just dripped off.

The second thing took the color from his hair; that was when he begged to remember the promise of freedom Calleigh gave him. He was strapped to a chair as patches hair were yanked from his body, pulling pieces of skin with them. He was released after several agonizing hours, thrown into the cold night air. Horatio dragged his bleeding body back to his home. When he woke up the next morning, his hair had grown back to its proper length, but it was as white as his clothes. He tried to dye this too, but it was never successful. He even bought a few wigs, but they always fell apart as soon as he tried to bring them to his head.

Now here he stood; white hair, white clothes, and white eyes. The last of his color was taken from him just a little while ago. The fresh memories of the acid being poured into his eyes would never grow old. His tears just made things worse, their salt stinging the wounds. After… he wasn't sure how long the pain went on, at least from his eyes. He got more than he usually did this time.

"Don't worry about me, Rick," he assured, "I'll be fine".

Rick examined his lover with a worried eye, he was slouching more than usual. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure".

Another nervous look over and he spoke again, "do you remember what happened the last time you came in this room?"

"Of course I do," Horatio smiled warmly, stepping forward and pulling Rick down into a kiss, "you were wonderful"

"Oh… good- I mean… so were you," Rick said, giving him a faint smile, "is your back alright?"

The white haired man nervously looked away, "it's fine… please, Rick, just forget about it".

"Are you sure?" Rick crooned seductively, "Perhaps I can give you a massage? It should just rub the tension right out of you".

Horatio smiled weakly at that as he was led over to the bed for the second time that day.

"Let me just find some oil from the bathroom, okay?"

"Alright," the older man whispered, bringing his lover into a chaste kiss before they briefly parted.

***

"You sure like coming in here," the reflection commented, leaning over the sink, trying to get as comfortable as he could on the plumbing.

"Something's wrong with him," Rick muttered, as he began digging around for massage oil, "I can tell something's on his mind".

"Who? Horatio?"

"Of course Horatio".

"He's back?"

"Yeah… but he's not telling me what's wrong with him".

"What do you mean?"

"His hair is back to white… and his eyes have followed suit".

"White eyes? Like… irises?"

"Yeah… and his pupils to a degree. He looks blind but he's not. I'm really worried about him".

"Wait, so let me get this straight," the reflection muttered, with a little shake of his head, "He walks in with a dramatic change of appearance, something's obviously bothering him, and he's trying to pretend that everything's alright?"

"Yeah," Rick grunted, digging into the back of the cabinets and pulling out a bottle of lavender baby oil.

"Maybe he's afraid of telling you… that whatever was hurting him would find out and just hurt him some more".

"Possible," Rick shrugged, giving the oil a light whiff, before closing the cabinet door, "I won't make him tell me anything if that. I just need him to know that he can trust me… that he's safe with me".

"You think you can protect him from whatever it is?"

"Sure… on a psychological level… I can't give any promises for any physical protection. I'm not exactly the dragon-slaying type of guy… although… for him I could be".

"You'll protect him tough?"

"As far as I can… I can't imagine a life without him".

***

Horatio rested face down on the pillows again. He had pulled off his suit jacket and folded his arms up under his head. With a soft sigh, he sank into the mattress.

I know what you want, Rick, he thought. But I'm still not going to tell you. I don't want it to hurt you too. I could never let it hurt you.

But… he reluctantly wondered, If all you want is to have that again… we have to be more discreet. I want it too… but I don't think I can endure another-

He turned his head, his train of thought brought to a sudden stop as Rick stepped back in.

"Your shirt's still on," he noted, "do you want me to take it off for you?"

"Oh… you don't need to, Rick," he smiled, "I'm sorry you went out to dig up the oil, but… that's not really necessary".

"Why not?"

Horatio thought for a second, before he whispered in a husky voice, "I don't want you to be too tempted. We don't have enough time for that".

"I do have some self control, Horatio," Rick smirked. "I think I can go ten minutes without fucking you".

Horatio didn't protest when his new lover climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. The younger man's hands lightly danced all over his partner's back before resting on his shoulders. The white haired man groaned as a warm and talented pair of hands gently dug into his shoulder blades. Rick worked the older man's sense body through the soft fabric of his shirt, smiling to himself as he indulged in the soft noises the other man made.

Rick worked his way down, rubbing roughly into Horatio's back. He dug his hands into the other man's mid back and was rewarded with a low moan. He was about to work his way back up to the shoulders, but when he moved his hands he stopped abruptly, his eyes widening and jaw dropping.

The patch of white shirt Rick was rubbing had turned red. He looked at his palms; his hands were red too. The realization hit him at the same time the distinctive smell did. Horatio was bleeding.

"Rick," the white haired man hummed, turning his head on the pillow, "why'd you sto- no don't!"

Going against Horatio's protest, his own curiosity winning out; Rick pulled up the back of the shirt. The pale and freckled skin was covered with long and shallow gashes. Most were clotted and cleaned up, but one must have been reopened with the massage.

"Horatio," Rick whispered, a little short of breath at the sight, "were you… were you whipped?"

The older man squirmed out from under Rick, sitting up and resting his back against the headboard. He looked nervously up at Rick, who sat there with blood lightly coating his hands.

"I-I'm fine," Horatio stammered, "Don't worry abou-"

"-No! I am going to worry about you. This is serious, what happened?"

Horatio opened his mouth, but as soon as he met those big and trusting brown eyes, he couldn't speak. He wanted to share everything with Rick; he could never want any secrets to be between them, tearing them apart. He wanted to share the rest of his life with Rick. He wanted to share his soul with Rick. He wanted them to be so close that there wouldn't even be any room in their hearts left for God. He wanted the infinity Rick's sad eyes promised… but he knew he could never have it, things being as they are.

Rick watched as a tear slid down his lover's cheek. In that single drop he saw more pain and torment than one man should ever have to live with. Leaning forward, he pulled Horatio into his arms, kissing his neck.

"Look, Horatio," he whispered gently, "I have no idea what you're going through… but I know that you shouldn't have to face it alone".

The older man sniffled back a tear as he nuzzled into Rick's shoulder.

"And it's okay to cry," Rick sighed knowingly, "right now I'd be more worried if you didn't need to".

Horatio's eyes drifted shut as he felt a sharp pain slice through him once again. He could literally feel his heart breaking over Rick. Within seconds, a quiet sob turned into a series of pained and helpless cries; tears falling endlessly onto his love's shoulder.