Happiness for H: Ghosts

March 13 (the evening lengthens)

"I … I … I found it way b…back in the closet," Emily stuttered. She closed her eyes, ready for the tongue-lashing that seemed imminent. When a full minute went by and he had said nothing, she opened one eye and looked at her husband. Horatio hadn't moved, his gaze was fixed on the picture frame in her hands.

"Horatio?" she questioned softly. No reaction. He was a million miles away from her. Emily set the picture down on the bed and walked over to where he stood.

"Horatio, are you ok?" She touched his arm gently. He blinked and slowly his eyes met hers. Emily caught her breath at the haunted look that still lingered in those beautiful eyes. He looked away from her, concentrating on a spot on the floor, swallowing hard, trying to get his emotions under control.

"Emily, I …" Words failed him and he looked at her, his eyes begging her to understand, to keep her questions to herself.

A stab of lightening cut through the room just then, the flash of light illuminating the pain etched in his features.

Emily reached for his hand and he followed her over to the bed.

"Sit down Horatio. You look ready to drop." Surprisingly, he did as she asked, his grip on her hand so tight her wedding band bit into her finger. Stroking his face with her other hand, she reassured him.

"Shh. It's okay. I'm not sure I understand what's wrong, lover, but it will be okay." That lost look was still lingering in his eyes and his gaze slid away once more. Awkwardly because of the grip on her other hand, Emily put her free arm around his shoulders. With a sigh, he leaned into her embrace, his eyes closing as he rested his forehead against her shoulder. She stayed there with him, feeling the tenseness in his shoulders. Bending slightly, she rubbed her cheek against the top of his bright head, a gesture of comfort he had used on her more times than she could count.

Horatio concentrated on the touch of Emily's hands as he tried to squash down the painful memories that had risen to the surface of his consciousness all too quickly. He had no idea what he was going to say to her, how to begin to explain the events that had led up to the deaths of parents and his part in them. He lost track of time as they stayed there, frozen as if in a tableau.

A large rumble of thunder shook the house and startled Emily. He moved away from her, dropping her hand self-consciously.

"I'm all right, Em." His voice was husky with emotion.

She stood in front of him, hands on her hips regarding him thoughtfully in the lamplight.

"You don't look okay, Horatio," she said softly. "Why don't you take some time? I'm going to start dinner. I'm here if you need me." She leaned forward and kissed him gently, then walked to the door. When she glanced back at him, he was staring at the picture he had picked up, his shoulders hunched over. The ever-watchful Ghost regarded his mistress from where he sat near Horatio.

"It's okay, Ghost. Stay with him." She watched as the big dog got up and stood by Horatio, laying his head in his lap, whining softly. When Emily saw Horatio's hand slowly reach down to pat the white head, she slipped from the room.

Horatio lost track of time as he sat there, his hand buried in the dog's soft fur. In his other hand, he held the framed photograph. He couldn't remember how or when it had gotten to the back of his closet. Maybe it was when he had gotten home from Rio and he had buried his brother a second time. The pain had almost been too much – losing Marisol and Ray so soon after. He hadn't known things had deteriorated so much with Raymond. The guilt had eaten away at him – he should have known better and checked in with Ray. He might have saved him. Might have… there seemed to be so very many of those instances in his life. He sighed and rubbed Ghost's large ears.

Emily walked slowly through the darkened house to the kitchen. She could hear the thunder and watched the jagged slashes of lightening cut through the sky as she stood at the counter, sipping the latte that had magically appeared. A smile creased her face at Horatio's thoughtfulness. Humming along with The Boss, she began mixing up the shortcake that would go with the strawberries she had fixed for dessert. Her thoughts returning to her husband, Emily hoped that her grandma's advice not to push him was the right road to take. The mournful notes of the piano signaled the beginning of Thunder Road and she began to sing along as she worked.

Horatio had eventually managed to shake himself of the past and slowly changed from his suit to something more comfortable. Walking into the darkened living room, he followed the comforting sounds of utensils bumping against bowls. The melancholy sounds of a harmonica floated through the house and as he drew nearer the kitchen, he could hear Emily's voice.

"Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays…"

Stopping just outside the kitchen, he watched his wife as she moved her feet and hips in time with the music as she rolled out the dough on the counter.

"You can hide beneath your covers and study your pain, make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain." Emily put the last circle of dough on the baking sheet. She carried it over to the oven and slipped the sheet inside. Feeling she was being watched, she turned to see her husband, just beyond the light of the kitchen.

"Well show a little faith, there's magic in the night. You ain't a beauty but hey you're all right…." She smiled at her husband as she walked toward him, swaying to the soft strains of the piano.

"Whoa, oh, take my hand. We're ridin' out tonight to case the promised land…." She reached for Horatio's hands as she neared him, her eyes never leaving his. Emily squeezed his fingers and stepped closer to him, slipping her hands from his to slide them around his neck. And so they swayed in time to the music, neither saying a word, until the last mournful note died away into the night.

TBC