Healing the Scars

Richie and Ryan fell into an easy rhythm over the next couple of weeks of sharing time together at work It also became as comfortable for Ryan to go to Richie's after work as it did for him to go home.

Ryan told Richie it was because he loved to be with him and that was true. What was also true was that he had started to dread going home. Between his feelings of guilt and Annie's growing indifference to him, he really had nothing much to look forward to except for his daughter. He didn't want to share his concerns with Richie, but of course Richie could figure out what he was doing. He always seemed to know what he was doing and thinking. It was scary sometimes.

One evening after dinner Ryan was staring into the fire with a somber expression on his face.

"Hey, what's wrong"? Richie asked, putting an arm around Ryan's shoulder.

Sighing, he tried to decide how much of his situation he should talk about. He really didn't want to burden Richie with stories about his problems with Annie. Annie had become civil to Richie since Thanksgiving, trying to mend fences with him "while she still could" she said.

In spite of Richie's protests,Annie continued to push the idea of pairing Richie with Babe. She gave Richie tickets to a concert one night and told him to bring Babe. Babe had been unable to attend, and Ryan and Richie had gone instead. It had turned out to be a very romantic evening.

Ryan knew he should feel guilty about this relationship with Richie. It just was out of his control. His emotions, his reaction to him, his need was too great to let him go. And he didn't want to let him go. He tried to rationalize it by saying no one knew how long Richie had. But when he would allow himself to be honest he would say if Richie were cured tomorrow he still couldn't bring himself to let go. He was in too deep and he knew it.

Ryan could see that Richie struggled with the same feelings. He had felt anger and hatred toward Annie for so long that it was hard to rid himself of that. And now that she was making overtures toward him, seeming as though she wanted reconciliation, there was a part of Richie that wanted that too. So, he had guilt and sadness about what he was doing. But he couldn't stop himself, either

In response to Richie's question Ryan said"Life is too complicated, isn't it"

Richie laughed and agreed. Then he got serious and said" Is this about Annie"

Ryan nodded and Richie moved closer and looked deeply into his eyes.

"Ryan, do you want to end this? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" Richie tried to sound nonchalant when he said this, but he knew he was failing.

"No, no, God Richie! I'm not even thinking that!" Ryan's voice got loud and he realized he was panicking. He blushed. "The last thing I want is to lose you now". "Or ever". He thought to himself.

Richie's face showed his relief and he quickly lowered his head to hide it.

Ryan had seen him, however, and he lifted his chin and kissed him. Pulling Richie tightly to him, he said "There's no way in hell that I'm leaving you. No way".

Richie was glad that his face was close to Ryan's chest so his face wouldn't reveal how much those words meant to him. He felt frightened at how much Ryan had come to mean to him.

Experience had taught Richie that needing someone, depending on someone only led to disappointment, loss, or incredible pain.

As if sensing what Richie was feeling, Ryan pulled Richie away slightly so he could look at his face. "Did you really think I would leave you now"?

"I wouldn't blame you. I know how much it means for you to have a family, to have Emma".

"I'm not losing Emma. And I don't think Annie and I are going to be together too much longer. Too much has happened, and I don't just mean us. You've been a catalyst, but Annie and I had problems before that. She was always holding back from me, hiding pieces of herself. And when you came along I saw sides of her I really didn't like. I understood it when I thought you were guilty of all those things she thought you'd done. But when I saw how she still acted toward you when you were found innocent, it made me feel differently about her. I lost a lot of the love I felt for her because I realized I really didn't know her. And I didn't like what I found out".

Richie interrupted with the bizarre need to defend Annie. "You can't totally blame her for finding it hard to let go of the anger she had for so long. I find it hard to let go of. "

"You have a reason to never let go of the anger. You were the one who was innocent".

"Yeah, but Ryan my father didn't know that Annie wasn't the one who pushed him out the window any more than he didn't know it wasn't me. Yet he believed me and not her. And he never let her forget it." Richie sighed. "I wish he had remembered it was our mother a long time before that." He looked at Ryan and said "If you hadn't convinced him to get hypnotherapy to remember that night we might never have known. Thank you".

"Don't thank me. I only did that because I thought it would prove you were guilty".

"It doesn't matter. It made Annie and I realize that we were both victims. Our mother turned out to be the one who had done all those things Annie accused me of. And she got off on watching the two of us try and destroy each other. She set us up. She also had this sick obsession about me. The more Annie accused me, the more I had to look to her for comfort and affection. The problem was that my father took my side,too. So she didn't have me to herself. She started escalating things to make me look psychotic. I even began to doubt myself." Richie's voice broke as he remembered what his mother had done. Ryan reached for him and said"You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to. But if you do, I'm listening."

Richie nodded and continued with his story. "The more I doubted myself the more I lashed out at Annie. It never crossed my mind that my own mother would do something like that to me. So I assumed it was Annie. Because my father sided with me in spite of her efforts my mother decided that my father had to die.

When my father was thrown from the window but didn't die my mother didn't know what she should do. If she implicated me then I could get in trouble. But if she implicated memy father would shun me and she would have me all to herself. My father didn't know who had done it, but he was so angry at being deaf from the accident that he couldn't focus on anything else.

Right after that, Annie set me up to go away for the robbery and assault. She believed I had thrown my father out the window and she was afraid."

"What she did was horrible, Richie". Ryan protested. "It was one thing to think you'd be sent to a hospital and get help. It's another thing to hold back and lie when she found out that you were going to end up not only in prison, but in a maximum security prison. I've seen the scars of what happened to you there. "

Ryan let his fingers gently trace the scars on Richie's back. "You didn't deserve these. No one does, but especially not you. You weren't even guilty of what they accused you of." He lowered his lips to where his fingers were still tracing the scars. He could hear Richie's indrawn breath and felt him tense.

"That doesn't hurt.does it"?

"Not physically,no. It's just that whenever anyone touches or even looks at them tooclosely, well let's just say it brings back-"

"Badmemories"? Ryan questioned.

Richie's smile was the saddest he'd ever seen on anyone. "Ryan" he stood up and moved to walk back to the kitchen. "Bad is the least of what I'd call these memories".

Ryan was mortified to think that his comment seemed to make Richie feel even worse. He got up to join him and found Richie pouring some whiskey for himself.

"Richie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to trivialize what you went through.'

"I know you didn't And it's not your fault."

Ryan walked over and put his arms around Richie. "Can you pour one of those for me,too"? He asked. "Then I'd like to not talk for awhile and just lie down on the rug near the fireplace and relax. Does that sound ok"?

Richie smiled and visibly relaxed. "No talking sounds promising to me" and handed the glass he had poured to Ryan, headed to the rug and stretched out on it.

Ryan lied down next to him and watched him. Richie still looked very upset and he rolled over on his stomach, turning his face away from Ryan's. Ryan sat partially up then and stroked Richie's shoulder. The light from the fire made the scars seem brighter and angrier somehow, and Ryan couldn't help touching them again.

This time Richie did not flinch and move away. He didn't move at all, but Ryan could hear a change in his breathing. He had a hitch in his breath, and there were tears in his eyes.

Ryan just kept touching him, stroking lightly, then just as softly as before he kissed the scars.

In the firelight he could see Richie's tears falling, but he didn't say a word.

Ryan pulled him closer and ran his fingers through Richie's hair.

"I was eighteen when I went to prison." Richie said softly. "I was by no means green or innocent. I acted out because of all the shit going on at home. I ran with a gang for awhile, right before I went away. Nothing that serious. Petty crimes, bullshit. Just something to belong to, you know? Someway to get rid of the anger".

Ryan thought of his own experiences with places like the fight club,when he had tried to get rid of his anger. Those types of things never worked out well, but you couldn't tell anyone that when they were in the throes of their angerand self hatred.

"So, I knew how to fight" Richie was speaking again, Ryan realized and snapped out of his reverie. "I knew how to defend myself. But I was alone, and Ryan, one thing you never want is to be in prison alone. With no alliances, no affiliations I was doomed. I was in a fucking maximum security prison, for Christ's sake! Me, an eighteen year old with no priors. The predators saw me coming a mile away

My cellmate used to beat me up every nightEvery night! And I couldn't get away. I couldn't ask for a transfer without him finding out and killing me. I couldn't tell the authorities, because being a snitch was worse than actually doing something horrible to another person. He used his hands, his belt, his ---well anything he could find. He was so fucking crazy. He was out of his mind with rage. He had KILLED people, Ryan! Killed people. And I was his cellmate. And I became his—well, what would you call it-bitch?" His bitch. It was horrible and humiliating, and I dreaded it. Dreaded everything. But the sex wasn't as bad as the beatings. At least when he was fucking me he could be aggressive without making me practically unconscious.

But he got progressively more possessive of me. Jealous of anyone else talking to me, touching me. It was insane. But he'd start fights with guys he thought were even looking at me. "

Ryan thought that the bizarre behavior notwithstanding he could understand the man's feelings. There was something about Richie that drew people to him, something very sexual and sensual. Because he and Richie could not act like lovers when they went out Ryan was treated to the effect Richie had on women and men alike. It was very difficult to not want to push the offending person out of the way and say something totally inappropriate, suchas "Back the fuck up, he's mine!" Ryan could imagine how he would have acted if he had been psychotic.

"One day he hit the wrong person. Someone who had connections that reached far higher than his.

They found him dead the next day. Thankfully I was in a class at that time."

"Did things get better then"? Ryan asked. Hoping the answer would be yes.

"Somewhat". Said Richie. "I was still the property of someone. But he treated me much better than John had. He actually encouraged my learning, my attempts to improve my body and mind. I even started to feel better about the -----you know.sex". Richie lowered his voice when he said that so Ryan had to get closer to hear him.

"Richie that is nothing to be ashamed of. I'm glad you were able to feel pleasure, maybe even affection from someone. It must have helped tremendously."

Richie paused while he tried to regain his composure. Finally he said "Well, the sex was still more about his pleasure than mine. But it was good sometimes. At least it wasn't brutal.

And everything else- it was like someone handed me a lifeline. I truly don't know what would have happened to me if Joseph hadn't taken me. He was the one that John had hit. The one who killed him. I was terrified of him at first, but then I realized that he didn't want to hurt me. I was grateful. But I wasn't free." Richie sighed. "That's why when I left I determined to not get involved with Joseph's associates on the outside. I wanted to be on my own. I wanted freedom, especially since I knew I didn't have much time."

"And we wasted so much of it harassing you, didn't we?"

"Hell, Ryan don't worry too much about it. If you hadn't gotten me fired and made me work for you we'd never have gotten together". Richie smiled at him, but the memory of that time made Ryan cringe. He'd been so sure he was right, that Annie was right. But even if they had been, the things he did to him were cruel. He'd effectively cornered him, stripped him of everything. And Richie still turned around and beat him at his own game.

And then Ryan had fallen for him.

Not that he would tell Richie that. It scared him to even think it, much less say it. But it was the truth.

He let his fingers run down Richie's scars again, leaning down to lay a trail of kisses down his back, stopping where they did –at the very small of his back, down to the top of his ass. He continued to the ones on the inside of his thighs, pausing to lick up and down as he stroked him and kissed him.

Richie moaned and spread his legs out further.

"I want to make it go away," Ryan said, his voice shaking with anger and sadness.

"I know you do, Ryan. And I –thank you for that. But you can't. These are scars I'll always carry. No one can heal them".

"Yes, yes we can. We can. Not make them go away physically, but we can make the pain go away."

Ryan moved back up to Richie's side.

Richie turned over and ran his fingers down Ryan's face. "How can we do that"?

"We're doing it now; we do it every time we touch, whenever we make love, every time we hold each other. Every time we do that we replace one of those memories the scars symbolize with a loving one.

"I'm not sure that's going to work, Ryan." Richie said dejectedly and rolled back on to his stomach.

Ryan whispered to him "It's already working. You feel this scar?" Ryan circled it with his finger.

Richie nodded.

"It's starting to disappear. Seriously, don't laugh. We can do it" Ryan took Richie's face in his hands and kissed him.

"We can do anything".

Richie closed his eyes and thought how much he wanted that to be true.

TBC