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To Love This Broken Man	By : sissouthernink1994 Category: 1 through F > Criminal Minds Views: 2040 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Work of fiction. I don't own CSI: NY or Criminal Minds. All fun, no profit.

Chapter List
- 1-To Love This Broken Man
- 1
To Love This Broken Man
Warning: Rated T for language and situation. This fic contains memories of sexual abuse, non-con (rape) and major angst. It is also an established slash m/m. In my world, SSA Derek Morgan and CSI Dr. Sheldon Hawkes are in a relationship. If you don’t like to read anything that preceded this sentence, please don’t read. You won’t offend.
A/N: The idea for this fic came from watching the Nov. 5, 2010 and Nov. 12, 2010 broadcasts of the Oprah Show. Let me fill you in. Before the 11/5 show, Director/Writer/Actor Tyler Perry admitted that he had been molested as a child by trusted family friends. On Nov. 5, Oprah had 200 men in her audience who admitted that they had been molested, most by people they trusted. On 11/12, she had those men, their families, wives, girlfriends and partners back on the show to describe how they live with it. If you are a Criminal Minds fan then you know what happened to Derek as an adolescent. If you haven’t seen it, I believe the episode is “Profiler, Profiled”.
So, after watching these Oprah shows, I said a personal prayer. I prayed to God that if the man He had chosen to be my mate had gone through this that I would have the courage and ability to help him. This is a one shot.

Sheldon’s POV
                In my line of work, I meet so many people. Half of them are dead, victims of a crime. The other half are their remaining friends and family. I’ve been taught to give words of comfort and sorrow as part of the job. It started while I was a surgeon. There’s no way to sugar coat bad news, you know? As a CSI was taught to say, “I’m sorry for your loss.” I wonder how many officers really mean it. I don’t get to check up much on those who remain, but I’ve often wondered how they cope. I want to know how they deal with what has happened to their loved one or to them.
                The cases of those who have been raped or molested are tough to work; even harder when they involve children. I’ve read that many develop coping mechanisms, some not always healthy. They are broken but functioning. Derek built walls. Big, tall, wide, thick, super-heavy brick walls. He wasn’t about to break them down, let anyone else try to or even let anyone behind them. Trust was no longer an easy task. Those that truly love and care for him, he doesn’t shy away from them. But those people who look like that are out to hurt him or others, well, there’s a 10 ft. pole for them.
                When I first laid eyes on him, I thought he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. Shining white teeth, muscles everywhere. Literally tall, dark (not too dark), and handsome. I loved his low haircut; it was clean and neat. His brawn and intelligence could be detected without him saying much. His outside appearance spoke of a knowledgeable gentleman, well put together and prepared for the task at hand. His inside appearance was broken.
                At dinner on our first date, he told me what had happened to him. My heart ached for this beautiful creature. No one deserves to have their innocence taken from them by anyone, let alone someone who is supposed to care and help. If his team had not been called to Chicago, no one would have ever known his secret. He wasn’t going to even tell his mother. I can’t imagine going through life with this monstrosity of a memory covering and clouding some of the most important areas of his life. We found so many things in common and the mutual attraction drew us closer. As it did, I wondered would I ever be able to love this broken man. Could I love him to the point that he wouldn’t need the walls? Could I love him to the point that he could trust someone- mainly a man- intimately again? Was I brave enough? Was I strong enough? Would he even let me try? I wanted to love him; I wanted him to be able to trust me. I wanted him to break down the walls. But I had to wait until he felt he could. Thank God for patience.
Derek's POV
                Sheldon, Sheldon, Sheldon. He’s my hero, my lover, and my gentleman all in one. I was awestruck at his appearance when we met. Soft brown eyes that made me melt, strong but gentle hands, a graceful and sexy walk. His voice was as sooth as his skin, flawless and tempting. That smile sent ripples to the core of me. He’s a Doctor and a CSI, but when he said that he still wanted to pursue a relationship, after what I’d told him, I think I was his from that moment on.
                I would soon find out that the awestruck feeling I felt when we first met, would come again and again. I finally felt comfortable enough with him to tell him what happened to me as a young boy and teen. I can’t lie, I was scared as hell. Anytime I talk about any of the things that happened to me, I get the shakes. My hands sweat, my insides feel like they are either are going to leave by body either in the form of vomit or loose bowels. I was so angry, hurt…, and afraid.
I know Carl Buford can’t hurt me…but it’s just…*sigh* I told him about the very first time it happened; I needed him to know every single detail. I cried in front of him. My tears didn’t just stream down, I sobbed. For the first time in a long time, it felt like it was happening all over again. I was a wreck, a total wreck. When I looked up through my tears, I didn’t expect to see what I saw; tears in Sheldon’s eyes and open arms. He was there to hold and comfort me like no other man in my life ever could. Not even Spencer and his degrees. Sheldon didn’t give me looks of pity or disgust; they were looks of concern. And dare I say it…love? I wondered how he was going to help me get rid of my walls that I built up. I don’t know how he did it, but he did.
After all the years of therapy and trying to get over it, I discovered that what I thought was a scar was still an open wound. I was still broken. Time is supposed to heal all that, right? But it didn’t; the Band-Aid I had on it just seemed to adapt to the wound. Sheldon helped me to realize that those walls I had so carefully built to keep others out was in a way keeping Buford in. Wow, what a revelation! I was never going to be completely rid of the pain as long as I had walls reminding me. The walls will always let me know they were there for a reason. And as long as they exist, I’m in a prison. I’m not free. I’m not free to receive or give love completely.
I looked at my life; I’ve always been the Alpha Male. I always have to be in charge, I always have to be the dominant one; I feel I can’t exist any other way. Sheldon held me in his arms and whispered that I needed to let it go. He was right. I needed to let go. Let go of the need to be in control, the need to protect, the need to take charge. It’s what I needed to do in order to be healed. I nodded in agreement. Sheldon kissed me and then it hit me like a truck. He really could help me. “You’re a doctor; you can help heal me.” I whispered. “Tonight, you can help fix me. Tonight.” Sheldon wasn’t sure what I meant. We had been a couple for about three months but have never made love. Not because we weren’t attracted to each other, not because we didn’t feel the urges, because we did. He wanted to make sure I was ready to be loved the way I wanted. And in all of my relationships, I was always on top, always in control. I needed someone to be in charge of me. I needed it. As a teen, I was made to feel weak and dominated and it led me to live my adult life as someone who would never be vulnerable and weak again. But in order to knock down the walls, I would have to be vulnerable. Not because someone made me feel that way, but because I needed to know that I could allow myself to feel that way with the right person.
Everyone has to have someone they can be vulnerable around; I never allowed myself the luxury of having someone be there for me. I was almost begging Sheldon to take me and make me his lover. Begging him to make the bad memories and failed relationships go away. He could make the hurt go away. With his surgical knowledge he could heal me; his caring needles and threads of love could put my heart, even my life back together.
I was so nervous; I had never been this exposed before. My emotions had never been this displayed before. Each kiss from his lips and caress from his hands helped me to know my worth. Sheldon worshipped my body as if I were a priceless work of art. And he kept telling me so. I immediately imagined a wrecking ball swinging through.
“You are strong and beautiful.”
*BAM!*
Dust began to fly as it hit the wall.
“You are worthy of love.”
*BAM! BAM!*
Some of the bricks were dislodged.
“You deserve the best.”
*BAM!*
Bricks were knocked out of place.
“You deserve respect.”
*CRASH!*
Bricks began to fall.
“You are priceless.”
*CRASH!!*
More bricks are falling.
“Baby let me help you break down the walls.”
His whispered words gave me courage. I was standing there with a sledgehammer, Buford’s voice echoing in my head. Every time I heard it, I felt worthless, invaluable and useless. My body is shaking from my tears. I faced him once, why can’t I let this go? Why can’t I face him again?
How dare he do this to me again?! Even from jail, he’s trying to stop me from being happy! Sheldon loves me and I want to love him.
LEAVE ME ALONE!!
Let me love him!
BUFORD!!! You fucking bastard!!
With all that I am, I take a swing. Iron meets brick and they fall.
Buford says, “If you tell anyone, absolutely anyone, I’ll make sure you go to jail!”
Sheldon says “I love you” and I take another swing.
Buford says, “You owe me everything. You don’t want to let your family down do you?”
Sheldon says, “You are so precious to me.” I swing left and then right. More bricks fall.
Buford says, “Stop crying and take it like a man!! You want to be a man don’t you?!!”
Sheldon says, “Let your emotions out baby.” I swing and hit bricks until I can’t swing anymore. Then the bulldozer starts. Each loving thrust knocks bricks into piles and fills me with love and hope. I hold on to Sheldon for dear life. Each word he whispers is overflowing with love and tenderness setting my body and heart on fire. Soon I see myself sitting behind the wheel of that bulldozer. I’m pushing the bricks into the piles. I’m the one moving off the cliff; I’m the one clearing the space for love. As soon as the space is clear, I see a broom sweeping away the rest of the dust. And Sheldon is there in his scrubs and surgical mask prepared for surgery.
                His patience is the bed and blankets surrounding me. His concern is the surgical light shining down so he can see properly. His kindness is my heart monitor. Care and gentleness are the needles doing the sewing. His tenderness, the sutures pulling the pieces of my heart back together. His love, the best medicine I could ever take.

Sheldon’s POV
                As I hold him in my arms, I know in my heart that he is beginning to heal. The tears he shed, his honesty in the details of those awful events proved that he was finally ready to knock down the walls. I needed him to know how special and beautiful he is. I needed him to know that he was more valuable that he could ever know. All that predator Buford ever wanted was to dominate those who needed his support. He never thought about the damage he caused. How careless! I can’t do anything for the men those other boys became, but I can for this one.
                Derek’s face is peaceful as he rests in my arms. His emotions were everywhere. His heartbeat under my hand is finally normal. I gently stroke his face and I realize that I have never been in love like this before. I’ve always given my all in every relationship I’ve been in; this one is no different. I feel so privileged that Derek trusted me enough to let me help him with this. It wasn’t easy for him to go through it and then to relive it. I didn’t know how I was going to love this broken man. The easiest way was with all my heart. He’s brave, strong, and courageous. And he finally has a scar.
Derek’s POV
                My hero, my lover, my gentleman. I love this man. No one ever had the patience to see me through this. Spencer and I were together for nearly four years and he just let me be. We were together when the Buford case came up. He tried his best, but he couldn’t help me with the walls. I guess he wasn’t supposed to. It was Sheldon. I look up at him.
“So Doc, am I gonna make it?” That gorgeous smile warms me all the way to my feet.
“Prognosis is most excellent. The wound is healing well. And you have a nice small scar that will fade a little.” He said as he caresses the spot over my heart.
“Good.” I say as I reach up to kiss him. “How blessed am I? I have my own personal Dr. Feel Good. I don’t need any pills; all I need is you. Thank you for my scar.” As he holds me close all I can think of is this…this broken man has truly found someone to love him. Moreover, he healed me and now I have a scar.

Scars remind us of where we’ve been but they don’t have to dictate where we’re going- SSA David Rossi from episode entitled “Slave of Duty.”
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To Love This Broken Man