A/N: I do not own CSI Miami or any of it's characters, affiliates...etc. This is just my imagination running with it! I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Three
The Alley
When they arrived back at the hospital, her room was cleared out and she was on a ventilator. His heart stopped for a moment as he stepped out and got a nurse. "What's going on with her?"
Looking down at the girl, she took a deep breath. "There was more internal bleeding that they didn't know about and it lead to an infection. She's having a hard time right now, so don't expect much."
Nodding, he sat down taking her hand. That had been the second time he'd been told not to expect anything. "Hang in there Watson. This time, it's my turn to get the information."
She wanted to answer him, but was too weak to do it. Plus there was something down her throat. Damn this irritating situation she was in. She hated being unable to move, or even respond to anything. She wished she could even just squeeze his fingers, but she couldn't make hers work. She was stuck, for all intensive purposes. She hated being stuck.
Looking up at Calleigh, she could see the rage in his eyes. "Her chart says they've got her on some seriously heavy antibiotics and the infection is what's causing the breathing problems."
"She shouldn't be dealing with this shit." he said through his teeth. "I want that bastard, and I want him now. Both of them!" There was so much malice in his voice that it made her look up.
He was getting attached. Something that happened to him rarely. Looking down at the kid, she was amazed at how tough she was. She was ghost white and looked like she'd lose a fight against a blade of grass. But there was a strength in her that just radiated. There was a will and a fight in her that couldn't be denied, even now.
It was two hours later and he hadn't even noticed that Calleigh had left. Squeezing the girl's hand, he shifted and inhaled when he felt a squeeze back. His gaze going to her face, he saw her eyes fluttering before finally opening a little.
The look on her face for a second was sheer panic and misunderstanding.
Getting in her face, he bent closer. "Easy Watson. You're alright. Take it easy, sweetheart. Breathe."
She stopped fighting and felt when her body go limp with an odd exhaustion. She heard him hit the nurse button and there was someone beside her, pulling the tube from her throat.
It was a long two days after that before she could get much past her lips. She opened sluggish eyes to see a familiar blond beside her. "Betty."
Her smile was unmistakable and infectious. "Hey sweetie. How are you feeling?"
"Tired." she replied quietly.
"I'm sure you are. You should be able to get out of here soon if you're feeling better."
"I hope so. I'm not used to being holed up in a hospital."
"Speaking of, do you have a place to stay when you get out of here?"
Shrugging slightly, she looked in her eyes. "I'm sure I'll figure something out. I always do."
"Would you consider letting us put you someplace safe, until we can figure out who did this to you?"
She blinked a long blink. "I have nothing to offer in return." she said softly.
"This isn't something that would be for...it's for protection."
If she was going to be honest, she needed protection. She just didn't want anyone knowing about what happened to her at night when she dreamed. Lost in her own thought, she came back to reality when she felt a hand touch hers. Inhaling sharply she nodded. "Okay. But only until whoever did this to me is found. Deal?"
Nodding, she softly smiled. "Deal."
Horatio walked into the room half an hour later. "How are you doing, sweetheart?"
Smiling, she looked at him. "I'm alright. Ready to get out of this bed, but I'm alright."
"I have no doubt. So where are we going to put you when you get out of here?"
"I haven't thought too much about it honestly. I don't really know anyone..."
Nodding thoughtfully, he sat down after Calleigh stood to leave. "How about you stay with me, until we figure out a better solution."
She stared at him for a long moment before looking away. If she did that, she would only owe him, and it wouldn't be a hotel or anything that she would owe him additionally for. Looking back into his eyes, she nodded quickly. "Until we can figure out something else." she finally replied softly.
It was the next day when she was finally released and out of there. Calleigh had brought her three outfits and she had chosen the most comfortable, consisting of a pair of jeans, a button down cotton black shirt and tennis shoes.
Pulling into his driveway, the first thing she noticed was the smell of the ocean. The man had some money, she had to admit that. Which made her feel worse for staying. Timidly following him through the door, she stopped as soon as she entered the living room, and froze in place.
Stopping himself, he turned to her. "Watson?"
She looked into his eyes and didn't say a word as she swallowed.
Reading the intimidation in her eyes, he stepped toward her and offered his hand. "You're not going to break anything. And if you do, I'm sure it's nothing that can't be fixed."
Stopping, she looked around. "You're sure?"
Nodding, it was impossible not to feel frustrated and irritated for what she'd been through to cause her to feel the way she did. "I'm sure, sweetheart."
Stepping farther into the living room, she noticed a fish aquarium, and unable to stop herself, she stepped next to it and stared at it in absolute fascination.
He watched her face and the expressions crossing it as she watched the fish in awe. It was not possible to keep from smiling at her as he watched her staring. He watched her curiosity for close to ten minutes, as she lost herself in the water and creatures within.
She finally spoke. "I've never seen most of these fish before."
Still smiling, he nodded. There were six different kinds of fish and fourteen in all in his aquarium. "It's a salt water aquarium so it allows for more exotic fish. There's also a couple of Peppermint Shrimp in there too. They pretty much keep it clean."
She stood there for another couple of minutes trying to find them.
"They liked to hide in the treasure chest."
Looking where he suggested, she was amazed that she found both of them.
Cocking his head to the side, he took a step toward the kitchen. "You want to see the rest of the place?"
Clearing her throat, she straightened out. "Yea...yeah. Sorry. I was just...I've never seen..." then she shook her head. "Never mind." and she headed toward where he was.
Not pushing, but saddened that she was so closed off, he took a deep breath and showed her the rest of the house, including the room she would be staying in, and the bathroom she would have use of. "Feel free to move about the house, I've got lots of channels on the television." then he looked toward her again. Absolute trepidation. "You'll be safe here. No one knows where I live and unless someone followed me, no one but Calleigh even knows you're here."
She was surprised that it did make her feel better. The knowing that no one knew she was even there, actually helped her breathe better. Whoever was after her had done an number on her intentionally trying to kill her. And remembering back to when her dad had died, it was hard to think of a time that she'd ever been this scared of dying.
"Watson?"
She took a deep breath in sharply. "I'm fine."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Closing her eyes, she softly shook her head.
"Alright. Well you get settled, I'll fix something to eat. Okay?"
Turning, she nodded. "Okay." she whispered.
Poor kid looked like she was totally out of her element. He wondered if she felt that way when she'd stayed at the hotel a few weeks back. Damn if he hoped she didn't. He could, to some extent, understand her hesitation in the matter, if that was why. And that bothered him. After the way he'd grown up, he'd always tried to make sure that no one ever felt like they couldn't achieve the world if they wanted it.
And this kid, surprisingly, didn't want the world. But damn if she didn't want to live. From what he could see, she loved to learn, she loved to explore, and she retained everything she took in. She was smart, and she was quick to learn. But she was hard. She'd lead a hard life and trusted no one at all. Something he could both understand and empathize with.
She came awake, breathing hard and hoping like hell he hadn't heard her. This nightmare had been rough. Being frozen in the bed, and trying like hell to calm her breathing, she waited until she was sure no one was around, then instinctively, she grabbed her pillow, curled herself into the space, and slept in the closet.
When her eyes opened again, the red head was squatted down in the floor, with the door open. "Watson?"
"Duracell?"
She was curled up under a blanket with the pillow and herself in the back corner. "You okay?"
Getting her surroundings, she used a shaky hand to brush the hair from her face. Unable to get much past her lips at the moment, she nodded, hoping it would be enough.
She was disoriented at first and now, just seemed embarrassed and needed her space. Backing up a bit, he offered his hand to her for support. "I have to admit, I've never known anyone to sleep in a closet."
Without thinking, she cleared her throat. "I was locked in the closet the night my dad died. Cops found me a few hours later. My dad told me I would be safe in there, even though I'd already been stabbed." and she shrugged. "Sometimes I dream about it, and I wind up in the closet." she finished off softly.
Taking her hand gently, he helped her out of the floor. "Come on, sweetheart. Lets get you some breakfast."
Taking a deep breath and following him, she went to the kitchen and sat at his breakfast bar as he made her some eggs and toast, then handed her the plate. Looking at him she noticed that he was already dressed in his suit. "Going somewhere?"
Nodding, he glanced at her. "I have to go to the lab for a bit this morning. But I should be back before noon."
"Sure you can trust me that long without supervision? I did steal your credit card."
Smiling, he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "First, you and I both know, you're in no condition to move around a whole lot." and he turned to where he was looking her dead on. "Second, you paid me back, as well as gave my card back the next morning. Third, for whatever reason, and understand that I am in no way arguing or going to complain about it, you seem to trust me." and he held his hand up as he continued. "Even if it is in the smallest amount. It's not complete trust, but at this point, I'll take what I can get."
"Why?"
"Because. As you so eloquently put it a few weeks ago, I'm peculiar."
She studied him. She wasn't sure what it was about him that she did trust, but he had been dead on there. If she hadn't trusted him a little, she would have never jumped in his truck. And she had trusted him. At least in some fashion. Trusted him to know he would take care of her when she was injured. Trusted him not to throw her to the wolves every time he'd helped her. Trusted him to be in his house now.
"You look very deep in thought."
She nodded. "You're right. And I'm not going anywhere. I'm sure I can get along for a while on my own. Though I have to be honest, I'm not real comfortable in situations and places like this."
"Like this?"
She looked around. "Lets face it, you're not hurting for much, if anything. And that's not a bad thing, but when you're used to nothing, even a little something is a lot."
"Oh." he said, finally understanding what she was saying. Not sure of what else to explain, he shook his head. "I don't really know what to say. I'm a creature of comfort." and he took a drink of his coffee, setting the cup back down. He studied her expression this time. She was serious. She was uncomfortable. She was scared to be anywhere there were nice things, no matter where it was. No. Correction. Not scared. Wary. Very wary. Finally taking a deep breath, he turned, put his empty cup in the sink and headed for the door. "I'll be back in a few hours. Maybe less if I can peg down my perp."
Nodding, she took a deep breath and looked down at her plate.
He put his hand on her shoulder. "You are safe here, sweetheart."
She shook her head but smiled sadly. "I'm not safe anywhere. But thanks anyway."
"I hope you know I would keep you safe no matter what happened."
Shaking her head again, she half laughed. "It's not you." and she stood up, putting her plate in the sink after scraping it off.
"You didn't eat much."
"I never do." she whispered.
He was damn sure going to change that if he could. Walking out of his door, he locked it with the key and headed into work.
Inside, Chase padded bare foot to the couch and grabbed the remote control. Looking around his place, she was really glad that he didn't seem to exploit his things like most people did. He had nice stuff, but he didn't flaunt it. He simply let the space speak for itself.
When he got back home four hours later, he walked in quietly as to not disturb her if she was napping. He was right. She had been asleep on the couch. Poor kid looked so tired. She looked like she could sleep for a week. But it didn't look as though it was restful.
The doctor had told him in the hospital that as strong willed as she was, if she didn't take it easy and rest, she was going to collapse from exhaustion and she had still yet to really take time for herself. The entire time in the hospital she'd been focused on getting out, and finding out about the murder, even though she'd been told by both Horatio and Calleigh to back off. She'd gotten up and pushed herself to get better, when all she really needed was a few days to just sleep and laze about.
Admittedly, he'd been glad that she'd taken him up on his offer to stay with him. At least, even if it wasn't the most comfortable for her, he could make sure she didn't push herself too hard. Setting his keys on the counter top, he turned and took a deep breath. She was dreaming.
The moment that thought was out of his head, she sat straight up and gasped in for air. Taking a few steps he was beside her quickly. "Watson?"
Getting her whits about her she looked into his concerned gaze. "I'm okay."
She wasn't okay. She was clearly shaken, looked like she had seen a ghost and was pale and wide eyed. "I don't think so, sweetheart." and he stood up, got her a glass of water and set it beside her as she took a few moments to calm down and gather herself.
"Thank you." she whispered when he gave her the liquid. It felt good going down and she was grateful he gave her a few moments of space. But she could see the look in his eyes and knew what was coming next. Before he even got the words out of his mouth, she took a deep breath. "I hate sleeping. Every time I do, I dream."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She shrugged, then swallowed. "My dad was sick. This was about five years ago I guess. And he was trying really hard to provide, but he was having a hard time, and got fired. We'd already been living on the streets for a couple of years so I pretty well knew the ropes." then she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes. "Stupid mistake." then she cleared her throat. "I asked this guy Tony about what had happened one night when his cronie went after someone who owed them drug money. I was asking around for a dirty cop, and he was onto me. I should have known." and she shrugged once more. "I went and met this cop, told him what I'd been told, which had been a set up and got him killed. I played right into his plan and led him right back to our room. He stabbed me in the hallway of the rat hole motel room we'd stayed in for the night, and I staggered in after he'd just about finished with my dad. He'd left but told him that he was sending back someone to finish the job. That's when my dad shoved me into the closet because he heard something."
He watched her tremble lightly telling her story. "You were only twelve."
Not looking at him she stared at the floor in front of her. "Old enough to know."
Curious about who she was talking about and trying to remember back that far himself, he knew that he wasn't about to ask her any more about it unless she volunteered it. This had plainly, and for obvious reasons, traumatized her then.
Gazing into his eyes, she closed hers in a long blink before opening them, moisture laden. "I don't remember his name. It's part of what's blocked."
"Do you ever remember?"
She shook her head. "Not really. But sometimes I dream, and I'll remember something that's been blocked, because of the dream."
Staring at her for a long moment, he took a breath. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"You're extremely intelligent. What type of schooling have you had?"
Unsure how to proceed, she decided honesty was best when it came to him. Not sure why, but she trusted he wouldn't look down on her. "I remember everything I read. And I'm very perceptive, as you've so put it recently. I think about everything and I don't take anything for granted. Well, I try not to. So when I hear something, or I see something, I try to retain it in case I need it." then she shrugged. "I haven't been to school in a traditional sense in years, and I don't have a diploma." Then she added in a whisper. "But I'm not stupid."
"I know you're not stupid. I never in a million years would consider you stupid. Even if you don't have a simple piece of paper that says so."
She believed him. She trusted that. Not sure why, she glanced up and stared at him for a long moment. Smiling sadly, she rested her chin on her knee. "Stupid that I wish I had that piece of paper huh?"
Putting his hand on her other knee, he maintained eye contact. "Not at all, sweetheart. Maybe once this is said and done, I can help you with that?"
Her eyes filled with hope, for a split second. "Do you really think I could?"
Before the hope was shaded, he nodded solemnly. "Absolutely. You strike me as the type that can do whatever she puts her mind to."
Catching even herself off guard, she leaned her head down, looking out the balcony sliding glass door that lead to his porch and asked. "Do you believe that we meet certain people in our lives for a reason?"
Thinking about it for a moment, he nodded, still looking at her face, even though she'd stopped looking at him. "I think so. Everyone who crosses our paths in life, leaves some sort of mark on us, that we carry through with us to the end."
"I think I'm glad you caught me that night in the alley."
Nodding himself, he followed her gaze to the ocean as the high tide rolled in. "I think I am too."
