Title: Tin Man Two
Disclaimer: Obviously the characters belong to CBS. If they
belonged to me, they'd behave like this.
Rating: PG for mild language, adult situations and drug
related content.
Pairing: H/C.
Spoilers: Money for Nothing, with just a hint of Losing Face,
Kill Zone, Dispo Day, Tweaks and Freaks, Double Cap and Big
Brother
Summary: "And there it was, the clue she'd been praying for.
Thank God Horatio had had enough hope left to leave one."
Comments: This is the third and final segment of the
Hummingbird Trilogy, following Part 1: No Hummingbirds, Horatio,
and Part 2: Extractions. To those of you who prefer to stick
close to the CBS version, I did my best but I apologize for the
drastic shortening of the time line between Big Brother and
Money for Nothing. Lonely Road, if you're listening, please
archive the trilogy.
"But for all of the talk It's only true to say, That if you have no hope, There is none."
David Gray, "The Mystery of Love"
It was five a.m. and Calleigh had the ballistics lab all to herself. Usually she liked it that way but lately nothing felt quite right. Calleigh leaned back, away from the microscope, and closed her eyes for a moment. She rubbed her temples in a circular motion with the tips of her fingers but the tension behind her eyes refused to go away. Her mind kept wandering and she wondered where Horatio was. She hadn't seen much of him in the last few days and it worried her, especially now with Yelina suspended from duty and IAB breathing down everybody's neck.
Yelina's family and Horatio's just distancing himself from the case. Which is exactly what he should be doing.
Hard as she tried, Calleigh couldn't seem to convince herself. Horatio should have been there by now, leaning over her shoulder, setting the goose bumps in motion. Even if he wasn't directly involved in the case she knew he would want the hands on, he would want to look through the microscope for himself at the evidence that confirmed what everyone all ready knew. That yesterday Detective Yelina Salas had shot and fatally wounded Angel Vasquez, a man suspected of being one of the biggest drug lords in Florida.
Calleigh leaned forward again and played with the microscope's focus. The two bullets, magnified side by side, edged into perfect clarity. Alexx had delivered one of them personally after completing a late night autopsy on Angel. The other was the bullet Calleigh had dug out of a gel block just minutes ago after test firing Yelina's weapon.
The striations were identical. It wasn't surprising; Yelina freely admitted to the shooting. Self defense, she claimed, although the evidence was far from conclusive. Speed and Eric were meticulously sifting through a mountain of it now and – at least for moment – it wasn't Calleigh's problem. Thank God. Sometimes ballistics could be comfortingly simple ...
... and sometimes it complicated things beyond belief. Staring through the scope Calleigh realized what the tension behind her eyes had been trying to tell her. The striations were more than just identical. They were familiar – much too familiar.
Calleigh sat frozen for a moment and then slowly got to her feet. Walking woodenly over to her desk she opened the top drawer and pulled a small paper envelope out from the very back. Unlike the dozens of other bullets making a temporary home in the ballistics lab this one wasn't labeled. It didn't need to be; Calleigh would never forget it. This was the first – and hopefully the last – bullet she'd ever extracted, inch by agonizing inch, from living human flesh. Horatio's flesh. Calleigh's hands still trembled whenever she thought of it.
But her disciplined mind soon flew back to the science, the need to be certain. Calleigh removed the autopsy bullet from under the scope and dropped it safely back into Alexx's container. Then she slid the bullet from the unlabelled envelope into her palm and placed it beside the one she'd test fired from Yelina's weapon.
Calleigh's eyes confirmed what her sinking heart all ready knew. These striations were also identical.
"Oh, Horatio," Calleigh whispered to the empty lab, "I am so sorry." She crushed the envelope between her fingers and thought back to the Saturday evening when she'd pulled this bullet out of his side. Ten days ago, and they hadn't really talked since. When she'd awoken on the couch Sunday morning he was gone and first thing Monday when she arrived at work she found him combed and composed at his desk like nothing at all had happened. Except that he avoided her now, scientifically and with the complete and utter precision that only Horatio was capable of.
Of course he's avoiding you. He needed your help and you refused. What did you expect him to do, ask you out dancing?
A couple of times during the week she'd popped into his office unexpectedly, just to make sure he was okay. On those occasions, and others he couldn't avoid, Horatio was flawlessly smooth, the consummate professional. In the face of his perfection Calleigh had finally quit trying.
But this was different. This was something Horatio deserved to know.
Why do I have to be the one to tell him?
Calleigh longed to share it with someone ... someone who might be able to help ... someone like Alexx ...
... and Alexx breezed into the ballistics lab, taking Calleigh completely by surprise. The M.E.'s greeting died on her lips when she saw Calleigh's face.
Calleigh turned away and tried to compose herself. She felt Alexx's hand on her shoulder. "Don't even bother trying, sugar. What's wrong?"
Calleigh stalled for time, smoothed the crushed envelope flat and slipped the bullet back in. Carefully folding it shut she buried it deep in the pocket of her lab coat as she turned towards her friend, a precarious smile plastered across her face.
"Alexx. Hi. What can I do for you?"
The M.E. rolled her eyes. "Oh, boy. Somebody could use acting lessons."
"I'm just tired, Alexx, that's all. Really. What's up?"
Alexx decided on the direct approach. "Horatio's not answering his cell."
"What?" Alexx's news hit Calleigh in the stomach like a ton of bricks. Everyone always joked that even if the battery in H's cell was completely dead he would hear it ring and answer anyway.
"It gets better." Alexx raised her eyebrows. "He took a leave of absence. Indefinite. I just came from Personnel. They weren't too thrilled, said it came out of the blue. I guess they'll talk to Speed this afternoon, see if he wants to cover while they figure out what else to do."
Calleigh winced in sympathy. Speed would want that job like he wanted a hole in the head.
Alexx's deep brown eyes sank into Calleigh's. "What's happening with Horatio, Calleigh? Lately, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, I can see how badly he's hurting. In every way – physically as well as mentally."
"Oh, sweet Jesus," Calleigh groaned, "I wish I could tell you, Alexx, more than anything. But I just can't. Not yet, anyway."
Alexx put her arms around Calleigh and hugged her gently. "It's okay, sugar. You just do what you need to do. I know you'd tell me if you could."
"Alexx," Calleigh asked abruptly, "will you do me a favour? Pay another visit to Personnel and let them know I'll be away for a few days?"
Only one eyebrow went up this time. "And when they ask why?"
"You're the doctor, Alexx. Make something up. Tell them I'm sick, I'm dying, I died all ready, tulips at the funeral, whatever. I don't care."
"Why me?" Alexx sighed, picturing the chaos that would rain down in Personnel when she dropped this bombshell. "That's one errand I think I'll do by phone." She squeezed Calleigh's shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll make it a good one. Creativity is one of my strong points."
Alexx's attempt to coax a smile out of her friend was a dismal failure. Calleigh wasn't even listening. A thousand emotions, a thousand plans, were racing through the beautiful blue-green eyes and not a single one of them had anything to do with leaving CSI drastically under staffed.
"Alexx, one more thing. Do you still have Horatio's house key?"
The M.E. nodded. "Come on by before you leave. I'll give it to you."
***
The minute she opened Horatio's front door Calleigh knew he was gone. She felt it as surely as if he'd left a note behind. He hadn't of course but, like a kid coming home from school, she checked the fridge door anyway, disappointed to find nothing except a blank expanse of stainless steel in an empty kitchen.
After that Calleigh wandered aimlessly, drinking Horatio's private space into her being. The main part of the house had an open feeling, the space divided by furniture instead of walls. Dark wood gleamed in the kitchen and accent pillows on the white leather furniture picked up the deep emerald of the walls. A piano, polished to jewel like brilliance, stood at an angle in front of the patio doors. Calleigh discovered Horatio's cell phone on the coffee table, turned off. His service revolver lay next to it, carefully snapped into it's holster. Calleigh checked it automatically and found what she expected. The gun wasn't loaded and the clip was nowhere in sight.
She moved on, slid the patio doors open and stepped out onto the flagstone terrace. It was one of those balmy Florida days that the tourists raved about. Calleigh closed her eyes and absorbed the sound of the distant surf. The last time she had stood here Horatio had settled his strong hands on her shoulders from behind and whispered that he would always live close to the ocean, close enough to hear it when he slept. To be without that sound, the velvet voice purred in her ear, would be like dying a little bit every day until finally he did.
There were no hands on Calleigh's shoulders now and she knew in her heart that wherever Horatio was there was no ocean.
Eventually she wandered back inside and made her way down the hallway to his bedroom. Calleigh's eyes drifted for a moment, swept over the bed and the dresser and pulled sharply back. What she saw there on the polished wood surface took her breath away. A dozen finely cut crystal flowers with fragile stems stood upright in a crystal vase. Calleigh stepped closer to make sure. Yes, they were tulips – her favorite flower. Calleigh had never seen anything so exquisite in her entire life.
Horatio, how did you know?
She thought back carefully and remembered the day that her father had brought a bouquet of yellow tulips for her. He had set them on the reception desk at CSI while he waited for her to come down. Horatio must have seen them, the way he saw everything that mattered.
Something amongst the flowers caught her eye and Calleigh leaned closer. Suspended on a loop of glass so delicate it was almost invisible was a crystal hummingbird. Calleigh's eyes clamped shut and two tears slid in perfect unison down her cheeks.
If you care this much then you left me a clue, didn't you? Didn't you?
Impatiently, with the back of her hand, Calleigh brushed the tears away. There wasn't time for them right now. She moved through the house a second time, quickly, with the precision of a CSI. Her eyes lit on the coffee table again, considered the gun for a moment and then zeroed in on the cell phone. Calleigh's hand trembled as she turned it on and keyed her way through the unfamiliar menu.
And there it was, a single outgoing call that was not erased, the clue she'd been praying for. Thank God Horatio had had enough hope left to leave one.
***
An hour later Calleigh was on the causeway heading north, a hastily packed suitcase tucked into the trunk of her classic red Miata. The top was down and so was Calleigh's hair.
Her phone conversation with Al Humphries's wife had lasted five minutes. The two women had never met and words were awkward between them until they both realized that they shared a common bond, a desire to help a seriously hurting Horatio. After that it was easy, and now Calleigh was headed for the cabin where Horatio and Al had often escaped the city together on long weekends. After Al's death his wife had never had the heart to sell it and yesterday, after work, Horatio had picked up the key. He was half a day ahead of her, and Calleigh had no intentions of stopping until she found him.
Three tanks of gas, four granola bars and eleven hours later Calleigh slowed the Miata down and turned in on a rutted dirt road, worried that she'd gotten the directions wrong. This was awfully remote. If it rained the road would be impassible, at least for the Miata. But the narrow track eventually widened out into a clearing and she spotted the back of Horatio's Cadillac EXT, the black paint blending into the somber shadow of the trees.
The cabin was exactly as Al's wife had described it. Suddenly nervous, stalling for time, Calleigh got out of the Miata and stretched. It took forever to walk as far as the porch and, once there, she hesitated for a long time. Finally, taking a deep breath, she knocked softly and opened the door.
He was there. Calleigh had wanted to find him so badly that Horatio seemed more like a mirage than a man. He was slumped at the kitchen table with his head resting on his folded arms. All Calleigh could really see was the red hair and the complete dejection in the angle of his shoulders.
In slow motion Horatio lifted his head. "Calleigh?" Clouded eyes tried to find a focus on her face and failed miserably. "Calleigh, is it really you?"
"It's me, Horatio." She stood there, just inside the door, and waited quietly.
It wasn't like the movies. He didn't jump up and apologize. He didn't yell, didn't tell her to leave or lurch up in anger and stalk out of the room. He just sat there, trying to focus, with eyes that weren't his. With a start Calleigh realized whose they were. Horatio's eyes belonged to Tina.
"Oh my God." Calleigh's heart folded in on itself. "Horatio, how long has it been?"
"About twenty minutes," he confessed, shaking so hard that his smile fell apart before it reached her. Slowly he got to his feet and crossed the distance between them, pulled her into his arms. He let his head fall on her shoulder.
"Oh my God," Calleigh repeated. Automatically her arms went around him and she put everything else on hold. "Horatio, I am so sorry," she breathed onto his cheek. "I should have found you sooner."
"Has something changed?" he mumbled into her shoulder. "I thought you said ..."
"Shhh," she soothed him, hugging him hard, "never mind what I said. I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere." And Calleigh just stood there in the open doorway and held him, absorbed his trembling and did her best to still it in the quiet strength of her own body. Eventually she pulled away a little bit and looked at him closely. "How long have you been binging?" she asked, afraid of the answer.
He shrugged his eyebrows and looked away, but Calleigh cupped her hand on the unshaven chin and turned his face back towards her. "How long, Horatio?"
"Ten days, on and off. Since I left your place," he admitted bitterly. "It doesn't matter any more. The rush is gone and I don't think it's coming back." Horatio took a deep, shaky breath. "Cal, I don't know what to do. I've never felt like this before, so out of control."
Calleigh took charge of the moment. "First thing we do is get you into the shower," she said firmly. "You're freezing cold. Let's go!" Calleigh took him by the shoulders, turned him around and marched him down the hallway.
She stood outside the bathroom door until she heard the water running and then hurried into the kitchen, intending to raid the fridge and fix something quick to eat. But when Calleigh got there she stopped dead in her tracks. Discarded needles and baggies of crystal meth abandoned without thought on the counter hit her like a slap in the face. The carelessness of it bothered her deeply, almost more than anything else. Horatio was so precise, so meticulous in everything he did, that this was an insult, an indication of his battered state of mind.
Unwilling but strangely drawn Calleigh stepped closer. There were spent matches scattered in the sink, a couple of white coated spoons. Nothing unfamiliar there, Calleigh had seen it all a hundred times before.
This isn't a drug bust. This is Horatio.
A vicious sideways movement of her arm swept the offending evidence off of the counter onto the board floor. Overcome by a sudden urge to throw up Calleigh leaned over the sink, hung onto the edge of the counter and gagged over the spoons until the nausea finally passed. She tore through the cupboards, leaving doors open in her wake, until she found a package of garbage bags. Yanking one out she scooped everything up off the floor and out of the sink, dumped it inside and tied the top shut with a tight knot in the plastic.
Eyes dry and burning Calleigh marched outside through the door no one had bothered to close. She carried the bag to the edge of the clearing, past Horatio's EXT, and pitched it as far as she could into the trees. Once it was gone, swallowed by dusk and dark forest, tears finally surfaced. Blindly Calleigh felt her way along the EXT to the rear bumper. She sat down on it and just let the tears come.
After awhile, when she calmed down, Calleigh walked over to the Miata and got her small suitcase out of the trunk. By the time she retrieved her purse from the front seat, rolled the windows up and locked the doors it was almost completely dark. She checked Horatio's EXT to make sure it was locked, too, dried her eyes carefully and went slowly, reluctantly, back inside the cabin, pulling the door shut softly behind her.
"Calleigh, why are you here?" he asked quietly as she dropped her bags on the floor. Horatio was sitting on the couch in a midnight blue bathrobe, his red hair damp and uncombed, looking for all the world like a little boy fresh out of the bath and in desperate need of a bedtime story.
Some story.
"There's something you need to know, Horatio, and I wanted to be the one to tell you." Calleigh quietly sat down beside him and took both of his hands into her own. This was as good a time as any to get it over with. She took a deep breath, looked into his eyes and just said it. "Horatio, I found out who shot you."
"Yelina. Yes, I know."
Calleigh's eyes widened. Horatio had popped the balloon of her earth shattering news without so much as blinking. He didn't even look heartbroken when he said it, just empty.
"Horatio, I don't understand. You and Yelina ... I mean ... I thought ..."
Horatio smiled, no humor involved, just an upward movement at the corners of his lips. "She thought that too, up until last week. At least I hope she did. That was the whole idea."
"The whole idea of what?" Calleigh snatched her hands back. "Horatio, don't do this. Not again. If you aren't going to tell me the truth then don't even bother starting."
"I've been working deep cover for three years. Not on my own like I told you before. Officially. Since before Ray's death."
Some start.
Calleigh got over the initial shock, moved on to curiosity. "Three years, Horatio? That doesn't make sense. Weren't you with the bomb squad then?"
"Mmm hmm. Ray was part of the Narco Task Force but my own involvement was, well, shall we say a little more devious than that. The assignment came directly from the Chief's office, pretty hush-hush stuff, not much on paper. The D.A. knows, a couple of others."
"But why? You weren't Narco. Bombs are a long way from narcotics. "
Horatio looked past her shoulder off into the distance and the blue eyes sharpened with thought, dissipating a bit of the ugly blurriness. "I guess they figured that no one would catch on. When they began to suspect Yelina's involvement with the drug trade they couldn't very well ask Ray to try and implicate his own wife. Besides, by then they suspected Ray as well. They needed someone else on the inside."
"So they asked you? They asked you to go undercover and spy on your brother and his wife? And you've never told anyone?" Calleigh was livid. "All that time, Horatio?"
He just shrugged, as if the three pain filled years meant nothing. "I'm not quite that heroic, Cal. It wasn't really fair of me but I ended up telling Al. I was sorry afterwards, but at the time I just couldn't help it. It was so damn lonely out there and Al was the best friend I ever had. He knew something was wrong and he kept after me until finally I broke down and told him. We were sitting here in this very same room." Horatio smiled softly. "Al reacted exactly as you just did."
Calleigh gave her hands back to him, felt how tightly he latched on. She sat and just absorbed it all for awhile. Strangely, once she got over the initial shock, her main emotion was one of relief.
"So they'll cover for you if necessary," she said finally. "They know you're undercover."
"At that level?" Horatio tilted his head and one eyebrow. "It's an interesting concept, Cal, but I wouldn't count on it. They'll hang me out to dry if it suits their purposes, which it probably will at some point." He shook his head. "Anyway it doesn't matter. I got what I wanted and I'm out."
"Whoa, Horatio. Stop. You're way ahead of me."
"I know. I'm sorry, Cal. It's just so ... " Horatio searched for a word and couldn't find it. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Maybe we could talk tomorrow. My head'll be a little straighter after some sleep."
"Okay. But there's something I need to know tonight."
Wearily he nodded, putting the answer before the question. "Eighteen months to the day, since Tina introduced herself." He squeezed her hands even tighter. "Please don't pull away."
She did the opposite, sliding closer to gather him in a hug.
Eighteen months. Not just a few weeks. Long term. Sweet Jesus.
Horatio leaned against her and Calleigh realized that in spite of the shower and the warm robe he was wearing Horatio was still shaking. He was more than just cold, she realized. The trembling in his limbs was a year and a half of crank looking for more. She pulled him closer, rested her cheek against his and was startled to find it hot, much hotter than her own. Calleigh put a hand on his forehead.
Fever and meth normally didn't go hand in hand. Unless of course he was hypothermic, on the verge of convulsions. For a split second Calleigh panicked and then common sense prevailed. She thought past addiction to a more immediate concern, to the bullet she'd dug out of his side a mere week and a half ago.
"C'mon," she encouraged, drawing him up on his feet. "I want to take a look at my handy work." Carefully she steered him towards the bedroom and he sank down on the old fashioned comforter that covered the bed without her even having to ask.
"It's fine, Calleigh," he protested weakly as she reached for his housecoat, but Calleigh wasn't having any of it. She pulled his robe to the side and exposed a gauze 4x4 taped in place on his abdomen. It was wet and she realized that he hadn't even bothered to re-bandage the wound after his shower. Angry fingers of dark red reached out under his skin in all directions from under the gauze.
"It's fine," he protested again, but Calleigh reached for the soggy tape and he heard her breath catch in her throat as she pulled the gauze free. "My Lord."
Horatio looked, too, squinting at the wound like he'd never seen it before. "It does seem a bit worse," he admitted reluctantly.
"Horatio! I could kill you, except you're doing a damn fine job of it all on your own. This is badly infected." Calleigh sighed. A lecture wouldn't do much good and she knew it. "I don't suppose you thought to bring a first aid kit?"
The expression in his eyes was such a comical combination of embarassment and baffled confusion that Calleigh almost laughed. "Should be one in the bathroom," he muttered, reading the look in her eyes perfectly. He wasn't exactly living up to his image and he knew it.
"Never mind, Handsome. I brought mine. Stay put."
"Not a problem," he murmured fuzzily, gratefully letting his eyelids drift shut. He was nearly asleep when he heard her come back, felt the weight of her suitcase as she placed it on the bed beside him. Dreamily he listened to the soft sounds she made, moving around the room, zipping open her suitcase, running water in the bathroom.
"Here, take these."
Opening his eyes reluctantly Horatio propped himself up on an elbow and Calleigh dropped a couple of caplets into his hand. "Antibiotics. Heavy duty," she told him as he popped them into his mouth and she handed him a glass of water. "Just what the doctor ordered. I got them from Alexx."
For an instant Horatio looked startled, then he obediently swallowed the pills. "No of course you didn't," he muttered to himself as he washed them down with a sip of water.
"Didn't what?"
"Tell Alexx." He smiled at her apologetically. "I'm sorry. I don't know why the possibility even occurred to me. I know you better than that. But how did she realize that I needed antibiotics?"
Calleigh shrugged. "I honestly don't have a clue. Somehow she just did. I went to pick up your house key and she had the prescription ready. She told me earlier she could tell you were hurting but how she made the mental leap to antibiotics I have no idea."
Horatio shook his head, a small smile of admiration curving his lips. "Alexx doesn't miss much."
"Alexx doesn't miss much?" All Calleigh could do was shake her head. How typically Horatio, admiring in others what he demonstrated tenfold himself but simply couldn't see.
Horatio put the glass down on the bedside table and settled his head carefully on the pillow, eyelids sinking shut, while Calleigh examined the infected wound. "I need to flush this out thoroughly, make sure it's clean," she told him.
"I know." It was no more than a murmur. "Don't worry. I'm beyond hurting at the moment."
And he was right. For the next ten minutes, while Calleigh ruthlessly eliminated every possibility of a germ, he didn't so much as flinch. Calleigh did, more than enough times to make up for it, but Horatio never stirred.
When she finished bandaging his wound Calleigh tucked him in tenderly under a thick quilt she found in the closet. For a long while she sat on the edge of the bed beside him, just existing in the moment, drinking in the contrast of red hair against the crisp perfection of a white pillowcase. Eventually she leaned over and kissed him softly. Calleigh left him to sleep then and took the conflict of her thoughts along with her for a long night's one sided conversation on the couch.
***
Someone was muttering distractedly, picking away at the edges of Calleigh's sleep, unraveling her dream. Annoyed, she rolled over and buried her face in rough couch cushions. But the voice persisted, refused to let her drift back into oblivion.
It was Horatio's voice, she suddenly realized, and Calleigh snapped wide awake. She pushed away the afghan that had tangled itself around her during the night and sat up, squinting. A painfully bright morning sun was hitting the cabin windows with a vengeance and Horatio was sitting at the table, his hands virtually flying over its surface. Curious to see what he was doing, Calleigh got up and stood barefoot behind him.
Oddly enough, he was putting a puzzle together. It was one of those ridiculously intricate ones with a thousand tiny pieces, each one virtually identical to the next. But Horatio's fingers were fast making sense of them, fitting them unerringly together at lightning speed. Calleigh rested her hand on his shoulder and watched, fascinated, as the meaningless image grew on the table at an alarming rate.
"You must have done this one more than once," she said eventually, when he took no notice of her.
Horatio didn't even look up. "Fourteen, to be exact."
"Fourteen, huh?" Under other circumstances it would have been impressive, maybe even funny. But Horatio's preoccupation with the puzzle was intense, almost desperate.
Meth heads called it tweaking; Calleigh called it pathetic. At least that's how it had always seemed in countless interrogation rooms whenever the shadow people lurked along the walls. All of a sudden Calleigh couldn't stand to watch for another second. She retreated to the kitchen, made coffee, double strong, and set a steaming mug of it in front of him, right on top of the cardboard image. When he took no notice she put her hands over his, pulled them gently away from the puzzle and pressed them around the mug.
The heat burning his fingers got through. He looked at her for the first time that morning, blinking as if he was trying to remember why she was there.
"Hey, Handsome. When's the last time you ate?" she asked brightly.
"Ate what?"
Calleigh sighed. "Ate anything. Anything at all."
Horatio's eyes went distant, like he was making an effort to remember, and then suddenly he did. "Can't eat," he told her, satisfied with his answer. "Haven't been able to for a week." He shrugged and went back to the puzzle.
"Well good for you, but I'm starving. How about we try some breakfast? Let's start with the coffee." She steered his hands back to the mug.
"Okay." Horatio took an experimental sip and Calleigh left him alone just long enough to grab the bottle of antibiotics from bedroom and run back. He was feverishly working on the puzzle again, coffee forgotten, and Calleigh groaned. It was going to be a very long day.
***
By early evening Horatio seemed better, calmer and less jittery. The puzzle had eventually ended up on the floor and Calleigh was venting her own frustration by viciously kicking the little bits of cardboard around while she fixed supper.
Horatio had managed to keep down half a bowl of soup at lunch. It was a start, Calleigh told herself, a small victory in a very big war that she was determined to win. Supper would be the next step, something solid to sleep on. The crank might have him at the moment, but Calleigh was determined to take him back. A long night tossing on the couch, struggling with doubt and finally overcoming it, had convinced her of that. Horatio was worth the fight.
Supper wasn't much of a victory. Even Calleigh wasn't hungry, although she choked down enough of her meal to make an impression. Afterwards she washed the dishes and made hot chocolate, passing Horatio his mug on the couch and sitting across from him on the cabin's only comfortable chair. It was time to talk and putting a small amount of distance between them seemed like a good idea. Calleigh wasn't planning on making it easy for either of them. She came out swinging.
"Horatio, why did Yelina shoot you?"
He winced. "Don't say it like that. It was my fault."
"You're fault. Could you explain that, please."
"Calleigh, it all happened so fast. Yelina had no idea it was me," he protested. "I was tailing her just to see what would turn up and she met with someone. Yelina was selling, I didn't recognize the buyer. The drugs changed hands but the money didn't and something about the way it was going down made me think that the buyer was reaching for a weapon. I wasn't sure but I couldn't just stand there and let it happen. So I hollered and stepped out of hiding." Horatio sighed. "Stupid thing to do, I guess. That's when all hell broke loose."
"Keep going," Calleigh urged him.
He closed his eyes, remembering. "I never dreamed Yelina was that fast. My gun was barely out of the holster when she nailed me. Anyway, I guess I passed out for awhile. When I came to on the pavement the buyer was gone but Yelina was still there, kneeling beside me and crying. She never said a word, just got me up on my feet and back to the Hummer before she left. Calleigh I will never, if I live to be a hundred, forget the look on her face as she drove away."
Drove away. She drove away.
Calleigh's temper flared. "Anybody can shoot fast and look later. And if she felt so damn bad she should have done something other than just leave you there bleeding." Calleigh hurled the angry words at him like bullets, and she wasn't done shooting. "Why the hell didn't you ask her patch you up instead of coming to me?"
The words had no sooner left her lips than Calleigh wished she could take them back. Hurt flared hot in Horatio's eyes and she stood up to touch his shoulder lightly in apology. "I'm sorry, Horatio. I shouldn't have said that." She gave up on the chair and sat down on the couch. Horatio immediately shifted closer, slid several strands of white gold hair along his finger and tucked them behind her ear.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered.
Calleigh's train of thought came to a dead stop on the tracks.
Horatio's face softened. "I want to tell you about someone else who's beautiful. Her name is Madison."
"That's a lovely name," Calleigh countered. "You mean the little red headed girl, don't you? Susie's daughter?"
Horatio's jaw dropped and Calleigh couldn't help grinning at him. "Don't look so shocked. You're not the only perceptive person in the universe, you know. I was at that crime scene, too, along with a lot of other people."
"Yeah, I guess you were." Apologetically he smiled at her. He'd been so hung up on Yelina's reaction that he hadn't given a thought to the fact that everyone else who'd been at the scene of the armored truck heist had eyes in their heads, too. Sharp eyes, too, particularly his team. For the first time he thought past Yelina, wondered what conclusions Speed had drawn, and Eric. And Alexx. My God. Especially Alexx.
"Is she your daughter?" Calleigh asked gently.
"No. She's Ray's."
Three small words, spoken calmly, put an end to speculation and hallways full of gossip.
Horatio sighed. "At first Yelina assumed what you did, that Maddie was mine. I couldn't figure out a good way to tell her so I didn't. I just let her go on thinking it. Then the next day Yelina was bent over, looking into Maddie's eyes, and something happened. She saw Raymond there, I know she did. When she stood up I could see the hurt in her eyes as surely as she saw Ray in Maddie's. After they left I offered to walk Yelina out but she brushed me off, said she was fine. I should have gone after her, Calleigh, I'm so sorry now that I didn't. And a few hours later I got the call from IAB about Angel."
"Horatio, we were all shocked when we found out about the shooting. But it doesn't mean you could have stopped her or that it had anything to do with ..."
"No," he broke in, "you don't understand, Calleigh. I knew exactly what she was thinking when she walked away from me. I know why she killed Angel. And it has everything in the world to do with Susie and with Raymond. Maddie is the proof that ties it all together." Horatio made a soft, strangling sound in his throat but he kept on going. "Back when Susie first started cranking, when she was still pretty, she became Angel's personal property. He owned her, body and soul, and sometimes when somebody did him a particular favor he'd loan her out for a night or two. A reward of sorts, for services rendered."
Horatio's cold tone of voice gave away exactly what he thought of someone who owned and lent another human being like property. It disgusted him.
"Ray must have done something pretty special to earn Susie's company. It's how I know for certain that he crossed the line, Calleigh."
She couldn't think of a single thing to say to ease the hurt.
"Angel loaned her to me once," Horatio said, so quietly that Calleigh barely heard him.
"No, Horatio. Stop." Calleigh lay her fingers across his mouth. "Don't do it to yourself. There's nothing else you need to say."
"Oh yes there is," he protested. "I'm sick to death of pretending. I want to tell you everything."
"You will. Give it time, Horatio. For now all I want is for you to quit blaming yourself. You're not responsible for everything that other people do. Family included."
"I guess I know that. It's just hard to accept, sometimes." Shakily he laughed. "So much for the family ties that bind, huh?"
"I'll be your family, Horatio. If you want me to, that is," she finished cautiously, not sure what his reaction was going to be.
"Oh God," he groaned, "more than anything, Calleigh. More than anything."
She ran her knuckles tenderly along his unshaven chin. "Consider it done, then, Handsome. Consider it done."
***
Horatio slept for three days and when he finally woke up his eyes were back. Calleigh had missed them more than anything else. The rest of him had a long way to go to catch up but eventually, with as much tender loving care as she could lavish, she would make certain that it did. Starting right now. Smiling, she climbed into bed beside him.
"Calleigh, don't. Not now, not yet. Not because you feel sorry for me."
"Is that what you think?" Tenderly she cupped the precious face in her hands, ran her thumbs across his cheekbones. "Look into my eyes and then tell me that's what you think."
He looked. And he smiled. "I just want to make sure that it's honest," he whispered, tucking her hair behind one ear with loving fingers and drawing it back over the opposite shoulder to fall on his chest. "I am so tired of pretending. It feels like that's all I've ever done. And I wanted so very much to keep you separate from all of this. God, I've failed."
"Horatio, you haven't failed. We can beat this together. Together," she emphasized, pressing herself closer against him.
"Okay. If you say so." It sounded light, almost flippant, but Calleigh knew that it wasn't. It was only hopeful, for a change.
"Did you find the hummingbird?" he whispered, and she answered by pulling him into her arms.
***
Afterwards they talked about what lay ahead.
"There are only two things that really matter, two little pieces of Raymond that I can still touch," he said.
"Ray Jr. and Maddie," Calleigh supplied, and he nodded thoughtfully. Then Calleigh's hands flew up to cover her mouth. "Oh my God, Horatio, I just thought of something. What about Ray Jr.?"
"He's fine," Horatio was quick to reassure her. "He's with Carmen, Yelina's sister, in Key West. If it's possible for anyone to love Ray Jr. more than I do it's Carmen. He's okay with her for a little while. I'm not so sure about Maddie. Susie's hanging on for the moment but it wouldn't take much ..." His voice trailed off. "I just don't know. Somehow I have to figure out what to do about that, and about Ray Jr., too."
Calleigh lay her hand over his, tenderly smoothing the still restless fingers flat on the pillow. "We can figure it out together, Horatio. I want to be a part of this, a part of your life."
Horatio frowned. "I'm not sure you realize what you're setting yourself up for. It's going to be a long haul, assuming that I make it at all. Ninety-three percent of meth heads fail and go back to using, did you know that?"
"Horatio, forget the statistics for once. That ninety-three percent don't have me cheering in their corner."
"No, I suppose they don't." Cautiously he looked at her. "And I do?" he asked, wanting to make absolutely certain.
"You do. For as long as you want me there."
"Forever then." His arms, which just happened to be wrapped around her, went limp with relief for an instant and then clung so tight that it took her breath away.
"But obviously we can't stay here," she told him. "It's detrimental to your recovery."
"What? Why can't we stay here, Calleigh?"
"There's no ocean, Horatio."
It took a split second longer than it should have but he made the mental leap to the tiny moment on the flagstone terrace. "Well, what are we going to do about it?" he asked, playing with the ends of her hair.
"You're not the only one with friends who own real estate," Calleigh teased. "Someone I know just happens to have a cottage on the beach." She tipped her head thoughtfully, sending a curtain of golden hair into motion. "Well, more like a shack," she conceded. "Sand on the floor, that kind of thing. Anyway, the keys are in my purse. If you're interested."
Horatio sighed happily. "Whatever did I do to deserve you?"
"Everything,"she murmured lovingly into his ear. "Absolutely everything."
***
The shack with sand on the floor was perfection. Their last morning, on the beach, he came up behind her and caught her in a hug, swinging her playfully off her feet. But Calleigh was in a pensive mood. Squeezed tightly against the appealingly lean body of her lover, she couldn't help thinking about tomorrow.
"This isn't going to be easy," she worried, chewing thoughtfully on her lip.
He set her back down on her bare feet in the sand and kissed her cheek from behind. "What isn't going to be easy?" he asked, preoccupied with nuzzling the soft perfection of her neck.
"Work, Horatio. CSI. We're going back tomorrow, in case you forgot. Working together, knowing how we feel about each other, letting everybody else know too ... it isn't going to be easy."
Horatio leaned closer and whispered in her ear.
"I beg to differ."
FIN
Disclaimer: Obviously the characters belong to CBS. If they
belonged to me, they'd behave like this.
Rating: PG for mild language, adult situations and drug
related content.
Pairing: H/C.
Spoilers: Money for Nothing, with just a hint of Losing Face,
Kill Zone, Dispo Day, Tweaks and Freaks, Double Cap and Big
Brother
Summary: "And there it was, the clue she'd been praying for.
Thank God Horatio had had enough hope left to leave one."
Comments: This is the third and final segment of the
Hummingbird Trilogy, following Part 1: No Hummingbirds, Horatio,
and Part 2: Extractions. To those of you who prefer to stick
close to the CBS version, I did my best but I apologize for the
drastic shortening of the time line between Big Brother and
Money for Nothing. Lonely Road, if you're listening, please
archive the trilogy.
"But for all of the talk It's only true to say, That if you have no hope, There is none."
David Gray, "The Mystery of Love"
It was five a.m. and Calleigh had the ballistics lab all to herself. Usually she liked it that way but lately nothing felt quite right. Calleigh leaned back, away from the microscope, and closed her eyes for a moment. She rubbed her temples in a circular motion with the tips of her fingers but the tension behind her eyes refused to go away. Her mind kept wandering and she wondered where Horatio was. She hadn't seen much of him in the last few days and it worried her, especially now with Yelina suspended from duty and IAB breathing down everybody's neck.
Yelina's family and Horatio's just distancing himself from the case. Which is exactly what he should be doing.
Hard as she tried, Calleigh couldn't seem to convince herself. Horatio should have been there by now, leaning over her shoulder, setting the goose bumps in motion. Even if he wasn't directly involved in the case she knew he would want the hands on, he would want to look through the microscope for himself at the evidence that confirmed what everyone all ready knew. That yesterday Detective Yelina Salas had shot and fatally wounded Angel Vasquez, a man suspected of being one of the biggest drug lords in Florida.
Calleigh leaned forward again and played with the microscope's focus. The two bullets, magnified side by side, edged into perfect clarity. Alexx had delivered one of them personally after completing a late night autopsy on Angel. The other was the bullet Calleigh had dug out of a gel block just minutes ago after test firing Yelina's weapon.
The striations were identical. It wasn't surprising; Yelina freely admitted to the shooting. Self defense, she claimed, although the evidence was far from conclusive. Speed and Eric were meticulously sifting through a mountain of it now and – at least for moment – it wasn't Calleigh's problem. Thank God. Sometimes ballistics could be comfortingly simple ...
... and sometimes it complicated things beyond belief. Staring through the scope Calleigh realized what the tension behind her eyes had been trying to tell her. The striations were more than just identical. They were familiar – much too familiar.
Calleigh sat frozen for a moment and then slowly got to her feet. Walking woodenly over to her desk she opened the top drawer and pulled a small paper envelope out from the very back. Unlike the dozens of other bullets making a temporary home in the ballistics lab this one wasn't labeled. It didn't need to be; Calleigh would never forget it. This was the first – and hopefully the last – bullet she'd ever extracted, inch by agonizing inch, from living human flesh. Horatio's flesh. Calleigh's hands still trembled whenever she thought of it.
But her disciplined mind soon flew back to the science, the need to be certain. Calleigh removed the autopsy bullet from under the scope and dropped it safely back into Alexx's container. Then she slid the bullet from the unlabelled envelope into her palm and placed it beside the one she'd test fired from Yelina's weapon.
Calleigh's eyes confirmed what her sinking heart all ready knew. These striations were also identical.
"Oh, Horatio," Calleigh whispered to the empty lab, "I am so sorry." She crushed the envelope between her fingers and thought back to the Saturday evening when she'd pulled this bullet out of his side. Ten days ago, and they hadn't really talked since. When she'd awoken on the couch Sunday morning he was gone and first thing Monday when she arrived at work she found him combed and composed at his desk like nothing at all had happened. Except that he avoided her now, scientifically and with the complete and utter precision that only Horatio was capable of.
Of course he's avoiding you. He needed your help and you refused. What did you expect him to do, ask you out dancing?
A couple of times during the week she'd popped into his office unexpectedly, just to make sure he was okay. On those occasions, and others he couldn't avoid, Horatio was flawlessly smooth, the consummate professional. In the face of his perfection Calleigh had finally quit trying.
But this was different. This was something Horatio deserved to know.
Why do I have to be the one to tell him?
Calleigh longed to share it with someone ... someone who might be able to help ... someone like Alexx ...
... and Alexx breezed into the ballistics lab, taking Calleigh completely by surprise. The M.E.'s greeting died on her lips when she saw Calleigh's face.
Calleigh turned away and tried to compose herself. She felt Alexx's hand on her shoulder. "Don't even bother trying, sugar. What's wrong?"
Calleigh stalled for time, smoothed the crushed envelope flat and slipped the bullet back in. Carefully folding it shut she buried it deep in the pocket of her lab coat as she turned towards her friend, a precarious smile plastered across her face.
"Alexx. Hi. What can I do for you?"
The M.E. rolled her eyes. "Oh, boy. Somebody could use acting lessons."
"I'm just tired, Alexx, that's all. Really. What's up?"
Alexx decided on the direct approach. "Horatio's not answering his cell."
"What?" Alexx's news hit Calleigh in the stomach like a ton of bricks. Everyone always joked that even if the battery in H's cell was completely dead he would hear it ring and answer anyway.
"It gets better." Alexx raised her eyebrows. "He took a leave of absence. Indefinite. I just came from Personnel. They weren't too thrilled, said it came out of the blue. I guess they'll talk to Speed this afternoon, see if he wants to cover while they figure out what else to do."
Calleigh winced in sympathy. Speed would want that job like he wanted a hole in the head.
Alexx's deep brown eyes sank into Calleigh's. "What's happening with Horatio, Calleigh? Lately, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, I can see how badly he's hurting. In every way – physically as well as mentally."
"Oh, sweet Jesus," Calleigh groaned, "I wish I could tell you, Alexx, more than anything. But I just can't. Not yet, anyway."
Alexx put her arms around Calleigh and hugged her gently. "It's okay, sugar. You just do what you need to do. I know you'd tell me if you could."
"Alexx," Calleigh asked abruptly, "will you do me a favour? Pay another visit to Personnel and let them know I'll be away for a few days?"
Only one eyebrow went up this time. "And when they ask why?"
"You're the doctor, Alexx. Make something up. Tell them I'm sick, I'm dying, I died all ready, tulips at the funeral, whatever. I don't care."
"Why me?" Alexx sighed, picturing the chaos that would rain down in Personnel when she dropped this bombshell. "That's one errand I think I'll do by phone." She squeezed Calleigh's shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll make it a good one. Creativity is one of my strong points."
Alexx's attempt to coax a smile out of her friend was a dismal failure. Calleigh wasn't even listening. A thousand emotions, a thousand plans, were racing through the beautiful blue-green eyes and not a single one of them had anything to do with leaving CSI drastically under staffed.
"Alexx, one more thing. Do you still have Horatio's house key?"
The M.E. nodded. "Come on by before you leave. I'll give it to you."
***
The minute she opened Horatio's front door Calleigh knew he was gone. She felt it as surely as if he'd left a note behind. He hadn't of course but, like a kid coming home from school, she checked the fridge door anyway, disappointed to find nothing except a blank expanse of stainless steel in an empty kitchen.
After that Calleigh wandered aimlessly, drinking Horatio's private space into her being. The main part of the house had an open feeling, the space divided by furniture instead of walls. Dark wood gleamed in the kitchen and accent pillows on the white leather furniture picked up the deep emerald of the walls. A piano, polished to jewel like brilliance, stood at an angle in front of the patio doors. Calleigh discovered Horatio's cell phone on the coffee table, turned off. His service revolver lay next to it, carefully snapped into it's holster. Calleigh checked it automatically and found what she expected. The gun wasn't loaded and the clip was nowhere in sight.
She moved on, slid the patio doors open and stepped out onto the flagstone terrace. It was one of those balmy Florida days that the tourists raved about. Calleigh closed her eyes and absorbed the sound of the distant surf. The last time she had stood here Horatio had settled his strong hands on her shoulders from behind and whispered that he would always live close to the ocean, close enough to hear it when he slept. To be without that sound, the velvet voice purred in her ear, would be like dying a little bit every day until finally he did.
There were no hands on Calleigh's shoulders now and she knew in her heart that wherever Horatio was there was no ocean.
Eventually she wandered back inside and made her way down the hallway to his bedroom. Calleigh's eyes drifted for a moment, swept over the bed and the dresser and pulled sharply back. What she saw there on the polished wood surface took her breath away. A dozen finely cut crystal flowers with fragile stems stood upright in a crystal vase. Calleigh stepped closer to make sure. Yes, they were tulips – her favorite flower. Calleigh had never seen anything so exquisite in her entire life.
Horatio, how did you know?
She thought back carefully and remembered the day that her father had brought a bouquet of yellow tulips for her. He had set them on the reception desk at CSI while he waited for her to come down. Horatio must have seen them, the way he saw everything that mattered.
Something amongst the flowers caught her eye and Calleigh leaned closer. Suspended on a loop of glass so delicate it was almost invisible was a crystal hummingbird. Calleigh's eyes clamped shut and two tears slid in perfect unison down her cheeks.
If you care this much then you left me a clue, didn't you? Didn't you?
Impatiently, with the back of her hand, Calleigh brushed the tears away. There wasn't time for them right now. She moved through the house a second time, quickly, with the precision of a CSI. Her eyes lit on the coffee table again, considered the gun for a moment and then zeroed in on the cell phone. Calleigh's hand trembled as she turned it on and keyed her way through the unfamiliar menu.
And there it was, a single outgoing call that was not erased, the clue she'd been praying for. Thank God Horatio had had enough hope left to leave one.
***
An hour later Calleigh was on the causeway heading north, a hastily packed suitcase tucked into the trunk of her classic red Miata. The top was down and so was Calleigh's hair.
Her phone conversation with Al Humphries's wife had lasted five minutes. The two women had never met and words were awkward between them until they both realized that they shared a common bond, a desire to help a seriously hurting Horatio. After that it was easy, and now Calleigh was headed for the cabin where Horatio and Al had often escaped the city together on long weekends. After Al's death his wife had never had the heart to sell it and yesterday, after work, Horatio had picked up the key. He was half a day ahead of her, and Calleigh had no intentions of stopping until she found him.
Three tanks of gas, four granola bars and eleven hours later Calleigh slowed the Miata down and turned in on a rutted dirt road, worried that she'd gotten the directions wrong. This was awfully remote. If it rained the road would be impassible, at least for the Miata. But the narrow track eventually widened out into a clearing and she spotted the back of Horatio's Cadillac EXT, the black paint blending into the somber shadow of the trees.
The cabin was exactly as Al's wife had described it. Suddenly nervous, stalling for time, Calleigh got out of the Miata and stretched. It took forever to walk as far as the porch and, once there, she hesitated for a long time. Finally, taking a deep breath, she knocked softly and opened the door.
He was there. Calleigh had wanted to find him so badly that Horatio seemed more like a mirage than a man. He was slumped at the kitchen table with his head resting on his folded arms. All Calleigh could really see was the red hair and the complete dejection in the angle of his shoulders.
In slow motion Horatio lifted his head. "Calleigh?" Clouded eyes tried to find a focus on her face and failed miserably. "Calleigh, is it really you?"
"It's me, Horatio." She stood there, just inside the door, and waited quietly.
It wasn't like the movies. He didn't jump up and apologize. He didn't yell, didn't tell her to leave or lurch up in anger and stalk out of the room. He just sat there, trying to focus, with eyes that weren't his. With a start Calleigh realized whose they were. Horatio's eyes belonged to Tina.
"Oh my God." Calleigh's heart folded in on itself. "Horatio, how long has it been?"
"About twenty minutes," he confessed, shaking so hard that his smile fell apart before it reached her. Slowly he got to his feet and crossed the distance between them, pulled her into his arms. He let his head fall on her shoulder.
"Oh my God," Calleigh repeated. Automatically her arms went around him and she put everything else on hold. "Horatio, I am so sorry," she breathed onto his cheek. "I should have found you sooner."
"Has something changed?" he mumbled into her shoulder. "I thought you said ..."
"Shhh," she soothed him, hugging him hard, "never mind what I said. I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere." And Calleigh just stood there in the open doorway and held him, absorbed his trembling and did her best to still it in the quiet strength of her own body. Eventually she pulled away a little bit and looked at him closely. "How long have you been binging?" she asked, afraid of the answer.
He shrugged his eyebrows and looked away, but Calleigh cupped her hand on the unshaven chin and turned his face back towards her. "How long, Horatio?"
"Ten days, on and off. Since I left your place," he admitted bitterly. "It doesn't matter any more. The rush is gone and I don't think it's coming back." Horatio took a deep, shaky breath. "Cal, I don't know what to do. I've never felt like this before, so out of control."
Calleigh took charge of the moment. "First thing we do is get you into the shower," she said firmly. "You're freezing cold. Let's go!" Calleigh took him by the shoulders, turned him around and marched him down the hallway.
She stood outside the bathroom door until she heard the water running and then hurried into the kitchen, intending to raid the fridge and fix something quick to eat. But when Calleigh got there she stopped dead in her tracks. Discarded needles and baggies of crystal meth abandoned without thought on the counter hit her like a slap in the face. The carelessness of it bothered her deeply, almost more than anything else. Horatio was so precise, so meticulous in everything he did, that this was an insult, an indication of his battered state of mind.
Unwilling but strangely drawn Calleigh stepped closer. There were spent matches scattered in the sink, a couple of white coated spoons. Nothing unfamiliar there, Calleigh had seen it all a hundred times before.
This isn't a drug bust. This is Horatio.
A vicious sideways movement of her arm swept the offending evidence off of the counter onto the board floor. Overcome by a sudden urge to throw up Calleigh leaned over the sink, hung onto the edge of the counter and gagged over the spoons until the nausea finally passed. She tore through the cupboards, leaving doors open in her wake, until she found a package of garbage bags. Yanking one out she scooped everything up off the floor and out of the sink, dumped it inside and tied the top shut with a tight knot in the plastic.
Eyes dry and burning Calleigh marched outside through the door no one had bothered to close. She carried the bag to the edge of the clearing, past Horatio's EXT, and pitched it as far as she could into the trees. Once it was gone, swallowed by dusk and dark forest, tears finally surfaced. Blindly Calleigh felt her way along the EXT to the rear bumper. She sat down on it and just let the tears come.
After awhile, when she calmed down, Calleigh walked over to the Miata and got her small suitcase out of the trunk. By the time she retrieved her purse from the front seat, rolled the windows up and locked the doors it was almost completely dark. She checked Horatio's EXT to make sure it was locked, too, dried her eyes carefully and went slowly, reluctantly, back inside the cabin, pulling the door shut softly behind her.
"Calleigh, why are you here?" he asked quietly as she dropped her bags on the floor. Horatio was sitting on the couch in a midnight blue bathrobe, his red hair damp and uncombed, looking for all the world like a little boy fresh out of the bath and in desperate need of a bedtime story.
Some story.
"There's something you need to know, Horatio, and I wanted to be the one to tell you." Calleigh quietly sat down beside him and took both of his hands into her own. This was as good a time as any to get it over with. She took a deep breath, looked into his eyes and just said it. "Horatio, I found out who shot you."
"Yelina. Yes, I know."
Calleigh's eyes widened. Horatio had popped the balloon of her earth shattering news without so much as blinking. He didn't even look heartbroken when he said it, just empty.
"Horatio, I don't understand. You and Yelina ... I mean ... I thought ..."
Horatio smiled, no humor involved, just an upward movement at the corners of his lips. "She thought that too, up until last week. At least I hope she did. That was the whole idea."
"The whole idea of what?" Calleigh snatched her hands back. "Horatio, don't do this. Not again. If you aren't going to tell me the truth then don't even bother starting."
"I've been working deep cover for three years. Not on my own like I told you before. Officially. Since before Ray's death."
Some start.
Calleigh got over the initial shock, moved on to curiosity. "Three years, Horatio? That doesn't make sense. Weren't you with the bomb squad then?"
"Mmm hmm. Ray was part of the Narco Task Force but my own involvement was, well, shall we say a little more devious than that. The assignment came directly from the Chief's office, pretty hush-hush stuff, not much on paper. The D.A. knows, a couple of others."
"But why? You weren't Narco. Bombs are a long way from narcotics. "
Horatio looked past her shoulder off into the distance and the blue eyes sharpened with thought, dissipating a bit of the ugly blurriness. "I guess they figured that no one would catch on. When they began to suspect Yelina's involvement with the drug trade they couldn't very well ask Ray to try and implicate his own wife. Besides, by then they suspected Ray as well. They needed someone else on the inside."
"So they asked you? They asked you to go undercover and spy on your brother and his wife? And you've never told anyone?" Calleigh was livid. "All that time, Horatio?"
He just shrugged, as if the three pain filled years meant nothing. "I'm not quite that heroic, Cal. It wasn't really fair of me but I ended up telling Al. I was sorry afterwards, but at the time I just couldn't help it. It was so damn lonely out there and Al was the best friend I ever had. He knew something was wrong and he kept after me until finally I broke down and told him. We were sitting here in this very same room." Horatio smiled softly. "Al reacted exactly as you just did."
Calleigh gave her hands back to him, felt how tightly he latched on. She sat and just absorbed it all for awhile. Strangely, once she got over the initial shock, her main emotion was one of relief.
"So they'll cover for you if necessary," she said finally. "They know you're undercover."
"At that level?" Horatio tilted his head and one eyebrow. "It's an interesting concept, Cal, but I wouldn't count on it. They'll hang me out to dry if it suits their purposes, which it probably will at some point." He shook his head. "Anyway it doesn't matter. I got what I wanted and I'm out."
"Whoa, Horatio. Stop. You're way ahead of me."
"I know. I'm sorry, Cal. It's just so ... " Horatio searched for a word and couldn't find it. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Maybe we could talk tomorrow. My head'll be a little straighter after some sleep."
"Okay. But there's something I need to know tonight."
Wearily he nodded, putting the answer before the question. "Eighteen months to the day, since Tina introduced herself." He squeezed her hands even tighter. "Please don't pull away."
She did the opposite, sliding closer to gather him in a hug.
Eighteen months. Not just a few weeks. Long term. Sweet Jesus.
Horatio leaned against her and Calleigh realized that in spite of the shower and the warm robe he was wearing Horatio was still shaking. He was more than just cold, she realized. The trembling in his limbs was a year and a half of crank looking for more. She pulled him closer, rested her cheek against his and was startled to find it hot, much hotter than her own. Calleigh put a hand on his forehead.
Fever and meth normally didn't go hand in hand. Unless of course he was hypothermic, on the verge of convulsions. For a split second Calleigh panicked and then common sense prevailed. She thought past addiction to a more immediate concern, to the bullet she'd dug out of his side a mere week and a half ago.
"C'mon," she encouraged, drawing him up on his feet. "I want to take a look at my handy work." Carefully she steered him towards the bedroom and he sank down on the old fashioned comforter that covered the bed without her even having to ask.
"It's fine, Calleigh," he protested weakly as she reached for his housecoat, but Calleigh wasn't having any of it. She pulled his robe to the side and exposed a gauze 4x4 taped in place on his abdomen. It was wet and she realized that he hadn't even bothered to re-bandage the wound after his shower. Angry fingers of dark red reached out under his skin in all directions from under the gauze.
"It's fine," he protested again, but Calleigh reached for the soggy tape and he heard her breath catch in her throat as she pulled the gauze free. "My Lord."
Horatio looked, too, squinting at the wound like he'd never seen it before. "It does seem a bit worse," he admitted reluctantly.
"Horatio! I could kill you, except you're doing a damn fine job of it all on your own. This is badly infected." Calleigh sighed. A lecture wouldn't do much good and she knew it. "I don't suppose you thought to bring a first aid kit?"
The expression in his eyes was such a comical combination of embarassment and baffled confusion that Calleigh almost laughed. "Should be one in the bathroom," he muttered, reading the look in her eyes perfectly. He wasn't exactly living up to his image and he knew it.
"Never mind, Handsome. I brought mine. Stay put."
"Not a problem," he murmured fuzzily, gratefully letting his eyelids drift shut. He was nearly asleep when he heard her come back, felt the weight of her suitcase as she placed it on the bed beside him. Dreamily he listened to the soft sounds she made, moving around the room, zipping open her suitcase, running water in the bathroom.
"Here, take these."
Opening his eyes reluctantly Horatio propped himself up on an elbow and Calleigh dropped a couple of caplets into his hand. "Antibiotics. Heavy duty," she told him as he popped them into his mouth and she handed him a glass of water. "Just what the doctor ordered. I got them from Alexx."
For an instant Horatio looked startled, then he obediently swallowed the pills. "No of course you didn't," he muttered to himself as he washed them down with a sip of water.
"Didn't what?"
"Tell Alexx." He smiled at her apologetically. "I'm sorry. I don't know why the possibility even occurred to me. I know you better than that. But how did she realize that I needed antibiotics?"
Calleigh shrugged. "I honestly don't have a clue. Somehow she just did. I went to pick up your house key and she had the prescription ready. She told me earlier she could tell you were hurting but how she made the mental leap to antibiotics I have no idea."
Horatio shook his head, a small smile of admiration curving his lips. "Alexx doesn't miss much."
"Alexx doesn't miss much?" All Calleigh could do was shake her head. How typically Horatio, admiring in others what he demonstrated tenfold himself but simply couldn't see.
Horatio put the glass down on the bedside table and settled his head carefully on the pillow, eyelids sinking shut, while Calleigh examined the infected wound. "I need to flush this out thoroughly, make sure it's clean," she told him.
"I know." It was no more than a murmur. "Don't worry. I'm beyond hurting at the moment."
And he was right. For the next ten minutes, while Calleigh ruthlessly eliminated every possibility of a germ, he didn't so much as flinch. Calleigh did, more than enough times to make up for it, but Horatio never stirred.
When she finished bandaging his wound Calleigh tucked him in tenderly under a thick quilt she found in the closet. For a long while she sat on the edge of the bed beside him, just existing in the moment, drinking in the contrast of red hair against the crisp perfection of a white pillowcase. Eventually she leaned over and kissed him softly. Calleigh left him to sleep then and took the conflict of her thoughts along with her for a long night's one sided conversation on the couch.
***
Someone was muttering distractedly, picking away at the edges of Calleigh's sleep, unraveling her dream. Annoyed, she rolled over and buried her face in rough couch cushions. But the voice persisted, refused to let her drift back into oblivion.
It was Horatio's voice, she suddenly realized, and Calleigh snapped wide awake. She pushed away the afghan that had tangled itself around her during the night and sat up, squinting. A painfully bright morning sun was hitting the cabin windows with a vengeance and Horatio was sitting at the table, his hands virtually flying over its surface. Curious to see what he was doing, Calleigh got up and stood barefoot behind him.
Oddly enough, he was putting a puzzle together. It was one of those ridiculously intricate ones with a thousand tiny pieces, each one virtually identical to the next. But Horatio's fingers were fast making sense of them, fitting them unerringly together at lightning speed. Calleigh rested her hand on his shoulder and watched, fascinated, as the meaningless image grew on the table at an alarming rate.
"You must have done this one more than once," she said eventually, when he took no notice of her.
Horatio didn't even look up. "Fourteen, to be exact."
"Fourteen, huh?" Under other circumstances it would have been impressive, maybe even funny. But Horatio's preoccupation with the puzzle was intense, almost desperate.
Meth heads called it tweaking; Calleigh called it pathetic. At least that's how it had always seemed in countless interrogation rooms whenever the shadow people lurked along the walls. All of a sudden Calleigh couldn't stand to watch for another second. She retreated to the kitchen, made coffee, double strong, and set a steaming mug of it in front of him, right on top of the cardboard image. When he took no notice she put her hands over his, pulled them gently away from the puzzle and pressed them around the mug.
The heat burning his fingers got through. He looked at her for the first time that morning, blinking as if he was trying to remember why she was there.
"Hey, Handsome. When's the last time you ate?" she asked brightly.
"Ate what?"
Calleigh sighed. "Ate anything. Anything at all."
Horatio's eyes went distant, like he was making an effort to remember, and then suddenly he did. "Can't eat," he told her, satisfied with his answer. "Haven't been able to for a week." He shrugged and went back to the puzzle.
"Well good for you, but I'm starving. How about we try some breakfast? Let's start with the coffee." She steered his hands back to the mug.
"Okay." Horatio took an experimental sip and Calleigh left him alone just long enough to grab the bottle of antibiotics from bedroom and run back. He was feverishly working on the puzzle again, coffee forgotten, and Calleigh groaned. It was going to be a very long day.
***
By early evening Horatio seemed better, calmer and less jittery. The puzzle had eventually ended up on the floor and Calleigh was venting her own frustration by viciously kicking the little bits of cardboard around while she fixed supper.
Horatio had managed to keep down half a bowl of soup at lunch. It was a start, Calleigh told herself, a small victory in a very big war that she was determined to win. Supper would be the next step, something solid to sleep on. The crank might have him at the moment, but Calleigh was determined to take him back. A long night tossing on the couch, struggling with doubt and finally overcoming it, had convinced her of that. Horatio was worth the fight.
Supper wasn't much of a victory. Even Calleigh wasn't hungry, although she choked down enough of her meal to make an impression. Afterwards she washed the dishes and made hot chocolate, passing Horatio his mug on the couch and sitting across from him on the cabin's only comfortable chair. It was time to talk and putting a small amount of distance between them seemed like a good idea. Calleigh wasn't planning on making it easy for either of them. She came out swinging.
"Horatio, why did Yelina shoot you?"
He winced. "Don't say it like that. It was my fault."
"You're fault. Could you explain that, please."
"Calleigh, it all happened so fast. Yelina had no idea it was me," he protested. "I was tailing her just to see what would turn up and she met with someone. Yelina was selling, I didn't recognize the buyer. The drugs changed hands but the money didn't and something about the way it was going down made me think that the buyer was reaching for a weapon. I wasn't sure but I couldn't just stand there and let it happen. So I hollered and stepped out of hiding." Horatio sighed. "Stupid thing to do, I guess. That's when all hell broke loose."
"Keep going," Calleigh urged him.
He closed his eyes, remembering. "I never dreamed Yelina was that fast. My gun was barely out of the holster when she nailed me. Anyway, I guess I passed out for awhile. When I came to on the pavement the buyer was gone but Yelina was still there, kneeling beside me and crying. She never said a word, just got me up on my feet and back to the Hummer before she left. Calleigh I will never, if I live to be a hundred, forget the look on her face as she drove away."
Drove away. She drove away.
Calleigh's temper flared. "Anybody can shoot fast and look later. And if she felt so damn bad she should have done something other than just leave you there bleeding." Calleigh hurled the angry words at him like bullets, and she wasn't done shooting. "Why the hell didn't you ask her patch you up instead of coming to me?"
The words had no sooner left her lips than Calleigh wished she could take them back. Hurt flared hot in Horatio's eyes and she stood up to touch his shoulder lightly in apology. "I'm sorry, Horatio. I shouldn't have said that." She gave up on the chair and sat down on the couch. Horatio immediately shifted closer, slid several strands of white gold hair along his finger and tucked them behind her ear.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered.
Calleigh's train of thought came to a dead stop on the tracks.
Horatio's face softened. "I want to tell you about someone else who's beautiful. Her name is Madison."
"That's a lovely name," Calleigh countered. "You mean the little red headed girl, don't you? Susie's daughter?"
Horatio's jaw dropped and Calleigh couldn't help grinning at him. "Don't look so shocked. You're not the only perceptive person in the universe, you know. I was at that crime scene, too, along with a lot of other people."
"Yeah, I guess you were." Apologetically he smiled at her. He'd been so hung up on Yelina's reaction that he hadn't given a thought to the fact that everyone else who'd been at the scene of the armored truck heist had eyes in their heads, too. Sharp eyes, too, particularly his team. For the first time he thought past Yelina, wondered what conclusions Speed had drawn, and Eric. And Alexx. My God. Especially Alexx.
"Is she your daughter?" Calleigh asked gently.
"No. She's Ray's."
Three small words, spoken calmly, put an end to speculation and hallways full of gossip.
Horatio sighed. "At first Yelina assumed what you did, that Maddie was mine. I couldn't figure out a good way to tell her so I didn't. I just let her go on thinking it. Then the next day Yelina was bent over, looking into Maddie's eyes, and something happened. She saw Raymond there, I know she did. When she stood up I could see the hurt in her eyes as surely as she saw Ray in Maddie's. After they left I offered to walk Yelina out but she brushed me off, said she was fine. I should have gone after her, Calleigh, I'm so sorry now that I didn't. And a few hours later I got the call from IAB about Angel."
"Horatio, we were all shocked when we found out about the shooting. But it doesn't mean you could have stopped her or that it had anything to do with ..."
"No," he broke in, "you don't understand, Calleigh. I knew exactly what she was thinking when she walked away from me. I know why she killed Angel. And it has everything in the world to do with Susie and with Raymond. Maddie is the proof that ties it all together." Horatio made a soft, strangling sound in his throat but he kept on going. "Back when Susie first started cranking, when she was still pretty, she became Angel's personal property. He owned her, body and soul, and sometimes when somebody did him a particular favor he'd loan her out for a night or two. A reward of sorts, for services rendered."
Horatio's cold tone of voice gave away exactly what he thought of someone who owned and lent another human being like property. It disgusted him.
"Ray must have done something pretty special to earn Susie's company. It's how I know for certain that he crossed the line, Calleigh."
She couldn't think of a single thing to say to ease the hurt.
"Angel loaned her to me once," Horatio said, so quietly that Calleigh barely heard him.
"No, Horatio. Stop." Calleigh lay her fingers across his mouth. "Don't do it to yourself. There's nothing else you need to say."
"Oh yes there is," he protested. "I'm sick to death of pretending. I want to tell you everything."
"You will. Give it time, Horatio. For now all I want is for you to quit blaming yourself. You're not responsible for everything that other people do. Family included."
"I guess I know that. It's just hard to accept, sometimes." Shakily he laughed. "So much for the family ties that bind, huh?"
"I'll be your family, Horatio. If you want me to, that is," she finished cautiously, not sure what his reaction was going to be.
"Oh God," he groaned, "more than anything, Calleigh. More than anything."
She ran her knuckles tenderly along his unshaven chin. "Consider it done, then, Handsome. Consider it done."
***
Horatio slept for three days and when he finally woke up his eyes were back. Calleigh had missed them more than anything else. The rest of him had a long way to go to catch up but eventually, with as much tender loving care as she could lavish, she would make certain that it did. Starting right now. Smiling, she climbed into bed beside him.
"Calleigh, don't. Not now, not yet. Not because you feel sorry for me."
"Is that what you think?" Tenderly she cupped the precious face in her hands, ran her thumbs across his cheekbones. "Look into my eyes and then tell me that's what you think."
He looked. And he smiled. "I just want to make sure that it's honest," he whispered, tucking her hair behind one ear with loving fingers and drawing it back over the opposite shoulder to fall on his chest. "I am so tired of pretending. It feels like that's all I've ever done. And I wanted so very much to keep you separate from all of this. God, I've failed."
"Horatio, you haven't failed. We can beat this together. Together," she emphasized, pressing herself closer against him.
"Okay. If you say so." It sounded light, almost flippant, but Calleigh knew that it wasn't. It was only hopeful, for a change.
"Did you find the hummingbird?" he whispered, and she answered by pulling him into her arms.
***
Afterwards they talked about what lay ahead.
"There are only two things that really matter, two little pieces of Raymond that I can still touch," he said.
"Ray Jr. and Maddie," Calleigh supplied, and he nodded thoughtfully. Then Calleigh's hands flew up to cover her mouth. "Oh my God, Horatio, I just thought of something. What about Ray Jr.?"
"He's fine," Horatio was quick to reassure her. "He's with Carmen, Yelina's sister, in Key West. If it's possible for anyone to love Ray Jr. more than I do it's Carmen. He's okay with her for a little while. I'm not so sure about Maddie. Susie's hanging on for the moment but it wouldn't take much ..." His voice trailed off. "I just don't know. Somehow I have to figure out what to do about that, and about Ray Jr., too."
Calleigh lay her hand over his, tenderly smoothing the still restless fingers flat on the pillow. "We can figure it out together, Horatio. I want to be a part of this, a part of your life."
Horatio frowned. "I'm not sure you realize what you're setting yourself up for. It's going to be a long haul, assuming that I make it at all. Ninety-three percent of meth heads fail and go back to using, did you know that?"
"Horatio, forget the statistics for once. That ninety-three percent don't have me cheering in their corner."
"No, I suppose they don't." Cautiously he looked at her. "And I do?" he asked, wanting to make absolutely certain.
"You do. For as long as you want me there."
"Forever then." His arms, which just happened to be wrapped around her, went limp with relief for an instant and then clung so tight that it took her breath away.
"But obviously we can't stay here," she told him. "It's detrimental to your recovery."
"What? Why can't we stay here, Calleigh?"
"There's no ocean, Horatio."
It took a split second longer than it should have but he made the mental leap to the tiny moment on the flagstone terrace. "Well, what are we going to do about it?" he asked, playing with the ends of her hair.
"You're not the only one with friends who own real estate," Calleigh teased. "Someone I know just happens to have a cottage on the beach." She tipped her head thoughtfully, sending a curtain of golden hair into motion. "Well, more like a shack," she conceded. "Sand on the floor, that kind of thing. Anyway, the keys are in my purse. If you're interested."
Horatio sighed happily. "Whatever did I do to deserve you?"
"Everything,"she murmured lovingly into his ear. "Absolutely everything."
***
The shack with sand on the floor was perfection. Their last morning, on the beach, he came up behind her and caught her in a hug, swinging her playfully off her feet. But Calleigh was in a pensive mood. Squeezed tightly against the appealingly lean body of her lover, she couldn't help thinking about tomorrow.
"This isn't going to be easy," she worried, chewing thoughtfully on her lip.
He set her back down on her bare feet in the sand and kissed her cheek from behind. "What isn't going to be easy?" he asked, preoccupied with nuzzling the soft perfection of her neck.
"Work, Horatio. CSI. We're going back tomorrow, in case you forgot. Working together, knowing how we feel about each other, letting everybody else know too ... it isn't going to be easy."
Horatio leaned closer and whispered in her ear.
"I beg to differ."
FIN