Although it goes without saying I'll still say it. I don't own it and I'm not profiting from it (except maybe being able to sleep now that it's out of my head).

Note: The events in the prologue are fiction based loosely upon a true story and do not necessarily (I can really only speak for myself) represent the opinions of the author, , CBS, CSI: Miami, etc. etc. They are simply a plot driver intended for that purpose.

I knew you needed a friend.
I knew you needed some blue skies.
You need some laughter again,
til magic returns to your blue eyes.
You're lost in the circle of pain.
Where's it all going?
Each day is the same,
where are you going?

--Say Hello, Nitin Sawhney

Horatio Caine waited patiently as his team slowly gathered into the layout room. Even perpetually cheerful Calleigh dragged from the few hours of sleep he had afforded them. Off to the right, the windows to the room were dotted with a soft warm rain that brought a certain melancholy with it. He feared what it meant.

Speed flashed him a tight smile from behind the steaming cup off coffee held close as he walked in.

"Ohhh." Calleigh groan jealously.

Speed looked off into the distance and licked his lips. "No." His voice was flat and final.

"Please?"

"No." he took a gulp singeing his tongue in the process.

"Pretty please?"

"Oh for hell sake." He held the cup out to her. "A sip. Okay?"

"Thank you." She cooed gratefully, taking the cup and inhaling the life giving steam. "Mmm, vanilla." She took a careful sip. "Have I told you I love you recently?"

"Yeah." He said it true Tim Speedle form, "So, it's not going to work." He wiggled his fingers motioning for the cup. "Give it back now."

She stuck her lip out in a pout that generally got her her way but handed the cup back to him.

"Better get that looked at." He said pointing to her lip, "Might be anaphylactic."

"Here ya go Cal." Alexx's creamy voice broke in. "I still love you." She handed Calleigh a Styrofoam cup raising her own in a small toast.

"Oh don't get me wrong." Speed defended himself without much emotion. "I love you too, just not as much as coffee at 2:30 in the morning after working all day. "You agree, don't you Delko."

Eric staggered in drizzling himself down a chair and rested his head on the table. "I'll agree to anything if you let me sleep."

Caine stood silent through the banter. It meant a great deal that they could carry on such a meaningless yet meaning filled conversation in front of him. "Ladies and gentlemen." He broke in at the natural lapse waiting until he had their full attention. "I know you're tired but we have a missing little boy out there who needs us."

Muttered agreements and nods answered him and each pulled themselves up a bit higher forcing their minds awake.

"Speed, you have something?"

"Um, yeah." He set his cup on the table and pulled a folder from under his arm handing it to Horatio. "We found the teacher at a hotel on 70. "He pressed his finger into his eyes in an effort to relieve the sting. "No Jacob."

"Did you find anything?" Calleigh asked, her tiredness burned away by the announcement.

"Only that Mr. Marty Mathews, aka, Chris Davies, aka, Marty Medeskar, and so on and so on, is wanted in six states for kidnapping, child molesting, drugs, kiddie porn and that's just for starters. Truly stellar guy."

"It gets him off the streets." Eric said with grim satisfaction.

"But it doesn't find Jacob." Caine said.

"He insists he never touched the boy. So far, he's fessed up to molesting six others in Jacob's class. But not Jacob." Speed informed the group.

"And we believe him?" Alexx asked indignantly.

"This time we do." Caine answered closing the file.

"Why?" Calleigh asked between sips.

"Hair color." Speed answered, anger creeping into his voice. "In ever case he's suspected in the child had blond hair. Jacob is a carrot top." He looked at his boss realizing what he's just said. "Sorry."

"No apology necessary."

"So if he doesn't have the boy, who does?" Eric asked.

"Let's go over what we know. " Horatio guided.

"We arrived at the scene at 6:53. You found mom stabbed." Calleigh began. "Evidence from the car tells us that someone other than mom was driving. Besides the position of the driver's seat, we found her blood on the passenger seat which also tells us that she was in the car after being stabbed."

"Placement and angle of the wounds tells me that she was standing for all three thrusts. Whoever stabbed her knows how to kill slow and painful." Alexx added.

"Which means that we don't have the primary scene." Eric stated.

"Mm hmm." Horatio agreed, his eyes cast down as he recreated what was being told to him on the page in his mind.

"We also know from the car that the child had been in the back seat within an hour." Calleigh continued.

"How do you know that?" Alexx asked.

"French fries were still edible."

"Excuse me."

"The child's meal we found on the back seat had french fries. When the oil used to make the fries cools and congeals the fries wrinkle and go soggy. These ones still had their shape."

"So we have a starting place for our timeline." Caine nodded, mentally filing the vital information and smiled at Alexx who was shaking her head.

"You're amazing." She said, "Scary, but amazing. Who would have ever thought you could solve a crime with a french fry."

"It's not solved yet," Horatio said, "but good work."

"So back to my question, if the teach doesn't have the boy, who does?" Eric interjected.

Caine let his head bowed as he processed. "Hates him." He murmured. He tilted his head, looking at the windows where the light spatter had become heavy turrets of rain dribbling sloppily along invisible paths.

"H?" Speed asked, leaning in. He had worked side by side with the veteran CSI long enough to know when something important was being played on the stage that was the man's mind."

"Speed, do you remember what the mother said?"

"Um, she said he's the teacher has him and she tried to stop him and he hates him."

"Word for word."

"Uh." Speed looked up at the ceiling and licked his lips, his eyes darting back and forth as he accessed the memory. "Word for word," he let out a hesitant sigh, "You asked where the boy was. She said the teacher has him. He hates him now. She tried to get away. I think."

Caine nodded as he thought. "Say it again."

"H, you were there."

Horatio lifted his eyes, his head still bowed, giving the younger man a look of mild rebuke.

"Okay. Uh..." he pushed the heels of his hands against his burning eyes, "You asked if the boy was with her, if he was hurt. She said his teacher's got him."

"Hang on a minute. The first time you said has him, that time you said got him. Which is it?"

Speed's eyes widened. "I don't know."

"That's okay. Let's look at this. Mom says the teacher has him. That could be interpreted several ways. Now, bear with me, what if the mother said the teacher got him."

"Meaning mom knows he was abusing children and thinks he abused Jacob." Calleigh voiced.

Horatio nodded, "Meaning mom knew. But..."

"We know that the teacher couldn't have taken Jacob. Hotel records and surveillance show he had checked in at 6:17." Speed said. "We also know the mother purchased the food at 6:04."

"Leaving 13 minutes." Horatio put the number out letting their eager if tired minds work at it.

"Not enough time to stab the mother, take the boy and get to the hotel." Eric said.

Horatio frowned, "So we need to find out who – who hates him. Speed, wasn't there something more than that?"

Speed nodded, "Yeah, she said hates him now."

"Now." Horatio stared out the window into the blackness beyond. "Meaning whoever has him didn't once."

"The father." Eric said with unabashed surety and began riffling through the papers he'd brought in with him.

"The father." Horatio echoed.

"Here." The young Cuban lifted a page. "I did a background check on dear ol' dad. Three arrests for domestic violence in the last two years. He also has two priors."

"Specify." Caine urged.

"Uh, first one, twelve years ago, aggravated assault. Bar fight. And uh, the second - he and four college buddies were arrested ten years ago. Waited outside a gay bar and..."

Horatio tipped his head. "And tortured a young man. I remember reading about it. I thought his name was familiar." Caine's jaw flexed with anger.

"Oh my God! He thinks the boy is..?" Calleigh's whispered revelation filled the room.

"Yep. Okay, here's what we're going to do, Speed, Eric go back to the home. We need something that will tell us where he is. Calleigh, I need you here with me going over the evidence we collected from the home earlier. Alexx, back to the mother's body."

The team dispersed moving like a well crafted machine.

"Gentlemen." Caine stopped them as they pushed through the door. "I need you to be careful out there. If he is at that house you do not enter until back up arrives. No matter how much we want to help this boy, you come first, no heroics. Am I clear?"

"Got it H." Eric answered somberly and Speed nodded.

"Keep me posted."

Horatio set down the papers he was working through and kneading his neck. The tick of the clock beat a steady counter rhythm to the throbbing of his head making the pages nearly impossible to read. He could feel the effects of no sleep tearing at him, breaking his concentration and fueling his anger and he wondered for the thousandth time how his team was doing. "Speed must be near impossible to deal with at this point." He muttered to himself, making a mental note to call the quietly temperamental young man soon. Worry thickened the already heavy buzz in his ears that threatened to shatter his cool exterior. It had been nearly an hour an a half since he had sent his overly tired team out in search of where a crazed father might take his son. And while he had been in close contact with them he worried that the lack of sleep would soon be too detrimental to continue. But he couldn't give up on the boy and he knew his team would not give up for him. Still, where to draw the line? When did the needs of those he supervised come before those of a six year old boy?

"Hey handsome."

Horatio opened his eyes. "Calleigh, I was just going to come find you. How are you holding up?"

"I was just about to ask you the same question."

Horatio gave a little laugh and wiped a hand across his face. "Ones like this make me doubt how good a CSI I really am." He confessed quietly.

"The best there is." She admonished without hesitation. "We'll find him."

"Thank you." He smiled, taking courage in her unwavering belief in him. "So, how are you?"

"I'm okay."

"And I believe you?" he said looking at the deep rings under her eyes that gave her pretty face a bruised look.

"Well isn't dry yet."

"Calleigh how far is to far?"

"As long as you've got something to give I will too."

"Calleigh, you don't have to anything prove."

"You don't understand." She answered softly, her eyes searching the papers stacked carefully in front of him. "Horatio, what's that?"

He looked to where she pointed. "This?"

"No, that one." She pointed to a small yellow sheet of paper.

"Looks like some sort of receipt." He handed it to her.

"Dues for something. I can't read it." She studied the slip for a minute. "Hey, do we know what the father does for a living?"

"Right here." Caine said, shifting through papers from the file Eric had left. "Landscape maintenance."

She leaned over his shoulder, perusing the file for herself. "On campus."

"Does that mean something to you?"

"I don't know." She pulled at her earlobe while she thought. "Wasn't there a big to do on campus a few months ago about an anti-gay club being organized?"

"Yes, yes there was. There was a protest against the school that got out of hand when the administration let the group buy a house off fraternity row." He threw the file down. "Good catch. Okay, I need you to call Speed. Get him and Eric in route and call out the cavalry. Tell them to use extreme, I repeat extreme caution. This guy will be like a cornered animal and go after the boy if he feels threatened." He slammed through the door at a near run, any traces of fatigue absent from his angry confident stride.

Caine pushed the heavy door open with his gun. With the moon being hidden by clouds the inside of the old house was pitch dark forcing him to hold his flashlight in one hand and gun in the other, uneasy and unsecure positioning at best. Heavy deep wooden stairs dominated the entrance hall leading to the rooms upstairs. A quick search of the entrance told Horatio the house was under renovation giving the suspect not only multiple places to ambush him but also virtually limitless weapons. He looked behind him at the empty street where his lone Hummer sat silent. It was a gamble going in by himself. Each of his team knew he wouldn't tolerate such recklessness from them - but the boy's life was at stake, if he was still alive. He dropped his aim slightly letting the light fall on the debris strewn floor and made the choice to enter the premises alone. He moved slowly, room by room taking each step with caution. A thin slip of light came from under a door at the end of the hall. He looked back again to the entrance now bathed in light from the nearly full moon slipping for a moment from its hiding place in the clouds and nodded. The storm that had hit so suddenly had dissipated just as quickly leaving only a hot muggy night that carried a feeling of unrest and agitation. The thin wail of sirens in the distance could already be heard, he didn't have much time left.

"Michael." Horatio's voice was soft but menacing as he pushed the door open. He held his gun firmly but with a slightly relaxed aim giving him more freedom with the flashlight. "Michael where's the boy?"

The man whipped around at his name, His eyes flashed wildly around the room, landing on the prone body of his son several feet away.

Caine lifted his gun getting a true aim and dared a glance at the child. His heart beat raced at the sight of the child's chest rising in oblivious sleep.

"Michael it's over now. We know about the teacher. He's been taken into custody. He won't hurt another child. I promise you that."

"That doesn't fix what he did to my boy." The young man hissed, his eyes flinching as they skimmed the small body.

"That might be true." Caine agreed calmly. "If..."

"I will not have a son that's gay!" He screamed overtop of Horatio.

"I understand." Horatio said, feeling his control over the situation slipping. "Michael, I need you to listen to me."

"The bible says they are an aberration in the sight of God."

"Your son did nothing wrong."

"That doesn't matter. That monster defiled him making my son something that disgusts me. God burned Sodom and Gomorrah. I can do no less."

"Michael I can't let you do that."

"Daddy?"

The small voice stole Horatio's attention for the merest flicker of a second - a flash longer than he could afford. He felt skin split and the heat of blood flood down his face as a wood plank connected with his temple. His gun flew from his hand landing at the father's feet. Through the vertigo that enfolded him he watched the boy's father pick up the fateful gift.

He fell to his knees grappling with consciousness. "Michael, don't."

Pop. Pop. Pop. The sound, through the rushing buzz that was quickly invading his consciousness, seemed no more than a child's toy. He swallowed hard, his grasp on reality slipping. "The teacher never touched him. You're boy was..." Blessed darkness stole him from the pain and he fell, his head coming to rest beside the tiny lifeless body, the boy's blood pooling like a crown turning his hair a deeper shade of red.