He'd climbed into the Hummer with simply no idea where he would go or what he would do. His mind centred on just one thing, getting as far away from everyone as possible.
There were no words, no justification for what had happened at the warehouse. His colleagues, and the innocent young girl, were depending on him to take decisive action but he had stood there, frozen.
Had Ryan not had the presence of mind to wound and disarm the perpetrator, the outcome could have been very different indeed and he knew deep within himself that the blame would have been rightly placed squarely at his door.
He had led his team into numerous dangerous and risky situations and had always prided himself for leading from the front. It was what he did, he could never send his people into battle, he'd lead them there instead.
He drove blindly as images from his past and present haunted him, driving even though he had no idea where he would go.
Was this what it felt like to lose your mind?
The voices, the images, the smells, sights and sounds. They were all falling in on him, hounding him until he wanted to beg for mercy. He had grown tired of listening to his cell phone ring, knowing that it would be Calleigh or Eric calling, trying their best to talk some sense into him. He turned it off and threw it carelessly in the back of the vehicle as he pressed his foot further down on the accelerator, ignoring the other drivers who honked their horns indignantly at him.
It could have been minutes or hours, but eventually he found himself high up on a hillside with nothing but blue skies above and choppy waters and jagged rocks below. He killed the engine and rested his head on his arms against the steering wheel as he tried vainly to block the world out around him, ignoring the crackle of the radio as Dispatch tried reaching him over and over.
"CSI One, please respond. Over," the message repeated again and again until he could not stand to listen to it any longer. Reaching across, he switched it off and placed his head back down against the steering wheel.
He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below, trying to centre his mind and control his thumping heart. The longer he sat there the more he was sure that what he was about to do was right.
Turning the key in the ignition once more, he had prepared himself mentally for what he was about to do. He was interrupted from his thoughts by the passenger door of the Hummer opening.
"Calleigh," he sighed as he hung his head.
"I tracked the Hummer's GPS, before you ask."
He said nothing as he nodded his head slightly.
"Eric told me what happened."
He refused to look at her, he felt ashamed enough of himself without her giving him a pitying look.
"You know what I have to do then," he responded after an achingly long pause.
"You don't have to do anything. As far as I'm concerned, nothing happened."
His head shot up as he turned to look at her.
"Calleigh, I froze. I could have got everyone killed."
"Will you tell me what happened?" she asked quietly.
"I was trying to talk him down….he'd let the girl go and lowered his weapon…Ryan spooked him."
He sighed and rubbed a weary hand over his face.
"He was aiming right at me….all I could see were the faces of everyone I've ever loved…..Benny had a gun pointed straight at them…he shot them and I couldn't move, I couldn't stop it….I froze."
He looked at her with such pain-filled eyes that she felt as if her heart would shatter to hear him bare his soul to her.
Alexx was right; this was something that neither of them could deal with alone. Whatever the Malucci's had done to him it had changed something in his very essence. The man before her was simply going through the motions of the person he used to be, so consumed by fear and self-hatred that he had lost whatever it was that made him Horatio.
It suddenly dawned on her why Horatio had driven to such a place, high up on a hill with nothing but sharp rocks and rough seas below.
Had he come up here to end it all?
Did he really feel so hopeless that he could no longer see a way out?
"What are you doing up here, Horatio?" she asked nervously, scared of the answer he might give her.
He shook his head and sighed.
"I don't know…I just drove….I ended up here, seemed as good a place as any."
"Please tell me you weren't thinking about driving over the edge," she responded as she felt the breath leave her body with some force.
He glanced at her briefly and gave her a sad smile, before shaking his head once more.
"Probably would have been for the best if I did. I'm nothing more than a liability to you all now."
She leant over and cupped his face in both of her hands.
"Don't ever talk like that. I can't imagine what you're going through, but we'll get past this, I promise you."
He screwed his eyes shut.
"It's never going to end, Calleigh. They broke me…."
"Open your eyes, Horatio."
He refused to obey her command.
"Look at me," she demanded more firmly as she increased the pressure of the hands cupping his cheeks.
Finally, he relented.
"I love you; nothing is ever going to change that. We're going to fix this, ok?"
She held him tightly as she dragged his tired and defeated boy towards her, kissing the top of his head tenderly as he clung to her warm and inviting body, as if somehow sensing the love and protection that her embrace would bring.
Flashback. Miami, 8 weeks ago:
Kyle had retreated to his bedroom over an hour ago; the stress and strain of the day had taken its toll on the poor boy as he tended to his father throughout the afternoon and early evening. They had decided to take it in shifts to care for the stubborn and angry man who was currently residing in Calleigh's master bedroom.
Seeing the scowl marring the Horatio's face for most of the day had caused her to question whether she and Kyle were doing the right thing by bringing him here and trying to care for him. Neither of them had very much in the way of any experience of looking after someone as badly injured as Horatio had been.
The men that had taken him had hurt him so badly, the injuries so severe that he had spent the last six weeks in hospital. Although the wounds were healing it had left Horatio so tired and weak that he could barely lift himself out of bed without support.
And it was that fact that caused the man to loathe himself so much. Horatio had always prided himself on being self-sufficient and independent, mainly due to the years of isolation and misery that had been forced upon him by forces beyond his control.
He needed control; it was what made him the man he was. He was a natural leader; his team would follow him willingly to the depths of Hell and back because they had faith in him. They looked to him for guidance and support; he was a man in control of his life, his environment, his emotions.
When all of that was stripped away, what was left of the man beneath?
Horatio had found himself weak and vulnerable, relying on the help and good intentions of those around him and the lack of control ate away at him like a cancer, turning the burning bright light of his soul into a dark and smouldering ember.
It seemed like years since the last time she had seen him smile, the worry lines were now etched on his handsome face, the boyish grin no longer a part of the man she had grown to love so deeply.
He was at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take, afraid that taking the wrong road would lead to further heartache and loss. She and Kyle could help with his physical recovery but it was up to the man himself to make peace with his past and chose the future that he wanted.
She prayed that he chose a future with her in it. He had told her how he thought she would have hated him for what he had done all those years ago, but the truth was that it made her love him all the more. How many other men could have willingly given up everything they had ever known to protect the people they cared about?
He had sacrificed everything to ensure the happiness and safety of the people around him and had borne that cross alone, never once complaining or uttering a word to another soul about his torment or suffering.
He needed help. Help to see that he was still the strongest, most vibrant and heroic man she had ever known. She promised herself that she would do whatever it took to help rebuild his mind, body and soul, piece by piece until he was whole again.
She made her way silently down the hall, careful not to disturb either of her house guests. Poking her head around the master bedroom door, she frowned to see Horatio tangled up in the sheets that covered his body.
Creeping forward slowly, she made her way over to the bed and tried to soothe him back into a more restful slumber.
"It's ok, Handsome. You're safe."
Her words had little effect on him as his head continued to toss back and forth on the pillow.
"No, please," he begged as an errant tear leaked from the eyes that were screwed shut.
"You're safe," she repeated as she smoothed the sweat-soaked locks from his damp forehead.
"Leave them, take me. Please….."
She watched as he flailed his arms in front of him weakly, she took them gently and placed them back down on the bed.
"I'm right here with you," she continued as she lay down on the bed and pulled him gently towards her, mindful of his injuries.
She kissed the top of his head and rubbed her hands gently up and down his body as his grunts and groans eventually lessened until he was quiet once more.
She held him as he mumbled pitifully.
"I'm sorry."
"Shhhhh, it's ok."
She repositioned herself and held him as her own eyes grew heavy; refusing to let the tortured man in her arms go.
Miami. Present day:
She let him go and pulled away to regard him.
"Come on, let me drive," she said as she opened the passenger door and made her way round the vehicle.
"Where are we going?"
She held out her hand to him as he jumped off the running board.
"Where we should have taken you a long time ago."
He looked at her quizzically.
"Get in," she instructed firmly as he followed her commands and made himself comfortable in the passenger seat.