Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Rick Stetler
Word Count: 457
Summary: Horatio through Rick's eyes.
Series: Slash Me Twice
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
May I confess something to you?
You’ve heard me idolize him for some time now. Horatio, I mean. But what I’m having a difficult time understanding is why he could ever want someone like me. He’s so precise and definite while I’m just… illogical? Is that the word I’m looking for? My thought process is messy because my temperament’s chaotic, let’s just leave it at that.
I don’t know. I try to be classy, I guess, with the suits and the champagne. There aren’t many ways to get Horatio Caine’s attention if you’re not in a position he can easily take pity on. Don’t let word get around, but that’s what I felt about Julia and Marisol. One had cancer and the other has God-knows-what. They were both clear candidates for his affections. Someone he can protect against that horrible reality that would sooner leave them to die in a ditch than even try to give a fuck.
I’m sure that if I had a terrible disease and voices in my head that told me to shoot up the morgue he could love me too.
No. That’s a terrible thing to say. He wouldn’t fall for anyone who would think that. He hasn’t before.
And that’s what gives me pause. He hasn’t before. Well, I never intended to be like the others. For all these years he has fallen into relationships that put him into a position that he could so easily get hurt in. If those women really knew Horatio, then they would know that he would sooner blame himself than anyone or anything else once the slightest thing goes wrong. Think about that and then look at how they all either left or went and died on him.
What must go through his mind…
I know I wouldn’t be like them. If he was with me, he would know that he doesn’t have to always be the protector. He doesn’t always have to be a sacrifice. I could never want him to feel that way.
I would let him cry. He wouldn’t have to be strong for me. I would want him to cry on my shoulder every night if it meant that each morning he could feel just a little lighter. If with each day one of the ghosts would let him have some peace. Progress would be slow, but it would undeniably be there.
Because I’ve heard many times of how he is on the field. He may be a little hostile, but it’s not the underlying cause. He’s just scared. Who wouldn’t be?
I know I’m abrasive. I’m vengeful, moody, abusive, and a little arrogant. But at least I never broke his heart… like everyone he gives a damn about did.