gain, for the sake of repetition, I own nothing. No Ryan, no CSI. And again, warning: mentions of child abuse in this chapter.
Chapter 14
When Ryan woke up the other morning, he was lying on the floor. He remembered, when he was younger, and his father had locked him in, he had leaned against the door to sleep. Like this, he could hear his parents outside, walking around, doing whatever they did while their son was sitting in the basement, trying not to freak out because it was dark. Funny enough, he'd never developed a real fear of the dark. Ok, he felt more at ease when there was light; this was probably why he never slept very long. And whenever he went to the eye doctor (Duke was terribly afraid that Ryan's eyesight wouldn't be good enough for Army Duty, so he took him to the eye doctor on a regular basis), he was scared silly the days before, that he could have some eye disease, and become blind, and had to spend the rest of his life in darkness. But then again, Ryan had always been panicking about such things. Come to think about, he probably was not only OCD, but a real hypochondriac nutcase… Wherever that came from. He sighed and climbed up the stairs and sat against the door. His parents were awake already. He wondered when his father would let him out. Normally, it was the first thing he did in the morning. But then again, that was only when Ryan had to go to school. Since it was still holidays, it could very well be that Duke let him in the basement the whole day… It was funny, actually. Since he had holidays, he would have preferred to get slapped a few times for his inappropriate comment. Okay, it hurt more, but at least it was over fast. And since he didn't have to go to school, he didn't have to hide bruises and stuff. But sitting here in the basement was…. so boring. Nothing to do all the time but think. And since he had taken his decision, he didn't want to think anymore. Everything was fine. He would do what his father expected him to do, and it would be okay. Period. He wouldn't start to rethink that.
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Ryan didn't know how long he was sitting in the basement when finally the door opened. It was Duke. Ryan got up immediately.
Duke asked, "You have something to say?" Ryan knew what he wanted. An apology. Something like 'Sir, I apologize for having said that you are unfair. I was an idiot to say so. You always did what was right for me. I apologize, I don't deserve being your son.' Something like that. Ryan had already opened his mouth to say exactly that, when he couldn't. Suddenly, he couldn't. He wasn't sorry for what he said, it was the truth. Saying he was sorry would be a lie.
And Ryan Wolfe wasn't a liar, "I don't have to say anything, Sir"
"You're sure?"
"Yes Sir, I am."
The door didn't close. Duke just walked away. Ryan knew what it meant. And he left the basement and went to Duke's office.
--
Half an hour later, he was lying on his bed. On his stomach. His back was aching. His father had just given him a lesson. 20 beats. With the belt. On his back. Ryan preferred the belt to the cane, but still, it hurt like hell. The back went numb, normally after the first five beats, but as soon as the numbness was over, the pain came. And it came hard. He could be lucky that his dad knew where to hit, so there wouldn't be any dangerous injuries. But the pain was there. He got up and went over to the bathroom. He took his clothes off and turned the shower on. The cold water would help a bit. He glanced over his shoulder back into the mirror. Normally he didn't do that. But this time, he wanted. He wanted to see what Duke had done to him. Red marks were criss-crossing his back. None of them was bleeding, though. Duke never beat him till blood flew. But his back looked disgusting nevertheless. He got into the shower. When the cold water flew over his back, he had to swallow. Not because of the pain. But because of the rest that went on during such a 'lesson'. Kneeling down. Exposing his back to Duke. Being completely without shelter. Having to count aloud every beat. Feeling his voice getting weaker with every beat. He didn't knew why he had to count. He had figured out this was just another adding to his punishment. Maybe Duke was afraid Ryan would shut down, not concentrate on the beating, and as a result, not really 'feeling' it. By making Ryan count, Duke made sure Ryan would stay focused. And of course, knowing that, after the first hit, there were 19 more to come was a way of a subtle torture. But the worst thing was when he had to thank his father. Thank him! What for? For beating him? For humiliating him? Ryan could handle the pain. But this humiliation was too much. He slammed his fist against the wall. Thank you for making me feel like shit… But then, he took a deep breath. Not showing feelings. He turned off the water, took a towel and rubbed is hair. When he looked into the mirror again, he had to smile, despite of the pain. Fuzzy. Fuzzy hair. He ran his fingers through it. It looked good. It felt good. He dried the rest of his body, and put some clothes on. Then he took his keys and went outside. He didn't know where to go. But he had to think. Now, that the machines in his head had started working again, he had to think.
--
He just walked around. Without a plan. At least, he thought so. But suddenly he found himself back at the police office. Well, if he was there, he could ask Roberts if they had already found someone that owned a car matching Deborah's description of the car that ran her over. He opened the door and asked for Robert's at the reception desk. He wasn't there.
But Channing was. He smiled when he saw Ryan, "Glad to see you're alright, Ryan. You're here about the hit-and-run I suppose?" Ryan nodded. Channing motioned him over to his office and offered him a cup of coffee. "So, let me fill you in. Our crime-scene investigators have found out that the paint trace found on your sister was not exactly green, but brown. It's easy to mistake in such a situation. They have also matched the paint to the paint of a delivery service car. Roberts is currently asking the manager of the local office whether one of his drivers had a damaged truck after the accident. He'll be back soon…"
Ryan looked at Channing, "You can find out such things simply by looking at a bit of paint?"
Channing laughed, "It surprises me again and again. The guys from the CSI can find out everything… at least, so it seems. I've been to many crime scenes where it looked to me like there was nothing that could give us a lead on the culprit. They found him. It's amazing what you can do with science…"
"What do you have to do to become a crime scene analyst?" Ryan didn't know why he asked.
Channing shrugged, "I don't know. Guess you have to be good in chemistry, physics, etc… Maybe have a special field of knowledge on one subject… I heard about this guy, also a crime scene investigator, who's one of the best etymologists in the States. But I don't know for sure. If you want, I can arrange a meeting with the supervisor of our night shift. You can ask him about that. Does that interest you?"
"I don't know… maybe…" Ryan bit his lip. "Can I ask you something else?"
"Shoot."
"When I was here to make my statement the other day… there was this girl… the rape victim… Did you find who did it to her?"
Channing nodded, "Just about two hours ago. Again, thanks to our CSI. The girl was smart enough the scratch her attacker. They found his DNA under her fingernails, and when the results came back this morning, we immediately arrested him. And he admitted his crime. I can tell you, I'll never forget the smile on the girl's face when I went over to tell her." He smiled now, too. "This is what I live for. Those moments. There's nothing better than being able to tell a victim that they'll have a bit of justice, at least… I'm surprised you remember her…"
Ryan sighed, "I can't get her out of my head. This... this face… I wonder what humans are capable of doing to fellow humans… to women… to children…" His voice trembled at the last word.
Channing watched him, "You know you can talk to me, Ryan."
Ryan nodded, "I know, yes. But I can't. It's okay…" He got up.
Channing did the same. He checked his watch. "Let's just check if the supervisor from night shift is here."
--
He was there. And he took his time with Ryan. He answered every question, explained every process they made, told him about the education he needed… Ryan took more notes than he did ever before in school. At the end of the conversation, he knew everything he needed to, plus many lovely anecdotes from the job. When he left the break room where they had been talking, he ran into officers Roberts and Channing. The smile on Roberts' face told him they had found the guy who ran Deborah over. And in this exact moment, Ryan Wolfe made his decision. He wouldn't join the army. He would become a police officer, and later on try to become a Crime Scene Investigator. Cop. Not soldier. The moment he made this decision, he felt his heart ease. The tension he had felt since he was old enough to understand what his father wanted was gone. He remembered the moment in Miami where he had decided to become a soldier. He had waited for this feeling. This feeling of pressure gone. It hadn't happened there. But it had happened now. And this was the most obvious sign to him that this time, the decision he had made was the right one. He smiled.
Channing grinned, "Seems like this conversation was a success. So, you gonna join us, instead of the army?"
Ryan nodded, "Yes. I'll become a police officer."
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Author's Note: Again, thanks so much for all reviews and people adding my story to their favourites/alert list, I really appreciate that. I plan on doing like two or three more chapters, and the faster you review, the faster you'll get them. Luv ya all.