Work Text:
Dead Man Walking
by BookwormDragon
Disclaimer: I do not own due South. Other people do. I make no money from writing this story. No copyright infringement is intended.
When young Benton pulled his sidearm and pointed it straight between his eyes, Gerard knew that he was going to die today. Here, on the gravel at the side of a highway, out in the middle of nowhere.
He could see it in the boy’s eyes. He was so like his Father, in so many ways, with his unwavering morals and his expectation that others would abide by the same code. But there was a difference. The elder Fraser had always been a big believer in the justice of the system, had always been reluctant to take the law into his own hands. Young Benton had none of that. Instead, he had the same underlying hardness, for lack of a better word, that Gerard had noticed in many of the young recruits from the more rugged territories. The farther away from civilization they had been raised, the more likely they were to have that undefinable knowledge that they could and would do what needed to be done, no matter what the cost. That same hardness that he could see in young Benton's eyes at this moment.
The boy knew his enemy - his betrayer - now, and he would do whatever was necessary to eliminate any further threat to himself or to his father’s memory. The fact that his father had once called Gerard a friend only made the betrayal that much more bitter to him. He wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger, to put a bullet into the brains of a man that he had once looked up too, just as soon as he had gotten all the information that he could from him. It was in the boy's nature to be relentless in the face of a challenge. Bob Fraser had been the same once, but age and experience had taught him when the odds were too high, when concession was the only sensible choice. Young Benton hadn't learned that lesson yet. He still believed that Justice would prevail, that good always won in the end.
In desperation, Gerard invoked the only thing he could think of – Robert Fraser’s unblemished memory. He knew how proud Bob had been of his service and his uniform, and he was sure that Benton knew it too. When he saw the flicker of uncertainty flash through the boy’s eyes, he nearly sagged with relief – he wouldn’t die today after all.