"Come on, you drive," Eric said amiably as he tossed the keys to the Hummer to his reluctant partner.
Horatio shook his head and muttered under his breath as he pulled himself up into the vehicle's driver's seat.
"I know what you're doing, Eric"
The younger man looked at him angelically.
"You're trying to make me feel useful."
"Is it working?"
He gave Eric a wan smile.
"No."
The Cuban ignored his colleague's good-natured grousing.
"Do you know where we're going?"
"Biscayne Boulevard, let's go and see what Mr Fernandez has to say for himself shall we?"
Thirty minutes later Horatio pulled the cumbersome vehicle up to the curb in a rundown neighbourhood, the majority of the houses were surrounded by chain link fences and young groups of Hispanic men sat on their front porches with radios blaring and their gang-affiliated tattoos on full display.
He was grateful of the distraction of driving through the mid-morning traffic as it took his mind off of more pressing matters, namely the appointment he had at 4pm to talk to an old friend and colleague of Alexx's.
She had simply worn him down with her insistence that he visit the man she regarded as an expert in his field and having time on his hands would only lead him to question his judgement in agreeing to visit him in the first place.
His past experiences had taught him never to question fate or explore his feelings in any great depth, preferring instead to bury his emotions in the past and move on. It was a technique that had worked for him for many years until recently and now that his coping mechanisms were no longer working he was at a loss for what else to do.
Talking about his feelings was far too much like admitting his weaknesses to other people, something that he was loathe to do. No, it was better to put up a front and push away the thoughts and gestures of concern from those around you rather than face your demons head on.
The problem was that during his lengthy recovery there were many days when he simply had nothing else to do but sit and brood on his past and the choices that he had made, choices that inevitably led to his fall from grace.
And what a fall it had been, hindsight had burdened him with the ability to see what a fool he had been in underestimating the lengths the second generation of Malucci's would do to exact their revenge on him. During those weeks when Agent Collins had tried to warn him of their impending attack he had simply chose to ignore him, his ego had not allowed him to see the threat they posed until it was too late.
He had been left defenceless against them; his head injury had robbed him of his memory and left him clueless as to why the crime syndicate was targeting him. Once they had abducted him they had systematically tortured and abused him for days, demanding information that was impossible for him to give.
Would he have done things differently if he had been able to remember?
It was a question that still bothered him deeply even now, would he have given up the FBI agent in order to save his son, and would he have been able to live with the consequences if he had?
He had always prided himself on being a man of principle, a man who would stand firm in even extreme adversity and yet he knew that deep down in his heart that he would have betrayed all of his morals in order to protect his boy and it had led him to question how just a man he really was.
To trade one life for another, who was he to decide who had a right to live and who should die?
Thankfully, it was a choice that he had never had to make but the thought that Kyle could so easily have been killed still shook him to the core. If he could have at least remembered he would have been in a position to make a choice on the fate of his son and it was the lack of power and control that had wounded him the deepest. Had the assassination of Kyle been real he would've forever had to live with the guilt that he could have prevented it if not for the poor choices he had made.
Deep down he knew that his colleagues were right; he had lost the sense of perspective that had served him so well for so long, he'd spent too long brooding, going over every detail in order to decide if he should or could have done things differently.
Loathe as he was to admit it, he knew he was unable to move past it until he had faced his demons head-on and that he was unable to do it by himself. He'd been fiercely independent for so long that he had become reliant on only himself and to accept any form of help from others was viewed as a sign of weakness in his own eyes.
Ego and pride had come before his fall from grace last time and Horatio was a smart man if nothing else, a man who hoped that he was able to learn from his past mistakes.
Flashback. Miami 8 weeks ago:
"Today's the day, sugar," Alexx beamed as she entered the hospital room of her beloved friend.
Lying on top of the covers dressed in an old grey t-shirt and joggers, Horatio Caine returned the doctor's smile with one of his own.
"I have no doubt that you'll be pleased to get rid of me, Alexx."
Her smile faltered slightly as her subconscious threw the horrific images of Horatio when he had been brought in a little over six weeks ago at her. Although the wounds and injuries were healing Horatio still had a long way to go before he could even consider returning to his position at the lab.
The past few weeks had been hard on everyone, not at least Horatio himself and it had taken its toll on all concerned with his welfare and subsequent recovery. There were days when he had simply given in, days when he had been so consumed by his hopelessness that he would barely make the effort to engage with the people who visited him.
Being so reliant on others to take care of his most basic needs had been a bitter pill for the proud and independent lieutenant and his anger at his perceived helplessness would often by targeted at those around him but through it all they had held firm and refused to leave his side.
Although he was still shaky and weak, Alexx was happy that Horatio was in a position whereby the best place for him to continue his recovery would be in familiar and comfortable surroundings.
That left her with the next obstacle to overcome, convincing the stubborn man that he would still require the support and care of his friends if he were to leave the hospital. Horatio could be infuriatingly set in his ways, she loved the man dearly but she wished that she could make him see what a damn fool he was being at times.
Calleigh and Kyle were waiting patiently outside the room as she carefully gauged the injured man's mood before raising the subject of who would take care of him during his continued convalescence. Her experience in dealing with Horatio had taught her that it was best to deal with him on a one to one basis, having too many people trying to force their will upon him would only lead to him clamming up and refusing point-blank to do what was being asked of him.
"I can go home?" Horatio asked quietly as he pushed himself further up the bed, wincing at the pain in his ribs and the healing wounds on his abdomen.
"As long as you understand that someone will have to stay with you, for the first few weeks at least."
He looked as if he were about to object but was silenced by a fierce look from Alexx as his face, and his hopes, dropped at the thought, he realised that he had no one who would be willing or able to take care of him.
"Guess I'll be staying here a bit longer," he finally said, his voice no more than a whisper as he kept his head down.
"No, you won't."
He looked at her, clearly confused.
"Calleigh and Kyle are waiting outside to take you home. They'll be making sure you stay out of trouble."
His heart began to pound at the thought of Kyle being forced to take care of him on a daily basis, he had relented and allowed his boy to help him shave but it galled him to think of what else he would be required to do once he returned home with him.
So far, the nurses had attended to his more personal needs and he was oddly more comfortable with a stranger helping him than he was his own friends and family. A boy as young and innocent as Kyle should not be forced to help wash and dress his own father, it was simply not acceptable as far as he was concerned.
And that was to say nothing of Calleigh and how emasculated he would feel as she tended to his most private needs. His beautiful blonde bombshell deserved a young and vibrant partner, not some old and needy man who required round the clock care. How would she ever see him in a passionate light again?
"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," he said finally as he met the doctor's eyes.
"Why not?" she asked as she let out a frustrated sigh, placing her hands on her hips.
"Calleigh needs to run the lab and Kyle should be spending his time with people his own age, not his ailing father."
"But this is their choice, Horatio. They want to do it; you need to let them help you. They need to feel needed."
She could see the uncertainty in his face.
"This isn't just about you anymore; do you have any idea how helpless everyone felt when you'd been taken?"
She walked to the bed and sat down on the side.
"You're not the only one who needs to heal, sugar."
Miami. Present day:
"Hey, pigs," a deep Hispanic voice called from across the street.
Sat on the front porch were a group of young men, each muscular and heavily set as they smoked what looked like joints brazenly in front of the two officers as they made their way further along the sidewalk opposite.
"Hey, we heard all about you, Pappy. How those Guido's taught you some manners. We heard they made you bend over and take it like a bitch, not such a big man now are you, Caine?"
Horatio glanced quickly at his colleague and could immediately sense the other man tensing, balling his fists and itching for a fight.
"Leave it, brother," he said quietly as he kept his gaze straight ahead.
Eric pursed his full lips as he shot daggers at the men across the street.
"I'm not gonna let them talk trash about you, H."
"What's the matter, Red? Got nothing to say for yourself?" another voice taunted.
"H…" the Cuban pleaded.
He stood firm as he allowed the insults to wash over him. He'd been made aware just how much of a furore there had been over his abduction and subsequent rescue and it had only served to embarrass him further than he already had been.
There were no words that anyone could say to make him feel any less of a man than he had already been made to feel. Perhaps they were right; maybe he had lost his edge. Only time would tell one way or another.
Common sense prevailed over his need to protect his wounded ego. He and Eric were vastly outnumbered and it was highly likely that the gang members were all carrying weapons of some sort. It also struck him that perhaps he didn't have the courage or physical strength he once had, had he been alone he might have been tempted to take his chances but he refused to place another person he cared about in danger.
He stopped as he realised that Eric was a few paces behind him. He turned to look at the younger man.
"Eric. I'm not asking you again, leave it," he growled as he motioned to a house further down the street.
He let out a sigh of relief as his brother in law finally relented and followed him reluctantly into the front yard of their suspect's home.