(I was sorting through old stories and found this one. Wasn't sure whether to publish it at all. I'll put a warning on it, but I quite liked it - in an odd way - so thought I'd share it.)

BROTHERS TO THE END

Thinking back, Eric remembered how blue the sky was, how warm the sunshine… And the glint of the sun on metal on the roof, even as Horatio yelled, 'Sniper!', and they ran. The only shelter was the car, twenty yards or more away.

Horatio was running slightly ahead of him, but seemed to slow for a step, so they were side by side, H putting himself between the gunman and him. Even at that moment, Eric remembered hoping H was wrong, that the glint of metal was something innocent.

Then the shot, faint over the distance, slamming into his boss's body, hurling him into Eric, so they both went down. Eric scrambled to his knees, unhurt, with Horatio's body across his lap.

"H, how bad?" He pulled him up against his chest, holding him, and immediately felt the lack of strength, the breath already labouring. He had his answer.

Pulling his cell out with his free hand, he yelled for Rescue, then dropped the phone to catch Horatio's grasping hand.

"Hold on, brother, just hold on," he murmured, gripping him hard, but feeling almost no response in the other man's fingers.

His boss's jacket had fallen open, revealing the spreading blood on his shirt. Eric bent forward to see his face properly. The blue eyes were wide open, still focussed. He looked surprised more than anything.

"H, look at me… Keep looking at me."

"Eric…" He forced the name out in a choked whisper and blood ran from the corner of his mouth.

He blinked as if to clear fading vision. Eric knew he was fighting, but had nothing left to fight with. The eyes seemed to lose focus, the pupils dilating slightly. Eric hugged him close.

"Horatio, don't go… Don't leave us…" He was weeping now. "Don't leave me…"

Horatio spoke once more, and Eric had to lean close to hear him. He whispered, a question. "Mari?" and Eric felt him die. His body went limp, his eyes blank.

"No…" Then shouting, "No!" He groped for the phone, murmuring, "Not you… Oh, not you…" He spoke softly into the phone, "Cancel Rescue… I need… the ME. Tom… Get Tom here. And… Ryan Wolfe…"

He dropped the phone and gathered the body closer, holding the auburn head against his chest, and kissing his forehead. He looked into those blue eyes for the last time, then gently pressed them closed.

It was how Ryan found him. He knelt down. "Oh my God… Eric… Is he…?"

"He's gone. Sniper shot…"

Ryan reached out for the body, but Eric pushed him away. "No, not yet."

"Where was the sniper? Do you know?"

Eric looked up for a moment, tears streaming down his face, and nodded towards the building. "Rooftop."

Ryan stood up, and Eric distantly heard him calling the rest of the team. "This is the only crime in Miami today."

Eric held Horatio until the ME arrived, then allowed Tom Loman and Ryan to lift the body gently out of his arms and lay him on the ground. They rolled him onto his side.

"No exit wound," Tom said quietly. "I'm so sorry, Eric… He looks at peace…"

"He didn't seem to suffer. He was conscious for thirty seconds… less…"

Tom nodded. "Very severe trauma and the brain stops receiving the pain signals."

Eric got stiffly to his feet. Calleigh and Walter arrived, Calleigh in tears.

Tom looked up at the distraught team. "There's nothing for me to do here. Let me take him home."

Eric and Tom lifted him gently onto the gurney and wheeled it to the waiting van. Only then did Tom zip the body bag.

"Calleigh… You're the boss," Ryan said.

"Right. Oh God… Right." She struggled to pull herself together. "Eric… What happened?"

"We were called here… a hoax, I presume. Sniper shot… from that roof." He pointed. "Single shot. Not a through and through… So no evidence here… He lived for about thirty seconds…"

"Eric, just photograph the scene… note the positions. Usual, you know the drill. Then go back to the lab and write it up." She hugged him gently. "We'll go up to the roof."

"But I -"

"Go and be with Horatio," she said.

Eric processed the scene. A few drops of blood, their positions, that of the car… Nothing really… Nothing to mark such a tragedy. He got into the Hummer and drove slowly back to the lab, parking up, and going straight to the morgue.

Horatio's body lay on the table, naked under a sheet, but with his handsome face uncovered. Tom Loman stood looking down at him, his hand resting on the auburn hair.

Eric spoke softly. "Do you have to cut him?"

"You know I do. I'll be very careful with him."

"Tom…"

"You go, Eric. You shouldn't watch this. I'll come and find you. All his personal effects are there…"

Eric nodded, picking up the sad bundle. The badge lay on the top. He carried the pile up to the lab and sat staring at it for a minute. Then he carefully removed the badge and ID and put them to one side. He unclipped the holster. Horatio had not even drawn his weapon, knowing it would have been useless against a sniper, and that he'd run more easily without holding it… He carefully examined the blue shirt, a bullet hole, and the spreading blood stain… not that much blood really… The black Armani suit - H's 'uniform'… Eric noted the corresponding bullet hole in it, near the right shoulder. He emptied the pockets… sunglasses - of course, wallet, keys… All the usual minor paraphernalia that a CSI kept handy. Blue boxers, black shoes, and socks. And that was all. Eric divided the clothes into evidence bags and labelled them. There was nothing to process. It was all completely obvious. He put the badge, ID and gun into the safe. He wondered how they'd dress him for burial - how, and who… Probably not in police uniform, though he still had every right to it. He smiled briefly, wondering if H even owned a uniform that fit. Whatever he wore though, he'd be wearing his badge. Eric waited for Tom.

The autopsy took only an hour, meaning it was the minimum allowed by law. Tom came to find him, depositing a small evidence bag, containing a bloody bullet.

"Tom? Could I have saved him?"

"No, Eric." The ME's voice was gentle. "It wasn't survivable. Do you… want the details?"

Eric nodded.

"The bullet went into his right shoulder, through his right lung, shattered his sternum, and ricocheted into his left lung. A chip of bone from his sternum transected the aorta. So both his lungs and his blood supply had gone. He couldn't have lived more than seconds… And he didn't suffer…"

"Thank you, Tom. Can I come down?"

"Of course." They walked down together. "Would you like to be alone with him?" And Tom disappeared to his office.

Horatio lay as before, his face uncovered. Eric rested a hand on his forehead, imagining there was still a slight warmth there. There was a serenity in the face that had rarely been there in life. Eric stroked the red hair.

His brother - actually his brother-in-law - but they had been brothers under the skin and in their hearts, well before Horatio had married Eric's sister. Closer still after Marisol died. He thought again of H's last whisper, 'Mari?', as if he saw her. Maybe he did. He looked peaceful. Eric hoped he was. His boss had had precious little peace in his life.

Eric was not his next-of-kin. The man's only living relative was his teenage son, serving in Afghanistan. He'd have to be contacted…

"Oh, H…" he murmured. "Why you? Of all of us, why you?" It wasn't just the love he felt for the man, it was the recognition that Horatio was, quite simply, the best of the best. Men like him did not come along very often, and the loss to the service was immense and irreplaceable. There was nothing to be done now, except to find his killer. Eric bent and kissed his forehead. "Goodbye," he whispered. "Rest easy…"