Author: Lilly

Title: I Don't Need Eyes to See Where This is Going

Pairing: Ryan/Calleigh

Summery: When Ryan loses his sight and his opportunity as a CSI, he realizes that there's more to life than meets the eye.

A/N: This is an idea that just came to me: what if Ryan had lost his sight when he was shot in the eye? Hopefully it would have gone something like this. Please R/R!

I Don't Need Eyes to See Where This is Going

I remember the last day I could see.

I remember every single detail of that day up until I got to the bar. I've gone over it thousands of times in my head, and I think I've gotten it just right. It's taken me a while, but I've had a lot of time when I've locked down, and shut my senses out. I go inside, and think. I could do this for hours, but then people might think I'd fallen asleep sitting up. My last day was a good one. When it's your last day with sight, things seem to pop out to you, and you remember them better. I remember everything.

It was a Friday. One of Miami's cooler days, when the sun didn't roast the top of your head and the breeze felt good on your skin. It had been a week since I'd been shot in the eye with a nail gun, and my vision in my left eye was fuzzy. I could still see what a beautiful day it was. I went to the lab to visit, because I wasn't allowed back for another few days, until my eye was fully healed. I was wearing a white polo shirt and loose jeans. I took a cab, because I wasn't allowed to drive either. The cab driver smelled of tobacco, and didn't say much to me. He had on a grimy green shirt and kept picking at his teeth. The seats in the back had leather peeling up from the upholstery. His license said 'Marty M. Brown.' He was thirty years old, had black hair, was balding, and was 5'10". When he dropped me off at the lab, I remember there was water pooled under each step from the sprinklers in the morning. The doors had a greasy handprint on the left-hand door.

The first person I saw walking into the lab was Calleigh. She wore tight fitting black pinstripe pants, a blouse, and a jacket. Her hair was pulled back in a light purple hair band. She wore a band on her right hand, ring finger. She looked beautiful, and when she saw me, her face lit up. I smiled back at her. She stood at the MDPD lobby desk, speaking with the girl at the counter. I still don't know what she was doing there, considering she worked upstairs, but I appreciate the fact that she was there and able to walk me up to see the team.

We embraced, and she took me upstairs by way of the elevator. It took forever for the doors to open, and when they did, a patrol office with blonde hair, a think figure, and bright eyes stepped out. He greeted us as we entered the elevator. I remember how the mirrors in the elevator seemed to quadruple our reflections. I took her hand, and she smiled. I was excited, but at the same time, I was nervous. I had been on bed rest for a week, and was anxious to see my colleagues and friends again.

The sun glistened off the glass walls as we stepped out of the elevator, and created a rainbow effect. It was beautiful. Calleigh signed in, stopping to collect any mail from Paula, who I greeted- she wore her MDPD uniform and her hair was also pulled back high with a green hair band- and took me straight to Horatio's office. A service worker passed us as we walked down the hall. She was dressed in all black and had dark hair. Her shoes clacked loudly on the sleek tile floors- heels, I assume. Why women wear heels in a crime lab gets me; always has, always will.

Horatio's office was at the back of the crime lab, and on the way, I passed everyone worth mentioning. All of my friends, and many lab techs that knew about what had happened to me, and waved. I could go on forever describing each of them, what they wore, what their facial expression was, and what they had been doing when I walked by. I remember every detail about everyone. The way Valera's hair was untidy, like she'd been up all night on a case. The way Alexx's shirt collar was crooked, the way she smiled at me and said 'baby'. How Eric had shaved that morning, and had a small cut on the left side of his chin, the way he put his hand in his pocket and smiled his crooked smile at me.

He had on a white dress shirt and dark jeans. His belt buckle was silver with text etched into it, his badge on his belt, slightly lopsided, one hand in his pocket, the other gesturing to Calleigh as she stopped briefly to speak with him about a case, and I didn't listen to their conversation. I didn't realize it then, but I now know that in that few minutes, I took in, and memorized, the crime lab, and this few minutes is the reason I can get around so well now, because I've gone over it so many times in my head. The layout popped out to me. Every turn, how the walls curved, where they did, where there was a door, and which direction that door would open in. There were stairs further down the hall, twenty-two in sight, and I would later find out, three out of sight.

We entered Horatio's office quietly, treading up the stairs. Calleigh stumbled on one and I caught her fall. She thanked me; her heel was chipped at the back, and I joked about how heels and police officers don't go together. She laughed, and her face scrunched up in the way she does when she's happy. It's something I love about her, and one of the things I miss most about being able to see her.

Horatio was in black, his sunglasses on his desk to his right. His hair hung below his eyes as he was intently studying a certain file, filling out paperwork with a black pen. There were a few open files on his desk, one was so stuffed that some of the edges of the papers inside stuck out. I remember that the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. His collar needed to be straightened, and this affected my OCD, and was bugging me. When we entered the office, he looked up and his expression went from stressed out to as close to a smile as Horatio can get. He stood up and shook my hand.

"Mr. Wolfe, you should still be on bed rest," he said, shifting positions. I nodded and looked down.

"I couldn't stay away for much longer. Besides, I'm just here to collect mail and let you know I'll be back Monday for half the day. My doctor has already approved it."

Horatio nodded. "Okay, alright. It's good to have you back." He patted me on the back. "If you'd like to join us tonight, we're thinking of stopping at the bar on Ocean for drinks after work. Calleigh can pick you up," he said. "It'll be good to see everyone again."

I smiled, and could see Calleigh's face brighten next to me. "Thank you, Horatio. I'll be there if Calleigh's okay with picking me up." I turned to Calleigh. "I could always get a cab-"

She shook her head. "I'd be delighted to pick you up, Ryan. Be ready by eight?" Her eyebrows arched upwards, her hands went into her pockets, and I nodded. She turned to Horatio, and her tone changed from lighthearted to serious.

"About the Rafael Domingo case…"

He nodded. "Mr. Wolfe, thank you for stopping by. If you need a ride home, Eric's heading out to a case by your place…"

I shook my head. "I'm okay, I'll just get a cab. Thank you." Calleigh smiled at me as I walked out. I glanced back as I walked down the hallway and saw her in a serious talk with Horatio about their case. In that second, I realized how much I missed work. I lived to solve crimes and process evidence and talk for hours about scenarios. Long hours in the layout room, with Calleigh and Eric, joking for what felt like forever in DNA waiting for AFIS, finding evidence the other had missed, Calleigh's delicious break room coffee, and Friday night team get-togethers at the bars.

I lived for it. I didn't know what I'd do without it.

I got home and slept the day away. My sheets were white that day. The bed was warm and inviting. I remember trying to watch TV, and getting a headache. I had seen glimpses of old '90s shows. I took an Advil, noticing how the side of the bottle had an ink stain on it, and I couldn't figure out how it got there. I remember the fly in the bathroom that had taken me forever to kill. The sun streamed in my window in the bedroom and cast a shadow across the room. The plant I had by the window needed watering, the edges curling back. There was a handprint on the window, right near the door. The clock read 11:42. I slept for hours, only waking when Calleigh showed up to pick me up.

I remember we didn't talk much on the way to the bar. I kept rubbing my hands on my jeans, and my headache was bothering me. It was after we arrived that everything went fuzzy.

We drank beer in a booth in the back, but I didn't have very much. The doctors later asked me how much and when I asked the team they assured me it was only a sip. I remember it was pretty dark and loud. Frank, Horatio, Eric, Natalia, and Calleigh were there. Alexx was at home with her kids, I remember Horatio telling me. My headache pursued. I kept my head down and my mouth shut. At one point I excused myself to the bathroom, where I emptied my stomach contents, and by the time Horatio came and opened the door I was dry heaving.

"Ryan, come on out son."

I flushed the toilet and opened the door. Horatio looked worried, his expression slightly blurred. My head was pounding, and my eye was hurting again. I was dizzy. He reached out to steady me.

"Let me drive you to the hospital," he said. I shook my head.

"Thanks, H, but um, I'll be fine. Just a headache." I brushed past him and opened the door. I was determined to show Horatio that I was okay and could come back to the lab by next Monday. I had to get back in the lab before I went crazy. I would finish off the night.

I slid back into the booth, and was met by the team's worried eyes. Horatio came back out after me and resumed conversation, keeping an eye on me. I felt guilty and dirty, and tried to join in on what the team was discussing. We had gotten on the subject of Frank's wife and how she was. Then we started talking about Christmas, which was around the corner, and I lost track of what was going on completely. I put my head down. Blood rushed in my ears, my head was throbbing, and the spot right behind my eyes felt like it was on fire.

"Ryan? Ryan, please talk to me."

Calleigh.

I put my head up. By now, everything was blurry, and a small spot of black was blocking out the center of my vision. I was breathing heavily, sweating, and it was freezing.

"We're worried about you. Maybe you should go home, at least."

I couldn't tell what the look on her face was like, but her hand touched my cheek. I tried to smile, but the pain was too much. I couldn't see anything or make any details out besides her delicate hand on my cold and sweaty face. My last look was of the team, smiling and laughing together, Horatio, his head turned towards me, and Calleigh's beautiful face. Her hand was soft and soothing. I calmed down with her hand on me. I managed to choke out my last words that I would be able to see the reaction of.

"You make me feel better when you do that, Cal."

Then I fell sideward on her shoulder, and she supported me. I was dead weight. I heard screaming, I heard the clanking of glass-on-glass, I heard the noisy sounds of the bar in the background, and I heard Calleigh's voice, standing apart from all the others.

"Ryan? Ryan! Oh my God, Horatio, call an ambulance…"

And the next time I woke up, everything was black.

The doctors tried to explain it to me, but I was in too much shock. I heard Calleigh and Horatio speaking with them on several occasions, and I assumed they would hear what needed to be heard. I wasn't listening, though. Their words traveled in one ear and out the other as I absorbed the fact that I wouldn't be able to see anything ever again. Worse, I couldn't be a police officer, or a CSI, again.

Something had been affected in my brain when the nail entered my eye, and the problem had taken a week to fully develop. I was left completely blind, confused, and lost. To me, it didn't matter how it happened. I honestly didn't care. But it did happen, and it took away my job, my life.

I only stayed in the hospital for a day or two for observation, and was sent home on Sunday morning. I remember the long hours in my hospital bed. I considered suicide, part of the time. Everything was dark; I was trapped in my own body with almost no connection to everything around me. I had thought about how death was better than what I was going through.

Calleigh picked me up. She guided me to the car and helped me into it. She drove me to a drug store to buy me a cane, so I could get around, and my medication, which would hopefully reverse the effects. She kept saying how sorry she was, and how this medication would probably work within a day or two and everything would be fine. I knew the whole time that it wouldn't be. I was blind and that was the end of it.

I stayed in the car when we reached the drug store. I didn't want to be walking around, probably creeping people out with my dead, blind eyes, and crashing into things. I touched my eyes. They felt normal. I opened and closed them. Nothing. Pitch black. It never changed, not even by a shade.

Calleigh came back with dark glasses for me, and put them on my face. "So you feel more comfortable," she said. I knew it was so no one had to see my eyes, staring into space. I felt better with them on, though, like at least people didn't have to see what was wrong with me.

I ran my hands up the length of the wooden cane. I was new at this, because I had no idea what it would look like. Calleigh described it to me. "It's beautiful, Ryan, it's dark cherry wood. Here, grip it like this-" she placed my shaking hands on the cane, "and feel your way around."

We drove home, back to my condo. I didn't ask her how things were. I didn't thank her for picking me up. I didn't ask about cases, I didn't wonder why she had gotten off of work when I knew she worked most Sundays because Eric was at church. I didn't say anything. Halfway home I started crying, almost silently. I put my head in my hands and rubbed my worthless, sightless eyes. She rubbed my back as she drove, but didn't say anything. I needed to cry this one out. My muffled cries turned to sobs, and I pounded the dashboard. I was barely twenty-seven. I had a long life ahead of me. And never again would I be able to live out my dream and passion, never again would I work in the lab or carry my gun into a crime scene, or feel the rush off a high-speed chase. I would sit at home and rot. Eventually the team would stop visiting me. They'd re-hire. I'd be forgotten, and die alone.

When we stopped, I knew we were at my house. I found my seat-belt buckle, undid it, and opened the door. Using my cane, I found where the curb was, and stepped out. I started to walk, hearing the slamming of Calleigh's door. "Ryan, wait-"

I walked straight into a pole, and staggered backwards. Tears threatened to fall again. I couldn't do anything. I threw my cane down and screamed. My glasses fell off, and I heard them clatter on the ground. I kicked back at where I thought the car was and started crying again. I didn't know who was around and who could see me, but I didn't care anyway.

"God, this sucks!" I said. I kicked at nothing again, tears streaming down my cheeks. I rubbed my eyes again, wishing I could wipe away the black sheet that covered my vision.

"Calleigh, I can't do this," I said, as she came up behind me and put her hand on mine. She led me up to my condo, where she opened the door and sat me down on the couch. She fixed some drinks in the kitchen; I could tell from the sound of glass clanking and water being poured. She came back and sat down next to me, taking my hand and placing the glass in it.

"Yes you can, Ryan."

I was frustrated. "Oh yeah, how? I'm blind, Cal! I'll never be able to work at the crime lab again, and I can't even walk up to my condo alone! How am I supposed to do anything?" I felt around for the table I knew was next to the couch, and put my glass down. Her voice was soft, like an angel's.

"You're not alone, Ryan."

I turned to face her, or where I thought she must be.

"I'm here for you."

I felt around for her hand, and took it. She gave it a squeeze, and the next thing I knew, her lips were on mine, and she was kissing me. I cupped her cheek and kissed her back, wishing I could see her beautiful face this close up, and the warm tears I felt brush on my cheek. She was crying.

I tap my fingers on Paula's desk. I know she's not here because I can't hear any sounds coming from behind the desk. Hurried footsteps come into my range, and she sits back down behind the desk.

"Sorry, Ryan. I had to look up a case for Horatio. You here for Calleigh?"

I nod, and tap my cane once on the ground. "I'd also like to speak with Horatio about something, but if he's in the middle of something, I can come another time," I say. She begins typing fast on the computer.

"I can have him call you," she says. The typing slows down. "But Calleigh's shift should end in a few minutes, and you can wait for her if you'd like."

I nod again. "Thanks, Paula. Actually, where is she now?" I straighten my glasses. My OCD goes beyond sight, for I can feel how crooked they are.

"She should be in Layout, but I'm not sure. You know where it is?" Paula begins typing again, because she knows the answer to that question and doesn't need to wait around for me.

"Of course, thanks Paula. Have a good weekend," I say, and turn around. I stick my cane out in front of me. Layout room, first door on the left, twenty paces forward…

It's been a year since I went blind, and what a year it's been. A lot has happened, a lot of it bad. But there's been some good that came out of all of this. For the first few months I had Calleigh help me with everything, and Horatio eventually had her work part time and help me part time. I felt bad, like I was placing a burden on the shoulders of Calleigh, Horatio, and the entire team. But things got better. I learned Braille. I learned to listen for things. My hearing has gotten so good that now I can hear people coming towards me, I can hear their breathing, and the littlest thing will alert me. I've learned my way around the lab, my condo, and most of the places I go to regularly. I have a designated driver for when Calleigh's busy, my neighbor, Alan Shores, who's gotten to be a good friend of mine. I've opened up a small after-school program near the crime lab where every day I teach young children who have sight disabilities how to read Braille, and get around in life. I make money from program, and have made friends with the parents. I make a difference.

Calleigh and I are closer than ever. We go out to dinner almost every night, after I'm done with my program and Alan can drop me off at the crime lab. I love to go to the lab when I'm not busy and sit in an empty interrogation room and listen to everything. Sometimes Alexx and I will talk on her breaks, or when there isn't an autopsy to be done. Eric and I went bowling last weekend, though it wasn't so easy for me. Natalia took me to the firing range a few days ago on her day off and I talked to her while she practiced, because she's trying to get a license to carry a firearm. With the range's permission, I was allowed to fire the gun a few times- and Natalia's directional assistance, of course. I join the team for beer nights on Fridays. I do things on the weekends with the team, or the parents of kids I teach. The lab doesn't have a replacement for me yet, but Horatio's looking.

I've fallen in love, but she doesn't know it yet. Part of me thinks she's fallen for me too.

I love life again. I am more alive than I ever have been.

I feel around for the door handle, and pull it open. I have to be especially careful in the lab because of all the evidence; if IAB knew a clumsy blind man was walking around; Stetler would come after the lab in a second.

"Cal, you in here?" I ask. I know the table with evidence, photos, and a lot of glass should be two arms lengths in front of me, so I step to the right. I can hear her giggle slightly as she puts her arms around my waist.

"I'll be done in a second, Ryan. I'm just finishing up." I hear her walk away, and then stop. I follow the direction her footsteps went in, feeling around with my cane.

"You want to help?" she asks. I hear her shuffling papers around, and I laugh.

"In case you haven't noticed, babe, I'm blind. I don't know how I could really help much."

She takes my hand and squeezes it. "You can put papers back in their files for me." She tosses me latex gloves, and I clumsily slip them on. My heart is racing: I've missed this job so much…

"Each grouping is clipped together, and the file will be stacked over-" she places my hands on a pile of files- "here." I hear her walk around and start to take photos down from the projector, and I start to sort out the files, running my fingers over the pictures. "I remember how to do this, Cal," I say, laughing. "It hasn't been that long."

I can't see her of course, but I feel her smirk at me. I finish off the files and feel my way back to the door. She eventually joins me, and we walk back to the lobby desk, where Calleigh collects her purse and keys and leads me to her car in the staff lot down below. The whole time we're laughing, and talking about our week. I tell her about one of my blind kids, David, who is the oldest in the class at fourteen, and read his first Braille book aloud to the class. She tells me about finally closing a case that's been going on for a few weeks and had her under a lot of stress. She puts her hair down, as I find when I reach in and brush my hand against her cheek and her hair is at her shoulders. She laughs, and is carefree when she's with me. She's my Calleigh.

We drive to the restaurant, but it doesn't take long. She leads me inside and to a table. I'm new to this place and it's hard knowing that there could be an obstacle anywhere, but I trust Calleigh with my life, and she holds my arm the whole time. We know the drill: Calleigh reads the menu to me aloud, and we order. Then we resume talking.

It's not until we're done with dinner and desert that she gets serious. She takes my hands, and strokes them with her soft fingers.

"Ryan, I think it's time you got yourself a Seeing Eye dog," she says.

I chuckle. "I thought that was your job, Cal." I can tell she's giving me a funny look. I put on my best smirk.

"Seriously, Ryan. The dog could really help you out. They've helped hundreds of people, and they're great for company-"

I put my hand up. "I'll look into it, Cal." I honestly don't want to talk about dogs at the moment. "Ready?" I ask. She begins to gather her things and I stand up, taking her hand as she leads me back outside to the car. We drive home without saying much. I'm considering getting a dog now, but it's really for her.

She pulls up at my condo.

"Walk me in, will you?" I say. She opens her door, and I get out of mine. I hear her walking next to me, and I make my way up to my door, and unlock it.

"Ryan-" she begins but I put my finger to where I hear her voice coming from. I nail her right on the lips."Come in, please."

She follows me in as I set us down on the couch. I get up and get us both coffee. I feel her eyes on me as I prepare our drinks. When I bring them over and set them in front of us on the coffee table, I ask, "What are you looking at?"

"You. How much you've grown as a person in the last year. How much I…"

I smile as she trails off. "Thank you. And I will consider getting a dog, but it would be a puppy. I would want to train it myself, as part of the challenge."

She giggles. "Ryan, it's not about that. Though I think it would be great, to have you, me and a puppy-" She stops, and I can almost see the look on her face. I grin.

"Are you placing our names together like that for a reason?" I ask, fully knowing what she's thinking.

"Well, I…I always thought. You know…" She stammers. "I always thought that we'd end up together in the end, you know?" She swallows.

By now my heart is racing, but I'm not nervous. I'm excited, I'm ecstatic and anxious and probably the happiest man on Earth. I've always known it, but somehow hearing it from her makes it that much more real, that much more beautiful. It's a really beautiful thing, love is.

"I mean, gosh Ryan, I thought you knew."

I take off my glasses, even though I can't see any better without them. She's used to the glazed over look my eyes have. I'm comfortable around her with things like that.

"Of course I did, but that doesn't mean I didn't want to hear it from you."

I'm in my condo, I'm blind, and I'm sitting next to the most beautiful girl in the world. If I'd been born blind I'd still know how gorgeous she is, because Calleigh's that kind of person.

She swallows again. "Well, do you…you know, do you…me too?" I've never heard Calleigh this way before, but she seems more real than ever.

"I always have, Cal. I always will."

I can't see her, but I somehow know exactly where she is. Some people say that people who lose one of their senses gain a new one. I've gained that sense where you know what people are thinking, and Calleigh and I are thinking the exact same thing. I lean in, and somehow our lips find each other, and we kiss.

I'm blind, completely blind. I can't see anything, and yet I've never seen so much as I do when I'm with Calleigh. I don't know what I'd do without her. Maybe someday we'll get married and I'll get a puppy, and things will change. But right now, and forever, she is my guide, she is my eyes, she is the part of me that has always been missing.

"Promise me you'll never leave me?"

I've lost my sight, but I've gained this newfound love of life, to share with the love of my life. I don't need my eyes to see where this is going, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

"I promise."