On last night's preview for the new CSI: Miami, it said that Horatio had to face his secrets and that he was being indicted to Rio, Brazil for the murder of Antonio Riaz. Here's an emotional, angst-ridden, slightly spiritual piece of the fight between Riaz, Eric, and our believed redhead… all from Marisol's POV. (She's deceased… I know. But can't angels watch from the Corcovado Mountain in front of Christ the Redeemer?!)

Spoilers for 05x01: Rio.

I don't want to own CSI: Miami. At least, not right now.

Whisper to Me

The sun shone down on the state of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, South America at one PM as a figure materialized out of thin air, sitting down upon a rail near the edge of the Corcovado Mountain. Her wavy brown hair past her shoulders swayed in the gentle breeze, her hazel eyes watching the Sugarloaf Mountain. She couldn't help but feel a sense of love and sadness as she watched the two combatants face each other. The odds weren't in his favor.

Marisol Delko Caine took a shuddering sigh and took a glance up at Christ the Redeemer. "I know you can hear me," she muttered, tears glistening in her eyes. "But don't you think you can change this? I know Horatio wants to avenge my death… but this isn't the way to do it."

A gentle voice whispered in her ear. "It must be done, Marisol. I'm sorry, but this is how it was supposed to be."

"Must I watch?" she asked bitterly, trying to look away.

"Yes. I'm afraid you must. I must as well… even if I cannot be there with you in the flesh."

It was pointless to argue with him. Marisol knew that she wouldn't win and would have to watch Eric and Horatio face the consequences in the future. She sighed and turned back towards the scene, where Eric lashed out and gave Riaz a right hook to the jaw. She gasped. "Oh, my god. Eric…"

But there was something else she feared. She wasn't worried… she was fearful.

Horatio was coming.

He was practically bubbling- no, erupting- with hatred. She swallowed, taking some deep breaths and keeping focused on the fight in front of her. Marisol was never one for watching people destroy each other, even if it was over a loved one or for a good cause. She felt sickened to see Riaz again, but she wanted Eric to stop this fight. She didn't know why, but…

Horatio.

There was the vibe again. He was becoming angrier. And for a good reason. He was on the top of the mountain, staring at the battle from thirty feet away.

Now, being an angel had its perks. Marisol was able to listen in on conversations and watch things from miles away if need be. Granted, she didn't have a pair of wings, but having those two "upgrades" was enough for her. And she figured that right now would be a good time to use these new enhanced senses to their full advantage.

After closing her eyes for a moment and losing herself, she opened them and cringed, tears threatening to overcome her. Indeed, she had been told the outcome of the fight, but she couldn't help but plead silently that Eric wouldn't die. The knife… it was so close to him… "Can't we intervene or something?!" she burst out in despair.

"No. You know that, Mari," the voice told her calmly but firmly.

She ran her fingers through her hair, tears stinging her eyes again. "Damnit…"

Horatio picked up the knife. Marisol bit her lip, her ears perking up.

Swoosh. The knife was up against Riaz's neck as Horatio grabbed him from behind slightly. "Antonio," he whispered in his ear, his eyes merely slits. "I unwisely showed you compassion the last time we met."

Riaz grunted. Marisol could practically see the venom dripping from Horatio's mouth. Eric struggled with the knife, having been pinned down by one of Riaz's attempts to try and kill him. It was a horrifying sight in her eyes as she wrung her hands. "Horatio… don't do it," she whispered.

"This time, you won't be so lucky," he continued, the knife dangerously close to Riaz's neck. "Where is my nephew?"

Riaz gave a small smirk, despite his current position- near an upset lieutenant and equally ticked off CSI. "You'll never find your nephew."

Oh, right. And she liked that one weird Stetler guy.

Eric forced Riaz off with a groan, pushing him away and scrambling to his feet. Horatio kept a firm hold on the knife, taking controlled breaths. Marisol blinked. "How can he do it? How can he possibly stay so calm and controlled?"

The voice chuckled. "Vengeance. Hatred. Drive. I am as surprised as you are, little one."

"Easy, Eric," Horatio commanded him softly, as if easing a growling dog. "Easy."

Eric looked about ready to pounce on Riaz. And frankly, Marisol didn't blame him.

Her former husband's voice was low, dangerous, threatening. It sent a shiver down her back as she watched the fire in his eyes burn out of control. Her nails dug into her palms as she watched the next fifteen seconds with her own wide eyes. "Now, Antonio," he told him calmly, sincerely. "This is your last chance. Where's my nephew?"

Marisol thought he actually wanted to give him a chance. But these hopes were dashed a few seconds later.

Riaz snickered. "You still didn't understand, huh, Caine?"

Horatio merely gave the drug dealer and killer a small smile.

With a loud roar, he rushed forth, knife in his hand, and…!

Stab.

Marisol screamed in horror, her cry not heard by her lover, who kept the body up as he whispered in Riaz's ear.

"Don't I? Don't I, Antonio?"

Out came the weapon. Riaz dropped to his knees as Horatio stepped back; Riaz's eyes were closed. Horatio looked away for a moment before turning around and staring at the dead body with disgust.

Marisol put her head in her hands. "I can't watch anymore. Please… please…"

"I understand," the voice whispered softly. "I understand completely, Marisol."

She wept finally, sitting on the railing and shaking her head. "Does he not realize what he has done?!" she sobbed. "Does he not realize that this will come back?! This will haunt him forever! I know it will!"

She slowly disappeared, her transparent features fading away. The white dress left no trace that she had been there.

The voice sighed. "It will haunt him. He will have to face his secret a year and a half from now, Marisol. And even I don't know what will hold in store for him."

Horatio looked back up at Christ the Redeemer, feeling a strange sensation that someone had been watching him.

'Marisol?' he thought. 'Are you there?'

Marisol swallowed and appeared back in a large room with a banquet table. Tim Speedle looked away, his face etched with shame. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you, Mari."

"But you were," she told him softly, wiping her face. "You were there. In spirit, but not physically watching the fight."

The voice of Tim Speedle rang in her ears as she walked out of the room.

"It will haunt him. He will have to face his secret a year and a half from now, Marisol. And even I don't know what will hold in store for him."

-looks up- Oh, you're done? Okay. Then do me a favor and review. A little. Maybe…