Down to One

Author: NotasboredasIlook

Rating: M for profanity, violence and adult situations.

Disclaimers: CSI: Miami and the characters belong to CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer and they have far more time and money than I do. I'm just using the products of their genius for nonprofit fun.

Category: DuCaine. Angst/Drama/Romance

Summary: Her heart was the traitor.

Timeline: CSI: Miami Season 8 through "Bad Seed." After that I take our team in a different direction. No Kyle in Afghanistan and no more Delko and Calleigh rendezvous'. This is a continuation from "Her Dark Life." If you haven't read that, you may get a bit lost.

Status: Complete

Chapter 17

The heavy rain and winds whipped against the windows of the dark office building. In his 50-plus years of living in Miami, Sam Rutherford was more than familiar with the angry weather the city would occasionally experience. The weather here was like his ex-wife, Elenora: Beautiful but unpredictable. One second pleasant and lovely, the next violent and ugly.

Because he had survived marriage to a woman like that for 27 years before finally walking out the door, he figured a little storm couldn't hurt him. Leaning against his vacuum, he paused to look out the rain-streaked window. Every few seconds the clash of thunder would rumble and a bolt of lightning would streak across the sky. He counted the seconds in between the two, each time never making it very far. He didn't need to count, however, to know that the storm had firmly settled in its place.

Shrugging, he bent down on knees that trembled from too many years of hard labor and yanked the vacuum's power cord out of the wall. Rolling the cord loosely onto his arm, he started down the dark hallway of the Miami-Dade Police Department's Administration Building. It was late at night, and Sam was about halfway through his shift. For a moment, he debated on whether or not to go ahead and take his lunch break or to finish the individual offices first.

It was then he noticed a blue light coming from under one of the office doors. Since it was nearly 11 p.m. and rarely was there anyone at the admin building this late other than him, Sam figured that one of the bosses had left their computer on. Normally, he would have left well-enough alone, but he had strict instructions to make sure all computers, copiers and printers were powered down in the event of severe weather. He never really understood why that particular task was important, but he wasn't getting paid to ask questions. He just did as he was told.

Unclipping his keys from his belt, he slipped the right key into the lock and opened the door.

"Excuse me."

The man's stern and reprimanding voice caught Sam totally off-guard and the janitor jumped back slightly into the hallway.

"Oh, beggin' your pardon Lieutenant," Sam apologized, wringing his age-weathered hands. "I didn't know you was here."

Stetler narrowed his eyes at the elder man wearing the tan coveralls. The man looked remorseful enough: Looking down at his shuffling feet and twisting his keychain around his fingers, he looked like a child that was awaiting some kind of punishment for stepping out of line.

Sighing, Stetler waived a hand at Sam and turned his attention back to his computer.

"It's all right … Steve, is it? I was just finishing up. Give me a few minutes and you can do what you need to."

Sam didn't show his annoyance at Stetler's mistake. He knew it would do him more harm than good to do so.

"Okay, sir," he said. Pushing his vacuum a little further down the hall. "Sorry 'bout that. Have a good night."

Stetler didn't respond to the custodian. Instead, he lightly clicked his computer mouse and watched the video play out in front of him again, a smug smirk pulling at the right corner of his mouth. He had received the disc late in the afternoon and spent the last several hours studying it. Satisfied that he was finally getting somewhere, he closed the video out and ejected the disc, tucking it into the open briefcase next to his printer. Then, clicking on the e-mail icon on his desktop, he opened a new message and started typing.

Fifteen minutes later, he took several documents off his printer, tucked them neatly into a file folder and then placed that on top of the DVD in his briefcase. Switching off his printer and computer, Stetler stood, picked up the case, grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and walked out.

As he was about to close the door, he ran into Sam, who was pushing the vacuum out of the office next to his. Nodding at the man, Stetler shifted his jacket over his arm.

"It's all yours, Steve," he said arrogantly. "Don't work too hard."

Sam leaned against the vacuum and grunted softly, his tan, balding head and brow glistening with a sheen of sweat.

"If ya don't mind me askin' sir, why is you here this late?"

Stetler turned and walked down the hall away from the other man.

"Oh, I'm just doing a little house cleaning of my own," he replied over his shoulder as he strolled away. "Good night."

"Evenin'," Sam grumbled, pushing the fancy Dyson vacuum into the rude lieutenant's office.

Eventually, he was down to his last office in this part of the building. Grateful that his break was just around the corner, he smiled as the idea of his sandwich and a hot cup of coffee.

Stopping at the door, he took his dusting rag from the back pocket of his coveralls and swiped it once over the nameplate, shining it up nice for the person who occupied this particular space. Capt. Sevilla had always been nice to him and treated him well, much better than guys like that Stetler-character. In kind, he always put a little extra into cleaning her office. Though his Pappy would have thought the idea of a woman police officer to be a hoot, Sam respected her. He swept the vacuum over the carpet three times (the other offices usually got one sweep unless they were really messy), double-checked her windows to make sure they were closed and locked tightly and ran the dust cloth over her bookcases, filing cabinets and computer.

When he swept the rag over her computer keyboard, he jumped when the screen flared from dark to bright. Never having owned a computer and knowing next to nothing about them (other than how to push the power button to turn them off), Sam had no idea that the computer had been in "sleep" mode. In his inadvertent attempt to clean her desk, Sam had hit a key, which opened Captain Sevilla's e-mail. Fascinated – and a little nervous – by the technology, the janitor didn't realize that the message he was reading, which was in preview mode, was a sensitive personnel matter.

All he knew was the line at the top read "Internal Affairs Investigation Initiated. Subject: Crime Scene Investigator Det. C. Duquesne"

Sam knew he wasn't a well-educated man, and he had no idea what some of the message's contents meant. Phrases like "evidence collected by this investigator reveals a reckless lapse in judgment" and "potential liability to the reputation of the MDPD CSI lab," were a little lost on him.

But he was not a stupid man. When he read "recommendation to place CSI Duquesne on administrative leave pending investigation results," he knew whomever this Duquesne person was, she was about to lose her job.

Suddenly disturbed and feeling a bit guilty about what he was reading, Sam pushed down on the power button until the screen went black again. Wiping down the desk one last time, the janitor retrieved his vacuum and walked out the door, silently wishing Miss Duquesne good luck.

"What were you saying about a little rain, Dad?"

Kyle grinned as he propped his feet up on his father's soft couch and rested his hands behind his head. Outside, the passing storm wailed away. He watched with intrigue as the wind whipped the ocean waves furiously and lightning danced across the night sky. Storms had always been oddly calming to Kyle. A trait he knew he hadn't received from his mother who would whimper and curl up into a ball at the first sound of thunder.

"I hope I'm never like her," he thought grimly, remembering all the times Julia had scared him or let him down.

Frowning at where these thoughts were taking him, he looked over at his father, who was busying himself with the television.

"I'm a CSI, son. Not a meteorologist," Horatio returned as he placed a copy of "Field of Dreams" in the DVD player. "Remind me to lend you the book this film is based on, it's an excellent read."

Kyle huffed and stood as the microwave "pinged".

"I did so much reading last semester, it will be awhile before I pick up another book voluntarily," he replied as he padded into the kitchen to retrieve their popcorn. "What do you want to drink?"

Horatio sat down on the far end of the sofa and leaned his head back. His body was exhausted, but his heart was bursting with life.

"I'll take a bottle of water, son," he called back to the kitchen.

"Two bottles of water and some movie treats coming up," Kyle shot back as he emptied the bag of popcorn into a large bowl.

At a loud crash of thunder, the elder Caine raised his head and stared out the window. The storm was much heavier than he had anticipated and it looked like it was going to hold on for a while.

"I think you should stay here tonight, Kyle," he said as his son returned to the living room with an armful of snacks and bottles of water. "I don't want you to drive back to the dorms in this weather. I have a room set up for you, you know."

Kyle nodded as he shoveled a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "I know," he said with his mouthful.

He finished chewing and took a swig of his water. Over their vacation, his father had asked him if he wanted to move in for the summer, but Kyle had declined. While he wasn't taking summer classes, he found that being on campus made it easier for him to remain focused on his academics and his future. That, and he wanted to remain close to Cassie who was taking summer classes. Being the supportive person he always was, his father said he understood and didn't push Kyle any further on the matter.

"That's cool of you, Dad," he continued as he picked up the remote and handed it to Horatio. "I think I will crash here."

"Wow, I get control of the remote, too," Horatio joked. "I'm on a roll."

Kyle laughed. "That's only because I want control of the popcorn."

Laughing in response, Horatio started the movie. As Kevin Costner walked around the solitary green cornfield onscreen, Kyle held the bowl over to his dad, who took a handful with a smile.

By the time the end credits started rolling, Kyle's head was resting on the back of the couch and he was snoring softly. The empty bowl of popcorn and water bottles sat on the floor between them. Turning off the television, Horatio yawned and stretched. The hour was late, and both men had to get up early for work the next morning.

Reaching down, Horatio picked up the empty containers and carried them into the kitchen. Setting the bowl and the bottles on the counter, he rolled his neck and allowed his mind to wander to what possibilities awaited him at the lab the next day: Specifically with Calleigh in the gun vault. Remembering their earlier tryst in his office, he shook his head. They had agreed to be more guarded at work, not wanting to give IAB any ammo against their professionalism and reputations. Making love on his desk was not really along the lines of being discrete.

But being with Calleigh had definitely made him more spontaneous. He would say that. And when he thought about it, it was a good thing. He was hopeful for the future: A future with her. They were still new to each other in this sense, but for Horatio, there would never be anyone else. Calleigh had his heart. He had willingly given it to her: Just as she had given him hers.

And that shared trust meant everything to him. It was a strong foundation; one they were beginning to build a life on.

Sighing, Horatio turned the light off in the kitchen and went to wake Kyle so the young man could get a good night's sleep in a proper bed. Reaching out, he rested his hand on Kyle's shoulder and gave him a light shake.

The movement did not wake him. Before Horatio could try again, however, his phone rang loudly from the side table. The continued ringing stirred Kyle, who opened his eyes and lifted his head.

"Is that mine or yours?" the young man asked groggily.

Frowning at the late hour and hoping that it wasn't work-related, Horatio walked over and picked up his cellular. However, when he saw the name on the display, he suddenly wished it had been a call-out.

"It's mine, son," he responded sadly. "I need to take this. Why don't you hit the sack?"

But Kyle was already shuffling off down the hall. "Night, Dad," he called out over his shoulder as he disappeared into his room."

Closing his eyes, Horatio pressed the TALK button and held the phone up to his ear.

"This is Horatio Caine," he said glumly. There was no reasonable explanation for it, but he knew in his heart that something very, very bad had happened.

"Mr. Caine, this is Doctor Ambrose," the familiar voice stated solemnly. "I'm sorry to call so late, but I'm afraid I have some difficult news."

Clutching the phone tightly in his hand, Horatio sat on the arm of the sofa and looked down. He knew the truth already in his heart.

"She's gone, isn't she?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, before the doctor finally responded.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Caine. Ms. Winston has passed."

Though the storm was raging harder outside, Horatio heard nothing other than the Glendale Springs' doctor's words.

"Julia's dead, Julia's dead, Julia's dead," repeated in his mind over and over.

He looked down the hall to Kyle's room as tears formed at the corners of his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it when the lump in his throat wouldn't allow the words to come. Finally, he was able to utter one, single word:

"How?"

"Somehow, Ms. Winston eluded bed check tonight," Ambrose explained gently. "She went to the roof of the main facility and … and she jumped. At the moment, I don't have the details of how she was able to get around security. Two nurses and a security guard who were coming onto their shifts saw her and tried to stop her, but she didn't respond to their attempts to calm her down. Once she jumped, there was nothing anyone could have done."

Horatio hung his head again. "I see."

"She left two notes," the doctor continued. "One for you and another for someone named Kyle. Unfortunately, I have to turn the case over to the sheriff's office up here. The medical examiner's office will transport Ms. Winston's body to Miami once you arrive. I can put you in touch with …"

"Thank you, Doctor," Horatio cut him off. "I'll take care of it. I'll be there first thing in the morning."

Glendale Springs was located in Lake Wales, roughly three hours north of Miami. He knew someone at the Polk County Sheriff's Office and would reach out to him. But first, he would have to figure out how to tell his son – his son who was happy and content with his life, his son who had finally and deservedly found some peace – that his mother was dead.

"Of course," Ambrose replied. "Again, I am truly sorry for your loss. I will speak to you in the morning. You have my cell if you need anything before then."

Silently, Horatio ended the call and set his phone down. The last time he had seen Julia was months ago. She had been in treatment for her mental illnesses for a little over a year, but she was not progressing. In fact, her mental state had been deteriorating and she had become despondent and unresponsive to treatment.

Right before Easter, she had tried to drown herself in her bathroom sink, but was revived by a staff counselor who had come to check on her. Ambrose had called Horatio, who went to the facility to discuss new treatment options. It was then that Ambrose recommended Julia be placed on suicide watch in a special part of the treatment center.

Before he left Glendale Springs, Horatio sat for hours at Julia's bedside, holding her hand, begging God to heal her mind so that it would no longer torture her. True, their past had been clouded and built upon deceit: When they met, he was undercover and never told her the truth about his real identity. She disappeared without ever telling him she was carrying his child. When she returned to his life, she put Kyle in danger by associating with scum like Ron Saris and by refusing to get help for her illnesses.

Still, Horatio cared about her. After all, Julia had given Horatio the greatest gift in the world: A child. For that, he would always be indebted to her. And while Kyle was angry with his mother, Horatio had hoped that his son would one day put his aside his fear and frustration with Julia and forgive her of those past mistakes.

His eyes again returned to the room down the hall where Kyle was presumably sleeping. His son had suffered so much in his life. Now, just when Kyle was on the track to normalcy, Horatio was going to have to break his son's heart. The unfair cruelty of everything that young man had had to endure filled him with an unspeakable fury. Tears streaming down his red face, his shoulders began to shake with sobs of rage. Standing from the couch, his clenched and unclenched his fists until his knuckles turned white as he sought something to take this ravenous anger out on.

With an inhuman roar of anguish, he grabbed the side of a nearby end table and sent it crashing across the floor, the glass top shattering into millions of tiny shards.

"Tell me you're joking."

Swirling a glass of red wine in her hand, Natalia smiled and laughed at her friend. A wide-eyed Calleigh was covering her mouth with one hand, a mixture of surprise and amusement clear on her face.

Frankie's was a relatively new, but small, jazz bar that Natalia had discovered a few months ago. The décor was '60s retro and the drink menu was more or less the same. While most of her friends had found the bar's theme cliché and overdone, Natalia nonetheless liked the place and was glad that Calleigh seemed to be enjoying herself as well.

Leaning forward in her chair, Natalia pointed subtly to the bass player on the stage near their table.

"I'm a professional at observation," she said, "and I'm telling you that THAT man has been watching you ever since we came in here. You have an admirer. And a hot one at that."

Taking a sip of her Diet Coke, Calleigh turned her head slightly toward the stage to see if Natalia was right. Because the room was so small, roughly the size of the lobby at CSI, she was still able to get a good look, despite the fact that their table was in the back row. The musician in question, a gorgeous, well-built Latin man with thick dark hair and big brown eyes, immediately caught her eye. He smiled broadly and nodded at her.

"Oh my," Calleigh said, clearly flattered.

"See, I told you," Natalia responded with mock arrogance as she sipped her shiraz. "I'll bet you even money that when they take a break, he comes over here."

Calleigh chuckled uncomfortably. "That would be unfortunate for him. Yes, he is cute, but I'm not interested."

Natalia frowned. "Granted we don't know anything about him yet, but why not give him a chance? I would."

Her friend smiled enigmatically. She and Horatio still hadn't told anyone at the lab about their relationship, and while they both agreed they weren't going to lie about it, they also agreed that their personal lives were nobody's business but their own.

And there was that "forbidden" element that Calleigh secretly enjoyed.

Still, it couldn't hurt to let her friend know that she had someone in her life, she just wouldn't say who it was.

"Well then you can have him," she told Natalia. "This girl is off the market."

Now it was Natalia's turn to be surprised. "You're seeing someone?"

Calleigh's only response was a nod and a sip of her drink. Laughing, Natalia shook her head. When she thought about it, Calleigh had been acting like her old self again. Her positive, friendly demeanor was noticeable and she seemed much happier than she had been in a very long time.

But Natalia never figured that it had anything to do with a relationship. Her keen sense of observation had failed her on that account.

"Is Eric back?" she asked bluntly, assuming their former colleague and – awkwardly enough – flame had returned from his sabbatical in Puerto Rico.

Her friend sighed, and for a few moments, they only thing the two women could hear was the sound of rich jazz music flowing around them. Finally, Calleigh elaborated for Natalia.

"Eric and I have been over for a long time," she said slowly. "I'll always love him like family, but after he left, I came to realize that we had been together for the wrong reasons. So, no, to my knowledge he isn't back in Miami, and even if he was, it wouldn't matter. I have moved on … with someone who makes me happier than I ever thought I could be. What I have now is real, and it's right."

Her mouth curved up in a slow smile as she spoke, and Natalia knew she was sincere. So naturally, it begged the question:

"So who is this mystery guy?"

At that, Calleigh giggled and leaned back in her seat. "I plead the fifth … for now."

Natalia was about to protest, but Calleigh stood up from the table.

"Goin' to the ladies' room," she said lightly with a wave, leaving her friend's peaked curiosity hanging at the table.

Weaving her way through the crowded bar, Calleigh was not surprised to find herself in a line for the restroom. She waited patiently for her turn as two young women in front of her, one brunette and one bleached blonde, chattered away.

"Get over it already," the blonde said, "he's not worth it."

"I know that," the brunette retorted. "But that doesn't make it any less embarrassing."

"You are not the first person to get stood up, it happens," her friend shot back as she fished with her cell phone out of her ridiculously small purse. "The best thing you can do is move on, have some drinks, have some fun and forget about the jerk."

Calleigh grinned inwardly. "Been there, done that, sister."

But the brunette was too far into her own pity party to be placated.

"Easy for you to say," she whined, annoyed that her blonde friend was now paying more attention to the text message she was typing on her phone than she was to her predicament. "You weren't the one who got ditched by a dickhead."

Calleigh bit her lip, trying to hold back a laugh at the young woman's remark. She considered chiming in, telling the distraught woman that she will find the right man eventually, but ultimately decided against it. After all, it was none of her business.

"Ditched by a dickhead," Calleigh smirked, as she thought about the woman's statement. She would have to tell Natalia about that one.

But as the line slowly moved forward, something uneasy began to tug at Calleigh's mind, as if she had forgotten something important. Frowning, she went over possible work-related scenarios in her mind, wondering if she hadn't done something she was supposed to, but nothing came to mind.

She considered calling Horatio, just to check in and make sure everything was okay. She reached for her phone, only to remember that it was in her purse back at the table with Natalia.

Standing there in the dark and noisy room, she did all she could to clear her mind and focus on the memory that was eluding her.

In her mind's eye, she could see Horatio's back to her …

"… been ditched …"

Shaking her head, Calleigh tried to focus harder, digging deep to pull out that which was so elusive. For some reason, she strongly felt it had something to do with Horatio. Frustrated, she concentrated on the clearing the fuzziness surrounding the memory.

She was in her room, Horatio was walking away. She needed to tell him something … to stop him. He turns and faces her … "common" … common … something in common …

"Oh God."

A powerful feeling of dread washed over her with the memory of that night. Placing her hand over her mouth, she squeezed her eyes shut and groaned loudly, the pieces of that horrific experience falling into place in her mind …

"… been ditched …"

"We've both been ditched …"

"… ditched by a …"

"Delko."

The name left her lips as a whisper, but inside she was screaming at the bitter cruelty of it. She was flooded with guilt and shame. Everything was spinning. The music, the crowd noise, everything fell away as the memory played again and again in her mind. She prayed she was wrong, that it was nothing but a bad dream, but she knew in her heart that it had been real. That it really had happened. It all made sense now …

"Oh Horatio, I am so sorry," she thought shaking her head.

"Are you okay? You look like you are going to be sick."

Calleigh opened her eyes to see the brunette now looking at her with concern. The blonde next to her glanced up from her phone for a second than looked back down, nonplussed.

Saying nothing, the bathroom all but forgotten, Calleigh turned on her heal and pushed her way back to the table where Natalia sat nursing her drink. Startled by the upset expression on her friend's face as well as her abrupt return, she sat her glass down and stood up.

"Cal? What is it?" Natalia asked as a clearly distraught Calleigh snatched up her purse. "Are you okay?"

Calleigh rubbed her forehead and reached into her purse for money to cover the tab. She had only had a couple of soft drinks, and Natalia had been nursing the same glass of wine for almost an hour, but she still took out a couple of twenty-dollar bills, then grabbed her cell phone out of her bag.

"I'm fine, Nat," she said hurriedly. "I've got kind of an emergency. Here's some cash, would you mind paying the bill for me? I need to go."

Natalia put her hands up to calm the other woman. "Whoa, slow down," she responded. "What kind of emergency? What happened? Can I help?"

Holding the money out in front of her, Calleigh refused to meet Natalia's eyes. The horrid memory of her words played on repeat in her mind. She had to talk to Horatio. A-S-A-P.

"I can't really talk about it, I'm sorry," she said, lightly shaking the money in her hand. "Please, Natalia. This is how you can help me."

"Well, let me at least drop you off somewhere," Natalia responded in concerned exasperation. "I drove, remember? It's pouring outside and your car is still back at the …"

But Calleigh was already moving away from the table toward the door.

"Thanks, but I'll get a cab!" she called out over her shoulder as she pushed through the crowd.

Baffled, Natalia threw her hands up, grabbed her purse and started moving toward the bar to pay their bill.

Outside, Calleigh was immediately drenched in the rainfall. Unfazed by the cold, stinging water, she looked frantically up and down the streets for any sign of an available taxi. Traffic in the area was busy and several pedestrians frantically ran around her, trying to get out of the heavy wind and rain. Even in the worst weather, Miamians still wanted their nightlife.

At that moment, Calleigh could have cared less that is was raining. In fact, she could have been standing in a Category 4 hurricane and she wouldn't have noticed. There was one thing, and one thing only on her mind.

Hitting the "1" on her speed dial, she held her phone up to her ear and exhaled impatiently when his voicemail kicked on.

"This is Horatio Caine. Please leave a message."

"Damn it," she swore under her breath at the recording right before she heard the predictable "beep."

"Hi, it's me. I know it's late and I'm … I'm really sorry," she stammered, her throat clenching up at the idea that she had once hurt the man she loved. "I need to see you, tonight. I have to talk … to talk to you about something important and it can't wait. I'm on my way over now."

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the sight of a taxi's light bar coming her way. Holding her phone with one hand while she juggled her purse and tried to hail the vehicle with the other, Calleigh stepped off the curb into the street.

"I'll see you soon," she said into her phone. "I love -"

Her words were stopped short by harsh sound of squealing tires. Whipping around, she saw bright lights …

… and then darkness.

-END-

That is it for this one. There will be a new story in this series posted after the beginning of the new year, but for now, I'm taking a break to relax and regroup - sorta.

In the meantime, I would love to know what everyone thought of this chapter and/or this story as a whole. Any questions? Comments? Concerns?

Much love to all my readers and reviewers. You guys are so many kinds of awesome, you don't even know. :)

I wish everyone the happiest of holidays and a great start to 2011!