View Down The Scope Chapter 4: Hurting Heart, a csi: miami fanfic

Disclaimer: CSI: Miami does not belong to me. The characters are full of inspiration, intelligence, and intrigue that I can't help but borrow them a short while. I heartily enjoy the show and its premise. The events of this story are mine, but the characters are definitely not.

Author's Note: For Mr. Hathaway, as always. For b8kworm and SunMee. kdeb, you wacko; you spawned this thing, so you take some of the heat. Thanks for the read through. Marianne, what can I say? Oh, and kudos to whoever gets my reference in Spoiler(s).

Summary: He always considered this the still before the storm, before humanity's worst were to be found and judged, before the deliverance to bad news.

Rating: PG-13

Archive(s): Evidence of Things Unseen, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me. I like to go visiting.

Pairing(s): H/C

Spoiler(s): I've renamed the two constellations to Kill Zone major and Body Count minor.

Responds to the Kill Zone challenge on the H/C mailing list: a one part H/C fic that in some way, shape or form, references Kill Zone.

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Title: View Down The Scope

Author: Laeta
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

Chapter 4: Hurting Heart

It was Aaron who finally found Horatio later that night. Exhausted from the negotiations, Aaron still found some energy for his friend. He watched as round after round was fired into the night with no moon to guide the shots. Whatever demons Horatio was trying to demolish, this obviously did not help. He was willing to bet that Horatio was here because he did not want to face the possibility of sleep.

"You should be home, with the family, Aaron."

Aaron stretched in the grass and gazed towards whatever stars he could see through the haze from the city.

"Funny you should say that; Sheila kicked me out, said she wouldn't let me back in unless you ring the doorbell."

"She would never say anything like that."

"Yeah. Okay, so I took it on myself to find you." He glanced in Horatio's direction. "Unless you want me to call the cavalry."

He could see the idea did not appeal; Horatio always had hated the limelight.

"Then tell me what's got you out here and not at home."

Horatio returned to his target practice.

Suddenly, shapes materialized and forcibly removed the rifle from Horatio's grasp. They had him pinned to the ground; he did not fight them.

"Oops. The cavalry's already here."

It was the other members of EMPAD. How they had found them Horatio did not care to know; he would not fight them all. Aaron, on the other hand, was a favorite sparring partner.

"Okay, let's go."

They dragged a resigned Horatio to his house and practically forced some dinner down his throat. Fifteen glares does wonders to a lagging appetite, but it felt good. The relinquishment of control was refreshing. He did not have to think, did not have to plan his next step, did not have to be alone to wonder what raged within him.

He languished in that gray area between responsibility and sleep; he could have gone either way with the appropriate stimulus.

The choice was taken from him when, through the door, strode a flash of blonde brilliance. He wished he could have been ashamed of his behavior, but he was too far gone. He was too far withdrawn to understand that the EMPAD had called her and had given her a crash course into his mind.

She peered at him, questioning the logic of the other members, wondering why they allowed him to sink this low. Then they prompted her into action; she apologized beforehand and then slapped him hard across the face. They cheered her strength and hauled Horatio to his feet.

And that was all it took. He ejected each and every member out of his house - civilly or not, it did not matter as long as they were out. Then he realized it: just he and Calleigh were left.

"I'm so sorry, Horatio. They told me to."

He shook his head, completely within his own skin. Somewhat amused at the turn of circumstances, he offered Calleigh the hospitality he did not bother to offer the EMPAD members. But, where to begin?

"Horatio? Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

She hesitated two seconds too long, and he knew what she was going to ask. "Where were you when I went into the house?"

"The second time?" He leaned back on the couch, counting the wooden planks lining his ceiling. "I was your backup, watching every step you took, and waiting for you to tell me if I should shoot John Hagen."

"Why you? Why not SWAT? This is what they're trained for anyway."

"Because Aaron told me to."

"That's it?" He made a mental note never to cross Calleigh's good graces.

Well, now or never. He might as well have it all out. "No, that's just the beginning."

He looked in her general direction, only wanting to read her body posture. He studiously avoided the emotions and thoughts viewable from her eyes.

"In EMPAD, my specialty is sharpshooting. Or, specifically, moving targets."

"What weapon?" she whispered.

"The rifle. It chose me; I didn't want it."

"Why?"

"It reminded me too much of you."

She let out a breath in complete surprise, but she could not allow herself to linger on the implications.

"So, there you were, in the underbrush somewhere? Lying with a rifle and watching John pull his on me?"

"In a nutshell."

"Did you have a choice to join EMPAD?"

"Not really. I gave them as good a run for their money as I could; Aaron eventually tipped me in their favor."

"Do you regret it?"

"I did today."

"John isn't six-feet tall, you know."

His gaze fell on her then. It was an odd comment, certainly, but for him, it hit with the force of gravity. She had glanced away when she said it, but she re-centered herself back on him at the sudden silence.

She grinned. "He's six-one. The inch makes all the difference." She shrugged. "Besides, I've seen him shoot targets. He misses wide about half the time."

"Calleigh, who made you come here?"

"Made? Nobody. Sheila asked me."

"Aaron's wife?"

"Yeah. I've known her for a few years. She invited me for dinner - well, because of what happened today."

Horatio was so sorry it ever had to happen. Maybe, if he had only done more, somewhere, they could have avoided it all.

"Horatio, if you're thinking what I think you are, I'm going to slap you again. This time, on my own volition."

"I'm sorry. I can't help myself."

"I know." She paused, then moved to sit next to him. "Do you want at least to know why John took those hostages?"

It was strange, this inversion of roles. For so many occasions, he was the one who comforted, and it made him feel better about his entire life. Where he had to find his own sense of comfort especially after his mother's homicide, he could hand it to a victim's family. Now, here was Calleigh, playing his accustomed role.

In the spirit of fair exchange, he offered the most honest answer he had. "No. As far as I'm concerned, he's consigned himself to the devil."

She laughed at the image of John Hagen and the devil driving each other mad for eternity. When she finally calmed down, she began to wonder at the reason for Horatio's earlier grief. She had some pretty good guesses on the cause, putting together seemingly innocent comments dropped by Sheila and Aaron, not to mention the other members of EMPAD.

"Horatio? When John pulled the rifle on me - did he hurt you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Answer it; you can't deflect anything very well from me."

"No, he didn't hurt me. Because my heart was with you the entire time."

She nodded. "Good. Because I was never scared. Not when I knew you were with me."

"Even when you didn't know where I was?"

"Especially when I don't know. Do you want to know the answer to this why?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"I don't think I'm ready for the answer. I may not have been hurt, but it killed me to not be able to do anything."

She hugged him, tightly. "I'm sorry for making you go through that."

"I wouldn't've been anywhere else."

"How about now? Would you rather be anywhere else now?"

He shook his head, breathing in Calleigh's scent. He missed the delighted grin glowing on her face.

"Good. Well, I'm exhausted, so let's talk more tomorrow. Then, you can take me to your practice ground and show me your rifle."

"You planning on staying here tonight, Calleigh?"

"Yeah. You have to win me a bet. Besides, you're really comfortable."

"What bet?"

She shifted slowly into a more comfortable position against him, forgetting all mention of the bet. Already three-quarters to sleep, she murmured, "You have an incredible view out your window. Can we open your blinds?"

"There's no moon out."

"What does that matter? We can listen to the waves." She knew she had an unfair advantage over him, not just in general, but at this moment. She knew her joy infected him, and he would do anything to please her. Something about the day's ordeal brought it out.

So, they flicked off all the lights and opened the blinds separating the living room from the beach front. This was one of the things Calleigh loved about Horatio's house - the fact that the living room faced the back of the house and fell into Nature's own backyard. He opened the glass doors that blocked the sound but slid the screens in place to keep the mosquitoes out.

When he came back to the couch, Calleigh immediately had her arms around him, convincing him to rest against her. It took a long time, but he managed to fall asleep that night and dreamed in the sweetest way possible.