My take on the type of girl Horatio needs to be with.
Pairing: Horatio Caine/OC
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: Miami or any of its characters. I only own my own character and the plot. Enjoy!

As a Flower Blooms_________________________

Horatio sighed as he watched the south wall of the large building burn. Arsons had increased that summer, and he was starting to get tired of having to find the arsonists. Fortunately, the CSIs and firefighters were able to get to this particular scene quickly, thanks to a witness who saw the arsonist start the fire. The building, while still burning, was still in relatively good condition.

Horatio walked toward the building and in through the front door. Looking around, he saw that the building was relatively empty, save for a single, cluttered corner. Why burn an empty building? Horatio was puzzled, until he heard a soft cough from the one corner. Examining the corner more carefully, Horatio saw the edge of an old mattress. He glanced over toward Eric, who was standing in the doorway before briskly moving to investigate the corner further. "Eric! Get paramedics in here!"

Horatio kneeled down next to the girl lying on the mattress and checked for the typical signs of life. Her breathing was solid and regular, and her pulse was strong. That seemed to be about the only thing the young woman had going for her. Both of her eyes were puffy and swollen, her eyebrows and lips split open. The rest of her scantily clad body was covered in dried blood and bruises.

Though he didn't quite realize or understand it himself, Horatio was more motivated to solve this crime than he had been with others in quite some time.

"Frank, do we have any I.D. on the vic yet?"

"I'm afraid not, H. We've posted her picture all over the news, but no one has called. You'd think someone would remember that hair." Horatio chuckled in understanding. The girl's fiery locks were wild and unruly and looked as if they could never hope to be tamed. Horatio sighed and pushed a curl out of the girl's sleeping eyes. She looked to be about 18 years old. Her porcelain-smooth pale skin was covered in cuts and bruises. She had a very slender build, and looked to be about 5'6.

They were at Miami-Dade Memorial Hospital, checking on the girl's status. Her body was starting to heal, but she had yet to regain consciousness. "Horatio, you're not gonna like this." Alexx walked into the room, and handed a file over to Horatio. He opened it an glanced over the photos and other various reports. "How long would you say this has been going on, Alexx?"

"Maybe about two years, Horatio. This poor girl suffered. There's something curious, though." Alexx walked over to stand next to the girl's bed and lifted both of the girl's wrists. "Look at them, Horatio. There are hardly any scars. Why didn't she just run away?"

"Victims in cases like these are often intimidated to act in a certain way. She may have been too afraid to leave, Alexx."

"I hope you get these guys, Horatio." Alexx and Frank walked out of the room as Horatio continued to look over the girl's results from the rape kit and physical exams, which included a slew of x-rays, MRIs, CAT scans, and any other test that could be run. According to Alexx, the girl had suffered around two years of sexual and physical abuse. He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling anger rise in him. If there was anything he hated, it was a person who raped and abused women.

A woman's sharp intake of air caught Horatio's attention, and he looked up to meet a pair of impossibly bright green eyes. He smiled warmly at her. "Hello." She looked around before looking back toward Horatio. "H-hello. Who're you?"

"I'm Lt. Horatio Caine with the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. What's your name?" She gave him a wary look before deciding she could trust him. "Artemis. Artemis Bennett. What am I doing here?"

"Well, Artemis, we found you in an old warehouse that someone set fire to. Can you tell me about that?"

Artemis' eyes widened. "No, sir. I can't."

Horatio sighed. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but part of him had hoped she would tell him what horrors she had lived through right off. "Artemis, please. No one's going to hurt you now. You're safe now. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Horatio felt her eyes boring into his as she searched for anything that might show if he was bluffing. Finally, she realized his sincerity. "I don't really know any names."

"That's fine, sweetheart. Just whatever you can tell me." She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He took me from my house a year and a half ago; told me if I ever ran away, he'd kill me, so I never tried to run. At least, not until… how long have I been out?"

"Two days."

"Not until three days ago, then. I didn't even make it all the way down the street before they caught up with me. After the beating they gave me, I thought I was going to die."

Horatio smiled thinly, "I'll bet you did. Tell me, if you could, what they did to you while you were there. My team is still trying to piece some things together, but others just aren't adding up, such as why you weren't kept bound."

"I told you, they said they were going to kill me. Plus, they kept that special. They said that they didn't want me to get used to the feeling of being tied up."

Anger surged through Horatio. He immediately understood why they didn't want her to be used to being bound - they wanted it to be traumatic each time they bound her. Keeping her tied up would have eventually numbed her to it psychologically; keeping it set aside for particularly traumatic events made it scarier. Artemis took another deep breath.

"They pimped me out, usually. I was driven to houses at least twice a week. A couple of the guys were regulars - I'd see them at least twice a month. One guy-" Artemis cut off her sentence with a scream. The beeps of the heart monitor jumped up severely, reaching up to above 150 bpm. Looking around, Horatio wondered what could have scared Artemis into such a panic attack.

All he saw that had changed the scenery was Stetler. He looked back at Artemis, who was biting back another scream, though tears streamed down her face. Her eyes, wide with fear, were locked onto Stetler.