A/N: My regular readers will probably recognise the character of Dr Jeff Pearce in this chapter. Please keep in mind that this story is A/U, so he and Horatio have never met before. I hope it doesn't confuse people to have this character cross universes but he was such a good foil for the stubborn Lieutenant in my previous stories that I wanted to use him in this story too.
The drive back to the lab was uncomfortable for both men; neither said a word to the other until Eric's frustration finally got the better of him.
"You look like you've got something you wanna say, Wolfe. Why don't you just spit it out?"
Ryan ignored the fearsome glare his passenger was giving him as he kept his eyes firmly on the road.
"Whatever it is, just say it," Eric persisted, clenching his jaw menacingly.
Ryan let out a jagged sigh.
"You know as well as I do what happened back there."
"Nothing happened."
"That's my point, Eric. That guy had a gun pointed straight at H and he stood there and did nothing, he could have been killed….you could have been killed."
"Maybe he shouldn't be out in the field at the moment," Ryan finished quietly, knowing the reaction his comments would bring.
"Are you serious?!"
"Eric, he froze. We can't afford to have someone on the team we can't trust."
"That's rich coming from you, Wolfe. Do you have any idea how many times Horatio's protected you and taken your sorry ass back, one screw up after another?"
Eric's words stung, yet Ryan knew they were true. Horatio had placed his faith in him even when he himself had given his superior little reason to do so. Each time he had messed things up the Lieutenant would inevitably take him to one side and put him back on the straight and narrow.
Couldn't Eric see that he already hated himself for questioning Horatio's use to the team?
He felt like he was betraying the one person who had always stood by him, taking him back and placing his trust in him time after time. Was this how he would repay him?
"I've been called to meet someone from IAB this afternoon," he said quietly.
"You can't tell them what happened. It'll end H's career."
"Don't you think I know that, Eric?"
"If you do this, Ryan, it'll be the end of your career too. No one will ever trust you again…..you don't sell out a brother."
The younger man nodded his head sadly as he spent the rest of the journey back to the lab contemplating exactly what he would do.
Calleigh pulled up in the wide expanse of the building's driveway and killed the engine on the Hummer, watching her silent passenger from the corner of her eye.
"Do you want me to come in with you?" she asked him quietly.
He shook his head slightly.
"I'll wait out here for you then."
He turned to look at her.
"You don't need to do that; I'll find my own way back."
"I told you, we're doing this together. Ok?"
He gave her a shy smile before exiting the vehicle and making his way into the building.
After climbing two flights of stairs he finally found himself in a plush-looking waiting room, he made his way awkwardly over to the young receptionist, clearing his throat before he spoke.
"Excuse me ma'am, I…..uh…I have an appointment at 4pm," he muttered awkwardly.
The casually-dressed young woman looked down at the book on the desk and smiled sweetly at him.
"Have a seat, sir. Dr Pearce will be with you shortly."
"I'd rather stand, ma'am. If you don't mind."
The blonde-haired woman blushed a bright scarlet at the charming man before her, taken back by his gentlemanly manners. Most of the clients who frequented her place of work were often rude or dismissive, too wrapped up in their own problems to afford her any kind of common courtesy.
This man was different, she could see the pain written clearly on his face and yet he hadn't allowed his own turmoil to cloud his treatment of those around him. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever spoken to her so respectfully.
She watched him flinch as the door to her colleague's office opened.
"Your next appointment is here, Dr Pearce," she beamed at him as her eyes led him to the stiff-looking man standing in the corner of the room.
"Thanks, Sally," he returned with a smile of his own before turning his attention to the man across the room.
"Mr Caine, if you'd like to follow me."
He saw the reluctance in the other man as he stood side-on, as if sizing the doctor up.
After a short pause, he smiled as his client followed him into his office.
He sat himself down in his comfy office chair and ensconced himself behind his desk, watching the man before him carefully.
"Feel free to sit down," he said amiably.
"I'd rather stand," the man responded stiffly.
The doctor shrugged his shoulders.
"You know, you can tell the most about a person by their feet."
His offhand comment had the desired effect as his client finally met his gaze.
"It's the biggest giveaway to how a person is really feeling," he continued.
"Right now, yours are pointed towards the door."
Horatio kicked himself for looking down at his own feet and finding that his designer leather shoes were pointed firmly in the direction of the room's only way out.
"And I'm sure you're going to tell me what that means, Doctor," he ground out sarcastically.
"I think you already know what it means, Lieutenant."
The gazes of the two men met once more.
"Would you be more comfortable if I called you John or perhaps Mr Kelly?"
The psychologist knew exactly what he was doing. He'd read his new client's medical records and police files extensively in the few hours previous to his current session. At times he found it hard to believe that he was reading someone's life story and not some fictional creation of a writer's warped mind.
The man before him glared menacingly, the muscles in his face twitching of their own accord.
"What's the point of me being here if you already know all about me?"
"The point of you being here is because your friends and colleagues are worried about you, and with good cause it would seem."
He was rewarded with another fierce look.
"How about we start with some introductions. My name is Jeff Pearce; I've been a clinical psychologist for the last 25 years both here and in a number of different states around the country. How about you?"
Horatio stared intently at the man before him, much like a predator stalking its prey. He looked harmless enough in his light blue shirt, open slightly at the collar, with brown slacks and matching loafers. He was not naïve enough to believe that the man in front of him was as docile as he seemed, his short-cropped greying hair and the multitude of lines creasing his friendly face were testament to the fact that the man had experienced his own share of pain in his life.
"You already know everything there is to know about me," he finally spoke with a dramatic sigh.
"Humour me then, I always find medical reports so clinical," Jeff replied distastefully as he fingered at the sheets of paper on his desk.
Horatio stood side-on, figuring that the doctor's silly game was nothing but a waste of both of their time.
"Fine. I'm Lieutenant Horatio Caine of the Miami Dade Police Department; I've been a police officer for the last 30 years. I'm 6'1", 175lbs and my inside leg measurement is 29 inches. That enough information for you?"
Jeff smiled at his client; he had seen many men like Horatio Caine before. Men who were filled with self-hatred and loathing, men who didn't like talking about their feelings.
"You obviously hold a great deal of anger in you at the moment," Jeff observed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "What made you come here?"
"It wasn't my choice," the man scowled as he paced the lengthy room.
"Alexx made me come here," Horatio finished after a long pause.
"Ah, yes, Alexx Woods. A fearsome lady and not to be crossed," Jeff replied as he nodded his head. "But that's not the reason you came here."
Horatio stopped his pacing, his head shooting in the other man's direction.
"I'll ask you again, what made you come here today?"
Horatio began pacing again, back and forth across the carpeted floor as he tried to a suitable answer to the innocent question. Try as he might, he found himself coming up short each time.
"You're the mighty Horatio Caine, the city's hero. No one can make you do something you don't want to do."
"You've come here because you realise that you need help," the doctor continued when he realised that his reluctant client would not respond.
"I don't need help," Horatio shot back, his voice rising in time with his temper.
"There's no shame in it, you were the victim of a vicious and barbaric crime…."
"I'm not a victim!"
Jeff remained behind the desk, his face a picture of calmness and serenity as the man before him shot from the far end of the room, breathing heavily as he tried to regain his composure.
"Horatio, you have to accept that what happened to you wasn't your fault. Until you come to terms with the fact that you were a victim you're never going to get past this."
He kept his eye on the tense figure as he watched the fight slowly drain from him.
"It was my fault. I brought all of this on myself," Horatio whispered as he finally spoke.
"Not from what I gather," Jeff replied as he flicked through the file in front of him.
"Tell me what your captors did to you."
He watched as the other man flinched slightly before beginning to pace the room again restlessly.
"You've read the reports; you know what they did to me."
Jeff looked down at his desk once more before regarding his client once more.
"I've got a catalogue of your injuries and the dozens of medical interventions that were used to save your life but that doesn't tell me what they did to you."
Sensing that Horatio was reluctant to talk about it, he tried a slightly different tack.
"You look like you could do with a drink, coffee?" he offered as he made his way over to a small desk at the corner of the room. He didn't wait to be answered as he went about pouring the other man a cup of steaming black coffee, walking towards him and handing it over.
"They abused you, didn't they?"
Horatio flinched again and involuntarily squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that he had given the clearest indication yet that the cunning psychologist was on the right track.
"Physically?"
He kept his gaze towards the floor, giving no indication that the other man was correct in his assessment.
"Mentally?"
Silence.
"Sexually?"
He felt as if he had been punched in the gut, the last question had been something that he had not been expecting. His head shot up as he shook his head vigorously.
"It's common to feel inadequate after suffering such an ordeal. How have you been functioning recently?"
"How do you mean?"
"Physically…."
He looked away again, shielding his eyes from the man who seemed to have the measure of him. It was an unnerving prospect, to think that someone could see past his bravado and see the scared and frightened man underneath.
"I've had no…..problems," he replied after a beat or two.
The psychologist sighed at him.
"This isn't going to work unless you're honest with me."
Horatio remained silent.
"I can tell by the way you hold yourself that you're barely functioning, even in the physical sense. It's ok to admit that you can't cope."
"I can cope!" he shot back aggressively.
"That's not what Alexx tells me….She says that there was an incident last night, tell me about that."
"No."
"You're not the first man who hasn't been able to function sexually after such a brutal ordeal. It's quite common you know."
"I don't want to talk about this," Horatio growled as he balled his hands into fists.
Jeff continued on, years of experience telling him that the man before him needed to hear this, whether he wanted to or not.
"Victims of torture often can't bear to be touched; their libidos either disappear or go into overdrive. Some people begin to engage in some very unhealthy practices in order to deal with their urges or lack thereof."
He remained in his non-threatening position as he continued.
"Have you ever had any problems getting an erection before?"
Horatio's head shot up at the blunt question.
"From what I've seen of you on the local news I can tell that you pride yourself on being a strong and vibrant man. It must really eat at you to realise that you're not quite as virile as you once were."
"Image is everything to you, Horatio. Your ego and self-belief has taken a hell of a knock recently, the idea of not being able to cope frightens you but you need to come to terms with your own mortality."
"Have you quite finished?" Horatio spat sarcastically.
"No, I've only just started," Jeff replied evenly.
"I suggest that we start with two sessions a week then see how we go from there."
"What makes you think I'll come back?"
He regarded the uncooperative man before him.
"Because you're stubborn man and you have people around you that care a great deal about you. If you won't do it for yourself then do it for them."
"Come back and see me, same time, the day after tomorrow."
"Is that a request or an order?" Horatio responded as he narrowed his eyes at the placid doctor.
"I'll leave that for you to decide."