Chapter Three: Morning

Mac's steel grey eyes slowly blinked open. He was still on his side, staring out into the sheer white curtains. They were fretted with golden light, which was what woke him.

It took Mac a few seconds to remember why he wasn't enveloped in that familiar grey and blue of New York.

Horatio.

With that name, all the memories came rushing back to him. They made his head swim and warmed his blood. He had finally received what he knew he had wanted from the moment he first laid eyes on that gorgeous redhead. He had done something to him that nobody got the chance to do before. It felt amazing. And judging by how passionately Horatio moaned last night, he agreed.

But where was he? Mac had woken up alone in the bed. What time was it? Maybe he was called in. It had to be around seven in the morning, but Horatio said that he called today off. Perhaps he was fixing breakfast.

Mac sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching. He wished for a fleeting moment that the sheets weren't so soft. The blankets wrapped around his bare body just felt too wonderful. He rested against the headboard, wishing that he would never need to get out of Horatio's bed.

But knowing that he didn't have eternity, like he wished he did, Mac forced himself out of bed and into his pants. He would wander around the house later. But for right now he wanted to take a look at the sunrise, something he hadn't been able to see for a long time.

Mac brushed aside the sheer white curtains, learning that the porch door was already open. He stepped outside, but his view of the brilliant rising sun was distracted. There, sitting in the tiled ground in the corner of the balcony, huddled against the wall of the house was Horatio. He was wrapped in a plush white robe. His sky blue eyes were puffy, his face a little flushed… he had been crying.

Horatio gave Mac a slight glance before he turned his face away. As he shifted, the brunette noticed that he was clutching something close to his chest. He looked closely and recognized it right away. It was the picture he had turned away earlier. The picture of his late wife.

***

Horatio's Morning:

It was a few moments before daybreak. The sky was already turning blue, ready to welcome the dawn. There was a soft breeze that made the palm trees sing. The ocean waves rolled up onto the shore, occasionally washing up seaweed or uncovering shells.

Horatio was standing out on the balcony, letting the wind tussle his hair and pull lightly at his clothes. He sighed. The ocean seemed to stretch on for infinity. But for some reason he felt a comfort that somewhere in that eternal blueness, there was a place… somewhere he would feel complete and where nothing could ever hurt him or anyone he loved.

Another sigh was pulled from him as he leaned on the balcony ledge. His eyes wandered down to the beach, and what he saw made his heart forget how to beat for a moment.

There, standing on the shore and looking out to the ocean, was a woman. She was short, but lean, and clad in a white dress that billowed in the wind. She had wavy raven hair that hung down just past her shoulders. In her hands was a white sun hat, which she toyed with, not sure what to do with it.

Horatio could hardly breathe as he whispered the name, "Marisol".

The next thing he knew, he was running through the house and down the stairs, murmuring her name the entire way. It was like if he stopped saying it, she would vanish.

But there she was, plain as day. It was almost as if it didn't matter if he called her name or not, she was there. Slowly, he approached her, afraid that she would turn into the sand at her feet if he dare move too quickly.

Finally, he was only a few steps away. He had to know if she was real.

"Marisol?" he cooed gently, praying with all his heart that it was her.

She jumped a little, obviously thinking she was alone. Horatio bit his lip, preparing himself to apologize… but then she turned around.

It was her… it was really her. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, from her dark but shining eyes to her sweet and full smile. It was really her.

"Horatio," she laughed, looking over him, "You're up early. What's the occasion?"

"I…I…" he couldn't believe it was really her, "I wanted to watch the sun rise with you".

"You're always so sweet," she grinned, reaching out and pulling him up next to her.

He didn't dare point out that she had passed away over three years ago. He didn't want to say anything that could possibly take her away from him.

"Eric will be over later to drop off Speed's birthday present," she said, "I said we could keep it safe until the party this weekend… I hope you don't mind".

"Speed?" Horatio echoed. Speed was alive?

"Silly," she scolded, lightly swatting him with her sun hat, "It's Speed's 38th birthday on Saturday. Don't tell me you forgot".

"I… I didn't forget".

"Good; because he said that if you don't get him a present, he'll never let you live it down".

He bit down on his tongue to keep the tears that welled up from falling. Marisol and Speed were both alive? Did he die last night? Is this what heaven is like? Even if he was dead, he wouldn't wish things to be any different. He was happy now.

"Ray called," she continued, "he said that if my parents got us for Thanksgiving, then he should get us for Christmas. Apparently Ray Jr. just doesn't enjoy the holidays if you aren't there".

"Ray…" he said softly. He got to see his little brother again? The first thing he'll do will be to give him a bear hug like he used to when they were kids, then tell him not to scare him anymore… then tell him that he loves him.

"Oh," she jumped, obviously a little too excited for this early in the morning, "he also told me that your mother is coming down from New York and is bringing her boyfriend. He thinks that this guy could really be the one. Sensitive and artistic… just the type of man she needs".

"Mom…"

Horatio's breaths shook. He lost the battle as a tear slid down his cheek. A smile spread across his lips as another fell. He needed to laugh, but could only gasp for breath as the tears stole whatever voice he could muster up.

"Horatio?" she cooed, looking over at him, "You're crying".

He nodded, but still couldn't speak. He tried to wipe the tears away, but ended up only clearing the path for more to come. Soon he wasn't able to stand, and he fell limply onto the soft ground.

"Are you okay?" she asked, worry in her tone as she knelt down next to him, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he was finally able to say with a smile.

With that he tackled her onto the sand, listening to her laugh. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his neck, unable to see the tears of joy that steamed down the side of his face.

"Nothing will ever be wrong ever again," he gasped, hardly able to breathe he was so overwhelmed.

"Horatio," she giggled, "I can't breathe, you're holding me too tight".

"I'm sorry," he murmured, letting go and sitting her up.

She watched as the tears died down and her husband was able to breathe properly again.

"You sure you're okay?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sure," he sighed, "I'm sure… now… let's watch that sunrise".

She smiled as he draped an arm over her shoulders, her own slinking around his waist and pulling him close. Sure enough and right on cue, the sun began to rise over the ocean. The light caught a wave and shone into Horatio's baby blues, making him squint. Marisol chuckled, handing him his sunglasses.

"Thank you," he smiled, putting them on.

"Where would you be without them?" she grinned after rolling her eyes.

"Where would I be without you?"

The sensation of a sweet and innocent kiss being placed on his cheek was the last thing that Horatio could remember.

Soft blue eyes fluttering open, Horatio looked around his bedroom. It was still dark outside, the morning blueness only just evident in the piece of sky he could see from the bed. He stirred, suddenly becoming aware of a weight that was resting on his side. It was an arm.

As he reached down to feel the hand that held him, Horatio's mind fought a subconscious battle. Part of him was struggling to keep the dream as a memory; another part of him was trying to remember what happened the night before. He felt the hand; it obviously belonged to a man, making everything come back to him.

It was a dream.

Careful not to disturb his sleeping partner, Horatio sat up and looked down at Mac. His body quickly punished him for sitting, and with a soft groan of discomfort, he positioned himself to a less painful configuration.

Where's Marisol?

It was a question that broke his heart every time it crossed his mind; but that didn't mean he would stop trying to answer it. He climbed out of bed and pulled on his robe. As he had done for numerous mornings and countless sleepless nights, Horatio left the bedroom and went on to search every room in the house for her.

He knew that he would never find her. But maybe, if for some reason he could one day, he just needed to check.

***

He returned to the bedroom about fifteen minutes later. His heart was aching from his fruitless search.

His eyes scanned over Mac's body… the body of the man he let take him last night. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

He didn't want to think of being in a relationship with anyone but Marisol. And even with her, he just wished he could hold her again. Sex wasn't nearly as important as the comfort he needed to feel.

He crossed he room, picking up their wedding photo as he did. He never should have put it down… he never should have begun to think that anyone could fill the void he felt in his soul.

He opened the door to the balcony, stepping out and checking the beach one last time.

Feeling lost and helpless, he carried the photograph close to his chest. He sat down in the corner, looking out at the ocean and resting his back against the house. His eyes filled with tears as he gently pressed his lips against the top of the little silver frame.

***

Mac looked down at Horatio in silence. He noticed that the phrase "HC + MD" was spelled out in pebbles on the tiled ground.

Kneeling down by Horatio's side, Mac gently rubbed the younger man's back. Horatio turned his face away as more tears fell.

"Do you want me to leave?" Mac asked softly.

Horatio nodded. He didn't want to be rude, but all he really wanted at that moment was to be alone. And although those words remained unsaid, Mac seemed to know. He remembered how long it took him to move on from his wife's passing… how the beach ball with her breath in it still sat in the closet. That was eight years ago. It was too soon for Horatio.

"Then I'll go," he whispered, stroking the other man's hair for possibly the last time.

Mac gave him a long and sad look before returning to the bedroom to pack up his things. He pulled a shirt out of his suitcase, deciding to continue his search for the hotel and see out his stay… even if he couldn't be with Horatio.

Picking up the lube, he looked at it with an air of regret and guilt. It felt wonderful when it happened, but he didn't expect it to hurt Horatio so much the next morning. Wanting to move on, but still feeling a little hurt, he tossed it back into the suitcase.

"I'm sorry, Mac," Horatio said softly, placing the photograph back onto the dresser, "I don't know what's come over me".

"It's alright," he sighed, collecting his discarded clothes from last night and tossing them into his luggage, "I didn't mean to push you".

"You didn't".

There was a pause between them, Mac had stopped packing as they just stood there looking into each other's eyes.

"You don't have to go," Horatio finally said, "in fact I'd like it if you could stay for a few days. I… I just need a few more hours of sleep. I should be okay after that".

"Are you sure?"

The redhead nodded, "go downstairs, eat whatever you want, watch some TV, take a shower. It doesn't matter much to me. I… I'm just a little overtired right now".

Mac walked up to Horatio and pulled him into an embrace. The two stayed like that for a long moment, Horatio burying his face into Mac's shoulder. The brunette gently took the lieutenant by the chin, leaning in and gently giving him a kiss on the forehead.

Horatio was taken by the hand and gently led to his own bed. Soon blankets surrounded him and Mac was drawing the heavier curtains that lay under the sheer white ones. Squirming out of his robe and once again feeling his bare skin rub against the cool and soft sheets, Horatio finally felt a serene expression drift across his face. Mac couldn't help but to smile himself as he finished tucking the younger man into bed.

The room now dark, Horatio turned onto his side, curling up into a ball and getting comfortable. Mac tussled his copper hair a little bit before deciding to leave him to sleep while he went to make himself some breakfast.

"Get some sleep, Horatio," Mac whispered over his shoulder before he closed the bedroom door, "sweet dreams".