Disclaimers: All characters from CSI: Miami are property of CBS. I own nothing connected with CBS or with CSI: Miami, I don't know anyone connected with CBS or with the show. I gain nothing from posting these stories save self satisfaction.

Title: Mutual Valor

Pairing: Horatio Caine/OC

Rating: NC 17 I know, 'M' is an accepted rating, but this is just in case you don't know, this is what 'M' means. This is not only for sexual content, but also for violence and references to sexual child abuse well.

Spoilers: There are references to previous episodes through fourth season.

Challenge: For you true experts on all CSI: Miami, the J's I use for story breaks, and the Sorority House, are references to one episode in particular. It will be up to you to figure out which episode and why I used the lines of J's.

Comments: Both negative and positive comments are always appreciated. I learn from the negative and enjoy the positive.

Thank you: Many thanks to my betas, Elena and Tonie. If not for you, this would have been a mess! I am truly grateful for your efforts.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Story: Sometimes the rescuer becomes the rescued.

Chapter 9: Viola has more information, which may lead to her abusers. Manuela has made a promise in order to get what she wants.

Chapter 9:

The first message at the lab was exactly the kind of news he did not want to deal with; A CPS agent had called to say that the little girl in the hospital was remembering more of the car ride that had left her at the bus stop.

He would have to go, but, damn it! This case had him feeling like a bear being held back from his first spring meal. He needed more information, but he hated the idea of making the kid revisit her nightmare, hated that he had to be party to her plight.

Then, the fact that he still had to deal with incoming information on the other cases, all of which needed attention, his analysis and go ahead, which took his focus off of this case, the one case he wished he could work on exclusively, only served to raise his level of frustration. He did not even consider that part of his personal life, last night with Manuela, which he'd automatically locked off the moment the elevator door opened onto the lab floor. This was one of those days when he yearned to find Rick Stetler, take him to the custodial closet, and pound the hell out of him, simply to relieve some tension. There was no reason at the moment to pick on Stetler but that's why it would be so satisfying. Briefly closing his eyes, he let the feeling go and grabbed the rest of his messages.

Moments later, he was checking in on an equally dispirited Ryan Wolfe. Wolfe, he knew, was a man who wanted the action of doing tests and getting answers, wanted to slap a thing into the centrifuge and go on to get results from something else. He also knew that this morning the young man was stuck with going over records, sorting, stacking, finding a time line, copying numbers and names of callers from the phone lists, which, obviously, was not much action. So, recognizing Wolfe's hungers and his own personal experience of the frustration of duty conflicting with desires, Horatio sympathized with him. "Mr. Wolfe? Have you come up with anything, yet?"

Staunchly covering up his aggravation, Ryan reported his findings. "Most of our mummy's bills were paid up to four months ago with his bank's automatic bill pay service. The only ones not paid automatically were due annually, and I guess he intended to take care of them as they arose."

"Thus the Property Tax problem, which would have been due, if Alexx's TOD is correct, as he lay dying. Correct?"

"Yeah, and the bank, under the bill pay directive, just kept shelling out the dough until his account ran out, which took about nine months from his last personal transaction, when he withdrew cash from an ATM. That makes it thirteen months between the cash withdrawal and the time he was found."

"So, he'd been dead several months before he was found." Turning his head sideway, Horatio pulled his gaze up from the floor and inquired, "And the phone records? What about them?"

"The last call was an incoming and at about the same time as his last bank transaction. He made no calls out in the previous three months. In fact, his last call out was to a Help Line, sixteen months ago. I've talked with them and they told me that, according to the record, he said he was a little depressed and wanted to talk, but the person who took the call couldn't get much response out of him, even after an hour. Nothing much was said, blah, blah and there was no mention of suicide and no mention of him feeling threatened. According to their records, that was the only call he'd ever made to them."

"And what about the other incoming calls? Any family members?" After taking a brief look at the stacks of papers on the display table, he turned to lean against it.

Copying his boss' pose, but crossing one leg over the other in counterpoint to the other's wide stance, Ryan answered, "No one with the last name of Watson is recorded." One of his hands strayed to the back of his neck as he swung his head around, trying to rub away the stiffness caused by examining records since yesterday. "I've tried every number on the list so far, and either there's no answer or the numbers have been disconnected or they don't know a Watson, meaning the number has changed owners. I'll keep trying on the ones that didn't answer. I haven't even started looking at the patterns of the utility bills, but that's my next step." Ryan tried not to look discouraged, and sighed.

Pushing off from the table and walking through the door, Horatio nodded over his shoulder and said, "Good work. Keep me posted."

In his office, Horatio found the file of the disastrous kidnapping case on his desk. Just what he did not need! He especially did not need it today! He grabbed the folder and thrust it at the bottom of a pile on the nearby bookcase. Each in its own time, but not today! He dealt with the messages he'd picked up, stuffing most of them into the drawer, and left as quickly as he could.

"Calleigh, anything on the canal case?"

"We have the driver in custody. The first bullet that went through the dead guy's throat hit the other guy in the shoulder as he sat in the driver's seat. Thank goodness," she stopped herself, "well, maybe not for our guy, but good for us, anyway, most ERs are so backed up that our guy was still there yesterday evening, waiting for a prescription, when they got our bulletin. He's being brought over from holding, now. The hospital is sending the bullet to us by separate courier.

"Oh! And more good news; the one bullet Alexx recovered from the body in the car matches a bullet used in a robbery-homicide at a mini-mart more than four years ago as well as the one we recovered from the mini-mart robbery a few days ago. In the four-year-old case, one guy was caught but the other one got away." Calleigh was really on a roll, now, much to Horatio's enjoyment. "Now the interesting thing on that is the other guy wasn't caught, because the quality of the store's security tape was so poor he couldn't be ID'd and, of course, his accomplice wouldn't give him up. There was blood trace at that scene, but nothing to match it to."

Horatio had long ago found he did not have to toss questions to Calleigh to get information out of her; she was not only thoroughly efficient, but seemed to enjoy verbalizing her reports.

"Well, it just so happens that I was talking with Cooper the other day, and he reminded me that today's technology is substantially superior to that of just a couple years ago, that he can now pull images from old tapes and clean them up enough to get ID. So, today, I went to the archives and pulled the tape from that old case so, we might just get a solve on a four-year old cold case." She smiled the Cheshire Cat grin she got when things were going her way.

Leaning against the doorframe, his thumb hooked into his belt, the other hand wrapped around his holster, Horatio relaxed a bit. "You ready to take over the department for me?"

Calleigh blinked her eyes slowly and deliberately. "Not on your life." Then she flashed her good ol' Southern girl grin, knowing her boss had just paid her a huge compliment. "Oh, and Eric is still down in the shop going over the car, looking for any blood trace and anything else he can find." She was putting the cherry on top of the icing on her finely made cake and she knew it.

Heaving himself upright, silently thanking his lucky stars for his team, Horatio checked his watch. "Good job, Calleigh. I'll be out and about for a while. Call me when you've interviewed the gun shot wound."

"Will!" She threw back.

In the Hummer, on the way to the hospital, Horatio made the call he didn't want to make. "Manuela?"

The sound of reluctance in her voice was hard to take; he could hear her trying to think up reasons not to meet him at the hospital. He wanted to say, 'Not to worry, I can handle it.' He wanted to tell her he wouldn't subject her to listening again to the monstrosity this child has been through, to reliving her own personal hell, but he knew he couldn't. Part of her job was to be there and part of his job was to inform her, to keep her in the loop. Breaking contact, he wanted to toss the offensive instrument out the window. 'Damn! Where was Stetler just now?' The phone ended up on the passenger seat.

JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ

JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ

This time, sitting in bed, her face clean and rosy, her wavy hair encircling her face, she looked even younger than her thirteen years. A CPS agent sat with her, apparently having made a connection, with a sheltering arm around her shoulder, and was holding one hand.

As Horatio introduced himself to the temporary guardian, watching the child shrink into the crook of the woman's arm, Manuela arrived. The two women briefly exchanged information before turning to the quietly standing lieutenant. The agent, who only introduced herself as Sally, disengaged from the child's hold, stood and pulled the two aside, speaking quietly and firmly. "I understand the importance of this, but can this be the last time at least for a while? When I told her I'd called you, she cried for half an hour."

He knew he wasn't going to like this. Playing with the earpieces of the sunglasses he held, he dropped his chin, as if to observe the floor. "I'm sorry, but I cannot guarantee that. It's possible we'll be able to apprehend some people and rescue the other children with the information she remembers today, but that's not entirely likely. But let's see what I can learn for now, all right? Later, if we can somehow get her to remember more..." He stopped, knowing he was sounding more like a monster rather than just truthful.

Getting no response from either woman, he turned his attention to the little girl. Pulling a chair up to the bedside, he smiled and quietly said, "Hi, there, remember me? I'm Horatio and I talked to you yesterday."

She looked to be on the verge of tears, her lower lip crinkling, but she nodded slowly. Sally returned to sit beside her, drawing the child close under a sheltering arm.

Manuela moved to the foot of the bed, her hands on the railing for support, ready for the onslaught of her demons. Immediately picking up on Horatio's change of manner, how his voice raised half and octave, softened, became almost plaintive, how his head dropped to one side, how his entire character changed as it had for M'Fuan, she decided to concentrate on that, in hopes of using that bouquet of kindness as a buffer for today's revelations.

"Good," Horatio continued, "I'm glad you remember. You know what? I was very rude yesterday and I forgot to ask you your name. Can you tell me your name?" He knew that getting her to start simply would make the hard parts just a little easier.

"Viola," she said quietly.

"Viola. That," he said with a brief pause, "is a really beautiful name." He hesitated again, choosing his words carefully. "Viola, you know I'm a policeman, right?" At her slow nod, he continued. "Well, did you know that my job is to catch the bad people who have been hurting you? I am going to catch them and take them away and put them someplace where they can never hurt you again."

He waited while her face showed just a slight bit of interest. "Now, the only problem is, I don't know where to find them, so I'm going to need your help." At her obvious dismay, he hurried on. "I was told that you remembered something about the car yesterday, and also have a way of describing the man who drove it. Could you tell me?"

The poor little thing looked up at her protector with a 'do I have to' look. The woman gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead. "You're so good about remembering, my pequeño, and you were so cute. Please, tell him so I can giggle again."

With that irresistible urging Viola shyly said, "I called the man that drove the car 'ol' stinky head'. When he picked me up and carried me to the car, I smelled that his head smelled partly like the icky meat we sometimes have to eat and partly like the stuff they put in our milk, when we've been really good."

Sally giggled appropriately and then added quietly, "I think she means vanilla and perhaps lard that has gone bad."

Considering what Viola had said, Horatio asked, "Was this 'old stinky head' a very old man?" He knew that some very traditional, elderly Hispanics still used lard as pomade for the hair and neglected to throw it out when it went bad, preferring to get as much use from every bit as possible. He also knew these same men sometimes used vanilla as after-shave.

Nodding gravely, she answered, "Older even than the ones I have to visit all the time."

"Was he a bad man, Viola? Was he one that hurt you?"

She slowly shook her head, "No, he was nice."

Horatio and Sally exchanged glances in silent agreement. "Okay, good. That tells me a lot, Viola. And now, what about the car? What did you remember about the car? Yesterday, you said it was black and had a soft fur blanket in the back seat. I thought that was really something, remembering like that."

"I remember there was a thingy, on the back of the car, that had a man on a bucking horse. I liked it."

"The license plate, you mean?"

She shied back as if afraid. "I don't know what you mean."

Horatio smiled gently, "That's the thingy on the back. Did you see any writing on it? Any numbers?"

She relaxed a little but rolling eyes and shrugging shoulders was her only answer.

Looking briefly at Sally he had to say, "Well, maybe you'll remember later. But, wow, remembering a man on a bucking horse, that's terrific, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh. And there was a lion too. Standing up and going –," she made clawing motions with both her hands and twisted her face in imitation of an animal roar.

Horatio smiled broadly, rare for him. "That was above the lic—, the thingy with the bucking horse, right? Sort of in a box, I bet. The lion, was it about this big?" First, he formed a shape with both hands about two inches square before making a smaller square, "Or was it this big, do you think?"

Viola was calmer now and shrugged again. "I dunno."

"You know what, sweetheart? Now I have to ask you a really hard question. The man you were visiting, can you remember anything about his face that was..." He paused trying to think of the right word. "Nice?"

Viola's face quieted to a sad, distant gaze.

This was so hard. "Try not to think about what—what he did to you. Try to think about only what you saw the first second, that first time he came into the room." He wanted to be specific, to ask if he had any scars or if his eyebrows were thick like his own, or noticeably thin, but he knew that there was always the possibility of leading her so he could only hope. "Just that first second you saw him, do you remember what you thought?"

That was the wrong thing to say, and Viola's face began to crumple up. Horatio put a hand on the bed but did not touch her. "You are so brave, my dear, so brave. Just take your time. That first second." he confided quietly, "try to remember." Then he sat back and waited.

After what seemed like the entire day, Viola's face opened up, her eyes growing large. "He had big ears." And with that, she shrank back under Sally's arm, hiding her face against the woman's body. She was done.

Manuela's voice, quietly explicit, sounded from the foot of the bed, "Horatio, we're finished."

Turning just enough to acknowledge that he heard, he came back to the child and, leaned forward, whispering, so only she could hear. Getting only the slightest nod in response, he rose from the bedside, thanked Sally, and left with Manuela.

On the short walk to the elevator, Manuela said, "As her lawyer, I have to know what you said to her."

Not speaking until they were alone, headed down. "I told her I was leaving to get the bad guys now and was going to find her friends and save them. Then I asked if she heard me."

Making that promise just now had felt so damned good, especially since, with the information she had provided, he was fairly certain he could carry through on it.

Taking in the information and swallowing dryly, Manuela looked up to his boyishly pleased face. "Do me a favor? When you are ready to go to the house, when you find it, call me. I want to be there as you go in."

"I'm afraid I can't..."

She interrupted him. "I need to be there!"

"I can't let you be there, Manuela."

"Please, Horatio. I need to be there!"

"It will be dangerous, even for trained people..."

Again, she interrupted him. "Tonight Horatio, whatever time you get home, call me. I need to tell you the rest of the story, about what happened to me. I'm pretty sure it will change your mind about my going to that house." The words came tumbling out of her, and then slowed. "You need to know why those children will need someone like me, there."

JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ

JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ

As soon as he prowled out of the elevator at the lab, everyone could tell that Lieutenant Caine was on a mission. He had that way of moving, like a Florida panther on the hunt, walking with a deliberate, loose-shouldered swing that was all business. Even his eyes had that same feline glow, as if lit from inside. Those who knew him knew it was unwise to stop him in this phase, not even to announce to him that the world was ending.

"Mr. Wolfe, I know you're busy with a couple of other cases, but I need you to get on something else, right away. I want you to see if there is any way to find a black Peugeot, four-door sedan with Wyoming license plates here in Miami. I'm guessing it's a rather new model, but check back as far as you can, anyway. Whatever you find, then check license photos, look for a man with large ears. I suggest you first do a search first in the state of Wyoming and then see if there is anyone who may have recently moved here or perhaps vacations here. I also want you to see if there is any way you can track down an elderly man who ordinarily works as a chauffeur. I know this is very little information, but it's vital that we find either the chauffeur or the owner of the Peugeot. As soon as you have something, find me!"

Before Ryan could even acknowledge the assignment just shot-gunned at him from the door, his boss was gone. He sat for a moment, replaying what he had just heard in his head so he wouldn't forget, absorbing and changing gears. Here he had been waiting to tell Horatio what he had found on the mummy case—'oh well'.

Horatio found Calleigh in her section of the lab, a couple of machines whirring in the background as she peered through a microscope. "Calleigh, what's the good word?"

She grinned at him, raising her eyes up to the ceiling and then down in her typical 'ordering of information' look. "Well," only people born and raised in the Deep South can drawl out a single word as she did. "First of all, Delko did not find any usable trace from the car. Between the water and the sludge, nothing was left. He says he went over it twice." She shrugged.

"But the driver, Victor Ayala, was brought in," she said as her smile broadened. "And we were able to convince him of the wisdom of giving up his attacker, or well, we urged him, but he was more than ready. Apparently the through-and-through hitting this guy was an accident and ordinarily, as you know, these gang members usually just sort of take that kind of thing in stride, but the problem was, our dead guy had AIDS, which Alexx has confirmed; not just HIV-positive, full blown AIDS. If he hadn't had AIDS, all would have been cool but as it is, our guy really resents the carelessness."

"Did he say why he and his companion were targeted by his own gang members?"

"Oh, the vic, a Cristobal Dejenez, hadn't followed orders on the job they'd pulled, or some such. So the gang leader met them at the canal to issue a reprimand. It was a macho-boss-gang thing, I guess." She shrugged again.

Horatio nodded, "Well, however we can get them, I'll take it."

"It seems the shooter may even be a tie-in to that case the bullet connection pulled up. This guy is now a local leader in the 14th Street Boyz, according to our witness, who just returned to Miami after a stay of nearly four years in Los Angeles."

"You think he might be the other one the guy wouldn't give up four years ago?"

"Well, we have that blood trace from the scene, so we'll get a DNA sample as soon as we get this guy in and compare it. Who knows, maybe Dan will have something from that tape." She smiled confidently.

"I have no doubt you'll find him, Calleigh. Good work. Call me when you have his location?"

"You got it!"

"Oh, um, be ready to be called out on special detail at any moment. We're on to something and will probably need the entire department soon."

"What's it about?"

"Just be ready, all right?"

"Sure."

Horatio went over to the DNA lab. "Valera, did you get the swab for DNA test from the hospital yesterday for Viola?"

"Yeah. Do we have anything to match it to? I didn't come up with anything in CODIS."

"Not yet, but hang on to it. I'm going to be working on getting a sample for a match. Thanks."

Maxine eyes widened just slightly as she was about to answer, but he had already wheeled about and left before she could get anything out. "O-o-o-kay, then, I'll hang on to it," she muttered to herself.

At a slightly slower pace, he checked in with Sam Delmontes, Cooper, and finally, in the mid-afternoon, Delko, who was finishing cleaning up after having crawled around the canal car for most of the day.

"You heard? I came up with nothing. I'm sorry, H."

"Yes, Calleigh told me. Not to worry. It happens, sometimes."

"Yeah, well, I'll keep looking. I just looked for trace in the front, nowhere else. Next, I'll go over the rest of it for whatever can be found. Right now, though, I'm out of here. I've got some personal business to attend to and then a date, tonight."

"I'll walk out with you. I'm going to head home, too."

"What—you? So soon? You got a date too, H?"

Horatio stroked the skin beneath his lower lip as his tongue played at the inside. "Uh, well, sort of."

A broad smile played at Eric's expressive lips. "Good going! You deserve some relaxation."

The two walked down the hallway in silence until they parted for their cars in the garage, and Delko waved over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow!"