Horatio watched as the plane flew out of sight. His face was an inscrutable mask, his eyes, full of emotion, hidden behind his glasses. He had walked the woman that he loved to this airport. After holding her one last time in his arms, he had watched her go into the arms of the husband, his brother that he had once thought dead. He did not know if he would ever see her, much less hold her again. He turned and began walking back to his Hummer. The world around him seemed dimmer, ragged around the edges. As he drove back towards the lab, everything looked older, worn out. He saw the traffic, people heading home to their loved ones, or to their empty homes. Inside, something had changed, his love for the populace displaced. His journey was interrupted; he turned in towards his own home. He had no desire to return to the lab. He walked into his apartment, throwing the keys down on the table by the door. He glanced around him, and without turning on any lights walked down the hallway. The setting sun dimly lit his bedroom windows as he shed his clothes, climbing into bed with only his boxers and t-shirt on. Covering his eyes with his arm, he struggled to settle his seething, hurting nerves and go to sleep. *********** The ringing of the phone pulled him out of a troubled sleep. He groggily retrieved the handset and identified himself. The person on the other end of the line spoke briefly, but the news they conveyed awoke him instantly. He hung up the phone without speaking another word. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he covered his face with his hands as tears ran. His shoulders shook with silent sobs. It was definite, now. Never again would he see her hair blowing in the breeze. Hear her voice; much less hold her in his arms. Ray Jr would never be seen as a grown man. And his brother was, officially and definitively, dead. The plane had crashed before it ever reached Brazil. No survivors. Horatio had nothing left, no reason to keep going. He fell back on the bed mentally pleading that his life be taken from him.