A.N: Again, just another warning that some readers might find this chapter a little upsetting.
She saw him bound to a metal chair, the hand that held the camera moved backwards and forwards in a shaky fashion but the identity of the occupant of the chair was obvious. She sucked in an involuntary breath as she studied his bruised and battered features, his face bloodied and swollen and a testament to the harsh treatment he had been subjected to. Glancing further down she took in the sight of his torn t-shirt and the blood that stained the bare patches of skin that she was able to see.
Two bulky frames came into view but their faces were frustratingly hidden from the camera, all that was visible of the two men were their black t-shirts and jackets, the only face she could see, that of Horatio. It seemed like she could almost sense his pain as she saw him hiss as he was grabbed forcefully by the shoulders, gripping the phone harder she stole another quick look at Kyle.
"Kyle, I don't think it's a good idea for you to see this, maybe you should step out of the room," she suggested.
He shook his head furiously in response, "I'm staying," he said with conviction as he kept his eyes on the small screen of the phone, watching as his father was thrown to the floor.
"Don't forget to smile for the camera," a voice behind the phone taunted.
Kyle thumped a fist down on the table as he watched as his father was mercilessly set upon by the two unknown figures. After what seemed like an eternity the beating stopped and Horatio lay on the floor gasping and trying to catch his breath.
The two of them watched in horror as Horatio was dragged onto his left side, head facing towards the camera. It was then that they saw the bruised and swollen fingers, clear evidence that the redhead had been tortured by his captors. Kyle swallowed thickly as he saw one of the men hold his father's left arm out and held it in place in front of him.
Suddenly the angle of the camera changed as the man behind it moved closer to his hapless victim. "Just thought we'd let you know that we're taking good care of your boy here, we'll tell you where you can find the body when we've finished with him," the cold voice taunted again.
Within seconds something wooden flashed across the screen and then the sound of something hard and unforgiving striking flesh before the man lying on the floor let out a harsh scream. Within seconds the screen went blank.
Neither of them spoke or moved, both too shocked and trying desperately to comprehend what they'd just seen. Calleigh knew that she would never be able to get the image of Horatio being tortured out of her mind, the sound of wood hitting flesh and bones cracking would stay with her until the day she died.
She took another glance at Kyle who had stood rooted to the spot, staring at the cell phone on the table. The poor boy had already seen too much horror in such a short life, in foster care, in prison and then in the Army in the middle of a warzone. Throughout all those times he was able to separate himself from the things he had seen, it was the only way he knew he could survive. This time it was different, this time he had stand back and watch helplessly as the man he had grown so close to was beaten by a bunch of cowardly criminals.
He felt the blood begin to boil in his veins and cursed the fact that he did not have his Army-issued service weapon on him, the urge to shoot something, anything, was becoming increasingly hard to resist. He had no idea how his father did it, how he managed to keep his cool even under the most trying of circumstances when all around him lost their heads. How could his father see past the red mists of rage that he himself found so hard to control?
It was one of the reasons he had grown so close to his father since he had first met him those difficult few years ago. Their first meeting had been awkward and painful, neither knowing what to say to the other. He'd been in and out of foster homes and trouble since he'd been taken into care as a young boy. To realise that he had a father and that he was a man he could be proud of came as something of a surprise to Kyle, he hadn't realised how much he'd needed his father's stability until then.
Things hadn't always been easy since those early days, both took time to work the other out, but he knew his father was a man of conviction and honour and a man he could trust. He hoped one day he might be half the man his father was and he knew that in order to achieve that he would need to adopt some of the older man's steely resolve and determination.
He stood next to Calleigh and looked directly into her eyes, no words were spoken between them, the look they shared said it all.
The throbbing sensation in his arm brought him back to consciousness with some force, groaning as he lifted his head he tried to make sense of what had happened to him. The last thing he could remember was a flash of something wooden and then an unending and blinding pain that flashed through his left arm and shot up towards his shoulder. He knew he must have passed out after that, he bit harshly on his bottom lip as he once more found himself bound to the metal chair.
The blinding light was back, even as he squinted and then closed his eyes he could not black out the intense light and heat that radiated from a short way across the room. He could feel the perspiration beginning to form on his face as the temperature in the room increased, he knew what his captors were doing, trying to make him beg for mercy but he refused, he would not give them the satisfaction.
Something deep within him began to stir, a strength and sense of conviction that he hadn't known he'd possessed. Calleigh had placed her faith in him and even though he wasn't sure why she felt he deserved it he knew that he at least owed it to her to try to fight to survive for as long as he could. Each time his captors came to torture him he would stand firm and concentrate on the image of the beautiful blonde woman in his mind, the thought of her would block any physical pain that he was made to withstand.
Just as the scorching heat in the room was becoming too much to bear the room suddenly descended into darkness as the fan kicked in again, providing a blessed relief. Gradually the temperature in the room dropped until it started to become painfully cold, he felt the shivers begin to course through his body as the darkness seemed to close in on him.
The pattern continued for what seemed like hours, blinding light followed by scorching heat then complete darkness and freezing temperatures. The constant changing of his environment left him feeling disorientated and weak, the thirst becoming almost more than he could bear. He wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to hold out before he begged for his captors to bring him some water.
Letting his head drop to his chest, the strength he felt earlier began to wane. His mind urging him not to give in as his tired and dehydrated body begged for mercy. Sitting in the darkness as another shiver coursed through his body he opened his mouth to call out to his captors just as he felt the warmth of a hand on his face.
"Don't give up, Horatio. You can fight this," a beautiful and melodic voice spoke to him as a soft hand continued to caress his face.