Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding CSI: Miami. I also do not own the song One by One as performed by Unkle Bob—or any other person. The title of the story comes from Kryptonite by Three Doors Down, which I also do not own.
I realize that the characters are grossly out of character, I apologize if I offend anyone, but I feel, in this story, they are dealing with an out of character situation for the established show.
The warnings on this story are an M rating, mentions of rape, suicidal thoughts/actions, and eventual character death. If you are easily disturbed, please don't read this story. This is your only warning.
Additionally, if the situation calls for it, there is strong language. I think it makes it a little worse than a PG-13 movie rating, so teen? I have read far worse stories, language and content-wise, aimed at young teens. I apologize if the rating fails to encompass what it needs to. Let me know in the comments or a private message and I'll adapt the rating.
One by One
I suffer you gladly
One by one
You're all I don't need
And you couldn't see
The wood from the tree
Your eyes are unkind
So don't look at me
And all that you know
Is written in stone
Prologue:
Thursday December 16, 2010
Ryan Wolfe's drink is cloudy and he watches the swirls for a couple seconds before raising the glass and tipping the contents into his mouth. It's a mix of everything he can think of and it tastes awful, but he still orders another shot, grimacing through the burn of the alcohol. The bartender keeps giving him looks as if to say, "That's enough, sonny," but a man at the end of the bar keeps buying and Ryan keeps drinking.
The last case for the Crime Lab was horrific, with a mother-father team murdering their seven children before going on a spree, killing as many of their relatives as possible. Before Horatio shot them, they had kidnapped Ryan because he looked like a long-lost cousin. He had come so close to dying. Ryan didn't handle near death experiences very well.
Around the thirteenth or fourteenth or seventeenth drink, the room starts spinning, and Ryan can't see straight. The man has moved closer and has his arm around Ryan's shoulders. The last thing he remembers is trying to thank the man for paying for his drinks when he passes out.
oOo
Ryan curls against the pain. He would welcome it if it meant that he will be saved from this nightmare. He's been missing for three hours now, but since he was abducted after work hours, no one knows yet.
The man has made sure that Ryan can't see his face or any other identifying features, but he knows it's the same one from the bar. Once he makes sure that Ryan can't escape from the leather restraints tied around his wrists, he rapes him repeatedly. The haze from the alcohol stops the familiarity of the room, of the bed, from registering in Ryan's scared mind.
He passes out and awakens periodically throughout the night as the man cleans him up, wraps him in a recently purchased blanket, and throws him onto the streets. The alcohol has worn off enough that the recognition of the street isn't lost on him.
Ryan cries when he realizes that he was raped in his own house.
oOo
He stumbles into the hospital, babbling incoherently about calling his boss and needing a doctor. The nurses understand more of what he says than he does, and he ends up in an examination room waiting for someone to run a rape kit.
He holds onto a thin line of hope that the man left some evidence on him somewhere—even down there —that the doctor can use to nail the bastard. He knows there is little possibility since one of the times he woke up, the man was flooding down there with soapy water.
The first time a male doctor enters the room, he goes into shock, traveling back in time and space to his bedroom, tied to the four-poster bed his mother gave him when he got his first apartment. Back to the bathtub, water forced in and out of him, reminiscent of the penis he'd had shoved into him. Back to the cold street and the realization that his neighbors hadn't heard anything.
The doctor leaves, and someone new comes in. Ryan isn't aware of the actual rape kit, but he does know that when he nods his consent for the woman to examine him, he doesn't stop even as he descends back into shock.
oOo
Friday December 17, 2010
Eric Delko is the first to notice that he's not okay when he walks into work. The doctors had advised against him returning so soon, but he needs to talk to his boss, Lieutenant Horatio Caine about what has happened to him. How can he tell anyone that he's been raped—much less that it happened in his home where he was supposed to be safe?
Horatio refuses to meet with him privately, even after Ryan tries to explain the sensitive nature of the topic. Well, as best as the words "It's, uh, it's really a, um, a, uh, private matter. If you don't mind?" can.
Miraculously—Eric—the hallway empties shortly after that, and Ryan mumbles what he needs to say. Horatio looks heartbroken as he leads him to an interrogation room to talk. But, like the doctors, and like Ryan knew all along, there is no evidence to go off of. There is no way they can catch his rapist.
"Take a few days off," Horatio says kindly, the sadness still lingering in his eyes. "Recuperate. We'll see you in a week."
Ryan nods. He's still nodding when Horatio walks away from him. And then he breaks down.
oOo
Saturday December 25, 2010
He spends the day alone, curled on his couch, trying not to miss the comfort of a friendly smile. Trying not to feel the pain of the man raping him again and again. The walls close in on him and he can't breathe.
He's got to get out of here.
His phone rings and it's Eric inviting him over for Christmas dinner with his family. Ryan hesitates only long enough to pull a dress shirt and pants over his tee-shirt and jeans and tie his shoes.
Before Eric can change his mind or hang up, Ryan is on his way, crying silently as Eric continues describing how much fun it's going to be.
oOo
Friday December 31, 2010
Once again, Eric invites him to hang out with him. Somehow, he knows that Ryan needs to be near someone, but he doesn't press for information, which is a relief since Ryan doesn't know how to tell anyone—except Horatio—about what happened to him.
Instead of interrogating him about moving, Eric helped him find an apartment closer to the Crime Lab, closer to Eric, and actually threw a housewarming party for him.
New Year's Eve, Eric hands him a glass of apple juice. "Sorry it's not champagne," he apologizes. "My sister is pregnant and we didn't want her to feel left out."
"That's okay," Ryan says. It's been two weeks, but he still can't bring himself to do anything that might impair his judgment, might lead him back to his old apartment, back to the pain the man inflicted on him. Alcohol was the first thing to go. He has vowed to never let another drop pass his lips, so he's perfectly okay chanting numbers with Eric's enormous extended family and sipping sweet apple juice when the ball drops. He doesn't know why they've accepted him, and he doesn't need to. He is perfectly happy discussing politics with Papí and talking to Mamá about recipes.
He hopes it doesn't ever stop, but he can feel himself changing even as Eric's little cousin kisses him on the cheek and wishes him a Happy New Year. He can feel himself slipping into the depression he's tried so hard to fight off.
oOo
Friday March 18, 2011
Ryan has finally had enough. He can't stand to be himself for one more moment and lashes out at the nearest object. It just so happens that it's the door to the DNA lab. His fist punches through, shards sticking into his skin. Inside, Natalia Boa Vista and a newbie tech scream in fear or surprise.
He waves them away, heading towards the centrifuge which is currently unoccupied. Natalia tries to stop him, but he refuses to listen to her. One of the table legs ought to do nicely, he thinks, shoving the newbie out of the way as he upends their worktable, ripping a metal leg off. Natalia screams at him as he smashes the centrifuge again and again. When he shows no signs of stopping, she takes Newbie and leaves.
The rest of the lab erupts into shouts and cries as he makes his way across the hall to the trace lab where Travers is bent over a microscope. Ryan smashes the one farthest from the lab tech first.
"My god!" Travers stares at him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
He ignores him, smacking the table leg into another microscope and pivoting to smash the printer on the table behind him. Natalia opens the door and calls for Travers. Ryan ignores her too, carefully removing the slide Travers had been looking at and setting it back in its bag. Then he smashes that microscope too.
His rage increases, and he begins punching everything in sight, crying out in frustration and pain as his hands bleed on the things he touches. The broken printer is lobbed through one of the walls, coming to a rest against the metal frame of the DNA lab. Infuriated, Ryan runs through the space, slamming through the unbroken wall on the other side of the lab.
He does not notice everyone running around him, running from him. He has only one goal in mind: to destroy the machines that cannot help him.
oOo