He could feel their hands on him, hitting him, pushing him from one to the other as he struggled to stay on his feet. It wasn't long until he lost his balance and ended up face first on the floor.
He could hear them laughing at him as he struggled to free his injured arm from under his heavy body. Cringing as he heard the voices getting louder and the boots coming closer to him.
He was defenceless against them as he tried to absorb the stamping and kicking as much as he could, willing himself not to make a sound as they continued to abuse him.
His body seemed as if it was on fire as he felt them touch him, he couldn't bear for anyone to make contact with his over-sensitised skin. He curled himself into a ball as they came for him, again and again.
He opened his eyes quickly and found Calleigh staring down at him, a look of concern marring her beautiful face. It was only when he followed her eyes down to his groin that he realised what had happened.
He felt the sense of sheer shame wash over him as the realisation hit him; the vivid memories from his ordeal had caused him to fail Calleigh as a man. He felt horrified that he had embarrassed himself in front of the one woman who meant more than anything to him.
Pushing her roughly off of his unresponsive lap, he quickly scrambled from the bed towards the clothes he had been wearing earlier in the day. Pulling his pants and shirt on and doing them up in a haphazard fashion. He could hear her pleading with him to stop yet he continued on blindly in his single-minded quest to bolt from her presence as quickly as possible.
Racing down the stairs, he pulled on the first pair of shoes he could find and grabbed his keys before slamming the front door behind him and setting off down the driveway towards the road that led away from Calleigh, away from the house that he had begun to call home.
The hot, salty tears streamed from his eyes as he kept a furious pace along the deserted streets, wiping roughly at his face when his vision began to blur. In all of his sorry life he had never felt this ashamed of himself.
The men that had tortured and brutalised him had done more than just break his bones, they had broken his spirit too. A part of him wished that the team had left him to die out at sea, the man who had returned was not the man they knew or the man they deserved.
He was nothing but a pale imitation of himself, unable to maintain any sort of meaningful relationship with anyone. He knew that they could see behind the weak façade he had built around himself, they knew he was no longer a man they could depend on; he was becoming a liability to them.
Hatred flowed through him at his own complete inability to function as a normal, healthy man. Anyone in their right mind would have responded in kind to Calleigh's fervent assault on his body yet he himself was unable to give her what she wanted, what she deserved.
There had been many times over the past few months that she had told him that they would take it slow and that there was no rush for them to progress their relationship to the next level, but how long would it be before she tired of his pitiful existence?
She deserved to be loved by a man who could fulfil her carnal desires, not some weak and snivelling wreck who could hardly bear to be touched. It was no life for her, she deserved more, she deserved better than him.
He continued to wander in a anger-fuelled haze as he stomped his way through the less than respectable neighbourhoods of downtown Miami, he could see the looks the thugs on the street corners were giving him and yet couldn't seem to find a reason to care if they took it upon themselves to dish out a little of their own brand of justice on him.
She woke suddenly as the alarm on the bedside table made its presence known, groaning as she read the display. It had only been an hour or so ago that she had fallen into a worried and exhausted sleep, giving up hope that Horatio would ever return home to her after what had happened the previous evening.
Her first intention was to follow him as he bolted from the house, an idea that was only tempered by Alexx's warning words to her earlier in the day that Horatio was a proud and independent man. He needed time to cool off and come to his senses; to have her badgering him would only make the situation worse.
So she sat and waited, waiting all night until the need for sleep overcame her and she slumped towards the inviting presence of her soft pillows, praying that no harm had come to the man she loved.
Deciding to forgo a shower until she had administered her first dose of caffeine, she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, frowning when Moses was nowhere to be seen. Taking the milk from the refrigerator, she poured a bowl of milk and placed it on the floor.
Worry began to gnaw at her senses; making her way over to the lounge she was surprised to find a clothed figure asleep on the couch, the ratty old woollen blanket she kept on the back of it covering the slumbering form.
She let out a deep breath, relieved that Horatio had made it back home in one piece. She had seen just how shaken he had been by the incident last night and the longer he stayed out the more she became convinced that he would do something reckless to himself.
Moses seemed to have heard her enter the room as his small black head poked out from beneath the blanket as he regarded her with bright green eyes. The sight of the scrawny cat curled up protectively under the redhead's arm would have been funny had she not been so furious.
"Good boy, Moses," she said quietly as she walked closer to the couch.
The cat meowed in response, a noise that served to wake the slumbering man.
"Calleigh?" he groaned as he rubbed at his eyes first and then his neck.
"Where have you been?" she asked with more force than she was intending, causing Moses to make good on his escape and head for the kitchen in search of his breakfast.
Horatio sat up straight and threw the blanket to one side as he glanced down at his rumpled shirt and pants, realising that he still had his shoes on.
"I needed some air," he said vaguely as he ran a hand through his unruly hair.
"Have you any idea how worried I've been?"
He looked at her briefly and had the good grace to look slightly ashamed.
"Where have you been? What time did you come back?"
"I'm sorry, Calleigh, I just needed some space. I went for a walk, that's all."
He gave her such a pitiful look that she had to take a moment to remind herself why he had run from the house. He had already had so much emotional fallout to deal with and it appeared that his inability to function sexually had all but blown away the little reserves of strength that they had worked so hard to build up.
Her facial features and tone softened as she sat next to him on the couch, reaching out a shaky hand and placing it on his thigh.
"Why didn't you come back to bed?"
He shrugged.
"It was late; I didn't want to wake you."
"I barely slept; I was so worried that something had happened to you."
He placed a hand on top of hers and gave it a quick squeeze.
"Moses took good care of me when I came back, I'm sorry that I worried you. I'm sorry that I failed you, too."
"Horatio, what happened last night was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you when I knew that you weren't ready."
"Calleigh," he began patiently, "It was my fault, I'm sorry that I couldn't satisfy you. You deserved to be loved by a man who can fulfil your deepest desires, not some crocked old fool like me."
"But I want you, I want to be loved by you," she pleaded with him as she tried to make him see sense.
"Believe me, I want nothing more than to be able to give you what you want, but I can't. I'm damaged goods, Calleigh, can't you see that?"
"I can wait; I don't care how long it takes. We'll wait until you're ready."
"What if I'm never ready? What if I can never love you the way you want me to? The way I want to love you?"
He shook his head sadly as she watched the familiar slump of his shoulders as he trudged from the room and away from her.