CSI: Miami - "Healing"

Okay, I'm back under the name Furbi. I don't know what happened to my old acount, but I'm not even going to try and mess with it. Thanks to fanilowchick for posting in my absence, and to everyone who's reviewed. On with the next chapter!

Healing Chapter VII - Beginning To Dawn

Horatio awoke with a start. It took him a few moments to realize where he was. Accustomed to the plain, austere walls of the hospital room, he remembered with a great sense of relief that he was now home. Mindful of his injury, he raised himself and sat on the foot of the bed for several moments, trying to will away the pain in his side. He would be substantially more comfortable as soon as he had some breakfast and taken his morning dose of pain medication.
It was only after he had entered the bathroom to clean himself up that he realized he was still wearing the same outfit as when Calleigh and Eric had picked him up from the hospital, over sixteen hours ago. Gazing at his reflection, Horatio saw that his blue dress shirt was terribly wrinkled, and his hair was a complete mess. He ran his hands through it, but a few stubborn locks refused to settle down.
He gave up on trying to tame his red mane and instead descended the stairs to the main floor of his condo. Each step jolted his weakened body more than he would have liked, forcing him to slow his pace to a crawl. Horatio leaned against the wall by the staircase, breathing heavily, one hand pressed to his side as though it would somehow alleviate the agony. Funny how a simple task such as using the stairs in his condo, something he did every day, now seemed such a gigantic obstacle.
Granted, he hadn't been in the greatest physical shape even before the shooting. Horatio could admit that he'd let himself go in the past few years. He no longer bothered to dress in the latest Miami fashions as the younger men of his team did, choosing instead to wear the same old shirts and suits. And yes, he'd gained a considerable amount of weight since Mari died. What, he mused, was the point of keeping himself in shape? It certainly wasn't to impress women; he hadn't dated in longer than he cared to recall. As long as he was fit enough to do his job, Horatio didn't really give a damn what others thought about his appearance.
Or at least he hadn't until eight days ago, when he'd met Renee Locklear. She was a fascinating lady in every aspect; independent, intelligent, and tough, with an open frankness that helped put him at ease. She was also incredibly beautiful, and unfortunately, that seemed to bring out his shy side. He wanted her, but thinking about it also brought to mind Marisol. Her memory, and his grief, had kept him from even considering a relationship with another woman in the last six years. Casual sex was not an option - he wasn't that kind of person. When he made love to a woman, it was far more than physical; he was connecting, bonding his soul to hers.
In other words, when Horatio Caine fell, he fell hard.
Making himself a simple breakfast of eggs and toast had taken nearly twenty minutes, and by the time he had eaten, Horatio was exhausted. Perhaps he should have taken up Calleigh's offer of staying with her for a few days. Taking care of himself with a bullethole in his side was harder than he had anticipated.
He sat on the couch, trying to build the stength to hike back upstairs. The pillows were flattened and wrinkled but held a vague feminine scent. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the remnants of Renee's perfume. Desire surged through him as he was struck with the sudden thought of what it would be like to kiss her. He imagined how she would taste... and then he could visualize doing more than kissing.
Slow down, boy! he reprimanded himself. She's probably not even interested in you.
Why would she be? Renee was a gorgeous young woman with a good head on her shoulders and a body that would make most men drop to their knees. For her to be attracted to an old, lonely man like himself would be nothing short of a miracle. But there was something in her eyes, something that made him want to cling onto that distant hope. He wanted to believe she truly cared.
There was only one way to find out, he reasoned. Horatio summoned his courage and pulled his cell phone from his pocket, along with the note Renee had given him the day she'd visited him in the hospital.
Hands trembling with nervousness and anticipation, he began to dial the number.
 
Healing Chapter VIII - Lieutenant Caine vs. Horatio

She answered on the first ring. "Locklear."
"Ah - hello, Renee?"
"Horatio!" she exclaimed. "I was getting worried. Do you know what time it is?"
"Actually, I don't," he admitted. "I woke up just a little while ago."
"Then you must have needed your rest. It's almost noon."
He was stunned. Never in his life had he slept so late! Talking with her last night must have taken more out of him than he had thought.
"How are you feeling today?" she asked, the concern in her voice genuine.
"I'm still sore and don't have much energy, but... at least I'm still here, I suppose."
She sighed. "Amen to that."
An awkward silence enveloped them for a few moments before Renee said, "Horatio, was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"
He took a deep breath before replying, attempting to slow his racing pulse. "Um, yes. I was wondering if you'd like to - er - have dinner with me sometime."
There was a short pause before she said, "Where?"
"Ordinarily I would say at my place, but I don't think I'm in any shape to cook."
"Then let's go out to eat," she suggested.
Horatio remained silent, unsure if she had really spoken the words or if it was his imagination. "Um... Renee?"
"Yeah?"
"Is that a yes?"
She chuckled softly. "Of course it is. How does seven sound?"
He could hardly believe it. "Tonight?"
"Well, sure. Or - are you not feeling up to it?"
"No, no," he said hastily. "I think I've got enough strength for that."
"Really? Because I can always take a rain check."
Horatio smiled. "No need. I'll be fine."
"Great," Renee said. "Seven then?"
"See you then."
"Bye, Horatio."
After he disconnected the call, Horatio sat deep in thought for several moments. Was he really ready for this? One side of him, the logical Lieutenant Caine, yelled at him to get out while he could, that this would only end with him being crushed and alone. But the other side, the emotional Horatio, whom he had blocked out since losing Marisol, told him to close his eyes and jump. Go for it.
He figured it was about time Horatio was given a chance.
 
The image of shy H is making me giggle :lol:
I somehow can't recall how Renee looks like. I don't know if I've seen her yet.
Good that you decided to keep on writing Furbi :)
 
This is Renee, albeit a little more glammed up than we saw in the season finale.
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BDStar--I believe Ms. Henstridge was only in the season finale, but she should turn up again in the upcoming season. :)
 
Her first and only appearance [so far] was in the season 9 finale, 'Mayday'. She is scheduled to return in the season 10 premiere and continue on as a recurring guest star.
 
Healing Chapter IX - Trust Issues

Renee pulled up in a standard government-issue black Chevrolet Suburban at exactly 6.58. She walked towards the door with strong, confident strides that Horatio admired.
He swung open the front door and greeted her with a cordial, "Good evening."
"Hi, Horatio." She studied him from head to toe. "Wow."
There was that pesky word again. "Good wow or bad wow?"
"How could it be a bad wow when you look like that?"
"Like what?" he asked, fearing his wardrobe choice had been sorely mistaken.
He hadn't been on a date in almost seven years, he never went out, and his clothes were probably all out of style. Keeping it simple, he'd chosen a dark green silk shirt and a black suit that was very similar, albeit more informal, than his work attire.
"So handsome," she replied.
"Thank you," he said shyly. "You look lovely as well."
Understatement of the century, Horatio thought. She wore a short black dress and towering black heels that showed off her killer curves and mile-long legs. It was, without a doubt, the kind of outfit a woman wore when she was hoping to attract a man's attention. It was beside the point, however; Horatio figured she could get his attention and hold it - permanently - in coveralls and rubber galoshes.
Renee batted her eyelashes. "Well, I always like to look my best when I'm going out with a sexy man."
Well, at least that cleared up the mystery of whether or not Renee was interested in him."I'm not sexy," he muttered, feeling color rise to his cheeks.
She sighed. "I'm not going to argue with you. But you are, Horatio. Trust me."
"Oh no, I don't," he cracked, and was gratified to see her smile. God, she was beautiful.
"You ready, Horatio?"
"Huh? Ready for what?" She'd caught him drifting off again.
"For dinner," she laughed.
"Oh. Of course." He couldn't help but grin at his own absentmindedness. "Let's go."
They exited Horatio's condo together, walking slowly so as not to irritate his injury further. He had taken a strong dose of painkillers before Renee arrived, but hopefully not so much that he would fall asleep before their dinner was over.
She led him to the passenger side of her SUV.
Horatio gazed at her in confusion. "You're going to take me?"
"I don't think you're in any shape to be driving," she responded. "Hop in."
It was a long process, but Horatio finally managed to get himself situated. As he reached to fasten the seatbelt, he turned just a bit too sharply, sending pain radiating through his body. He instantly stiffened, unable to help the small gasp that left his lips.
Renee noticed. "Are you okay?"
"Y-yes." Horatio had to use all of his strength to keep from crying out.
"No, you're not. Hang on," she muttered, climbing out of the car and hurrying to Horatio's side.
Still fighting the pain, Horatio mumbled, "What are you doing?"
"Getting you out. Here, put your arm around me," she instructed.
"I'm fine," he protested weakly, but it was no use.
Renee said as she carefully led him back to his condo. He leaned heavily on her, giving up on trying to stay strong.
They fumbled with the keys and opening the door for a full minute before getting inside. Renee helped him sit on the sofa.
"I'm sorry -" he began, but Renee pressed a finger to his lips.
"Don't be. We'll go out another time, okay?"
Horatio nodded.
"Are you feeling better now?" she asked.
"A little," he said truthfully. The painkillers were now beginning to take effect, but unfortunately they also made him a bit sleepy.
"Lift up your shirt. I want to make sure you didn't tear any stitches."
Alarm bells immediately went off inside him. Now fully alert, he said, "I'm fine."
"Please, Horatio," Renee said. "I'm worried I hurt you."
"You didn't."
Her voice rose. "Do you have a problem with my checking to see if you're all right?"
"No," he lied. "I just - I'm very private and well, I don't know you."
Renee began fiddling with a button in his shirt. "Oh, I understand."
He sighed in relief. "Good, because I -"
Quick as a flash, she grasped the collar of his suit coat and smashed her lips against his. He grunted in surprise and froze, but Renee didn't seem to mind. She continued kissing him furiously, running her hands through his hair.
"Mmm," she moaned when she at last pulled away. "I've wanted to do that since I met you."
He was stunned. "You have?"
"You bet. Ever since you pulled me into that little room at your lab and grilled me." Leaning in closer, she whispered, "You're so hot when you're angry."
Oh, dear God. Half of him wanted to pull her into his arms, ravage her mouth, and confess to her that he'd been wanting to do the same. She was so damn gorgeous right now; her lipstick was smudged, one of the spaghetti straps on her dress had slid down and she was completely out of breath. But the other half was still holding him back, telling him, Don't get involved with this girl, she'll only love you and leave you like the rest.
The fear was stronger. Almost involuntarily, his arms pushed her away. "No - no. I can't do this."
Renee was silent for a moment. When she spoke, her voice sounded oddly flat. "You don't like me."
"No!" he exclaimed. "I think you're an amazing woman."
"Horatio, I've been very patient with you and I've tried to understand what makes you tick, but I just can't. I can't tell if you want me or not and I'm tired of playing games. So just give it to me straight."
"Look," he sighed. "I am attracted to you and I would love to get to know you better. But I've been hurt before - badly - and I... I just don't know if I'm ready for this."
"Okay," she said. "Okay." She stood and slipped the strap back into place. "I guess I should go."
"No, I didn't mean it that way," he protested.
She held up a hand. "Horatio, I can see you've got some serious trust issues, so you work out whatever you need to on your own time. I really wish you all the best. But I don't think tonight was a good idea. I'm sorry, because I forced you into it."
"Renee -"
"Goodnight, Horatio." Then she closed the door softly behind her.
Alone on the sofa, he listened to her high heels clicking on the concrete path that led from his doorstep to the road, then the squeal of her tires as she drove away.
"I'm sorry," he said out loud, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry."
 
Oh now I see. So far I've seen only 8 episodes from season 9, they stopped airing s9 for some reason returning to season 7 again. I just thought if she's been on early episode and I missed it. Well I happened to see Mayday online so I guess I should remember her appearance.
-
Lol this chapter completely changed my mind about H.
I had to hold myself both hands to table so I don't fall on the floor from laughing :guffaw:
Loved this chapter. It was funny.
Oh, H don't ruin your chance like that again :lol:
 
Healing Chapter X - What's Eating Horatio Caine?

Horatio should have been happy. The preliminary results of his physical and psychological evaluations had come through, and IAB had cleared him for work. Broward County PD had arrested Randy North after receiving a tip from a motel clerk who'd seen his photo on the news, and were transporting him back to Miami where he would face serious jail time for the assault and attempted murder of two police officers.
Really, he should have been overjoyed. He knew his physical condition could have been a whole lot worse, and it was a true miracle that he was now sitting in his office instead of lying on a slab in Tom Loman's morgue.
But his disastrous first date with Renee - if it could be called that - had left him with a heavy heart. He'd barely stopped thinking about her in the two weeks that had passed. Several times, while lying awake in the middle of the night, he had reached for the note that held her number and nearly called her. Each time, however, he had lost his nerve, folded up the little piece of paper, and placed it carefully in his nightstand drawer.
What bothered him the most was that she was right. They both knew it. There was an undeniable physical attraction, and perhaps something more, between them, but Horatio had allowed his insecurity, or 'trust issues', as she had put it, to stand in the way. It wasn't just about rejection - that he was well used to. It was a fear, deep and so powerful within him that it sometimes clouded his better judgment, of loss. He had lost almost everyone close to him, from his beloved mother to Speed, Ray, even Rebecca Nevins. In a way he'd lost Julia too, but that had been by her own selfish and destructive choices. He already felt strongly for Renee, and couldn't imagine what he would do if he allowed himself to get close, only to have her taken away from him like all the other woman he had ever cared for or loved.
"H!"
He jumped upon hearing his nickname and realized he'd drifted off into thinking about Renee yet again.
"Yes... Francis?"
A broad grin spread over Frank Tripp's face. "I thought I might find you here, H. Welcome back."
"It's good to be back," Horatio replied flatly. It was the truth, but right now he felt anything but glad.
The big detective eased himself down onto the couch. The frame creaked under his weight. He stared directly at his longtime friend.
Horatio gave him a confused glance. "What's up?"
"That's what I should be asking you."
"I don't follow."
Frank ran a hand over his bald head. "Horatio, how long have we known each other? I may not be a CSI, but I can tell something's eating at you, plain as day. Here I thought you'd be bouncing off the walls at being back to work, and you look completely miserable."
He was silent for a long while, trying to figure out how to explain it without giving away too much.
Before he could stop himself, he blurted, "Francis, do you believe in true love?"
Frank looked completely stunned by the question. "Are you serious?"
He could only nod.
The Texan was silent for a long time, and Horatio could almost see his mind working, trying to produce an answer.
"Well, uh, I guess it's possible," he said at last. "Maybe not for all people, but I think some do find true love." He stared directly at the redhead. "What's going on, Horatio?"
"It-it's a long story."
"Do I look like I got anyplace else to be?"
Grateful for his friend's straightforwardness, Horatio rose from his office chair and strode to the door. He shut and locked it, ignoring Frank's quizzical gaze.
"Ah - I - ah," he fumbled uselessly, those old nerves jumping right back up.
Frank remained silent, giving his friend time.
Gathering what was left of his fuzzed mind, Horatio began, "Do you remember Renee?"
"Secret Service? Of course I do."
"Yes. See, I, um, I mean we were -" he lowered his gaze to the floor, embarrassed.
Leaning closer, Frank said, "You like her, don't you?"
His head snapped up. "How did you know?"
The big detective grinned. "You should have seen the look on your face after she visited you in the hospital. I swear, for the next two days you were lost on planet Caine."
Horatio couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, she does seem to have an effect on me." That's putting it mildly, he thought.
"So ask her out."
His smile faded. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Francis."
"She married?"
"No, and I think she's attracted to me as well." He didn't want to mention the first 'date' between him and Renee.
Frank's face took on the expression usually reserved for exceedingly stupid suspects. "Which part of this isn't simple?"
Horatio sighed in frustration, his quick temper beginning to flare. "Francis, please. I'm asking for your help here."
Just then, the Texan's cell phone rang. He gazed at the caller ID. "I'm sorry, man. I gotta go."
Horatio nodded his understanding.
Frank paused at the door. "Look, the girl's attracted to you, you to her. Go for it. What do you have to lose? That's my advice." Then he turned and strode out into the halls of the Miami-Dade crime lab.
 
Healing Chapter XI - Time Is A Gift

Horatio sat in silence, thinking hard about what Frank had said. He knew he was making things more complicated than they needed to be between him and Renee. She'd agreed to dinner, not to marry him. He wished he could rewind to the evening of their date. All the things he'd wanted to say to her but simply couldn't find the courage to had been running over and over in his mind since then, keeping him awake at night and making him miserable during the day.
Or better yet, rewind to the day she'd visited him in the hospital. For both their sakes, he should have kept his Lieutenant Caine mask on and told her his personal professional lives did not intersect. Renee would sure as hell be better off without him. By the look on her face when he said he wasn't ready, it was plain as day he'd crushed her feelings. That, more then anything, was what bothered him. He was no stranger to heartbreak and had come to accept lonliness as an old friend, but the last thing he wanted to do was drag someone else down with him.
"H?"
He looked up to see a familiar face peeking through the doorway. "Calleigh... come in."
"I can't. Double homicide in Hialeah. I've got to get out there and give Ryan a hand. But I wanted to let you know we're about to wrap up the Miller murder."
Horatio instantly shifted back into professional mode. "Yes... Sarah Miller, 22 year old college student. Killed in a hit-and-run in South Beach, right? The main suspect is Scott Arnold, 44. Has two priors: driving under the influence and assault and battery."
The blond CSI's smile lit up the entire room. "Someone's feeling better."
He managed a shadow of a smile. "I am."
"That's great," Calleigh chirped. "So, apparently this Arnold wants to confess, maybe he thinks things will go a little easier for him during the trial. Walter is waiting for you."
"Thank you, Calleigh."
"No problem, H. Look, I've gotta run."
He nodded. "Don't keep Ryan waiting."
"Will do. And Horatio?" she paused. "I can't tell you how good it is to have you back here."
Without a word, Horatio rose and walked to the interrogation rooms, pausing to click off his office light before he left.
"Hello, Walter," he greeted the young man warmly.
Walter Simmons hadn't been a member of the team for very long, but he had quickly proved himself a capable, knowledgeable crime scene investigator. In the wake of Eric's departure and Jesse Cardoza's death, Horatio was glad to have a cool head on his side when the going got tough, which it frequently did in their line of work. Walter was a good man, and the Lieutenant knew he could trust him with his life.
"Hello, Horatio," he replied politely. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm doing all right, thank you."
"Good." Walter nodded. "So, Scott Arnold wants to make a confession in the murder of the Miller girl. I figured since you couldn't be out in the field on this one, you might want to help wrap it up."
"I appreciate it, Walter," Horatio said. "Hopefully it won't be long until I can return to fully active duty. Well, I suppose we don't want to keep Mr. Arnold waiting any longer."
"After you, sir." Walter opened the glass door to the interrogation room and allowed his boss through.
Scott Arnold sat behind the glass table, hands cuffed, a grim expression on his face. There were two chairs on the opposite side. Though Horatio didn't like sitting during a questioning, his weary body beckoned him to forego his pride; he still wasn't feeling one hundred percent.
As the two detectives lowered themselves into their respective chairs, Scott blurted, "I want a deal!"
The young CSI looked incredulous. "Mr. Arnold, the crime lab has matched glass from the headlights of your car found inside Sarah Miller's wounds. Witnesses place a driver matching your description behind the wheel. We haven't even finished processing all the evidence yet and already it's enough to sink you. What deal do you possibly think you can get?"
The suspect ran a hand through his greasy brown hair and fiddled with his glasses before murmuring, "It was an accident - she just came out of nowhere."
Horatio spoke up. "Don't lie to us, Scott. I've seen the crime scene photos. You never applied the brakes. That's not an accident, that's murder. "
His hands shaking, Scott cried, "No! I didn't mean to do it! I-I was going too fast, and I wasn't paying attention."
Rage began to build within Horatio. This scum had been caught driving drunk before, had his license suspended, and yet here he was gallivanting around town in broad daylight.
"You weren't paying attention because you were drunk." He placed an emphasis on the last word, dropping his voice to a deadly whisper. "I don't know how many times you've driven while intoxicated, Scott, but I can assure you this will be your last. You're going away for life."
"I know! I know! But I swear I never meant to hit her. I didn't see her..." his voice trailed off and he placed his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry."
Horatio continued staring the man down, his jaw clenched, hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles had blanched.
Turning to Walter, he hissed, "Get him out of here."
"You okay, boss?" Walter asked as soon as they emerged from the interrogation cell.
"Fine, thank you," he replied.
He was beginning to relax now, his anger draining away and giving into exhaustion. It was almost the end of the day shift, and he couldn't wait to get back home and take a nice long shower, then hit the hay.
"I'll see you tomorrow, H. Thanks for sitting in. I really appreciate it." Walter smiled before heading towards the locker rooms.
"No problem," he replied.
Just as he turned to go back into his office, a voice behind him said, "Lieutenant Caine?"
A young man of about twenty-five stood there. He was thin, with a slumped posture that spoke of insecurity. What struck Horatio most, however, was the hollow, tortured gaze in his eyes. This kid was grieving deeply for something or someone.
"How can I help you, son?" he asked, feeling his fatherly instincts take over.
"Uh, my name is Dan Fulton. My, uh, my girlfriend was Sarah."
Horatio instantly understood. "I'm so sorry."
The young man nodded feebly. "I just wanted to, uh, say thank you for catching the man who did this. I know it'll never bring Sarah back, but maybe now she can rest in peace."
"I certainly hope so," he responded in a soft voice, feeling a rush of sympathy for the girl's family.
Obviously fighting tears, Dan reached into his pocket and produced a small shiny object. Horatio's heart seized when he saw what it was: a wedding ring, very similar to the one his beloved Marisol had worn.
"I was, uh, going to give this to Sarah." His lower lip began trembling. "I loved her. But I don't think she knew. I never had the courage to tell her."
Horatio watched in silence as tears began to roll down Dan's cheeks.
"I wish I could just go back and tell her I loved her. I never thought it would end like this. I thought we had so much time."
He pulled the young man into his arms, not caring who saw. He knew all too well how it felt to have the one you loved most ripped from you, far too soon.
Dan pulled away, sniffling. "I never realized until now that time is a gift. I took every day I had with Sarah for granted. And now she's gone."
Horatio swallowed hard. "There's probably nothing I can say that would make you feel better, is there, son?"
"I don't think so," he replied, then said, "Goodbye, Lieutenant. And thank you."
After the boy had gone, Horatio stood there for a long while, replaying his words over and over in his mind. Time was indeed a gift, and it was something he and his own wife didn't have enough of.
He would probably never love again, the kind of bond he and Mari had shared being too much to hope for. Happiness, however, was a feasible goal. And he knew someone who, possibly, held the key to that happiness. He only hoped she could forgive him.
 
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