And again a new story. That's all for you guys, whose reviews make me happier than I can tell...

Warning: There's gonna be a lot of mutilated bodies, references to child abuse, torture and homosexuality in this story. That's why the high rating. If you are offended by any of those, you might not wanna read this, because I don't want any homophobic comments or anything.... This story is not gonna be slash between any main characters, so don't worry about that. Okay, that's it for the warning.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI Miami, nor do I own any of its characters. I only own my OC Nicole Ferguson. This story is set post 7.20, but before the season finale.

The title of this Fiction is an extract from Christina Aguilera's song "Mercy on me". I don't own the music ot the lyrics.

Now read and enjoy, and if you feel like it, please review.

Chapter 1: Not any better...

„Go to hell!!!!" Ryan screamed. The Russian punched him. Again and again and again. Ryan couldn't even take a breath between all those punches. And then, the Russian asked him if he would help. He said no. The Russian continued. He walked around the table and picked something up from it…

"No!! No, please not!!!!" Ryan screamed, opening his eyes. He was greeted with darkness. It took him a while to realize he wasn't in the Russians' hands anymore, but at home, in his bed. His erratic breathing calmed down after a few minutes, and he wiped the sweat off his forehead. His radio alarm told him it was 3 AM. He shook his head. 2 hours. He had slept for two hours only. And he knew from experience that even if he cuddled into his sheets again, he would not find sleep again this night. He sighed, got up and walked to his bathroom. 2 weeks… 2 weeks ago he had been tortured by the Russian. And during these two weeks, he had caught like… 3 hours sleep a night. If he had been lucky. There had also been nights he hadn't slept at all. Nobody had told him to see a shrink, so he hadn't done it. Right now, he wondered if his team mates even cared about his health and sanity. Delko had been told to see a shrink. But no one had even tried to tell Ryan to do. He shrugged. Well, he had gotten over some troubles in his life without help, he would do again. He turned the shower on and enjoyed the warm feeling of water on his body. The pain had almost faded, luckily. Okay, sometimes, when he did something exhausting, his ribs let him know that it was too early. The wound on his arm, where the Russian had driven his knife in, was healing slowly, but at least it had stopped bleeding everyday. It probably would have needed stitches, but now it was too late anyways. And the wound in his mouth? Ryan gurgled with camomile tea everyday, and it was healing. He hadn't thought of getting an implant so far. They were too expensive anyways. He knew it didn't really look good, a cop missing a tooth, but well, he had found out that if he didn't smile too brightly, no one would notice. And he had run out of reasons to smile anyways… He got out of the shower and looked at his face in the mirror. Four long years with Miami's Crime Lab, and not once he had had the feeling of being appreciated. Well, okay. Alexx Woods was the exception. But the rest… When he had taken the nail in his eye, people had asked him if he was fine. But why? Just because he could be damaging a case. Again, except for Alexx, who had been worried about his eye sight. And when he had had his problems with gambling? Again, when they had asked him afterwards about it, it had only been because, being an addict, his actions could be questioned when it came to court. No one had been worried about his mental state of health. They only cared about that he worked properly and wouldn't endanger anything they worked on. And now? They didn't ask him anything. They only talked to him about ongoing cases. They didn't ask how he felt. For them, he was only a traitor. A puppet on a Russian's string. He didn't know what Horatio had told them about that day 2 weeks ago. Had he told them that he had been tortured for 14 hours straight and had only caved in because they were threatening the life of a kid? Probably not, or else they would have understood him. If they weren't a bunch of cold hearted bastards. Of which he wasn't so sure anymore… He sighed, walked over to the kitchen and brewed himself a large pot of coffee. He would need it.

--

He was so glad when finally the first call came and he could leave his flat. Sitting at his kitchen table for hours and hours, staring into nothing didn't really help him getting over it. Okay, now he would have to be on a crime scene with people that hated him. But at least he could keep his mind off these terrible memories. The crime scene was in South Beach. Apparently exactly there. In the sand. Ryan got out of his Hummer, kit in his hand and walked to the beach. The smell of the sea failed to cover the smell of the vomit around their crime scene. Apparently, some patrols had been revolted by the DB next to which Dr Price had now unpacked her tools. Horatio and Delko were standing there, Calleigh took pictures. And then, he saw her. A bit apart from the rest of the team stood a tall, red haired woman. Nicole Ferguson. Her eyes were glued to the body in front of her. Ryan immediately felt a bit better. If no one of the team accepted him, Nicole Ferguson did. She had been the only one noticing something had been wrong when he hadn't answered his calls, and she had been the one caring for him, helping him slow down the case, and not once saying he did something wrong.

He walked over to her, not taking notice of any of his team mates, "I thought you had a week off?"

She raised her head, "Ryan. Glad to see you. Yes, I had a week off. Had. But apparently, the city goes down when I'm not around, so after two days, they already called me back, and as a welcome present, I got a mutilated youth." She pointed at the body in front of her. It was male, about 17 years old, of African-American descent, and naked. And missing some vital organs.

Ryan grimaced, "I hope he was already dead when they… took it off…"

Nicole nodded, "But, judging from all the blood around the wound… He may have been pretty much alive…"

Ryan grinned, "You should think of transfer from field to the lab."

"No way. Don't wanna work with these two…" She discretely pointed at Delko and Calleigh. "I had them in front of me at a red light. I could see them kissing, and snogging, and touching each other…"

"Okay, I get the point. But you could be spending time with Travers and Valera."

Now it was Nicole grinning, "I think some people think I already spend too much time with Valera…" She looked at the body again, "What would you guess is cause of death?"

Ryan shrugged, "Probably the blood loss. But let's wait for Tara…"

"And she'll tell you after the autopsy…." Tara muttered without looking away from her victim.

Ryan only nodded and walked to the crime scene tape, Nicole following him. When they were out of ear shot from the others, he asked, "Do you know what the others have found?"

"Who, Romeo and Juliet? Nothing so far. Why don't you ask them?"

Ryan sighed, "Who knows if they would tell me anything… Don't know how often you've been at HQ, but since… well, you know what, they hate me even more than before…"

"Didn't you tell them why you did it?"

Ryan shook his head, "They wouldn't understand. Told you so."

Nicole nodded, "Probably, yeah." Then she looked at Ryan, "How about you? You're getting over it?"

"Slowly, but yeah, I'm fine…" It was a lie. But Nicole had done so much for him already; it didn't seem fair to bother her with his problems.

But Nicole seemed to nevertheless get he was lying. But she didn't push. "Well, I guess you should just go, get his ID and then you and I go and tell his family he's dead."

---

But since the victim had no ID on his, they had to wait for Valera to give them his name. Luckily, his name was in the database. "Cody Smith."

"He is in the system?" Ryan asked.

"He filled in a report three years ago, 20th March 2006. Somebody beat him up. A… Jack Hannigan." Valera answered and printed the data on both out. Ryan took the sheet on Smith. "He was 19…"

Nicole glanced at the sheet, "We have an address?"

"Yeah. But I want to check in with Tara first before we go see the parents. You're okay with that?"

"Sure…"

---

Tara and Kyle were just washing their victim when Nicole and Ryan arrived.

Nicole grinned when she saw Kyle, "Hey Shorty. You're a bit pale…"

Kyle nodded, "That's something girls will never understand… This had to hurt… I mean, he should be caressed. Not cut off…"

"And you shouldn't even think of penises." Nicole patted Kyle on the shoulder, "But don't worry, most women won't cut it off. You have already something on the COD?"

Tara raised her head, "Sweetie, I know it's urgent, but I'm not a magician…"

"Come, on, some hint…"

Tara sighed, but she did as asked. "Well, for now, I can say, not shot, not stabbed…" She looked into his eyes, "not strangulated or suffocated…" She thought about it. "The rest, I can only tell you after I've finished completely. Did you already tell the parents?"

Ryan shook his head, "Not yet, no."

"Good. Because I saw something I think you should know before you go there… Come Kyle, help me turn him around…" Kyle did as he was asked, and a second later, their victim was lying face down on the stretcher. Tara motioned to Kyle to give her a lamp. He did, and she pointed it at the back of the victim.

Ryan and Nicole didn't say a word. Long scars were crisscrossing the back of their victim. Ryan didn't have to ask what had made these scars. He knew. His own back looked almost the same. "I guess I call a judge for a warrant before we go there…"