Miami. Present day:
"I'm sure you and Andy had much more interesting things to talk about than me," Horatio said quietly as he fiddled with the arms of his sunglasses.
"Don't worry, H. You weren't the only thing we talked about last night."
"I'm glad to hear it," he replied dryly.
"He's a good man; he's got a lot of knowledge about being a good cop."
"That's true, brother, he certainly taught me a trick or two," he smiled.
"Has he told you that he's thinking of setting up as a private investigator down here in Miami?"
Judging by the blank look on his face, Eric safely assumed that the other man had no idea what he was talking about.
Horatio couldn't help but feel a little hurt that Andy had divulged his plans to someone other than him and felt a pang of jealously that he wasn't the first to know.
That's because you've been spending too much time feeling sorry for yourself, old man, his subconscious goaded him.
"And I'm sure he'll be a very successful one if he decides to make a go of it…."
He was interrupted from his thought process as he caught a glimpse of Calleigh's flowing blonde hair as she marched down the hallway, probably intent on finding him.
It was at times like this that he wished he wasn't so tall and that his red hair didn't make him stand out as much as it did. It would be next to impossible to hide from Calleigh, especially when she was a woman on a mission.
He steeled himself for the chastisement that was to come as she made her way into the room; he took a deep breath and waited for her to begin.
"Eric, could you go and chase up the results of the autopsies for your case please?"
The Cuban saw the determined look on her face and quickly made a graceful exit from the room, just glad that he was not the centre of her attention right now.
"I'll go with him," Horatio said as he made his way to the door.
"Stay where you are," she commanded firmly before softening her tone, "Please."
He stood with his head bowed as he looked down at the sunglasses in his hand, glad to have them to occupy his attention.
"Firstly, you forgot this," she said as she handed him the wrist support and watched him strap it in place before rolling his sleeve back down.
"Secondly, I want to apologise for the way I spoke to you this morning. It was completely uncalled for; I had no right to say those things to you."
He hadn't expected that, and his face registered his shock.
"No, you were right, Calleigh. I've been entirely selfish, thinking about myself all the time."
He looked up and gave her a wry smile before returning his attention to his glasses.
"Alexx rang me earlier and gave me a piece of her mind."
"What did she say?" Calleigh questioned as she felt her heartbeat slow from the galloping pace it had set when she first entered the room.
"That I should talk to someone…professionally."
The way he said the last word almost made Calleigh laugh, he made it sound dirty and unsavoury.
"But you don't want to," she added as she kept her tone neutral.
He gave her a brief look again as he blushed slightly.
"It's not like I've done a bang-up job trying to deal with it myself so far."
Checking that the coast was clear, she leaned forwards and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.
"Thank you," she smiled at him before adding, "Are we good?"
He gave her a boyish grin, the one that she found so endearing about him.
"Always, sweetheart," he said as he squeezed her arms lightly and left the room.
"All good, H?" Eric asked as he saw his colleague make his way into the morgue.
He smiled and gave Eric a nod of the head before turning his attention to the body on the autopsy table.
"What have we got, Dr Loman?" he asked, his mask of professionalism firmly back in place.
"Ah, Lieutenant, good morning. What a lovely day it is outside, such a shame to spend it here with the recently departed."
"Indeed, Doctor. Do you have the autopsy results for us?"
The quirky M.E pushed his glasses further up his nose before gleefully beginning his assessment.
"I thought you'd never ask. It appears as if both Mr and Mrs Simpson were killed by two different weapons. Wound impressions suggest that it was some kind of knife that struck the fatal blow for both victims."
"Does it suggest murder/suicide?" Eric asked as he folded his arms over his broad chest.
Tom shook his head vigorously.
"There is no possible way for either of the victims to have stabbed themselves fatally; I think you're looking at another perpetrator, perhaps even two."
"What makes you say that, Doctor?" Horatio questioned as he viewed the female corpse side-on.
The M.E lifted the sheet and pointed to a wound on the woman's abdomen and then another further up her chest.
"The angles and depths of these cuts are different and the wound pattern is slightly different too, which would suggest that there were two different attackers."
"Any luck on narrowing down a murder weapon?"
"And where would be the fun in doing your job for you?" the doctor replied before walking away.
An unspoken moment passed between the two men as Eric collected the wound impression moulds from the autopsy tray before they made their way back to the elevator.
"Surely you didn't miss dealing with Dr Kooky in there, did you?" the younger man asked as they stepped inside.
"You'd be surprise what you miss when you're stuck in hospital, brother."
Flashback. Miami 8 weeks ago:
He sat up in the hospital bed with a magazine in his lap yet he couldn't seem to take much interest in it. In fact, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open after yet another gruelling session of walking the short distance around his room with Alexx for company.
He scowled as he thought of her; she seemed to be taking great delight from his inability to stand without assistance for more than a few seconds. Her triumphant smile as he wobbled after pushing himself too hard had irritated him with increasing frequency over the last few days.
Still, he was moderately satisfied that he could at least make it to the bathroom and back with minimal assistance now and it meant that he could finally get rid of the appliance that took care of those needs for him.
It seemed silly to be so grateful for something so small but it helped to rebuild what little self-confidence he had left. He finally had a small amount of independence and control over his own body and its functions, something he had took for granted before his abduction.
He still needed the assistance of another person to help him in and out of bed but he was able to take the shaky few steps from bed to bathroom on his own. His legs and balance became less shaky as each day passed and even though he hated Alexx for it at first he was glad that she had forced him into eating the bland tasting slop that passed for food in the hospital.
Most of the tubes and wires were gone, along with the majority of the drugs that they had been pumping into him for weeks and he had to admit to himself that his head felt clearer and his mind sharper these past few days.
With clarity came frustration, he was able to walk short distances and although his body was weakened his mind was still as sharp as ever. Able to think clearly for the first time in weeks meant that he had little else to do but sit and brood on what had transpired over the last six months and this lead to endless days and nights of running the memories over and over in his mind, trying to figure out what he could have done differently.
He was shaken from his reverence by a familiar, blue-eyed boy entering his room.
"Hey, Dad."
A smile immediately graced his face as he took in the sight of the boy that was fast becoming a fine young man.
"Son, it's good to see you. What are you doing here?"
"I came to see you," Kyle replied as he sat down beside the bed and placed a hand on his father's uninjured arm.
"You shouldn't be sitting here wasting time with me. You should be out with people your own age."
"Don't you think we've wasted enough time, Dad?"
The boy looked at him sadly.
"This wasn't the father-son time I had in mind," Horatio said quietly as his gaze dropped to his lap.
"Me neither, but they'll be plenty of time to do that when you're better. Any idea when they're letting you out of here?" the young man replied as he snagged a grape from the bowl by the bed and popped it in his mouth.
His countenance darkened as he once more cursed Alexx and her rules and regulations.
"Alexx says next week, if I behave," he said sourly.
"Well, we best make sure you're on your best behaviour then."
Kyle smiled as he saw his father's patented glare being flashed in his direction and felt a semblance of hope that the older man was finally regaining some of the essence of what made him such a powerful force.
"You and I are going fishing when you're up to it," he declared proudly.
"You fish?" Horatio asked before his face dropped, realising that there was still so much about his son that he didn't know. Too many years in the wilderness had prevented either man from getting to know the other in the way that a father and son should.
"One of my foster fathers taught me, we used to go fishing most weekends."
"I'm sorry, Kyle," he said quietly as he hung his head in shame.
"For what?"
"For missing some of the most important moments of your life. I never saw your first steps, your first day at school, graduation….."
Kyle picked his father's hand up and held it tightly.
"It doesn't matter now. We'll make new memories, ok?"
Horatio looked at his son shyly.
"I'd like that."
"Me too, Dad."
Nothing was said as they sat in companionable silence, until a dark thought crossed Horatio's mind.
"When do you have to report for your next posting?"
"Not for a while yet. I saw my commanding officer a few days ago and he's extended my leave for compassionate reasons. He said I wouldn't be much good to my unit if I was spending all my time worrying about you."
Kyle had said the words in jest but was alarmed by the look of shame that crossed his father's handsome features; he interjected before the other man could have time to berate himself.
"I worry about you because I care about you, everyone does. We're not going to stop caring about you just because you think this is all your fault. Let us help you."
"Kyle…..it's hard…."
"Then let me make it easy for you," he said as he reached over for the shaving can and razor on the bedside table.
"Let's give you a shave and then we'll go and get us some real coffee. Manly coffee, not that weak stuff in the vending machines here. I'm going to take you down to the canteen," he finished triumphantly.
"Thank you, son. You have no idea how much that means to me or how much I've missed it."
"What, real coffee?" he joked.
"No, spending time with you."
"And the coffee?" he repeated, smiling at his father who nodded his head in agreement.
"And the coffee."