Title: In the Line of Duty
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Ryan Wolfe
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/CSI: Miami
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Spoilers for the S4 CSI: Miami episodes "Nailed" and "Wolfe in Sheep's Clothing."
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Ryan Wolfe, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Ryan sat up in bed, one hand covering his right eye, gasping for breath. It took him a few moments to realize where he was -- and that he wasn't alone. Greg was sleeping beside him, his lean body pressed close against Ryan's, arms around his waist.

He'd startled Greg when he sat up; the other man propped himself up on one elbow, then sat up and slid his arms around Ryan's waist to pull him close, nuzzling his cheek against Ryan's shoulder and whispering soft words that he could barely hear.

"Ry .... hey, babe, it's okay .... what happened?" Greg's soft voice penetrated through the fog or memory that seemed to surround him; he could swear that he was back in that trailer, lying on the floor with a huge nail protruding from his eye.

It was happening all over again; he could still feel the searing pain that he thought would kill him, the burning in his eye that had seemed to spread over his face. He was going to go into shock; his hand was covered with blood, and he was sure that he'd never see again.

With a soft sob, Ryan buried his face against Greg's shoulder, sliding his arms around his boyfriend's slim waist and holding onto Greg. That was only a memory; it was far in the past, it had happened a few years ago. He was all right now; his vision was fine. He hadn't lost his eye.

But the memory could still come back to haunt him, along with the memory of the pain and fear he'd had to suffer through. He could still remember every second of it, as though it had only taken place yesterday. His emotions were still dangerously close to the surface.

Ryan gulped in one deep breath, then another. Gradually, the memory faded into the back of his mind, taking its proper place and not seeming as though it had only just happened. He wasn't back there in the past; he was here, starting a new life in Las Vegas with the man he loved.

Greg was holding him, one hand moving up and down his back, stroking his bare skin. He was here, safe in Greg's arms. He wasn't lying on a cold tile floor, praying that someone would find him and get him to the hospital to get the nail removed from his eye.

"It was the dream about the nail gun again, wasn't it?" Greg asked, his tone quiet. "You've been having that one more and more lately, Ryan. Don't you think you should talk about it to a shrink? Or at least to some person who's qualified to help you deal with the trauma?"

Ryan shook his head firmly, rejecting the idea. "I didn't talk to a shrink when it happened, and I don't need one now," he said, pulling away from Greg slightly to look his boyfriend in the eye. "I'll be okay, Greg. It's just a bad dream. They happen once in a while."

"But more often lately," Greg reminded him with a frown. "Ryan, maybe you should have talked to a shrink when this happened. It might help now. It's mandatory to talk to a doctor when you're injured like that in the line of duty. I'm surprised your team didn't make you do it."

"They tried," Ryan mumbled, not wanting to admit to his lover that he hadn't done what he now realized would have been the best thing for himself. "I wouldn't do it. I told them I was fine, and I didn't tell them about any of the nightmares I had. I thought it would stop eventually."

"But it hasn't," Greg said softly, resting his cheek against Ryan's hair. "And it's not going to unless you do talk to somebody. I don't count, because I can't do anything but listen and be here for you. But I'm not going to force you into seeing a shrink if you don't want to."

"What good could it do me now?" Ryan asked with a sigh, shaking his head. "It's in the past, Greg. Just like being kidnapped by the Russian mob and having my tooth yanked out, and being kidnapped by the Cuban mob and raped with a gun is in my past."

"And just like being raped by a psychotic murderer is in mine," Greg said quietly, his arms tightening around Ryan's waist. "We've both got dark pasts, Ryan. But we've been pushing that darkness back by being together. I don't want to let it creep back again."

"That darkness is always going to be a part of both of us, baby," Ryan told him, gently disentangling himself from Greg's embrace and pulling back a little, then raising his hands to cup Greg's face and stare into his dark eyes. "It's part of who we both are."

"That doesn't mean that we shouldn't talk to people about what happened to us. Both of us," Greg told him, taking a deep breath before he spoke again. "I think it might be a good idea for me to talk to a shrink, too. I probably should have done that years ago."

"Keeping what that bastard did to you bottled up inside didn't make things any better," Ryan agreed, slipping his arms around Greg's waist again to pull him close. "And if you want me to, then I'll go with you. It might be easier to talk to them if I'm there."

"I don't think they'll let you be there," Greg said softly, resting his head on Ryan's shoulder. "Just like I doubt they'd let me come to your sessions. But you need to talk to somebody about what happened to you, Ryan. You need to come to terms with all of it."

"I guess I just haven't wanted to do that because it all happened in the line of duty," Ryan admitted, moving a hand down his boyfriend's bare back. "But when the Russian mob kidnapped me, I couldn't tell anybody. When I finally told Horatio, he didn't even ask me if I was okay."

"And nobody else knew," Greg whispered, his voice trembling a little. "How could you keep that inside, Ryan? You needed help. You should have been given the choice to get it. Horatio should have at least done that much for you, as his colleague."

"I don't know if I'd have let him," Ryan admitted, shaking his head. "I had way too much pride back then, Greg. And I didn't want anybody else to know what had happened to me. I took a beating, but at the time, it didn't seem too much in exchange for that little boy's life."

"And the incident with the nail gun -- they shouldn't have expected you to be back at work within a couple of weeks," Greg said, sounding outraged. "You could have lost your eyesight! Everything you went through because of that is their fault, not yours."

"No, baby, it isn't," Ryan murmured, not wanting Greg to go down that road. "I went into that trailer with no backup, and without taking my weapon out. It was my fault. I wasn't careful enough with my own safety, and I paid the price for being stupid."

"I don't think you're going to be able to put that behind you until you talk it out," Greg said softly, running a gentle hand through Ryan's close-cropped hair. "I'm not going to force you into it, babe. But I think you'd feel better if you let those emotions out to someone who can help you."

"How do you know that a shrink can help me?" Ryan asked, shaking his head. "I've talked to them before, Greg. Not about these things, but about my gambling problems. And they didn't help. They just told me what anybody would. To resist temptation."

"That's something completely different," Greg admitted, his tone uncertain. "But we'll deal with that if it starts being a problem, Ryan. Together, you and I can deal with anything. Just don't shut me out. I'm here for you, whenever you need me, every step of the way."

"I know you are, baby." Ryan's arms tightened around Greg's waist, pulling the other man closer against the warmth of his body. "How did you get so smart?" he whispered, nibbling at his boyfriend's earlobe. "And how did I get lucky enough to find you?"

"I think fate just played into our hands," Greg replied, snuggling closer against Ryan and wrapping his arms around his lover's neck. He sank back down onto the pillows, bringing Ryan along with him until they were again lying side by side.

"I'll talk to someone, if you really think it would help," Ryan murmured, reaching out to stroke gentle fingers down Greg's smooth cheek. "But I think you should talk to somebody, too. And I don't think we need to tell anyone at work about it. Our personal lives are private, after all."

"Unless we're dating someone we work with," Greg answered, his tone bitter. "We're not allowed to do that, remember?" He sighed, shaking his head and leaning against Ryan. "I'm sorry. We've got enough to think about without me bringing that up."

"It's okay, baby," Ryan soothed him, wrapping his arms more tightly around Greg's waist and moving closer to him under the covers. "That's on my mind a lot, too. When I'm not dreaming about taking one in the eye from a psycho bitch with a nail gun."

"Well, that's never going to happen again," Greg told him, his voice soft and husky. "Not with me watching your back. I'll protect you from any psychos, in the line of duty or away from it. Nobody's going to hurt you ever again. Not on my watch."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Ryan whispered, closing his eyes and trying to let his body relax. It would take a while for him to fall asleep again, but having Greg here in his arms and feeling safe and protected would go a long way towards lulling him back into slumber.

***