A Helping Hand

By

Aranna Undomiel

I've been struggling to get this short story to flow like I wanted it to. Still not really sure it worked out the way I envisioned, but I hope you'll like it anyway. This is set about 2 months after the events in 1x10 "Anslo Garrick".

Enjoy!

'She had no right!' His frown deepened as he walked down the hallway as fast as he could manage, his cane hollowly clanking against the floor of the Blacksite as he hurried away from her. She had no right to interfere with how he did his job, no right to tell him what he could and could not do! And definitely no right to tell him he can't save her!

Using every ounce of self-control he possessed he managed not to slam the door behind him as he stepped into his office. Throwing his cane in a corner, he sank down into his chair. Or at least tried to, as the muscles in his left leg seized up and he was unable to bend it enough to sit down. Gritting his teeth against the waves of pain radiating outward, he suppressed a groan as he manoeuvred himself upright again, waiting for the cramp to subside at least slightly.

Still standing, he debated his options. Going home, his best choice, was not an option unfortunately. There were still files he needed to check and sign and the debriefing needed to be written down, things that couldn't be done at home. So that left him with his second option: using the couch that had mysteriously appeared in their new break-room. Eyeing the deserted offices around him, he sighed before turning around to his desk to collect the files he needed, another spike of pain searing through his leg as he put weight on it. Hissing a curse through his clenched teeth, he grabbed the edge of his desk to steady himself.

Putting on a stoic mask, he limped through the hallways, which were thankfully empty due to the late hour; willing his leg to keep going for just a bit longer. By the time he stood in front of the couch, he could feel the sweat running along his hairline and he was nearly out of breath. Clamping his teeth shut, he lowered his rigid body gingerly down on the couch, keeping his left leg stretched out, as his right served as an anchor on the floor. Leaning back against the headrest, he closed his eyes as he tried to ride out the pain, once again thankful for the lack of people around him…

As his muscles slowly relaxed a bit, he muttered darkly under his breath for good measure. "Damn you Keen!" "Hey now, I'm not the one who thought coming into work only two months after being shot and nearly dying, was a good idea. And I'm certainly not the one who was stupid enough to run and jump with that leg while you can hardly even walk with it!" Someone exclaimed from behind him and startled, he swiftly turned around, jostling his leg. "Keen…" His leg seized up because of the sudden movement and he gritted his teeth, grabbing the sides of the couch as the pain flared, eyes closing of their own volition, breath coming in short gasps. He was oblivious to his surroundings, so he was sure Liz had been talking to him for a while before her voice penetrated the pain-haze. "Easy Ressler, don't make it worse…" He blinked his eyes open in shock as he felt her hands landing on his left leg, his body stiffening in anticipation of more pain as she started to put pressure on his upper leg. "Keen…Liz…" He managed to hold back on saying 'please', but to his horror it was easily audible in his voice.

Liz' voice took on a soothing tone. "Just lie back Don, I know what I'm doing." He refused at first, keeping his body rigid. He tried to process what was happening, feeling utterly confused, a feeling he had gotten uncomfortably familiar with since he was working with Elizabeth Keen. He hadn't even realised he had grabbed her hands to stop her ministrations, until she gently pried her hands from his hold. She moved her hands to his shoulders and gently pushed him down, keeping up the pressure until he finally gave in, leaning back against the headrest. Soon after her hands returned to his leg again, resuming their pressure on his muscles, causing them to seize up again in response.

Caught by surprise at the intensity once again, he was unable to hold back a hiss of pain, glaring at Keen for good measure, who looked back at him with a somewhat apologetic expression on her face. "I'm sorry, it usually gets a bit worse before it gets better" "What are you doing, Keen?" She looked at him with her radiant blue eyes, gaze matching the seriousness in her tone. "You saved my life today. The least I can do is help you get back on your feet again." Looking at him to see if he understood what she meant, he just shrugged in response. "You're my partner, that's what partners do, Keen."

Sighing, Liz shook her head at him. "Exactly. And I need my partner back in fighting shape. A knight in shining wheelchair doesn't really have a nice ring to it, now does it?" At his incredulous look, she burst out laughing and he could feel the corners of his mouth lifting in response. A particularly painful spasm pulled his attention back to his leg and he tried to pull his leg out from under her hands, but she followed his movement and continued the pushing and pulling motions along his upper leg.

Gradually he could feel his taught muscles starting to relax, the sharp pain turning to a dull ache. It didn't take long for the rest of his body to follow the example of his leg and he sank down against the armrest. After a few more minutes he could feel his eyelids starting to droop now that his body no longer needed to fight the pain and he blinked heavily. Liz expertly continued to kneed the kinks out of his abused muscles and he realised that the last time he hadn't been aware that there were muscles in his leg, was before the 'incident' in the Box. After that, he had been constantly reminded, every movement making him realise that nothing was as easy as before. He sank down on the couch even further, vaguely aware of Liz smiling out of the corner of his eye; before he sank into oblivion.

He woke up feeling relaxed and well rested, for the first time in a long time, his body heavy with the feeling of sleep. Blinking hazily at his surroundings, he realised he wasn't at home. Eyes roaming the room, they landed on a lone figure in a chair beside his couch. "Keen?"

Looking up from the file she was reading, her blue eyes settled on him and she smiled. "Good morning Ressler. How are you feeling?" Gingerly moving his body into a sitting position, he rested a hand on his injured leg, before looking back at her in wonder. "I'm actually good…Thank you" Once again looking at his surroundings, he vaguely could hear the murmurs of voices outside the break-room. "What time is it?" He questioned and Liz looked up from where she now stood by the counter. "It's 6.30 AM. Red is already in the building. He has a new lead on a Blacklister for us. I'd figured I'd wake you up first so nobody would see you lying here. You looked so peaceful last night that I couldn't bring myself to wake you up and send you home when I left." She explained as she walked up to him, a steaming mug of coffee held out for him, which he gratefully accepted.

He looked her over questioningly as she packed up her files. "Where did you learn to do that?" he asked shyly. A sad look appeared in her blue eyes as she answered him. "My dad had an old war-wound that would play up from time to time. His physical therapist taught me how to help him relax the muscles again." A faraway look appeared in her eyes and he cursed himself for his insensitivity. "I'm sorry Keen, I didn't mean to…" "No that's alright, you didn't know" She interrupted him, before heading out the door. "I'll see you in the conference room in 15 minutes"

"Hey Keen…Liz" his voice stopped her before she crossed the threshold. "Thank you…" A smile lit up her face as she looked back at him. "Any time Ressler. As you said, that's what partners do."

Shaking his head in exasperation at her retreating back, he slowly got up and made his way to his office to change his suit, before heading to the conference room, his injured leg cooperating the entire time…

Settling into one of the chairs in the conference room, he was glad to only feel a mild twitch in his left leg. "You're looking quite comfortable there, Donald" came a voice from his right. Groaning on the inside, he kept up his stoic façade, even managing to hide the flinch at being snuck upon. "Red" He acknowledged curtly, not even looking at the older man. "There is nothing that is better for the tired and painful muscles than a massage, now is there, Donald?" Red expressed, as he ambled into his line of sight.

He blinked and raised one eyebrow in question; studiously ignoring the half smirk Red threw his way at catching him off guard. "You offering, Red? Cause I'd hate to have to disappoint you by turning you down." He replied and his uneasy feeling increased as Red's grin grew. "Now Donald, I'm sure even you could find someone better than me, don't you think. More so, I imagine you already have, haven't you?" Red leered, before walking away as the others filed into the conference room, leaving him once again speechless. He glared at the back of Red's head, trying to fight his blush as he thought back to last night.

THE END

I really hope you liked reading this. Please leave me a review to tell me your thoughts and make my day :D