IV - Driven into a corner I'll fight
A Don/Ryan one-shot acting as a sequel to 'Quiet Lullaby', 'Drowned in Sorrow' and 'Things Unspoken'
Title: Driven into a corner I'll fight
Pairing: Ryan/Don
Rating: Rated NC-17 - just to be on the safe side
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI Miami or CSI New York.
Warning: Kinda AU as the prequels, violence, minimal amount of blood
Summary: One-shot
Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength. (August Wilson)
A/N: This fic is not beta-ed so if you find any errors, please let me know.
Driven into a corner I'll fight
Clouds and the sun.
It was the fight of two and neither wanted to lose.
Just the way it was right now.
In a fight between the sun and the clouds, sometimes the clouds would succeed in obscuring the sun and sometimes the sun would manage to break through again.
In a chase of two men, it was the same. Sometimes the hunted would extend his lead and sometimes the hunter would gain on his prey.
It was a law; a game Ryan cursed with all he had.
Panting, Ryan ran like a mad-man, jumping over bins and bottles and any obstacles that happened to obscure his path as he passed through the alley in a rush of adrenaline and determination.
His heartbeat had accelerated so much he could already feel it thumping in his head, a sensation he'd rather miss out on, if asked.
His lung was almost at its limit as well and every breath he took left a burning sting in his chest. He felt breathless and yet he couldn't stop.
Ryan hated the mess he'd gotten himself into, though he didn't know how exactly it had happened he had stumbled into this.
He'd been at a crime-scene, Don was there too. Seeing his lover had reassured him, working here in New York was still a little frightening to him, new colleagues, new city, a change of weather and all.
But Don had been there and for that he'd been glad.
He'd secretly smiled at his lover when Don told him he was going to speak to the neighbours.
And then everything had happened in a rush.
Ryan had gone into the bedroom to see if he could find a few clues there, as a man bolted out of the wardrobe behind the door and hopped out of the window to vanish down the fire-escape.
To be honest, Ryan's heart had stopped for a moment when the man appeared out of nothing. The guy probably had hidden in the cupboard when Don and the patrol arrived. They'd assumed the dead guy lying in the kitchen had been killed because he'd surprised the killer when the latter sifted through his apartment.
With all the stuff lying around the floor and the opened drawers and all, this had been a good guess. But nobody would have thought the killer/thief would still be there, persistent enough to find what he wanted even after he'd killed the owner.
It probably hadn't occurred to patrol or Don that the killer was somewhere hiding, with all the drawers and cupboards already open. One closed closet wouldn't have caught his eye in this mess.
Well, fact was Ryan had acted on instinct. Fuelled by the adrenaline of being startled he'd followed the suspect out onto the fire-escape, just barely remembering to call a warning to patrol.
He didn't know if they'd heard him or registered his call in any way but he didn't have enough time to make sure. The guy was up and running down the street and if he wanted to catch him, Ryan had to take on pursuit without hesitation.
That's how he came to pursue a suspect through alleys and narrow streets, surprised at the speed of his prey.
Ryan threw a short glance back before he fastened his eyes on the suspect once again. Damn, still no reinforcements. He was probably on his own in this.
He willed his legs to move faster, suddenly glad he hadn't stopped training when he'd switched from patrol to CSI. Otherwise he presumably might not have been capable to keep up at all.
But even with his practice, the good shape he'd obtained during patrol, the suspect was far too fast to be your every-day killer. And while he ran, Ryan used the time to study his suspects movements accurately.
He'd been on the running team himself, back then when he'd been still in college. He recognised the skilled way the man in front of him moved. The way he brought up his knees while running, the way his heels didn't seem to touch the ground at all. It simply screamed of 'athlete' and a professional no less.
Damn.
Trying to ignore the shortness of breath that had set in some time during the chase, Ryan pushed himself once more. This couldn't be the end. He must not lose this suspect. He must not. What would Mac say if he didn't come up victorious after taking on such a mad pursuit? What would Don say if he lost the suspect after running off without saying so much a word? Ah, well.. he would be in trouble anyway.
But catching his prey would probably assuage the scolding he was going to receive.
Ahead he could discern the alley was coming to an end, instead leading into a harbour-estate at Hudson River.
Good. Maybe he would be able to overpower the man there.
He just dearly hoped the guy wouldn't jump into the Hudson or this was going to march upon a contest of 'iron-man'. And well, he sure wouldn't survive that.
Bursting into the more or less open harbour, he looked about wildly. Where had he gone? He couldn't see him. Maybe he had hidden behind the stacks of crates up ahead?
Drawing his gun, Ryan carefully slid in-between the stacks, groaning inwardly as he realised that there were far more crates than he'd first believed. Piles upon piles towered over him at each side, creating another kind of alley. Great, he couldn't see a thing. Had he lost him?
Damn, this would actually mean he'd exhausted himself all for nothing. Mac wouldn't like the result. His first chase in the city of New York and he'd blown it.
Gritting his teeth, Ryan inched along the wooden walls carefully. He didn't want that guy to surprise him like last time. He tried to calm his breathing that went like a wheezing, over-worked machine. Panting like this, the suspect would be able to hear him miles away.
Quickly, absently, he flicked his tongue out to wet his dry lips and he closed his mouth. Breathing through the nose was not as effective but sure as hell a lot more silent.
His cautiousness didn't help a thing, in the end.
He'd succumbed to a failure he hadn't made ever since he'd passed the Police Training Academy. He'd looked to the right, to the left and back again, but really, he should have looked up instead. All good things come from above, a sarcastic saying went. And sometimes.. that saying bit you in the ass in the worst moments possible.
He'd been about to turn another corner when he was kicked in the back. The kick threw him completely off balance and he tumbled down to the ground, his weapon sliding along the wet concrete, out of his reach.
Damn. Not his day. Definitely not his day.
As quick as he could he turned, only to receive a kick to his face which almost blew his lights out right then and there.
Yeah, sure. His suspect was an athlete, he should have known the guy would climb the crates instead of hiding in the passages between the piles.
Belatedly shaking his head to shake off the dizziness, Ryan didn't have enough time to roll away when his attacker jumped on him, obviously fed up with the idea of running.
Instinctively Ryan kicked out, hitting the man in the side and buying himself some more time to get his wits together.
Unfortunately, the guy was a much better athlete than he'd thought 'cause before Ryan had even succeeded in crawling half of he way over to his gun, the man was up and fighting again.
They had a short tumble of dominance which left Ryan breathless before he found himself with his back on the ground again, head bouncing painfully of the concrete and making him wince.
The man above him quickly seized the opportunity to nail his limbs to the floor with his weight and his hands went to Ryan's neck, choking him. “Fucking CSI”, he hissed. “You should have given up pursuit while you still could.”
'Hell', Ryan cursed as he fought for breath. Why did they all go for the neck?!
He experienced a short moment of panic when the fingers tightened precariously around his throat and he stared up at the red face of his attacker.
For a second the fury-filled expression flickered in front of his eyes like a broken TV and he saw the familiar, frightening face of his ex-lover.
His heart stuttered.
Then he gritted his teeth.
That man wasn't his ex-lover. This man was a suspect and this was work. He was on a job and he couldn't let his fear rule over every part of his life. And he sure as hell wouldn't allow another man to destroy everything he'd worked for.
Feeling suddenly angry, determination flooded every fibre of his body and he struggled, trying to buck and kick the man's legs out under him. He didn't quite succeed but the motion at least put his attacker out of balance (he wasn't his ex-lover, after all) and Ryan used the opportunity to break one of his hands free and punch the man in the face.
The suspect staggered, the angry expression replaced by one of pure surprise. It was only for a moment though, but it gave him enough time to pry one of the hands away from his neck.
~Don't struggle, my love. Or I'll have to hit harder.~
Shit.
The man pulled his fist back, returning the punch Ryan had so carefully placed on his face and Ryan felt pain flare up in his left cheek-bone.
He didn't blink though, for once thankful he'd received so many beatings that this punch seemed more like the kiss of a butterfly and was oh-so predictable as well. So instead of being dazed, Ryan immediately raised his left arm, hooked it around the man's head from the right and pushed. Hard.
It was a tactic he'd learned at the Academy and so far it had worked on many attacker, so on this one it did, too.
The man hadn't in the least expected such retaliation after a punch and he loosened his hold on Ryan's neck once more as he lost balance, which gave Ryan the perfect opportunity to roll them around.
In the blink of an eye he was on top of his attacker, gripping one of the man's arms and twisting it as his knee buried in the suspect's back, panting.
Yes.
Yes.
He had over-powered the guy.
It caused such a surge of pride in Ryan that he lingered for a moment and enjoyed the rush of adrenaline in his veins. If he had known how to fight like this while his ex-lover had still been alive, things might have gone different. As it was though, he had had to live through this experience and come out a lot smarter, and a lot more hardened to physical pain.
Just as he was about to apply the handcuffs Don and two patrol officer shot out of an alleyway of crates, all three of them breathing hard.
When Don noticed Ryan was in control of the situation, his stance immediately lost some of the tension. “You okay?” Don asked as he headed for his lover.
Ryan nodded, pulling the cursing man up from the concrete. “Yeah, bastard thought he could outrun me.”
Don studied Ryan's face with a worried frown and as soon as Ryan had handed over the suspect to the patrol officer, he gently grasped his lover's arm and led him a few steps away. “He obviously tried a lot more than that”, Don stated worriedly and Ryan quickly redirected his gaze from the patrol officer who brought the suspect away and back to his beloved.
For the first time Ryan took notice of the feel of blood trickling down from his cheek-bone, the vague thought that the suspect had worn a ring passing through his mind. Before he could help it, he compared the experience to a memory of his ex-lover, discovering that he'd lived through worse punches.
As quickly as the thought had come, Ryan pushed it away into a dark corner of his mind where it belonged and he wiped away the blood with the back of his hand. He bent down to pick up his gun, holstering it wordlessly before he turned back to Don.
“Are you really okay, baby?” Don asked in a lowered voice, worried frown marring his face as he studied Ryan's still panting form.
“Yeah”, Ryan said with the automatic smile he used to wear whenever he was feeling a little out of it. “Yeah.., just a bit out of breath.”
Don stepped closer, allowing both of them a moment of shared intimacy as he gently caressed his lover's hurt cheek with a thumb. “You don't look okay. Do you... is there anything you need?”
Ryan realised he must appear as wired as he felt, the reality of it all still not having sunk in and quickly he moved into Don's arms, enjoying the feel as they tightened around him.
Immediately he felt a little less tense, a little less taken back in time. “It's okay. I'm fine. It was just... a brawl.”
“He tried to kill you, Ryan. I wouldn't call this a brawl.”
A little surprised Don had noticed the marks on his neck right away, Ryan smiled softly. Trust in Don to pick up on everything. “I'm fine, Donnie. He just choked me. It wasn't that much of a deal.”
Don shook his head. “Just because you've lived through worse doesn't make it okay, babe. Nobody should hurt you.”
Ryan buried his face in Don's neck, inhaling the scent of the man he loved more than his life, wishing he would just let it go. “I know. I just-”
Don gently pushed him back, so he could look into Ryan's eyes when he lifted his chin. “He hurt you, Ryan. There's no 'just's or any 'but's. This might seem as a matter of course to you but for me it is not.”
Ryan felt his eyes water at Don's serious gaze and he blinked rapidly. No use in crying now, right? He'd thought he'd done the right thing but.. maybe he hadn't done anything right after all? Was he damaged goods? Was he defiled because he didn't pay any further attention to the violence he experienced? Was it.. was it wrong to compare every punch to the ones his ex-lover had graced him with, simply to renew his own will to fight back?
Don instantly softened when he saw the tears that had gathered in Ryan's face and he pulled him back into a tight embrace, burying his nose in Ryan's hair. “Don't Ryan. Don't do that.”
“Do what..?” Ryan asked, voice breaking.
“Don't try to blame yourself for something that isn't your fault. I know what you're thinking but it's not true.” Don gently started to rub soothing circles over Ryan's back, trying to stop his lover's tears as he nuzzled his ear lovingly.
“But you made it sound as if what I did was wrong..!” Ryan chipped in. “I stopped a suspect, I.. I had a brawl with him.. I caught him!”
“Yes”, Don said. “Yes and I'm very proud you managed to bring him down, no matter how hard he hit you. I just..I just wish you would take your own injuries a little more serious. That's all. Do you know what I mean?”
Ryan sighed and weakly nodded in his embrace. His hands twisted tighter in Don's shirt as he snuggled closer.
Don caressed the back of his lover's head affectionately, squeezing him tight. “Good. Let me know when you're hurting. Even if it's just a headache. I love you babe, I don't want you to ignore your pain. You don't need to suffer and most of all you don't need to do it alone. Just.. let me know if there's anything I can do.”
Ryan was silent for a while and Don wallowed in his lover's presence, loving the feel of Ryan's body and just being relieved that his lover was all right. After a moment his lover pulled back. “Then.. can I ask you for something?”
“Sure, babe”, Don gently said. Caressing his cheek. “Whatever you want.”
Ryan's eyes gazed innocently up at him. “Kiss me..?”
Don smiled. “I'd love to comply with that request.”
A/N: Strength comes from within and deep in our core we all know how to summon it. Strength doesn't always have its source in light, but is often found in the darkness we survived.
Title: Driven into a corner I'll fight
Pairing: Ryan/Don
Rating: Rated NC-17 - just to be on the safe side
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI Miami or CSI New York.
Warning: Kinda AU as the prequels, violence, minimal amount of blood
Summary: One-shot
Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength. (August Wilson)
A/N: This fic is not beta-ed so if you find any errors, please let me know.
Driven into a corner I'll fight
Clouds and the sun.
It was the fight of two and neither wanted to lose.
Just the way it was right now.
In a fight between the sun and the clouds, sometimes the clouds would succeed in obscuring the sun and sometimes the sun would manage to break through again.
In a chase of two men, it was the same. Sometimes the hunted would extend his lead and sometimes the hunter would gain on his prey.
It was a law; a game Ryan cursed with all he had.
Panting, Ryan ran like a mad-man, jumping over bins and bottles and any obstacles that happened to obscure his path as he passed through the alley in a rush of adrenaline and determination.
His heartbeat had accelerated so much he could already feel it thumping in his head, a sensation he'd rather miss out on, if asked.
His lung was almost at its limit as well and every breath he took left a burning sting in his chest. He felt breathless and yet he couldn't stop.
Ryan hated the mess he'd gotten himself into, though he didn't know how exactly it had happened he had stumbled into this.
He'd been at a crime-scene, Don was there too. Seeing his lover had reassured him, working here in New York was still a little frightening to him, new colleagues, new city, a change of weather and all.
But Don had been there and for that he'd been glad.
He'd secretly smiled at his lover when Don told him he was going to speak to the neighbours.
And then everything had happened in a rush.
Ryan had gone into the bedroom to see if he could find a few clues there, as a man bolted out of the wardrobe behind the door and hopped out of the window to vanish down the fire-escape.
To be honest, Ryan's heart had stopped for a moment when the man appeared out of nothing. The guy probably had hidden in the cupboard when Don and the patrol arrived. They'd assumed the dead guy lying in the kitchen had been killed because he'd surprised the killer when the latter sifted through his apartment.
With all the stuff lying around the floor and the opened drawers and all, this had been a good guess. But nobody would have thought the killer/thief would still be there, persistent enough to find what he wanted even after he'd killed the owner.
It probably hadn't occurred to patrol or Don that the killer was somewhere hiding, with all the drawers and cupboards already open. One closed closet wouldn't have caught his eye in this mess.
Well, fact was Ryan had acted on instinct. Fuelled by the adrenaline of being startled he'd followed the suspect out onto the fire-escape, just barely remembering to call a warning to patrol.
He didn't know if they'd heard him or registered his call in any way but he didn't have enough time to make sure. The guy was up and running down the street and if he wanted to catch him, Ryan had to take on pursuit without hesitation.
That's how he came to pursue a suspect through alleys and narrow streets, surprised at the speed of his prey.
Ryan threw a short glance back before he fastened his eyes on the suspect once again. Damn, still no reinforcements. He was probably on his own in this.
He willed his legs to move faster, suddenly glad he hadn't stopped training when he'd switched from patrol to CSI. Otherwise he presumably might not have been capable to keep up at all.
But even with his practice, the good shape he'd obtained during patrol, the suspect was far too fast to be your every-day killer. And while he ran, Ryan used the time to study his suspects movements accurately.
He'd been on the running team himself, back then when he'd been still in college. He recognised the skilled way the man in front of him moved. The way he brought up his knees while running, the way his heels didn't seem to touch the ground at all. It simply screamed of 'athlete' and a professional no less.
Damn.
Trying to ignore the shortness of breath that had set in some time during the chase, Ryan pushed himself once more. This couldn't be the end. He must not lose this suspect. He must not. What would Mac say if he didn't come up victorious after taking on such a mad pursuit? What would Don say if he lost the suspect after running off without saying so much a word? Ah, well.. he would be in trouble anyway.
But catching his prey would probably assuage the scolding he was going to receive.
Ahead he could discern the alley was coming to an end, instead leading into a harbour-estate at Hudson River.
Good. Maybe he would be able to overpower the man there.
He just dearly hoped the guy wouldn't jump into the Hudson or this was going to march upon a contest of 'iron-man'. And well, he sure wouldn't survive that.
Bursting into the more or less open harbour, he looked about wildly. Where had he gone? He couldn't see him. Maybe he had hidden behind the stacks of crates up ahead?
Drawing his gun, Ryan carefully slid in-between the stacks, groaning inwardly as he realised that there were far more crates than he'd first believed. Piles upon piles towered over him at each side, creating another kind of alley. Great, he couldn't see a thing. Had he lost him?
Damn, this would actually mean he'd exhausted himself all for nothing. Mac wouldn't like the result. His first chase in the city of New York and he'd blown it.
Gritting his teeth, Ryan inched along the wooden walls carefully. He didn't want that guy to surprise him like last time. He tried to calm his breathing that went like a wheezing, over-worked machine. Panting like this, the suspect would be able to hear him miles away.
Quickly, absently, he flicked his tongue out to wet his dry lips and he closed his mouth. Breathing through the nose was not as effective but sure as hell a lot more silent.
His cautiousness didn't help a thing, in the end.
He'd succumbed to a failure he hadn't made ever since he'd passed the Police Training Academy. He'd looked to the right, to the left and back again, but really, he should have looked up instead. All good things come from above, a sarcastic saying went. And sometimes.. that saying bit you in the ass in the worst moments possible.
He'd been about to turn another corner when he was kicked in the back. The kick threw him completely off balance and he tumbled down to the ground, his weapon sliding along the wet concrete, out of his reach.
Damn. Not his day. Definitely not his day.
As quick as he could he turned, only to receive a kick to his face which almost blew his lights out right then and there.
Yeah, sure. His suspect was an athlete, he should have known the guy would climb the crates instead of hiding in the passages between the piles.
Belatedly shaking his head to shake off the dizziness, Ryan didn't have enough time to roll away when his attacker jumped on him, obviously fed up with the idea of running.
Instinctively Ryan kicked out, hitting the man in the side and buying himself some more time to get his wits together.
Unfortunately, the guy was a much better athlete than he'd thought 'cause before Ryan had even succeeded in crawling half of he way over to his gun, the man was up and fighting again.
They had a short tumble of dominance which left Ryan breathless before he found himself with his back on the ground again, head bouncing painfully of the concrete and making him wince.
The man above him quickly seized the opportunity to nail his limbs to the floor with his weight and his hands went to Ryan's neck, choking him. “Fucking CSI”, he hissed. “You should have given up pursuit while you still could.”
'Hell', Ryan cursed as he fought for breath. Why did they all go for the neck?!
He experienced a short moment of panic when the fingers tightened precariously around his throat and he stared up at the red face of his attacker.
For a second the fury-filled expression flickered in front of his eyes like a broken TV and he saw the familiar, frightening face of his ex-lover.
His heart stuttered.
Then he gritted his teeth.
That man wasn't his ex-lover. This man was a suspect and this was work. He was on a job and he couldn't let his fear rule over every part of his life. And he sure as hell wouldn't allow another man to destroy everything he'd worked for.
Feeling suddenly angry, determination flooded every fibre of his body and he struggled, trying to buck and kick the man's legs out under him. He didn't quite succeed but the motion at least put his attacker out of balance (he wasn't his ex-lover, after all) and Ryan used the opportunity to break one of his hands free and punch the man in the face.
The suspect staggered, the angry expression replaced by one of pure surprise. It was only for a moment though, but it gave him enough time to pry one of the hands away from his neck.
~Don't struggle, my love. Or I'll have to hit harder.~
Shit.
The man pulled his fist back, returning the punch Ryan had so carefully placed on his face and Ryan felt pain flare up in his left cheek-bone.
He didn't blink though, for once thankful he'd received so many beatings that this punch seemed more like the kiss of a butterfly and was oh-so predictable as well. So instead of being dazed, Ryan immediately raised his left arm, hooked it around the man's head from the right and pushed. Hard.
It was a tactic he'd learned at the Academy and so far it had worked on many attacker, so on this one it did, too.
The man hadn't in the least expected such retaliation after a punch and he loosened his hold on Ryan's neck once more as he lost balance, which gave Ryan the perfect opportunity to roll them around.
In the blink of an eye he was on top of his attacker, gripping one of the man's arms and twisting it as his knee buried in the suspect's back, panting.
Yes.
Yes.
He had over-powered the guy.
It caused such a surge of pride in Ryan that he lingered for a moment and enjoyed the rush of adrenaline in his veins. If he had known how to fight like this while his ex-lover had still been alive, things might have gone different. As it was though, he had had to live through this experience and come out a lot smarter, and a lot more hardened to physical pain.
Just as he was about to apply the handcuffs Don and two patrol officer shot out of an alleyway of crates, all three of them breathing hard.
When Don noticed Ryan was in control of the situation, his stance immediately lost some of the tension. “You okay?” Don asked as he headed for his lover.
Ryan nodded, pulling the cursing man up from the concrete. “Yeah, bastard thought he could outrun me.”
Don studied Ryan's face with a worried frown and as soon as Ryan had handed over the suspect to the patrol officer, he gently grasped his lover's arm and led him a few steps away. “He obviously tried a lot more than that”, Don stated worriedly and Ryan quickly redirected his gaze from the patrol officer who brought the suspect away and back to his beloved.
For the first time Ryan took notice of the feel of blood trickling down from his cheek-bone, the vague thought that the suspect had worn a ring passing through his mind. Before he could help it, he compared the experience to a memory of his ex-lover, discovering that he'd lived through worse punches.
As quickly as the thought had come, Ryan pushed it away into a dark corner of his mind where it belonged and he wiped away the blood with the back of his hand. He bent down to pick up his gun, holstering it wordlessly before he turned back to Don.
“Are you really okay, baby?” Don asked in a lowered voice, worried frown marring his face as he studied Ryan's still panting form.
“Yeah”, Ryan said with the automatic smile he used to wear whenever he was feeling a little out of it. “Yeah.., just a bit out of breath.”
Don stepped closer, allowing both of them a moment of shared intimacy as he gently caressed his lover's hurt cheek with a thumb. “You don't look okay. Do you... is there anything you need?”
Ryan realised he must appear as wired as he felt, the reality of it all still not having sunk in and quickly he moved into Don's arms, enjoying the feel as they tightened around him.
Immediately he felt a little less tense, a little less taken back in time. “It's okay. I'm fine. It was just... a brawl.”
“He tried to kill you, Ryan. I wouldn't call this a brawl.”
A little surprised Don had noticed the marks on his neck right away, Ryan smiled softly. Trust in Don to pick up on everything. “I'm fine, Donnie. He just choked me. It wasn't that much of a deal.”
Don shook his head. “Just because you've lived through worse doesn't make it okay, babe. Nobody should hurt you.”
Ryan buried his face in Don's neck, inhaling the scent of the man he loved more than his life, wishing he would just let it go. “I know. I just-”
Don gently pushed him back, so he could look into Ryan's eyes when he lifted his chin. “He hurt you, Ryan. There's no 'just's or any 'but's. This might seem as a matter of course to you but for me it is not.”
Ryan felt his eyes water at Don's serious gaze and he blinked rapidly. No use in crying now, right? He'd thought he'd done the right thing but.. maybe he hadn't done anything right after all? Was he damaged goods? Was he defiled because he didn't pay any further attention to the violence he experienced? Was it.. was it wrong to compare every punch to the ones his ex-lover had graced him with, simply to renew his own will to fight back?
Don instantly softened when he saw the tears that had gathered in Ryan's face and he pulled him back into a tight embrace, burying his nose in Ryan's hair. “Don't Ryan. Don't do that.”
“Do what..?” Ryan asked, voice breaking.
“Don't try to blame yourself for something that isn't your fault. I know what you're thinking but it's not true.” Don gently started to rub soothing circles over Ryan's back, trying to stop his lover's tears as he nuzzled his ear lovingly.
“But you made it sound as if what I did was wrong..!” Ryan chipped in. “I stopped a suspect, I.. I had a brawl with him.. I caught him!”
“Yes”, Don said. “Yes and I'm very proud you managed to bring him down, no matter how hard he hit you. I just..I just wish you would take your own injuries a little more serious. That's all. Do you know what I mean?”
Ryan sighed and weakly nodded in his embrace. His hands twisted tighter in Don's shirt as he snuggled closer.
Don caressed the back of his lover's head affectionately, squeezing him tight. “Good. Let me know when you're hurting. Even if it's just a headache. I love you babe, I don't want you to ignore your pain. You don't need to suffer and most of all you don't need to do it alone. Just.. let me know if there's anything I can do.”
Ryan was silent for a while and Don wallowed in his lover's presence, loving the feel of Ryan's body and just being relieved that his lover was all right. After a moment his lover pulled back. “Then.. can I ask you for something?”
“Sure, babe”, Don gently said. Caressing his cheek. “Whatever you want.”
Ryan's eyes gazed innocently up at him. “Kiss me..?”
Don smiled. “I'd love to comply with that request.”
A/N: Strength comes from within and deep in our core we all know how to summon it. Strength doesn't always have its source in light, but is often found in the darkness we survived.