It was a question that he'd hoped Jeff wouldn't ask him. He was more than a little confused at the moment, for months he'd not had the ability or energy to even consider that part of his human instincts as he fought to regain physical strength and emotional stability with Calleigh by his side.
Their physical union two nights ago had ignited feelings in him that he had denied himself for so long. Marisol's untimely death had caused him to pull away from any kind of meaningful relationship for fear of losing yet another loved one. For years he had isolated himself away from the loving touch of a woman, convincing himself that it was his penance for his wife's death, believing that it had been God's way of showing him that it was safer all round that he remained alone, living a life of solitude.
It was only when he'd been shot and was lying on the cold and wet pier that he was finally reunited with his beloved wife for the first time since her murder. She had told him that it was not yet his time and that there was more for him to do, she told him to be happy and move on in his life without her.
At first he had put it down to a hysterical hallucination as his body fought against the symptoms of shock as blood loss and a near-fatal dip in the ocean hampered the oxygen supply to his brain. Even as he lay in a hospital bed recovering after single-handedly capturing Jack Toller, he could not shake the feeling that something had changed deep within him.
Calleigh would visit him on a daily basis until he was released from the hospital with strict instructions to take it easy for at least a month to give his body time to rest and recover. He'd refused to listen to them, as usual, and was back at the Lab the next week, limping and wincing at every turn, but emphatically back in the place where he belonged.
He got the impression that Calleigh was hovering around him, afraid that he would collapse and fall to the ground at any moment. He'd tried to gently persuade her to leave him be, yet she refused to listen as she infected his brooding moods with her perkiness. It was such a gradual process that neither of them had truly understood what was happening between them as they began meeting in the break room for coffee or outside in the park for lunch.
It had been such a very long time since he'd let himself get this close to anyone, as their friendly banter slowly turned into flirting and meaningful looks across the Lab and interview room. The voices in his mind had screamed at him to pull away, but he couldn't deny the fact that he had become deeply attracted to his ballistics expert.
In hindsight, the attraction had always been there since the first time they had met in New Orleans, the way that they smiled at each other or shared in some little private joke. The first few years in Miami were often filled with playful banter and light teasing, as the years rolled by he found himself increasingly isolated from those around him as he purposefully kept himself to the shadows, protecting himself from the inevitable heartache that would follow.
They hadn't so much as shared a kiss before his world had imploded around him, the very day that he collapsed in his office he and Calleigh had been at each other's throats as he refused to divulge the truth about Agent Collins and his visit to the Lab. The last real memory he had of that day was Calleigh shouting at him to pull his head out of his ass, the rest of it was nothing more than a jumbled blur of sights, smells and sounds.
He'd woken days later only to find that he had no recollections of the last eighteen years, he'd been confused and angry at anyone who dared visit him during that time, forced to confront the uncomfortable truth about his past as it all came spilling out uncontrollably. He remembered that Calleigh had been the one constant throughout that time, refusing to leave his side.
She had also been the first person he remembered seeing after waking up after his dramatic rescue at sea. She had stayed by his side every day as he tried to push her and his other loved ones away, struggling to come to terms with what had happened to him. She'd seen him at his very worst, yet still loved him despite it.
He'd tried to fight it for so long until he couldn't deny himself any longer. His love for her was obvious in the intimate moments they had shared, but it had also unwittingly unleashed a torrent of pent-up emotions in him. Love had always been such an erratic concept to him, never staying too long in his life. He knew the depths of the feelings that he had for Calleigh but Lori's unexpected appearance at his house had unearthed a multitude of feelings that he had kept so well hidden until now.
"You're confused about your feelings aren't you?"
Jeff's voice served to bring him out of his musings and back to the present. "I love Calleigh….I love her deeply…"
"Yet there's still unfinished business with your ex-wife. I think you need to sit down and talk with Laura, finally set those demons to rest once and for all."
"You make it sound so easy," Horatio replied as he shot Jeff a sour look.
"I never said it would be easy, my friend. Laura was obviously a huge part of your life as John, I think that maybe talking things through with her and coming to some sort of understanding is the key to you being able to dump a lot of this emotional baggage and get on with your life."
He sat and stared at the doctor for a number of moments before replying. "Perhaps you're right."
"Hey, I'm always right. I'm a doctor, remember?" Jeff teased as he closed the file in front of him. "That'll do it for today, I'm sure I've given you plenty to think about."
"Indeed."
"I'll see you on Monday, same time, ok?"
"Agreed."
He sat in his comfy leather chair as he watched the Lieutenant rise to leave the room. "Do me a favour, Horatio," he called out as the man walked towards the door. "Meet with Laura but don't hide it from Calleigh, you've got to be honest with her…..she deserves that much."
Horatio's only response was a slight nod of the head as he made his way back out into the world outside.
"Hey, Cal, you got a second?" Eric asked as he popped his head around Horatio's office door, frowning as he saw the troubled look on his former lover's face. "Something up?" he asked as he walked in and shut the door behind him.
"No, it's fine, Eric. Just got a lot of things on my mind, it's not been an easy day."
"Your meeting with the Chief?" he asked as he leant back in the chair he'd lowered himself into.
"How did you know about that?"
"It's Department gossip, you and H were seen with the Chief's aide this morning. Where is he by the way?"
"He's not here at the moment," she replied evasively as she refused to look at him, a clear sign to the Cuban that she was holding something back.
"What aren't you telling me?" he asked as he could feel his temper rising, panic and fear for Horatio flooding through his brain. "He's family, Cal. I have a right to know if something's wrong."
"Please, Eric. If you care about either of us then you'll let this drop, he doesn't need this right now."
"I have a right to know," he repeated indignantly as his voice rose.
"No you don't!" she shot back quickly, "You've got to stop treating him like he owes you something."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he shot back as his nostrils flared.
"Ever since…" she began before pulling back quickly, not wanting to put into words what she had felt for years.
"Ever since what, Calleigh? Say it!"
"Fine, ever since Marisol died you've been acting like you have some kind of hold over him. You rub it in Ryan's face every chance you get that you're closer to Horatio than he is, you've never let Horatio forget the fact that Marisol died because of him."
"I've never said that!"
"But you've never told him that it wasn't his fault either. Don't you think he has enough to feel guilty about already?"
Flashback. Miami 3 weeks ago:
He'd chosen to hide himself away most of yesterday after her unexpected outburst of anger at him in the car. He'd turned tail and shut himself away in the bedroom for the majority of the afternoon feigning tiredness from his session with the physiotherapist as he sought to avoid her at every opportunity.
Stupid male pride! She thought as she shuffled around in the kitchen preparing a dinner that Horatio would likely tell her he wasn't hungry enough to eat. There had been little in the way of noise emanating from the bedroom and so she chose to believe that perhaps he was actually getting a little sleep and the rest that his body so desperately needed.
The nightmares still haunted him on an almost daily basis; she would be the one constant throughout those long nights as she held him close as she shook him from one horrific dream after another. The time had long since passed for soothing words, instead she chose to pull him close and embrace him until he fell back asleep, never letting him go until the next morning.
It had become their routine for so long now that it no longer seemed strange that they were sharing a bed each night. Both needing the close contact of the other but for very different reasons. She needed to reassure herself that he was still there after the traumatic few days that he had gone missing and he needed her to help keep the demons at bay as they came for him night after night.
When had their mutually beneficial sleeping arrangement turned into something more?
There had been hints of promise in the weeks leading up to Horatio's head injury and subsequent loss of memory and abduction. All of that fell by the wayside as both of their thoughts were consumed by his lengthy recovery from the vicious wounds inflicted on him by his captors both physical and emotional.
She'd tried keeping her temper in check, but Horatio was nothing if not exasperatingly stubborn at times as he continued to try to push people away. She'd had all she could take of his sulking and pitying behaviour until she finally snapped at him. Both had been surprised at the outburst but it spurred her on to be bolder with him, refusing to let him hide away any longer.
She'd kissed him, more than that; she'd almost jumped his bones right then and there in the car, not caring who might have seen them. And he'd responded in kind, a willing participant in her amorous actions until something made him pull away suddenly. What was it that was holding him back?
He'd bolted from the vehicle before she'd had a chance to ask him and had avoided her ever since, refusing to engage in conversation with her.
Enough is enough. I'm done letting you hide.
She made her way up to the bedroom, not bothering to knock when she found the door closed. It was only when she entered the room that she silently wished that she had knocked, maybe it would have woken him from the distressing dream he appeared to be having.
Ten year old John Kelly limped home slowly as he looked down sullenly at his torn t-shirt and dirt-covered pants, his eye throbbing and his lip still stinging from the hits he'd taken earlier in the day.
He knew he'd be hopelessly outnumbered but there was no way that he would let anyone talk trash about his father. The boys in the schoolyard had been teasing him about his father's death, taking delight in seeing the skinny red-headed boy get increasingly upset at their cruel taunts. He'd had just about as much as he could take of it, with fists clenched he walked up to the tallest of the boys, all of which were at least two or three years older than him, tapping him on the shoulder before punching him straight in the mouth.
"Shut up about my father," he screamed as he stood over the other boy.
All it took was one nod of the head from the bully, the other boys were on him in an instant as they decided to teach the young upstart a lesson in manners and respect for his elders.
It must have been only a few minutes later when a teacher broke the fight up as he was left panting and gasping for breath as he held on to his tender stomach. He felt himself being dragged away by the collar and hauled before the headmaster knowing that his mother would find out and be disappointed in him.
Her reaction as he walked through the front door made him feel worse as she burst into tears at the very sight of him, pulling him close and hugging him tightly.
"Oh, Johnny. You silly, silly boy. What have you done?" she sobbed as she gripped onto him.
"They were talking trash about Pops. I wasn't going to let them get away with that," he replied, even though his voice was muffled by his face's close proximity to her shoulder.
He'd sat quietly as she tended to his wounds, feeling guiltier by the minute as she continued to wipe away the blood and dirt as tears coursed down her ageing face. It was hours later when his father's former partner knocked on his bedroom door and entered, sitting down next to him on his bed.
"We need to have a little chat, Johnny. Man to man."
"Ok," he replied nervously.
"What happened today…..it can't happen again."
"Why not? Those boys were talking crap about my father!"
His cheeks flushed with shame as Officer Scott arched an eyebrow at him, conveying his displeasure at his smart mouth. "Sorry, sir," he muttered as he lowered his head.
"You gotta be the man of the house now, Johnny. Your mother needs you; you can't go around getting yourself into fights anymore. You understand?"
"Yes, sir," he replied quietly as he picked at a hole in his pants.
"Your mom has enough to deal with; she doesn't need to be worrying about you every two minutes."
"I'm sorry, sir." He daren't look up at his father's partner for fear of seeing the disappointment on his face.
"It's not me that you should be apologising to, kid."
She stood enraptured for a number of minutes as she watched his head toss from side to side, the sunlight glinting off of the tears on his face as it streamed in through the open window, debating as whether to wake him.
Somehow he had been alerted to her presence as he opened his eyes and allowed them to acclimatise to the light in the room, the colour drained from his face as the realisation that he had been caught crying in front of Calleigh dawned on him. How could she ever love a man as weak as him?
"Are you ok?" she asked him as she walked towards the bed, watching him pull himself up awkwardly with his good arm.
"I'm fine," he mumbled without looking at her, wiping roughly at the moisture on his face.
"About yesterday….." she began.
"I'm sorry," he interrupted her before she'd had time to finish her sentence.
"Why are you sorry?"
"Because it shouldn't have happened," he told her as his sad blue eyes met her green ones.
"Why not?"
"Calleigh I'm no good for you…I'm no good for any of you."
"I don't care, I love you."
"Well you shouldn't."
"But I do... Do you love me?"
He ran a haggard hand over his face as he considered her question. He had deep feelings for her, of that he had no doubt. The trouble was that he was so disoriented by the magnitude of what had happened to him recently that he simply had no idea what he felt about anything. It was hard enough getting up each morning to greet the day after the harrowing nights before that he had little or no time to even consider how he was really feeling. Right now, existing was the best he could do.
The passionate kiss that Calleigh had planted on his lips had taken him by surprise, as did his own reaction to her bold move. For a precious few moments he allowed himself to get carried away, his mind not drifting to some horrific memory for a blissful few seconds. He knew it would never last though; sooner or later the demons would come back out to play, haunting his nights and now his days too.
He would have loved to give himself over to her, to return the love that she clearly held for him but he was emotionally crippled, unable to express anything except anger and shame at his inability to function as a normal human being. She deserved better than that…..better than him.
"Please, Horatio. Just let me know that you feel something towards me."
She sat down on the bed next to him and leaned over, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. He closed his eyes and let her, she took hope from the fact that he had not pulled away. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
Miami. Present day:
She could tell by the look on Eric's face that she had gone too far, yet the words had fallen unbidden from her mouth. Perhaps it was the result of having to deal with so much drama, she could deal with Horatio and his problems, what she really didn't need was the rest of the team acting like a bunch of school children squabbling over petty disagreements.
How the hell had Horatio done it for so long?
He'd somehow brought together this group of people and enabled them to work as a team. Perhaps it was his emotional restraint that enabled him to deal with the vastly differing personalities so well. All too often she had found herself getting too emotionally involved, perhaps Sargent Craig was right, did she really have the ability to distance her professional duties from her personal feelings for her teammates?
Horatio was far from an emotionless man that much was clear from the past few months. Was it age and wisdom that enabled him to deal with so many of the issues revolving around running the Crime Lab so effectively?
"Eric, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."
There. She had tried to make amends and apologise for her harsh words, once again cursing her strong Southern temper as it clouded her rational thinking.
He continued to stare at her for a number of moments before letting out a deep sigh. "Is there something going on that I should know about?" he asked again, hoping this time that she would give him a straight answer.
She matched his sigh with one of her own. "You'll have to ask Horatio that."
The deep voice from the other end of the room made the pair of them jump visibly. "Ask me what?"
