She stared dully at the ceiling, tears flowing down her eyes in tune to the throbbing of her left leg. It felt like it was broken. Some perverse part of her hoped that it was broken. It welcomed the pain, the punishment. She knew that she deserved this. "How could you have been so blind, so stupid?", she silently screamed at herself. No answer was forthcoming.

She was usually very good at spotting the right kind of man – desperate, and easily satisfied. A man who wouldn't ask her awkward questions after, who wouldn't even ask her for her name. A man who wouldn't complain. But something had gone wrong yesterday in that club and she had made a mistake. A really big mistake. Now she was lying on his bed with a broken leg and a bloody face, and she didn't even know where she was. Most of last night was lost in a drunken haze. Some images stood out sharply though. The taste of blood in her mouth when he punched her, the blinding agony of pain when her leg snapped. She gritted her teeth and tried to move, but the sudden stab of pain made spots dance in front of her eyes. "oh god oh god please don't pass out, please please". She took deep breaths and battled for consciousness.

After a while, she became aware of something hard digging into her back, right between her shoulder blades. Carefully not moving the lower part of her body, she reached beneath her and felt the object. The relief came out as a sob as she felt her phone. She brought it up carefully and looked at it for a few minutes. Black despair bloomed within her as she realized that there was no one she could call, no one she really knew, no one she trusted enough to take care of her. 'You're all alone darling' said a mocking voice. A voice she knew very well. It had kept her company during all those times she was high, urging her to do more, dragging her deeper into the abyss she'd built for herself. The same voice had made her life living hell during rehab, laughing at her, tempting her to lose herself again. She dug her nails into her palm and ignored it, desperately willed it away. There was no return for her if she started believing the voice. None at all. She had to call someone...someone…

He absently cut the pineapple into thin slices as he studied his injured knuckles. I really should move the bed away from the wall, he thought. Too many nights he'd woken up punching the wall, a remainder of Pelican bay. That wall in his cell was a dark shade of brown by the time he'd gotten out. And old habits died hard. He stared into the sunlight as he ate, thinking of how to while away the Sunday, knowing that being idle was not a good idea. His mind wandered into dark corridors when left alone, pathways which weren't safe at all, for him or for anyone around him. Another old habit. He jumped slightly as his phone vibrated on the table, and brightened as he saw the caller's name. Reese. Which meant another case, and that meant that he'd keep himself busy and safe.

"Morning Reese. What's up?"

"Crews? I.. uh.. I need some help.."

He leaned forward, lines of concern etching his face. She sounded like she had difficulty in breathing, or like she'd been crying. Most of all, she sounded like she was in pain. He knew that sound.

"Reese? Everything okay? Where are you?"

Shame crept into her voice. "I'm..not sure. Could you run a trace on my phone?"

His voice was neutral. "You don't know where you are. Okay. I'll get someone to run a trace. And I'll be there."

"Crews? You might need to break the door down."

Whose place was this? He wondered. It was a dingy, shady apartment complex, generously littered with cigarette butts and used condoms. Not risking the elevator, he found his way up to 6B. He called Reese, and could hear her phone ring from behind the door. Cutting the call, he considered the door in front of him. Flimsy, he decided. A single hard shove would do.

"Oh god, I'm naked. I'm naked" was the only thought running through her mind when the door burst in. She desperately looked around for a sheet to cover herself with but found nothing. She closed her eyes as she heard him walk through the hallway into the bedroom.

It took him a moment to process the scene in front of him. The room lived up to the state of the complex. It was dark and dirty. It was dominated by a double bed, which had a messy sheet on it. And on the bed…he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He thought he saw Dani Reese, but this woman was stark naked, with a face that looked like it was used for punching practice, eyes closed, and an ankle that was most definitely broken. He'd had broken enough bones in his body to know that. As he watched, the eyes opened, and looked at him. Now he was sure. He looked into those eyes every day. They were usually aggressive, sometimes laughing, and always, always, strong. These eyes conveyed a heartbreaking amount of vulnerability. He took another look at her, and felt something snap inside him.

Twelve years in prison had honed Charlie Crews' sense of territory to a sharp point. That's how he'd survived in there. His only skill for survival was to defend his territory, be it his mates, his space in the yard, or his body, and to immediately eliminate anything that threatened it. It was beaten into him regularly – protect your territory, the territory will protect you. And Dani Reese, she most definitely fell into his territory. He protected her, and she protected him. He felt his mind go blank, and a sense of exhilaration rise up in him. He was back, and he knew what to do.

Dani Reese thought she knew her partner, as well as anyone could know him. But the man she was looking at was not the man she worked cases with every day. His face, dear god, his face. It was hard, and cruel. His eyes were blazing, like blue ice. He looked like a predator out for its hunt.

He first picked a sheet off the floor and went to her. As he covered her with it, he took stock of the damage done to her face. He went to the bathroom and wet a towel he found hanging by the door. He got back and gently started cleaning her face up. Her right eye was blackened, her cheek had a gash and her lip was split. She resolutely stared at the ceiling, ignoring the stinging pain. She hadn't expected it, but his touch was gentle, like a feather.

"I'm gonna sit you up now Reese. It'll hurt just a little. Take a deep breath."

He put an arm behind her back and pushed her up. Her whimper of pain as her leg moved cut through his heart, but his grip never tightened. He secured the sheet around her and moved to her leg. He tore a strip off the towel and started making a makeshift sling. It would do until he took her to the hospital.

She looked at his head bent over her leg. His hair looked brown in the dark, she thought. His deft fingers spoke of years of practice at emergency sling making. How many times did he have to do it in the privacy of his cell? How many sheets did he have to tear up in twelve years? She started as he looked up suddenly.

"Don't worry Reese. I've one this lots of times. You'll be fine."

He'd read her mind. She tried to smile but couldn't pull it off. "I'm not worried."

His work done, he sat in front of her and placed the sling on her leg. As he did, he absently said, "You're gonna tell me who did this after I take you to the hospital." She felt chilled at the tone of his voice. It wasn't a request, it was a statement. A command. A gentle, but irrevocable command. He looked up her, eyes dark and empty. "I won't say it again Reese. You are gonna give me his name."

"I don't know his name."

His eyes became darker and his hands went still. He softly said, "You don't know his name?"

She was suddenly tired. Defeated. "No Crews. I don't. I don't know who he is and I don't know where he is now. All I know is that I had sex with him and he wanted me to do some things that I..didn't want to do. And he didn't like that."

His expression didn't change. "Then I'll find out who he is."

Dani Reese suddenly felt peaceful. She knew she should be scared of this man. A man who looked like what he did right now was capable of extreme violence, of killing with bare hands. But she wasn't scared. She had told him her most shameful secret and he hadn't judged her. She felt protected. She'd never felt protected her whole life, and this large man with orange hair and pale blue eyes that promised a painful death to anyone who harmed her made her feel safe and secure. She felt unbearably tired. She could have happily let go and fallen asleep with complete knowledge that this man would fight for her life. But she held on. She owed him the truth.

"Crews. This is not… the first time. It's just that I picked the wrong guy."

"We're all fucked up Reese. One way or the other. But no one harms you and gets away with it. No one. You don't need to worry about that. I'll take care of it."

"Crews. This doesn't go out of this room. I've had an accident for anyone concerned."

"It won't. I told you. I'll take care of it."

With that, he picked her up, silently shocked at how light she was, and carried her through the door. She put her head against his chest, and lulled by his steady heart beat, finally let go.