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I do not own or claim to own CSI: Miami characters. This is fanmade and I make absolutely no profit off of this. I do this for my own amusement.

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Chapter Twenty-One: Voices

Stetler's wrists, caked with dried blood, were cuffed above his head. His naked and beaten body rested against the cold post in Paul's basement. His face was wet with tears and his throat and ribs hurt from screaming. He sobbed lightly, Daemon thrusting into his weakened body one last time before he pulled out.

"Mmm," Paul breathed against the back of Rick's neck, "I almost forgot how good that feels".

He tucked himself back into his pants, walking around the post to see Rick's tear streaked face. He brought their lips together, pressing the palm of his hand against Stetler's cheek, ordering the other man to open his mouth. Another tear fell as Rick obeyed, cringing at the sensation of Paul rubbing their tongues together.

"So," Daemon sighed, breaking the kiss, "'Mac', eh'?"

Rick turned away, not wanting to be reminded any more of what Detective Taylor had done to him. He didn't know what Paul was talking about, all he could want at that moment was to be taken out of consciousness.

"Peculiar name, I should be quick to find him," Paul grinned. "And you, I really don't need you talking anymore," he said as he secured the ball gag back to Rick's mouth.

He didn't even struggle as the straps cut into him again. He rested his forehead against the pole, hoping that Paul wouldn't notice if he blacks out just for a few moments.

"Shit, you give up easy," Paul griped, his footfalls fading as he neared the steps, "Whatever, I'll be back in an hour or so".

Rick listened to his abductor ascend the stairs, open and then close the door. There was no point in struggling anymore, every cell in his body ached. He was getting dizzy from only being able to take in shallow breaths. Within minutes of Paul's exit, Rick slowly rolled back his head and slipped out of consciousness.

***

"Miami-Dade Police, open up!" a voice above Rick shouted, pulling him awake.

He looked around, wondering if Paul had come back downstairs; he hadn't. The walls and ceiling made it nearly impossible to distinguish voices, and only shouting ones were completely audible, but Stetler tried to listen nevertheless.

"Kick down the goddamn-"

A hard and slightly metallic thud echoed throughout the house. Footsteps scattered throughout the house, some nearing the basement door. He wanted to cry out and rattle his chains, but Rick could barely move. Every muscle in his body ached and felt so heavy, it was difficult for him to even keep his head up and eyes open.

"Paul Daemon?" a voice from the top of the stairs asked. There was no response, or else Rick just couldn't hear it. "You're under arrest for the abduction of Sgt. Rick Stetler, the murder of Daniel Nowest and Rev. Orville Klugman in Miami, and the murder of seven others in New York".

The sounds of a short scuffle filled the house; someone was thrown against the door a few times. There were more footsteps originating from several other directions, all running towards the basement door.

A crash.

A shout

A gunshot.

Silence.

Rick looked up at the ceiling, finding himself wishing that Horatio wasn't there. If his lover died trying to save him, he would never forgive himself. Horrible visions of looking down upon the redhead in a casket haunted his mind. Rick tried to shake them away, but it was no use; all he could see was Horatio's lifeless body.

And it would be all your fault.

There were more footfalls, several walking in one direction, and one pair walking in the opposite. The basement door was opened, someone was walking down to him. He was too weak to turn his head; he was just going to have to hope that whoever it was spoke soon.

"Oh dear God," he heard Mac's rough voice gasp.

Rick was helpless, he couldn't move as the man who had tormented his mind slowly approached. He felt Mac's calloused hand touch his shoulder and his muscles tensed, wishing he could pull away.

"Rick?" Detective Taylor whispered as he circled the broken man, facing him.

His eyes widened as he saw the gag that muted Rick and what it implied Paul had done to him. He reached out two fingers and lightly pressed them against Rick's neck, feeling for a pulse. The sergeant's eyes fluttered open, looking defeated into Mac's grey irises.

"You're alive?" he gasped, quite surprised. He reached up towards the straps that held the ball in place, "here, let me get that".

Despite the pain he was in, Rick tore his face away from Mac's fingers, cringing afterwards with a tear and a soft whimper.

"Alright," Mac nodded, backing up slowly, "alright, Rick. I'll get Horatio".

He darted out of Rick's line of sight, his footsteps running across the room and up the steps. Rick tried to take a deep breath, but the shooting pain made it very difficult. He couldn't think clearly, his arms were numb. He was completely at the mercy of those who handled him.

"Rick?" Horatio's gentle voice whispered, the only sound in the now silent house. Horatio's footfalls approached, stopping halfway through the room. "Rick?" he said again, this time his voice shaking slightly.

Suddenly, right before him, stood Rick's lover; tears filling his sky blue eyes. Horatio looked over Rick's body, wishing he could just hold him and make everything all better. He reached up and took off the gag.

"Horatio," Rick whispered, almost inaudibly.

The lieutenant knelt down, pulling a key out of his pocket and freed Rick's ankles. He stood up to release the chains holding his lover's wrists, but Rick stopped him.

"Wait," he gasped, "I can't stand. I'll fall if you unlock those".

"I'll catch you".

Horatio slipped his hand behind Rick's neck and gently held him against the pole.

"Does it hurt when I do that?"

"No".

Cautiously, the redhead reached up and unlocked the cuffs. Rick grunted as a sharp pain shot through his body as his arms began to fall. Horatio moved swiftly, taking Rick's arms and gently lowering him to the floor.

"Sit me up," Rick grunted, his side aching as Horatio guided him to the ground.

"Where is it the worst?"

"My side, my right side, right here- ow!" He tried to point to his ribs but could hardly move his arms without feeling a sharp sting, "Fuck!"

Horatio looked sadly down at his lover. Rick was sobbing, he had never been so frustrated in his life. He just wanted to hold and talk to Horatio, but he couldn't even do that. There was nothing that he hated more than looking and feeling helpless, especially in front of someone who means so much to him.

"Shh," the redhead whispered, "I'm here. They've called an ambulance; you're going to be okay".

He stroked Rick's cheek lovingly, cradling him. After quickly checking over his shoulder to see that they were alone, he leaned down and brushed his lips over his lover's.

"I was afraid that I had lost you," Horatio whispered against Rick's skin, "You're everything to me, Rick. I love you; I know I say that a lot, but I always mean it. I love you".

"Horatio, I-" Rick gasped, only to be cut off by Ryan opening the basement door.

"The EMTs are here-" Ryan called down, suddenly seeing Rick's bloodied and beaten body, "oh God".

***

Horatio backed away and watched as the paramedics strapped his lover to the gurney and carried him off. Ryan stood by his boss' side, placing his hand on Horatio's shoulder.

"Poor Stetler. You going to be okay, H?"

"I should be fine," he sighed, "This… this just stressed me out".

"We all have our days," Ryan shrugged, still having no idea of what was really going on in Horatio's mind.

"Listen, can you process this scene? I really just need to lie down".

"Oh, sure H. I understand".

"Did Frank leave already?"

"Yeah, he and Mac left with Paul right after you went to search for Stetler".

"Oh… because I kinda wanted to apologize for-"

"-don't worry. He'll forgive you, I know it".

"Yeah..." Horatio sighed, hoping his colleague was right, "You don't think Mac was too shaken?"

"I bet he gets shot at everyday, I'm sure he's fine".

"I hope so," Horatio sighed, "I'll call Eric down here. Some local cops are here to guard you and keep you company, okay. I have to get going".

"I understand," Ryan nodded, watching Horatio swiftly walk out of the basement.

Snapping on his latex gloves, Ryan looked around. The blood, the chains, the post, the hammer, the gags, the discarded duct tape… the story played out for him. A shiver traveled down his spine, he could never wish this on anyone.

***

Mac walked into Horatio's office, watching the lieutenant slowly arrange his files and pack up. He had never seen Horatio so tired, he looked like he had aged years since that morning.

"Go home, Horatio," Mac smiled, "You need rest".

"Mac," he sighed, "I can't thank you enough. I couldn't think straight… I mean… if it weren't for you then we might have lost him".

"You two are very lucky to have each other", Detective Taylor said, "not everyone can have a relationship like yours". Horatio gave Mac a weak smile. "And… I know that there are things I have done to… to both of you that are just… well… unforgiveable. And… and 'sorry' just isn't enough, I know. But I… I hope that maybe one day the three of us could meet up, just talk sometime. That is, if Rick could ever be comfortable with it".

"I'll bring it up," Horatio nodded.

"Thanks".

The two men looked at each other, acknowledging the strange friendship they still had after all that had happened.

"Well," Mac sighed, "I have to get back to my city. I'm getting a little homesick".

"I'll walk you out," Horatio offered, "I'm going to go check up on Rick in the hospital before I go home".

"You're a good man, Lieutenant," the New York detective smiled, "I hope Rick appreciates how lucky he is".