Author: Lilly

Title: Time Heals All Wounds

Pairing: Calleigh/Ryan friendship (it's sorta-kinda EC... kinda)

Summary: The last six months had been the worst of his life, and the last thing he needed was a good thrashing. But even when Ryan's torture leaves him a physical and emotional wreck, he is able to find one good element of his suffering.

A/N: Written after 'Wolfe in Sheep's Clothing', takes place after his encounter with Eric and Calleigh.

Time Heals All Wounds

It wasn't hard for Ryan Wolfe to cover it up.

The easiest part was the bruises, the cuts, the healing-over scars. His lip swelled up but other than that, everything could be concealed under a bright purple dress shirt, like the ones he wore to work every day. Even the ligature marks on his neck and wrists were easily hidden by buttoning his collar tight and keeping his cuffs low, and the slight limp and stiffness to his walk was only noticed by the observant few who cared to look his way as he struggled through the toughest day on the job since the day he was fired- but it was only as hard as it was because he was worried for Billy's sake, constantly making sure he broke all the rules to keep the young boy safe. Still, he managed.

Physically, he had no problems. And being as emotionally stable, as quiet and controlled as he was, he didn't feel the urge to talk about his ordeal once. Horatio found out eventually, but that was business talk, and wouldn't reach anyone else' ears, Ryan knew. Calleigh and Eric noticed his slightly quieter demeanor, the way he snuck around to cover up the evidence, and the swell in his lip- it gave him chills to think that Calleigh was paying attention to his lips- but he brushed them off. Maybe he wanted to talk, but he never felt like he had to. He got through work just fine, and at the end of it, when Billy was safe at home with his dad, the case was closed, and all was said and done, he should have just gone home and been able to forget about the entire thing, forget that any of it ever happened.

He probably could have, too, if he hadn't felt the gash on his arm open up and rushed to the lockers to cover it with a new bandage as to not ruin his shirt. He had just clocked out, but why put blood stains in another shirt, when that blue one at home was already ruined. He yanked off his tie, loosened his collar and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling the old gauze patch off the swollen and bruised cut and cleaning it with paper towels. He winced slightly, as his entire body was stiff and any movement was painful. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he realized that underneath his cover, he was a wreck, like something out of a horror movie. His chest, arms and back were littered with cuts and bruises, and the ring-like marks on his neck and wrists were beginning to turn a deep red as the initial swelling went down. And no matter how hard he tried to hide it, he was breaking down after the horrible day he'd just endured.

"Eric, you in here?"

He turned around, surprised, as Calleigh entered the locker room, purse in hand with her jacket on, as if ready for a date. She was beautiful, and Ryan stared for just a second, as he hair, still perfect, even after a day of work, in the field and in the lab, trailed behind her, bouncing slightly. Almost in a daze, it took him a second to realize that he was standing in the middle of the locker room, bloody and shirtless, with the evidence from the day before all over his body and a super-sharp CSI walking in. She stopped when she noticed the lack of clothing, and looked away, trying to be polite but obviously still trying to see.

"Sorry Ryan… uh…"

"I don't know where Delko is," he said sharply. He didn't mean to be brash with her, but he was still fuming from their encounter, when he had revealed the evidence he had been hiding to her and Eric and they had gone off on him. He understood procedure, but as his friends, he had wished they had understood that there were circumstances to what he had done. Not that he would have explained it to them, anyway. He couldn't help but resent their relationship, considering that he had a crush on Calleigh and had ever since he had started working at the lab. Why would he open up to Eric? And ever since she started sleeping with him, Calleigh's nights out with Ryan, her old best friend, had gotten few and far in between. He used to talk to her every night on the phone, or meet her for beers, to go to a club with her, but she was too busy now, and had been for six months, as she'd grown closer to Delko. They had been inseperable. Delko had taken his best friend from him, and he was angry at him for that, but also angry that Calleigh didn't care about this new distance between them as much as he did. Their friendship had obviously meant nothing to her.

He turned away, hoping to conceal his injuries from her, but she was watching him. The last thing he wanted was pity from her right now, when it was so easy to just hate her, but she was a CSI, and knew him better than anyone else in the world. She had to notice the deep purple blotches on his back, the blood running down his bruised arm, and cuts on his chest, the ring running around his neck, and the bloody towels in the trash can next to him. She came closer, dropping her purse and gently pulling him around to face her.

"Cal, stay out of it," he said again, trying to pull away from her, but his weakness and her strength didn't pair well. She held him firmly in place and ran her soft hands down his chest, her eyes full of worry. "Ryan, babe…"

He allowed his eyes to meet hers, and for a second, saw his best friend again. For a moment, Eric Delko didn't even exist, and the two of them were alone in the locker room and alone in the world, free to be together again, so close that she could tell him her girly stories and cry in his arms and he could share his inner-most secrets and open up to her once more, like suddenly the rift between them had dissolved and they were a pair once again. "Did you… have plans?" he asked, swallowing the lump in his throat, tears near. "Not anymore," she answered, running her fingers across his bruised stomach and resting her hand on his hip.

She took a t-shirt of Eric's out of her locker and pulled it over his head, as he stood motionless in the same spot, not sure whether he should allow this to happen. After so many months of having no one to talk to, of feeling the absence of Calleigh eat away at him, it felt needy to cry on her shoulder once again. He didn't want to be weak here, and he still could run away, could leave like she did and shut her out like she had done to him. But something kept him standing there, some other-worldly force lifted his stiff and sore arms above his lead to allow her to put it the shirt on him, ironically one that symbolized her love with Eric, as he had obviously given it to her.

The car ride was silent, as Ryan tried to sit in the Hummer in a way that wouldn't push too hard on any of his sore spots. He found it impossible, and Calleigh noticed. He was finally still to stop her worried glances. He didn't want her pity. He couldn't help but look at her as she texted Eric, telling him she would miss their dinner date, his responses harsh and questioning.

He felt a bitter sense of nostalgia as they pulled up to her condo, two newspapers piled outside her house, reminding him that she'd been at Eric's for the last few nights. He used to call this his second home, he spent so many nights here, on her couch, holding her as she would cry into his shoulder about Jake, or her father, or her trauma following her kidnapping at work, or drama with one of her friends- not that Calleigh cried often or to many people. She was tough as nails, and every time she did open up, on those rare occasions, he knew that he was the only one who would see it, that it was a truly vulnerable moment for her and that she trusted him to be the one to sit with her through it. It was magical when she cried, because it was as if by emptying it out with him, she was able to put those ordeals behind her. And he was here for other things, too. Sometimes she just needed him to sit next to her, and they'd watch TV, not really paying attention, just glad to be next to one another. He'd put his arms around her, and they'd approach that blurry line between 'best friends' and 'couple', always close to it but never quite able to cross it. They'd come back from a late night of beers, dinner, a movie, clubbing, or dancing, and he'd fall asleep on her couch, or even next to her in the bed, their feet entangling every so often but their bodies never close enough for him. She liked to cook for him, too, and he would come over, standing behind her with his hands on her shoulders, massaging the stress away as she prepared one of her many delicious southern delicacies for the two of them. He would bring wine, and they would watch movies on her couch with ice cream, sharing one tub with one spoon, afterwards, falling asleep like that. He used to have a change of clothes in her closet, but she had returned it to him after she started dating Eric, as if to say 'you're not welcome any more.'

And that was how he felt, now. Not welcome. Even as she opened the door for him, forgetting that he had a key, which he kept in his wallet just in case, and pulled him in the door. She went to work immediately, throwing her stuff over the arm of the couch and leading him to the bathroom, where she sat him on the tub and pulled his shirt off. He couldn't help but notice how sexual it all seemed, as she loosened and pulled his belt off, allowing him to relax a little, and took in his battered body with a motherly tenderness on her face. She cleaned each of his cuts with alcohol, causing him to wince, piling the bloody gauze up in the trash can. Calleigh was no doctor, but she knew how to tend to this sort of thing, and worked like an expert, closing the worst of the gashes with a needle and thread from her extensive first-aid kit and bandaging each with fresh bandages. She even wrapped them around his wrists, which were raw and painful to the touch, pain on her face. She was quiet until the end, when she got to his face. The damage was beginning to become apparent, the bruises taking their color on. It had taken twenty-four hours, but the state his face was in was only now visible. His eyes were darkening, and his nose and jaw were turning purple. By now her expression had weakened, her strong front broken down, and tears began to run down her face, "Are you going to tell me what the hell happened to you, or am I going to have to assume you were mauled a pack of wolves?"

Ryan hesitated. The person who before he would have opened up to without issues was now so hard to even look at. Could he do this? Could he trust that Calleigh wouldn't leave again, that he'd have the strength to do this over again, that he'd be able to deal with it if she did leave again? It was a leap of faith he wasn't sure he was ready to take. But her face was so warm and welcoming, and he missed her so much it was unbearable, and maybe he could pretend for a second that he sure, 100% sure, that this would be a turning point, that by doing this he would get her back. Hope was better than walking away and sealing the deal, even if the pain of her absence could rip him open again. He had to take the chance.

"Um, can we do this somewhere… not in a bathroom?"

It was worth it, he decided.

This had never happened before- now it was her holding him, gently rubbing the stress from his shoulders, running her fingers down his naked chest, pulling him into her as they lay splayed out on her couch, his eyes red from crying and her shirt wet with his tears- but he was okay with it. He was never this vulnerable, hadn't been like this even with her, but it was okay now, because as long as she was holding him tight, he didn't need those protective barriers he had built around him. It was perfect, like nothing had changed, and when he woke up, sore but still, better than the day before, he knew he had made the right decision by coming home with her, by telling her everything, by opening up to her again and letting the last six months spill out of him, all the worked up tension and stress and sadness.

They had spoken about his ordeal- she had been so tender and loving, so sympathetic and caring, and he'd broken down in her arms, eventually crying about more than the physical state he was in. She'd know; she knew him better than anyone. And they had gotten down to the real issue, what had really been eating away at him for six months. And that was when he really let go, and she let go with him, and they cried like idiots as they held each other close, the contact warm and welcoming and forgiving and loving.

"I love you," she had said, "I love you and I always have, but Ryan, babe, you never said anything. You waited, and Eric didn't."

"I was scared," he had told her, sniffling back tears, "I was scared, and I thought maybe it would pass, and I didn't want to ruin what we had. I loved your friendship too much to risk it for what I really wanted."

She had been silent for a long time, her face close enough for him to feel her breath, cool on his tear-streaked cheeks. "I can't do that to Eric. As much as I love you, he has made so much room for me in his broken heart, and I can't just throw away what we have."

"I'll wait for you," he said. "Maybe we can start where we left off?"

"I'm so sorry for what I've done to you," Calleigh had choked out. "I was too afraid of you... after Eric and I began seeing each other. Too afraid that being around you again would push me to do something I'd regret, something that would break his heart."

"It's okay. I mean... it will be okay, I think."

"I love you, Ryan. I love you and I've missed you so much, I don't think you even know."

"I know, me too, Cal."

He was ready to take that next step, to test the waters, to get back, slowly, to where they had left off. He didn't care how she did it, but she would allow herself time in between romps with Delko to spend time with her best friend. Even if she couldn't admit it, she had been hurting too, those six months had taken their tole on her, too. She'd had her fair share of nights where she'd fallen asleep crying, the phone in her hand with his name on the screen and never quite able to press 'send.' But it would be okay. This would change everything, both of them knew it.

She could sleep with Eric all she wanted, but maybe this night could give him his best friend back. Time would heal the wounds on his body, and time with her would heal the wound her absence had put in his heart.