23.
Nodding at the officer positioned outside Schell's room, Horatio paused just inside the doorway, appalled at what he saw beyond. Enough so that he looked away a moment, collecting his thoughts. The memory of their meeting in another hospital failed to escape him, only this time Schell was more seriously injured than the last. He looked back at her, swallowing thickly, his concentration suddenly focused on the sunglasses in his hands.
Only now she knew things about him he would have given anything in the world to prevent her from knowing. His eyes looked troubled as he gazed around the room as he continued trying to process what Stetler had told her. His gaze finally rested on Schell.
There was bruising on her face and neck and her lip was swollen where she had been cut by the impact of the air bag. The tubes running from the IV in her hand and the oxygen in her nose added themselves to the troubling images of what he had seen at the accident site. A look of anguish and torment crossed his features.
Still resting upright, Schell appeared to be asleep, having tugged the blanket up closer around her neck with her good hand. She looked grey with fatigue.
Hesitantly, Horatio entered the room and silently made his way to the bed. The effect of carefully studying her battered face left him very close to losing his allegedly iron grip on his emotions. He carefully reached over and set his sunglasses on the nightstand next to her bed, before he tentatively reached up to gently grip her good hand in his. A part of him loathed to wake her, but another part of him wanted to see her eyes open and looking at him.
As he wrestled with the knowledge that Rick had deliberately grilled her about the things in his life he would have wanted to keep her from, an overwhelming sense of guilt suddenly added itself to the mix as he stared at her battered features. He should have followed through on that niggling hunch about the Seattle cases. This should never have happened. He should have been able to protect her from this accident.
While struggling with the turmoil, he was barely aware that he was a hairsbreadth away from tearing up when Schell's hand gripped his own and he watched as she drew in a breath, struggling to open her eyes. It didn't happen very often, but he was at a loss for words as she blinked to focus on him.
Seeing who it was, Schell pulled her hand from his grip, and reached up to set her hand on his shoulder. Then, with effort, she both tugged him down and pulled herself up. His reaction was instant. Gingerly he drew her close, mindful of the broken collarbone as he wrapped his arms around her, and set on the edge of her bed. Schell slipped her arm under his then slid it up his back, to grip a handful of his jacket before she lay her head wearily on his other shoulder. Horatio threaded his fingers into her hair, cradling her head and burying his face in the crook of her neck.
Neither one could speak.
How much time passed as the two simply held on to one another he didn't know, but when Horatio felt Schell's grip on his jacket loosen, he realized she was either falling asleep, or the drugs were reclaiming their hold on her system. With infinite care, as if he held a child, he slowly lowered her back into the bed. When her hand slid down his back, he pulled away, to both catch her hand in his and rest his other hand against the uninjured side of her face. At first he thought that she was asleep as he searched her face, her eyes tired and bruised.
He was about to pull back when she clutched at his hand again, started to open her eyes and managed to whisper, "No."
"Shh…" he hushed softly, gently stroking her hair back and clutching her hand in return. "Just sleep, Schell," he whispered.
She struggled to open her eyes anyway. They were watering or tearing up, he couldn't tell which, but he was about to do the same as she focused on him.
"Don't go, please?" she whispered, searching his eyes.
He forced a smile, "I won't, I won't go," he murmured to her, "I'll stay right here."
"I'm sorry…" she managed to murmur, causing him to frown.
"Sorry?" he asked, frowning. "You've no reason to be sorry, sweetheart."
"I think I was speeding…" she whispered, obviously fighting the drugs trying to lure her back to sleep. "Alexx told me Lionel died… I didn't know I was going so fast..."
Horatio blinked rapidly, listening to what she was saying. Gently he shushed her again, still stroking her hair and gazing at her. "It wasn't your fault, Schell, believe me, it wasn't your fault…" he heard his own voice crack as a voice inside his skull whispered that if it was anyone's fault it was his own.
Her felt her hand in his move a little as she let go to reach up and touch his face. "If I had known what you were going through?" She said slowly, obviously struggling with the drugs in her system, "I'd have never said what I did to you the night of the party."
He blinked, looking away a moment in confusion as he took in what she said. "Schell...?" he asked. "The party?"
"I didn't know, Horatio..." she whispered.
Confused at first, Horatio took a moment to understand her meaning. Rick's brutal revelation about Horatio's problems. He shook his head in negation. "Schell, don't be sorry…" he pleaded in a soft voice. "Don't worry about these things now, all right? You need your rest. Can you do me a little favour?" he asked gently, looking at her and squeezing reassurance through her hand.
She gazed at him, a tiny frown knit between her brows. Smiling gently he said, "The last thing you need right now is to be worrying about what he said to you about me. You've been in a wreck, you need to just relax and get some rest. We can talk about this later, okay? Sweetheart, you need to sleep," he emphasized.
She searched his face. "I need you more…" she whispered, "Please, don't go."
Only Alexx Woods had ever seen Horatio nearly lose his composure, and that had been the day he had seen Rachel Turner in her morgue. As he stared down into Schell's face, he very nearly lost it now. She saw his jaw begin to tremble as he struggled against the turmoil raging inside of him.
"Horatio," she whispered, her own eyes puddling up as she ran a thumb lightly over his lower lip. "You don't need to worry about this either…" She smiled sadly at him, reaching up to stroke his sideburn. "Don't think that what he told me is gonna effect how I feel about you. He did this on purpose. It's not gonna work."
Somewhere in the depths of her dark blue, drug dulled, eyes, he could see a hint of that steely determination he had always sensed was under her gentle exterior. With a tender, heartbreaking smile, he leaned forward and kissed her.
It was the faintest of kisses, butterfly soft and lingering long; his lip catching the uninjured side of her own, but it packed the deepest of compassion. When at last he broke off, he gently kissed her cheek and pulled back to see her fight to open her eyes. She was about to speak, when he shook his head at her.
"Not now..." he said gently, but firmly. "We have time, sweetheart, we'll talk more later. Right now?" He smiled softly and set his hand against her cheek. "Right now, you can hardly keep your eyes open. Just sleep for me, okay? I won't go anywhere. Not unless I'm paged, all right?"
The smile she gave him touched a chord deep inside of him and he could see a well of the subtlest love behind it. Horatio leaned forward again and caught her lip between his, drawing a soft sigh from her. He pulled back, and slipped off the edge of her bed. Snagging the available chair with his foot, he drew it up to her bedside, then, before he sat down, he took her hand in his again.
"Just close your eyes..." he whispered.
She gave him a slight smile, and promptly disobeyed. She needed to see his response to her next question. "Are you all right?"
Horatio gazed at her in mild surprise, his brows rising, and it suddenly struck him that he couldn't tell who was drawing strength from whom. Squeezing her hand, he nodded. "I will be..." he murmured. "This was just... unexpected is all. At least I know you're going to be fine. Your doctor assures me of that. And I will do whatever I have to, to keep Rick Stetler away from you."
The pain machine she was hooked up to intravenously was set to give automatic doses and he could hear the device operating. She nodded, her eyes barely open as she considered what he said, "I know you will..." and she gave him a slightly lopsided smile.
Horatio was about to reply when he saw her slowly losing the battle with the drugs being pumped into her body. She simply couldn't keep her eyes open any longer. He drew the blankets up closer around her neck and she moaned softly. He waited until her fingers lost their grip on his own, before he slowly sat down and studied her face.
A short time later, Dr. Alcalá, making her rounds, poked her head in the door and paused. It was silent in the room, save for the noises of machines, and she could see that her patient was sound asleep. Horatio was still sitting there, eyes closed, his hand holding Schell's. He sat forward in the chair, his other hand holding up his head which was bowed as if in prayer. His shoulders were hunched and Alcalá could tell that there was a great deal of stress riding on them. With a slight smile, Dr. Alcalá walked off. At least she had something to tell her coroner friend; that her 'hunch' was right.