A House Divided Chapter 4: The Weight Of Destiny, a csi: miami fanfic

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully by now everybody knows CSI: Miami does not belong to me.

Author's Note: Inspiration comes from odd places. The company named in this story is real as are all facts related to it save my OC's relation to it; that is fabrication. That said, I came across the name of that company in the captioning of the picture on page 585 of Modern Physics, fourth edition, used for course 750:313:01 in Spring 2004 and taught by Professor Gustafsson. Also, many thanks to Professor Figueira. As always, Mr. Hathaway; thank you for coming into my life. Sun Mee and b8kworm, you feed the obsession so nicely. Marianne and kdeb, you guys rock my world.

Summary: "Words are only metaphors for other words, Calleigh. You are a heart divided because that's the home of happiness and love."

Rating: PG-13

Archive(s): EoTU, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh

Spoiler(s): Small for "Complications". There is also a reference to that article posted on the H/C list regarding the Miami/NY crossover. When you get to that part, I'm sure you'll recognize the one I'm referencing.

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Title: A House Divided

Author: Laeta
Email: ladylaetayahoo.com

"A house divided against itself cannot stand."
--- Abraham Lincoln,1858
"Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation;
and every city or house divided against itself shall not stand."
--- Matthew 12:25

Chapter 3: The Weight of Destiny

She woke from her nightmare to kind, cool hands and a worried face. Grandfather David passed no judgment, merely giving comfort as he habitually did.

He handed her a glass of water and watched her; it made her drink slower than she habitually would. Reversing the situation, she watched him while he settled himself comfortably on her bed.

She waited for the expectant look followed by the question, but what did happen threw her off balance.

"Who is Horatio?" David asked. He smiled carefully. "I'll ask about the nightmares after."

Calleigh sighed. She had known that she talked in her sleep; it was as though her waking hours were spent repressing her thoughts that her unconscious unloaded itself while she slept. Foremost in her thoughts was Horatio. It was always him.

When Calleigh did not voluntarily rise from her reverie, David felt his heart clench painfully. She was so new to his life, yet he loved her as equally as he loved Nadine, the only daughter of his fleeting body of flesh and blood. He could never bear to see his girls - be they his daughter, nieces, sisters, or granddaughters - unhappy.

He reached for her hand and the physical closeness brought little comfort to his heart.

"Calleigh, let me give you some advice about men, okay?"

Her wide eyes reflected the newness of their relationship; alright, he would dispel that first.

He smiled gently. "I realize we've only recently found each other, but I love you already - Daughter. Duquesnes always find their way home, don't you think?" Calleigh nodded, smiling at her long, ancestral history of family branches finding each other again and again. "Why do you think this is so?"

"Home isn't a place; it's an emotion."

"It seems strange to say it aloud, doesn't it? So many people have said the same thing before, but we're living it, Calleigh."

"This makes us special how?"

David wisely ignored the sarcasm of her tone. He shrugged and said, "No, not special. Just more prone to having our hearts broken."

David glanced away, looking around him at the room, which had been empty for an extensive period. Calleigh's presence enlivened it. Perhaps it had waited just for her; he would accept that explanation any time.

"I am only a man, an old one at that, Calleigh. My whole life has been for my family's happiness. When my son was unhappy, there was nothing I had to do besides drink the night away with him and commiserate. When my wife was troubled, I could kiss her, make love to her, and fix things for her; that was my self-proclaimed duty to her. I did it with every ounce of devotion I had for her."

He gazed at her sadly. "Yet, when my daughter had her heart broken, no matter how much I wanted to move heaven and earth to see her smile, that job wasn't for me. It was for her lover. As much as it frustrates me, the only thing I can do for my daughter is to dispel as many tears as I can. Nadine is grown now, with children of her own; can you find it in your heart to give an old man one more chance to whatever he can?"

In seconds, Calleigh was in his arms. For the first time in her life, she did not feel the absence of a strong paternal figure in her life; she finally had found him in Grandfather David. She now had an example of marital bliss that would offset the horrors of her childhood and prevent her from perpetuating the cycle to her children. She sobbed gratefully and spilled open her heart.

.....

"We followed the evidence to New York. I've never been there and I don't know if I'll ever go back. It was cold, too cold for me."

David chuckled, knowing the opposite was true for him: he would never live in Louisiana. Visit, surely, especially when he had Calleigh there to see. To live, no, he would miss the falling leaves of autumn, the crisp morning air in winter, and the scented blooms of spring.

"Anyway, we liaised with the criminalists in New York and they helped us narrow to the search to a single neighborhood. We canvassed the area, asking people for suspicious behavior and such."

Tears formed in her eyes and refused to spill down to her cheeks.

"We had a very credible tip and we even waited for back-up. Horatio went into the building with our liaison; I stayed outside. I know how Horatio works, so I had to run interference for him. God! I never should have. The suspect went over the roof and took Horatio with him. Over and over, I see Horatio falling down from the roof of that building."

Still the tears refused to fall. David only held her hands tighter.

"The building manager maintains a small halfway house on one of the floors and he had bought new mattresses for the beds. They were piled next to the dumpster. Horatio landed on them; we found out later that he had a concussion from hitting his head against the dumpster but the suspect wasn't so lucky. He landed on pavement, died on impact."

She laughed sardonically.

"It could have gone either way, you know. Horatio could have hit the sidewalk and the suspect with only a concussion. Or, they both could have died from hitting the sidewalk. The entire difference was an inch."

"What brought you here?"

"I don't know. I didn't intend to - no offense."

"Of course not," David immediately said. Then, more hesitantly, "Might I venture into moral territory?"

Calleigh nodded. Anything to keep her mind from remembering the night she spent in the hospital, at Horatio's beside, simply watching him as the doctors retained him for observation. She woke him at the prescribed intervals when the doctors finally gave tentative approval to let him sleep.

She realized during her vigil that her heart had broken into two. One side wanted to stay and shake him for his selflessness and sacrifices; the other was compelled to run - as far and as fast as she could - away from the source of confusion and contradicting desires.

David brought her back to Pittsburgh with a gentle tug. In the end, she had done both.

"I think, Calleigh, that you're this generation's Henri and Pierre; the Duquesne that will change everything for us."

"Me? What do you mean?"

"Henri and his brother, Charles, divided the Duquesne family into two. Pierre and his brother fought each other in the Civil War, divided by political ideals. You, my dear, are divided in heart, are you not?"

She continued to look blankly at David.

"We Duqesnes are never satisfied with what we have; we are always fighting on behalf of something. Back in the eighteenth century, Henri fought for freedom for a country that only later became his home. In the process, he brought the Duquesne family name to America. In turn, Pierre fought for a political road that would cause a rift between our families. It's only now with you amongst us that the rift is being healed."

David stopped, trying to phrase his last thoughts into words.

"Now, there's you, who is fighting for justice, but that's not all, is it? Where does duty start and desire end, Daughter?"

Calleigh gaped at David.

"My brothers and nephews answered the call to military duty and law enforcement as you did; I know the rules, regulations, and guidelines. It makes things difficult to follow the heart, to find happiness in a sea of mere contentment." He held her tightly to him.

He continued: "Words are only metaphors for other words, Calleigh. You are a heart divided because that's the home of happiness and love."