Happy Birthday to me! 3 Yeah, I love myself and I'm gonna celebrate myself today. Myself, the fact that I am alive, and that so many people which I love are around me, even if today my parents can't. Don't matter. I'll do it Emily Blake style and give myself a chapter for my b'day. All of you, celebrate yourself! Every single person out there is amazing, and you need to see you're amazing too.

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

Chapter 6

When they arrived at Nicole's and Valera's place, Ryan was greeted by Frankie, Nicole's Rottweiler. "Hey there, easy young lady… Don't use the teeth…" He cautiously patted Frankie's head. "Nice girl. Nice. Really nice. Nicole, help me."

"Off, Frankie. Come on, you know the man is afraid of dogs." She lured the dog away with a goody. "That's a good girl." She looked around. "At least the cats are having a good time." All the cats were cuddled next to each other on the sofa. All, except for The Blackadder. "Looks like he likes you."

The street cat had made his way from the sofa over to Ryan and strolled around his legs. Ryan knelt down and caressed her head, "Hey there. Haven't seen you in a long time. You're alright?" The cat meowed. Ryan felt a bit of a heartache looking at it. The Blackadder was missing an ear and an eye. But other than that, it had changed remarkably from the day they had found it in a dumpster. "You're getting a little chubby. Is Nicole treating you alright?"

"It's just because he doesn't want to go out into the garden. All the others go, but the Blackadder is too scared." Nicole yelled from the kitchen. "Why don't you go to my bedroom? The cat can come with you. I'll just prepare us a snack."

"Bedroom?" He frowned. "Do you have any plans you didn't tell me about?"

"Yeah, of course, I'm gonna listen to your sad story and then we'll have amazing sex. Just like in the movies." She came back from the kitchen. "No, but if Valera enters, you don't want her to eavesdrop on it."

"True." He walked through the flat trying to figure out which room was Nicole's bedroom. As he stood next to a room that had no door but instead of it a huge Union Jack blocking the inside from any unwanted looks, he gave it a shot. "You don't have a door?"

"Nope. Doors produce stress. The flag has the same effect than a door, but without the banging."

"Oh well," he muttered, "I'm sure I'll find a bunch of Feng Shui books in there." He pushed the flag away and entered. The room was neat and tidy; a round bed in the middle of it, covered in violet sheets. He turned away from the bed, blushing a bit, and studied the wall next to the door. It was full of framed pictures. One showed Natalia and Valera in front of HQ. Another one in a club. There was a picture of Walter and Jesse, Walter in white coverall. That's from the Burgess case when Walter had pulled the DB out of the plane's toilet…There was one with him and Walter. One with him and Natalia. He didn't remember ever seeing a camera in Nicole's hands. And then there were about 20 shots of Valera, in her pyjamas, her bathing robe, at the hairdresser's… He turned away from the wall when Nicole entered, "Do you and Valera have an affair?"

"What?"

"Well, you gotta admit there are more pictures of Valera than of anybody else. And how the hell did you take those pictures of me?"

"I have my camera with me all the time. You never know when there's a moment worth a picture." She sat the plate with the cookies and two steaming cups of coffee down on the bedside table. "So… errr… I think I kinda broke the mood when I'd say we go home. So, let's just sit on the bed, have coffee and discuss the case?"

Ryan continued looking at the pictures. One showed Nicole, Valera and two elderly people. "That Maxine's parents?"

"That's Big Ben in the background. These are my parents."

"They look lovely."

"Oh, they are." She asked cautiously, "I suppos you don't have any pictures."

"Oh, I have. When we went to dinner the last time, when they were here in Miami. After I got Ron and my mom back…"

"So, things between you and your father are okay again?" She started nibbling on a cookie.

Ryan sighed, "Let's say… we're working on it. I mean, you noticed I didn't say 'hello' to my father when we were at Ron's party. It's… still hard, you know. I try my best, he tries his best... but in the end, it takes time." He sat down on the bed, "Are you really sure you want to know the whole story?"

"Are you sure you wanna tell me?"

Ryan's hand automatically reached down to caress the Blackadder who had curled in a ball at his feet. The cat licked his fingers first, then proceeded to jump on his lap. "I guess… after all… I've never came this close to telling anybody before." He took a deep breath. "I never thought this would be so hard." After all, he had told Horatio about it. The whole team knew. Hell, the whole lab did, from what he had heard earlier.

Nicole sat down in front of him on the floor so that when she looked up his eyes would meet hers. "You don't have to, Ryan."

But Ryan shook his head and said, in a voice that was barely more than a whisper, "My dad always wanted me to become a soldier. Just like he was, and his father before him. When my sister became a victim of abuse, I reported it, and ran into some crime scene investigators. I realized that's what I wanted to do. And I told my dad immediately." By now he had started licking his lips nervously and concentrated on caressing the cat, trying to not meet Nicole's eyes. "He was… not amused, as you Brits would put it. He was furious." There was a lump forming in his throat, but he fought it back. This was so different from what he had felt when he'd told Horatio. Back then, he had just stated the facts, worrying too much about his uncle to really feel anything. But here, in Nicole's cosy bedroom where everything smelled of fresh coffee, and with the Blackadder purring like a new car… it was so different from the sterile smell and the coldness in the lab that he couldn't but let his guard down. "He beat me up. It wasn't the first time. He beat me up quite a lot, but it had never been like that before. He was so angry… out of control. He didn't stop. He broke his cane on me in one single hit. Then he trashed me with his belt." He closed his eyes, feeling a wave of nausea coming over him. "There was so much blood… So much… I… I screamed, I begged him to stop… he didn't." He swallowed. "I don't know what made him stop later. I don't even know how long it went on. It felt like an eternity. After he had finished… he made me clean his belt and the floor with my own shirt. I thought it was over then, but when I was done… He threw me out. He tucked me by the hair, dragged me out on the front lawn, spat in my face and told me if he ever sees me again I wouldn't be able to stand on my own two feet anymore." He paused, breathed in slowly. "He would have done it. My mom cried, but to no avail. I was lucky to have Ron. He came to Boston immediately, can you imagine? But the hours before his arrival… I was at the airport, waiting for him, covered in blood, in my bloody shirt. Everybody looked at me, wondering, why is that kid there, all alone. It was so humiliating. To see the pity and the disgust in their eyes… Excuse me for a second." He cautiously placed the Blackadder on the pillow, raced to the bathroom and threw up. As he was sitting there, shaking, he still couldn't let the tears flow. Tears had been beaten out of him.

He only noticed Nicole had followed him when she handed him a wet towel. He wiped his face with it, but the sweat kept running over his body, drenching his clothes. By now, he was shaking violently. With the comforting purr of the Blackadder and the coffee smell gone, nothing was there to calm him. Nicole cautiously laid her arm around his shoulders and caressed his hair. The shaking stopped eventually, but Ryan didn't dare to move. He couldn't bring himself to look into Nicole's eyes, afraid of the pity he was sure was there to see. But, oh well, why not telling everything and destroy the last of respect she had for him? "My father's belt left marks. Some of them bled. I still have the scars. They're all over my back. No one but me has ever seen them. And no one will. I always keep my shirt on. Even with girls. Ask Natalia, she'll confirm it."

For the first time since he had started telling his story, Nicole said something, "Why?" Her voice was empty.

"Because I feel ashamed, of course. They show I couldn't defend myself. Everytime I look at them, it hurts. It feels like I'm there again. Those scars remind me everyday of the pain and fear I suffered from the hands of a man who was supposed to protect me. I don't want anybody seeing them. I couldn't stand that look of disgust. Not again…" His voice broke. "I'm sorry. Sorry you have to hear and see all this."

"No need to be sorry, darling." She held his head to her shoulder. "Really, no need to be. If somebody should be sorry, it's your father."

"He just wanted me to become strong. I know from my uncle that my father's upbringing was even worse than mine."

She crawled his hair, "That's no excuse. I told you I have an uncle in the army, too. He's got two sons. I never have seen him laying hand on any of them."

"Then they are lucky." Ryan muttered. "Do you have a spare toothbrush?" He softly pushed her hand away and got up, still shaking, but regaining his composure. "Though I think I should probably leave."

Nicole remained sitting on the floor, "You don't have to. Please, don't feel like I think any less of you."

Ryan shook his head, "I won't. It's just…" He shrugged, "When I was waking up at Mame's this morning… she suggested that we take a shower. Together, you know?"

She grinned, "I know, yeah."

He had to smile too, but it was a bitter smile, "And the only thing I was thinking was that if she saw my back, she would be totally repulsed and throw me out of her flat butt naked."

Nicole got up, "I'm sure she wouldn't. You might be surprised about it, but most of us girls don't mind scars."

"You're only saying that because I told you I have some."

"No, I don't. If I was that nice, I would have never commented on your orange shirts, remember. What I'm saying is true. Us girls are always looking for men that can protect us, that will fight for us, that don't cry if they've broken a fingernail… You know. A scar doesn't bother us."

"You're talking about a scar. I'm talking about fucking Guernica. Do you have a spare toothbrush now?"

She motioned to the cupboard, "Take one there. Look, I know I cannot convince you that I am right. What I can say is that if you were my man, I wouldn't mind."

"That's what you say now. Kinda easy to say that when you have a boyfriend and there's no chance of us ever hooking up."

She sighed, "True. I could of course drag you to my bed, bind you there, strip you and give you a night you won't forget, but that would be kinda unfair to Michael."

Ryan couldn't help but smiling again, "You have a way of cheering people up… I almost believe you."

"The other possibility would be that we have a quickie in the shower. You should really change. You're completely soaked."

"Which would not be unfair to Travers?"

She gave him her brightest grin. "I'll go get you something to change into."

"I could also just shower at my place?"

"I know. But I figured, since you just threw up the cheese sandwich, you might wanna stay a bit longer. We could order some pizza."

"That's really lovely, but I'd rather be alone now…" He sighed, "That was hard. Really hard. I need some time to… Is that your phone ringing?"

"No…"

"It's When I grow up. (1) If you don't have a magic Ipod, this is your phone."

She rolled her eyes on him and took the phone from her pocket. "Yes, Ferguson? Not really, where's Tripp? Had a cheese sandwich too? Yeah, okay, I'll be there. Where? I see... No, I'm not in the mood for laughing. See you there, Natty." She hung up. "I gotta go. DB on a construction site. I refrain myself from making any jokes on the Frisco Quake.(2)"

Ryan hesitated but then said, "I'm going with you."

"You can't. Look at you. You're a mess. You can stay here until you feel better…"

"Save it. I'm going. Can I use your shower? It won't take long."

"Sure. You know where you can find the towels?"

"Yah, I remember." He gave her a look. "You're leaving, right? The quickie was a joke, yeah?"

She smiled, "Believe me, if I wasn't that faithful to my beloved Travers, you wouldn't get out of this one."

Ryan gave her a smile and then suddenly pulled her into a hug. "Thank you. For everything. It felt good talking about it."

She remained in his arms for a few seconds, then softly pushed him away, "I… I should leave. I just want you to know that if anything, I think even higher of you now. And no scar can be ugly enough to stop me from thinking you're a hot shot." She grinned, "Did she shim and shake?" (2)

"Leave. Now."

(1) When I grow up – The Pussycat Dolls

(2) Verse 3 of Put the Blame on Mame

Yeah, he told her. A nice friendshippy moment. But I can't let Ryan be happy, can I? Well, at least now the pressure is gone.

Again, celebrate yourself. Not only on your b'days, but everyday!