This is for a non-challenge/challenge sent to me by Mary Ann. She didn't like poor Ray hurt of being killed off-can't say that I blame her-if I had known The Stella would turn out that way I never would have written it. I missed Ray too, sniff sniff, so I decided to bring him back. Let's see how it goes shall we?
 Rated NC-17 for language, H/C and M/M relationship.

By Amethyst
 

         The incessant beeping was staring to annoy the hell out of him and he just wished it would stop...and could somebody please turn on the lights here-what was the deal? Darkness and that constant beeping, it was enough to drive someone to drink. Suddenly, he wondered if he drank? If he did what sort of liquor did he prefer? Since he drank he probably smoked to, although he couldn't dredge up what a cigarette might taste like, even with his mouth as dry as cotton-which he supposed could taste like a cigarette. That voice? Where had that soft familiar voice gone? He'd heard it over and over for as long as he could remember, even if he couldn't make out what it was saying, it was comforting to him and he wanted it back. And smells, there were so many unfamiliar smells, nothing seemed right, nothing fit. The strong disinfectant odor that he was surrounded by was only diluted when the voice came, then he smelled some kind of musk and perhaps soap? Yes, it was most definitely the clean smell of soap.
         He was tired of the darkness, tired of the noises he couldn't define and he wanted to get up and move around, but it seemed he had no moveable parts attached. Everything felt laden as though pressed down by sandbags into the relatively soft surface beneath him. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. If he could, where would he go? Did he live here-was this his home-or was he simply visiting? Why did he feel so empty-why couldn't he know the things everyone should know about themselves? The one word the comforting voice had repeated over and over sounded like Day or Say or...Ray? Yes! It must be Ray. Was that his name? Did this voice know him? Could it help him remember?
          Oh! If only he could see! He wanted to see who the voice that soothed him belonged to, what the person looked like. He sighed as another small thought hit him, really hit him-like a blow to the stomach. It was a blow to the stomach! Not a real one, for he felt nothing but he could almost see someone being assaulted. It was a woman, tall, blond, quite pretty if you like that type, a little prissy looking, but nice enough all the same. She was swinging something at this other man that he couldn't quite see, what was it? He couldn't make it out-but from the impact it probably hurt like hell. I wonder what set the blond off? And why was this blond...yes, he could see now it was a tall blond man with angular features, shadowed slightly so that they were difficult to form a complete  view of his face His hair was...well, different to say the least. The woman was hitting him-but why was she doing that? Had he witnessed a violent act or a murder and somehow blocked out the tragedy? Was that why they had put him in this room with no light only a small bit of sound and restricted movement?
         Another face flashed before his eyes-but it was too quick to get a good look at more than a shockingly black crop of hair. He wondered whom it was that he was remembering, but he hadn't seen the person's face so it was a mystery. He sighed, this was boring! He wanted to get up and move around and see what was going on and have a cup of...coffee? Yes-he liked coffee; most definitely he did-he could feel his taste buds water at the thought of the caffeine-ridden drink. Why wouldn't anyone tell him what was going on? Offer him a cup of coffee or sandwich-that was only polite right? Polite...why did that word sound so...familiar? Oh well, looked like it was going to be another long day of nothing-guess he'd settle down and wait for his voice...the voice of reason and security, to return to him.

         "Ray?" came that voice years later it seemed. What? What is it? Where are you? Answer me damnit! "Ray!" The voice was adamant now, even excited. "Oh Ray you're awake!"
        I am? Then why the hell can't I see? The man's voice...yes it was definitely a man's voice and it seemed on the verge of tears as he started calling for someone to come quick. Great! Are we gonna have a party? Can somebody turn on the lights please? Hey! Maybe it was a surprise party-is it my birthday or something? Why is that song going around in my head? Wasn't that a party? Coulda been the wisky-mighta been the gin...coulda been the three or four six packs I don't know but look at the mess I'm in...hmmmm hmmmm. OW! Yah-I must have a hangover; my head's throbbing like a jackhammer. Okay-don't think so hard, obviously thinking hurt, so gotta stop doing that.
          Suddenly a warm hand enveloped his, as someone else seemed to be prying at his eyelids, mouth and chin. Do you mind? I mean really! How rude-did I ask you to put your paws on me-no I do not think so. Now, the person holding my hand, well that was okay- rather nice, thank you kindly. Thank you kindly! What kinda phrase was that? Where had it come from, who said that? Well, I guess my eyes are open because I can feel myself blinking, and watering thanks to Mr. Rude fingers, but why can't I see? Am I blind? Have I always been blind and just not noticed it? Well-that's just silly, Ray- a little voice inside my head commented-how could you not notice you were blind? But I don't remember buddy...buddy? Was this voice in my head belonging to a friend of mine-someone I couldn't remember either? That sucks! Do I have amn...anm..that thingy where you can't remember? I must-either that or I'm a few logs short of a forest. Will someone please turn that  damned beeping off or do I have'ta kick somebody in da head?
         "Detective Vecchio?" a woman's voice sounded. "Detective Vecchio can you hear me?" Well, if he can't sweetheart I can-ya sound pretty hot there too. "Detective Vecchio do you know where you are?" Well-obviously I don't ya dumb broad I got amni... anim...I don't remember-didn't they tell you?
         "Ray?" There was that voice again. That had to be his name, the way the stranger was saying it sounded very...affectionate. "Ray can you answer the nurse? Can you respond to us in some way?" Sure-buddy-I'll just do a few cartwheels across the floor, maybe a back flip or two. Do I look like I can respond ya moron? If I could don't you think I would?  I really shouldn't be yelling, especially since it really makes my headache worse. Calm down...that's it much better. Hmmm, how about I blink? I know they work. Blink. Blink. Blink. Hey! I did that pretty well if I do say so.
         "Detective Vecchio, blink once for yes and twice for no." The woman's voice came again. Who's this Vecchio person? I thought my name was Ray? Damnit-don't confuse me, talk about kicking a guy when he's down. Detective...is that like a cop or something? Am I a cop too? Hey! That's it! Maybe I was caught in this really intense shootout and I saved this damsel in distress from certain death or something. Maybe I got wounded and that's why I'm here and can't remember because it was probably really bloody and most everyone ended up dining with Mort and...what's a Mort?
         "Ray can you blink once for yes and twice for no?" My favorite voice asked and so I blinked once, that was easy-no problem. I could hear the relief in his voice as he quietly said. "Thank you." Yer welcome -whatever ya need I gotch'yer back, buddy.  "Ray can you see?" The woman finally caught on and was using my name-yah, pay attention here people. Two blinks. "Ray can you move anything other than your eyes?" Hmm...that's a good question-let's see. Legs? Nope- they're there, I can feel 'em just can't lift em. Um...arms? Nope. Hands? Hey! I think I just twitched my wrist a little, even managed to squeeze this other fella's hand-pretty good!
         "He squeezed my hand." I heard him tell the woman, the gratitude in his voice was amazingly prominent-gee he must be glad I'm okay-he had to be my buddy, because only buddies cared if you lived or died. "Can you speak Ray?" He asked me and I think I glared at him, or at least looked in that general direction. Well, I tried to anyway-but it doesn't work quite as well, when you can't see or move your head. I thought I was speaking-guess it's all in my head-now that is a scary thought. Okay-let's try this, somewhere in this fuzzy arena of pain are my lips...ah! There they are. Open close. Open close, yep they work. Now, the hard part, forming my tongue the way I need to for sound. Gee, this is harder than I thought, probably because I'm so thirsty, my tongue feels kinda disconnected.
         "Thirsty." I managed, then almost smiled, pleased with myself and hoping they heard me. Something cool was immediately pressed to my lips and I felt a delightful trail of cold water work its way down my throat. Arg~! Hard to swallow, not so fast. There, better-okay I'm good, thanks. I closed my mouth and the water was taken away again.  I sighed as I settled back in my prone position, the person's arms that had helped me rise enough to drink, seemed content to stay close, as he reclaimed my hand. That's nice-you're a nice fella, whoever you are. Think I'll sleep now, night.

         Here came another one of those dreams, where that woman was screaming at some poor sod for coming home late. Get off it bitch! Jeez-a man can't stop and have a couple of bears with the fellas without getting harped on? What was she saying? Lazy? Incompetent? Hey now-don't let her talk to you that way buddy, you give her what for. It's your life after all. That's it, you tell her, tell her she's being unreasonable and unfair. Yer allowed time to relax since you pay the bills. Shit! Duck man! Ouch! I bet that hurt, nothing like being hit in the side of the head with a woman's purse. Oh great, now she's throwing things...watch out for that book! Here comes her shoe. Was she nuts or what? What was her problem? It was just a couple of beers for Christ's sake. Just pop her fella, you'll only have to do it once, I guarantee. Aw...don't...don't let her do that? Well if you aren't going to fight back at least get away from her. There, that's it get your jacket and get the hell out.
 
        Woah! Am I awake? It's so hard to tell when you're blind. Yah- I'm awake, that machine is still doing its beeping thing. What's this? Oh, the nurse is here, changing the IV in my arm...what was her name again? Rachael I think. Hard to believe I've been awake...well, technically for three whole days now. Ben Fraser, the fellow that was here when I first officially woke said I had been in a coma for almost two months. That sucks, but I can only deal with it. I wish I could see, but the Doc said my eyesight should return eventually, so I wasn't blind before...well before when I could remember. Apparently I had been shot in the head-like that didn't hurt, glad I didn't remember it to be honest, but Ben Fraser wouldn't give me the details yet-guess he's afraid it will trigger something in my memory. But, that would be good wouldn't it? Oh well, guess I'd better pay attention the nurse is talking to me.
         "How are you feeling Ray?" I shrugged as she helped me sit up and adjusted my pillows.
         "Blind." I replied tonelessly. "And you?" I heard her sigh, guess she didn't care for sarcasm, oh well.
         "Time to eat." She stated cheerfully and I heard some plastic on metal being moved around and then the smell of something that could resemble food filled my nostrils. I felt her lift the fork to my lips and turned my face away.
         "Not hungry." I refused. She got her scolding tome out of her back pocket then.
         "Now, Ray- you have to eat." I refused to answer. "You can't sit here feeling sorry for yourself."
         "I'm not feeling sorry for myself." I protested indignantly, I simply didn't trust them. If I couldn't see what they were trying to feed me it was not going into my mouth-period. It smelled...odd. "Where's Ben Fraser?"
         "He'll be here later- he had to work today remember?" she explained and I smirked.
         "Well, now, if I could remember I wouldn't be here now would I?" I retorted.
         "Ray, be nice." I heard my buddy say from somewhere in front of me. Good, I didn't want to talk to Florence Nightingale here anyway. Ben Fraser was apparently my partner, and though I couldn't remember him, I felt comfortable talking to him.
         "They're trying to poison me, buddy." I informed and I swear I could almost see him grin.
         "They are not, Ray." He denied politely. "They simply wish you to get better." He said something to the nurse, couldn't make out what, then I heard her leave the room and Ben Fraser was by my side once again, immediately I felt better, safer. "They have given you a small skinless chicken breast, peas, potatoes and a pudding, Ray."
         "I'll have the pudding." I suggested easily, how could anyone screw up pudding. "What kind is it?"
         "Chocolate." Ben Fraser supplied and I heard him adjust himself to sit on the bed facing me. A second later the spoon was at my lips.
         "Do I like chocolate?" I asked him and again I could hear his smile.
         "You love chocolate Ray." He assured and I opened my mouth and accepting the sweet offering. I sensed he wouldn't lie to me, that was good, though strange to feel  so secure about someone I couldn't remember.
         "So-yer Canadian?" I asked, staring up the conversation, as I took another proffered spoonful. I could really feed myself if I tried, but my partner seemed to enjoy feeding me so what the hell. Oh well, to each his own right?
         "Yes, Ray. I first came to Chicago on the trail of my Father's killers..." Fraser repeated calmly.
         "Sorry about yer dad." I offered and he paused, startled.
         "Thank you, Ray."
         "Did I know him?"
         "No, you never met him, Ray."
         "Was he a cool Dad?" Another long, thoughtful pause followed.
         "He was what he was, Ray." Fraser finally answered.
         "Do I have a dad, Ben Fraser?" I heard him sigh even as I finished the question.
         "Ray-could you call me one or the other please." He asked, changing the subject,something he was good at. "It is disconcerting to be referred to with both names."
         "What do I usually call you?"
         "Fraser or Frase." He supplied easily.
         "But that's you're last name, right?" I asked confused.
         "Well, yes, it is, Ray."
         "I thought we were buddies, partners."
         "We are, Ray." He assured. "We are very good friends."
         "Then why don't I call you Ben?" I reasoned and he sighed again.
         "I don't know, Ray. Most people just call me Fraser, you being one of them."
         "You want me to call you Fraser?"
         "You may call me whatever you feel comfortable with, Ray." Fraser insisted. "Just one or the other please." I shrugged, okay I could deal with that, it felt right to call him Fraser somehow, but I liked calling him Ben too.
         "Do I have parents, Ben?" I repeated my earlier question, not letting him off the hook so easily.
         "Ray- the doctor wants to wait and see if your memory returns more before revealing any further information." Fraser's voice was scolding but gentle.
         "I want to know, Ben! Tell me, I'm going nuts here. Do I have parents? Do I have friends, a wife, kids, a dog...what?"
         "You do have parent's Ray." Fraser finally allowed, perhaps sensing I wasn't going to let the subject drop this time. "They are both living and you have a pet turtle. You live alone currently and you are a police officer, a very good police officer." Good, I smiled and leaned back against the pillows, that was something to put my mind on instead of all these damn questions.
         "What about a girlfriend, wife-significant other?" I asked. You know, it really sucks when you wake up blind from a coma and don't even know your sexual orientation. I'm pretty sure I'm heterosexual-but then again, I seem pretty close to my buddy Ben here, so who knows?
         "I think you should rest now, Ray." Fraser avoided and I heard him move the tray.
         "I just woke up!" I protested.
         "Yes," Fraser agreed. "But you will need time to recover from your ordeal and..." I was no longer listening, for another vision was sweeping over me.
        A man with wheat blond hair working hard not to cry in his bathroom as he stood over the sink and removed his shirt to uncover the black and blue marks around his torso. I can sense such shame, such anger in him and so much inner pain and conflict. What had happened to him? Had this man been in an accident? Suddenly the bathroom door opened and the woman with blond hair stepped forward-she seems to be haunting my dreams, wonder who she is? Her and this other fella, whom she wasn't very nice to apparently,  were people I knew or once knew at one point for them to be in my thoughts so often.
          Well, I had already started to refer to them as Samson and Delilah -don't know why but since I can't remember who they are it seemed to fit. Delilah was approaching Samson and he backed up from her slightly, before turning around again and reaching for his shirt. Delilah stepped closer and started to kiss the bruises on his skin, preventing him from pulling his shirt back on. She sobbed over and over how sorry she was, how she'd never do it again and soon Samson gave in and took her in his arms. Seems Samson was a pushover for a tearful lady. Their embrace turned passionate as they kissed hungrily, their hands all over one another. It wasn't long before Samson ended up taking Delilah right there, propped up on the bathroom sink, with her crying out in wild abandoned her love for him.
         "Ray?" Fraser asked and I think he may have said it more than once.
         "Yah?" I returned.
         "Are you okay?"
         "Sure."
         "You looked...thoughtful...far away." Fraser deduced and I shrugged. I wasn't ready to talk about the dreams and visions yet, I didn't have enough information to form a solid case and...Hmmm, guess I was a cop, sure seemed to be thinking like one.
         "Nah, just-y'know thinkin'." I returned and the Mountie seemed satisfied, for now.
 

         I heard my door open quietly, amazing how keen a guy's hearing becomes when he's unable to rely on his vision as an extra sense. I waited and turned my head toward the sound, struggling to sit up slightly. I had been asleep, but woke up a few minutes before, and now I wondered if I had visitors of if it was just the nurse again. I still hadn't been able to move my legs as of yet, I would start physical therapy later today. I could no longer feel them at all and I was more than a little scared at being blind and paralyzed. Like having amnesia wasn't bad enough!
         "Ray?" Fraser's warm voice greeted and I smiled, glad it was him.
         "Hey buddy." I returned just as warmly, but I sensed he wasn't alone. "Who ya got with ya, I smell perfume. Is she pretty?"
         "You're parents are here, Ray." Fraser informed encouragingly and I frowned, my parents? Oh yah, he did mention I had a set. "Is it alright for them to visit with you?" I shrugged, why not-maybe they'd trigger something.
         "I suppose." I replied nonchalant, trying not to show my fear. What were they like? What kind of a son was I to them? Did we get along? Would I remember them when they spoke? Suddenly I wished I could see even more, give me a glimpse at them, anything that might keep me from hurting them if I couldn't recognize their voices.
         "Stanley?" An older woman's voice asked rather close to me and I jumped a little, not expecting the proximity-I hadn't heard her move. Fraser had tried to explain that my real name was Stanley but I went by Ray and that I was undercover as Fraser's old partner, Ray Vecchio.
         "Um..hello...Mother." I returned confused. Suddenly I felt warm arms around me and I stiffened at her embrace. I'm not ready! I wanted to scream. I don't know you-don't touch me, but she was sobbing against me.
         "Oh Stanley!" she cried. "I knew you'd remember me, you're my Stanley." I didn't have the heart to tell her I didn't remember-that I was just trying to be polite, but she had almost a death grip on me, perhaps waiting for me to return the embrace.
         "Fraser." I pleaded, knowing he would understand, and a moment later Mrs. Kowalski was gently being pulled away from me. A man's voice was speaking now, gruff with emotion and tension.
         "He doesn't remember you Barbara." I turned toward his voice, something in it made me feel like a child again, a bad little boy for upsetting his mother. "Do you, son? You don't remember us, be honest now."
         "No." I told him quietly and immediately heard Mrs. Kowalski give a strangled cry of rejection. "I'm sorry."
         "The doctors say he should make a full recovery." Fraser offered helpfully, trying to lower the tension in the room between the Kowalski's and their son. "His memory may return fully in time."
         "Or he may not remember at all." Derek Kowalski stated, with a hint of disappointment and anger in tone. "What about his sight, or his legs? Will he walk or see again? Is he going to be an emotional and a physical cripple?"
         "Derek!" Barbara Kowalski exclaimed horrified.
         "Hey!" I protested. What was his problem? I'm still in the same room for Christ's sake-he needn't refer to me in the third person. "I'm blind not deaf and I'm not invisible either. You wanna know how I'm doin' ask me!"
         "He didn't mean it, Stanley." Mrs. Kowalski offered kindly patting my hand and I instinctually curled my fingers into hers-it felt right. Guess she was my Mother, whether I remembered her or not. The contact triggered another scene with the two blondes.
         They were laughing as Samson twirled Delilah around a ballroom. They were pretty good, even looked happy. He in a black tux and her in a long white lace trimmed gown. Was it their wedding day? It had to be, they seemed so happy. The faces around them blurred as they danced to the exotic beat of the music, but suddenly there was a glimpse of an older couple, standing proudly on the side watching them dance. Samson kissed Delilah, then broke the embrace and held out his hand to the older woman, who blushed prettily and stepped into his arms. They danced round and round, until the older woman was breathless and beaming, then Samson released her with a kiss on her cheek and accepted some more backslapping from the others around them.
         "Ray?" Fraser asked and again I suspected he had been trying to get my attention sooner. I shook the vision away and turned my head toward the sound of his voice.
         "What?" I asked.
         "Are you alright?"
         "Sure." I agreed, trying to dispel the sudden ache in my chest the daydream had left inside me. "Just tired."
         "We'll let you get some sleep." Mrs...my Mother announced decisively and she seemed determined to protect me-that was nice, comforting. I nodded, then bit my lip before speaking.
         "Sir...um...Father?" I didn't know what to call him, but I hoped he had not left while I was out of it. I was in luck he hadn't, though he seemed surprised when he spoke to me.
         "What is it Son?" There was a curious tenderness there I hadn't recognized earlier and it made me feel a little better-perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all to think of him as a Father figure. He was probably just upset.
         "I...um...I'm sorry I don't remember you, Sir." I offered, wishing more than anything-for some odd reason, that he would take that moment to place his arms around me and give me a comforting hug. He didn't though, just seemed to move further away from the bed.
         "You just get better." He encouraged gruffly as I tried to quell my disappointment. My Mother leaned down and kissed my cheek lovingly, careful not to crowd me again and I was grateful.
         "We'll be back by to visit you later, honey." She assured and I nodded.
         "Thanks Mum." I said without thinking. Where had that come from? Wasn't...didn't I call her Mother earlier? I shook my head again and lay back on my pillow, I was suddenly exhausted again. I barely heard Fraser return to sit beside me, picking up the book he had started reading to me yesterday and continuing the story.
 
 
 

         Ahhh!!! Bright...bright damned light! I blink a couple of times but I can't seem to see anything but a blinding swirl of white, yellow, silver and some unrecognizable color. Darkness was bad, but this was worse, much worse, my head is pounding my heart is in my throat and my eyes feel like they are going to squeeze out of their sockets. I feel a scream rise in my throat, just as the brightness starts to dull slightly and I see something big, fuzzy and red in front of me. Red! Red is a color! I can see! Well, actually, not really, it's still pretty fuzzy and seems to be getting blurrier the further it gets from me.
         "Frase!" I croak and the red blob turns toward me, coming closer again.
         "I thought you were asleep, Ray." Fraser informed quietly. "I was just..."
         "I can see!" I exclaimed, cutting off the rest of his words. "I can kinda see you! Yer wearin' red and..."I squint and make out something brown...no, tan colored in his hands, a hat? A strange looking hat, but it was a hat. My eyes rise, eager to put a face to the voice that had helped comfort me through these last months. I feel all the moisture vacate my mouth as I stare into deep, ocean blue eyes, a pale handsome...no beautiful face and a shocking covering of blue black hair.
         Suddenly a searing pain rips through my brain and my joy is momentarily interrupted by an agonizing series of flashes and moving pictures in my head. Oh sweet Jesus! Make it stop! I grip my head as a cry is torn from my parted lips. Oh God! So fast! Too fast...stop! I can't...can't  see, can't think...oh God! I barely hear Fraser's concerned exclamation as he grips me, but I struggle away from him. Don't touch me!  Can't...too much...Red! A red suit, no uniform...that face, Fraser's face...a crypt...a burning car...water! So much water! Surrounded by it, it's suffocating me...no, Fraser is there...I'm safe...Shit! I've been shot! No...I'm laughing...I had a vest...he called me Ray. Playing baseball...I'm playing...no I'm running...running through a graveyard? There is Fraser again. I'm on my knees, begging for his help. We're eating pizza...I'm crying and his hand is on my shoulder...he's placing metal around my wrist...why  is a knife! No! Fraser move! He'll...no.. spaghetti? Spaghetti on a camp fire? What?
        Another cry sounds and I realize they are coming from me and that someone is trying to stop my shaking and something warm and solid is holding me and then...then it's safe...I'm safe. I realize my face is wet as the darkness returns once more to claim me.

         I am awake before I open my eyes, but I can hear quiet voices, full of concern, speaking above me.
         "He said he was starting to regain his sight." I heard Fraser's distinctive voice, it held an odd catch it seemed, as though he may be close to crying but holding back. "I...I think he saw me and perhaps my face triggered some memories. He just became hysterical and cried out in pain. I...I didn't know what to do but hold him."
        There was a long pause and then another voice, I recognized as belonging to my doctor mumbled something I couldn't' make out..
        "Yes, alright." Fraser said again. "I will, thank you Doctor."  I heard  the door to my room open and close and the rustle of cloth as Fraser returned and arranged the covers tighter around me. I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid of another episode, but I had to see him, I had to. Slowly I opened one eye, faded colors, somewhat blurry but no pain. The second eye popped open and I realized I was in a dimly lit hospital room. I glanced around warily, glad to have my sight back, but afraid or the consequences it would bring. Not that I didn't want to remember, of course I did, but that last...well, it scared the shit out of me.
         "Ben?" I called out quietly, my throat hoarse with fear and sleep. "F...Fraser?" He appeared a moment later, wearing a pale blue plaid shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and a pair of jeans. How long had I been out? Obviously long enough for Fraser to have changed, but then he did keep a spare set of clothes here, I remember him telling me that before so he could spend more time with me at the hospital. He offered me a hesitant smile as he came closer.
         "I am here, Ray." He assured, perhaps he was also afraid of setting me off. I braced myself then made myself look him in the eye, waiting for the flashes to hit again, but this time there was just quiet recognition and I felt my eyes tear up instantly as I stared at my partner, my buddy and my best friend.
         "Oh Frase." I breathed shakily and he was beside me in an instant, holding me to him, enveloping me in his warmth, his own body trembled slightly. "I remember you buddy. I remember you." I could feel Fraser's relief without the Mountie having to say a word, he was trembling slightly and I was a little astounded to be affecting him so drastically. He always sounded so strong, so in control, and having looked at him, I knew that he was now -yet he seemed barely holding onto that rigid composure of his.
         "Oh Ray." He sighed finally moving back so he could sit on the bed and look at me. "I an glad. Do you remember anything else?" I thought for a moment, unable to stop staring at him, he was such a beautiful sight to see, though there were dark circles under his eyes and he looked more haggard than I remembered. It seemed he had also lost weight.
         "You look like hell, Fraser." I commented concerned. "What happened to you?" Fraser offered me a lopsided smile, his deep blue eyes glistening with unshed tears.
         "My best friend was shot, blinded and lost his memory, Ray." He returned in his usually passive voice. I grinned.
         "Sorry about that, buddy." I offered sheepishly, secretly pleased that he had been so worried about me, yet feeling guilty to have caused him such grief.
         "How much do you remember, Ray?" Fraser questioned in his curious but no nonsense tone.
         "I remember us, bein' partners." I replied after a moment. "Most of it anyway-dere are still...pieces missin'."
         "Do you remember who you are? You're parents?" I shook my head.
         "I..I know it's weird, " I reasoned. "But it's like, I only know me through what I remember of you-is dat weird?" I shook my head, knowing that made no sense, but Fraser seemed to understand anyway. "I don't remember my folks, my life before you, nothing really outside of some of our adventures. I still don't know my birthday or my folk's names or...anything personal."
         "But it's a start, Ray." Fraser offered kindly as the Doctor walked in. I glanced his way automatically and offered a hesitant smile at the gray haired gentleman.
         "Hey, Doc." I greeted and he beamed at me, before checking my vitals. The light he shined in my eyes hurt like hell, but only for a moment, I must be sensitive. He asked me a whole lot of questions, similar to what Fraser had asked, suggested I keep the light in my room low for awhile and give my eyes time to adjust to their new sensory imput.
         "Can I leave now?" I asked hopefully even though I had no idea where I would go. I just had to get out of this hospital, it was making me crazy. Did I have a place to live? Surely I did-maybe even a roommate or something?
         "How are you doing with therapy?" he countered and I grimaced.
         "I'm doin' okay with it...can't walk yet, but I can almost stand on these useless things." I assured wryly, indicating my legs. "I can still come in fer treatments, please let me get outta here."
         "I'll release you if..." He pointed a meaningful finger my way. "You have someone who will stay with you for awhile and you keep me informed of any further developments in your memory."
         "I...do I live alone or with someone, Fraser?" I asked the Mountie quickly.
         "You live alone." He informed calmly and I felt my heart sink-there went my chance to leave. "But I'll stay with him Doctor."
         "Great! Thanks Frase." I sighed gratefully, then to the doctor. "So-can I leave?"
         "Tomorrow." He promised and I groaned in defeat.
         "It is only one more day, Ray." Fraser offered kindly and I sighed.
         "I know I just...whatever." The doctor smiled, noted some things on my chart and left.

 
         I was dreaming again, she was there, the blond. Samson was with her, still his features seemed distorted, and they were at a party and someone was laughing at something the man had said. Delilah was glaring at him, but offered the people a polite smile, before taking his arm and moving him over toward the corner.
         "You are embarrassing me!" she stated angrily.
         "What did I say wrong?" he asked surprised, he'd tried to be on his best behavior, knowing this party was important to her.
         "You showed up late, dressed like a bum and now you're making lewd jokes."
         "I got held up at work and there's nothing wrong with what I'm wearin'. This is my best shirt." He defended brushing a piece of lint of the sharp looking white dress shirt. He'd even wore his good gray slacks and a tie for her, what more did she want? "Your friend's laughed at the joke too."
         "Of course they did, they were being polite you idiot." She fumed. "I specifically laid out your black suit to wear, why aren't you wearing it?"
         "Because I look like a dork in it!"
         "You certainly don't look any better in that ensemble. You look like a Chicago flatfoot from the lower slums." Samson bit down on his anger, knowing that if he caused a scene he'd really be in for it. He leaned closer to her and offered a sarcastic grin.
         "I am a Chicago flat foot, remember?" he stated. "I'm a cop, what do you want me to look like, a politician?"
         "At least then people would think you had some class." She muttered and his smile widened.
         "You're da classy one, I'm just pretty." He deflected and he saw her lips twitch.
         "Just watch what you say, okay?" she requested quietly, giving in to his charm. "These people are important and it could land me a promotion if we make a good impression."
         "I'll do my best." He promised.

         I woke with a start and glanced around the small, dim lit apartment, from my position on the sofa. Fraser was stretched out on the floor in his sleeping bag, his wolf Diefenbaker beside him. It was odd to have a wolf as your partner's friend and companion, but I was learning more and more that Ben Fraser was far from normal. Still, the animal made me feel safe, like Ben did, so it was okay to have him around. The days seemed to be passing at an alarming rate, I was getting better with my therapy, but I still had to use a wheelchair to get around, which really sucked big time. Fraser had arranged the apartment so I could maneuver the bulky chair better, and he knew where the dishes, linen, my clothes, my apparent collection of CD's were stored-even how much to feed the turtle-I remembered nothing of my time living here.
         The woman I now knew as Mother had been by a few times to help clean and what not. She had come the day before and left with a small bag of something she took from the apartment, but I didn't ask what it was. For some reason, I couldn't make myself sleep in the bedroom and only used the bathroom connected to it. I was sleeping on the sofa and Fraser had opted to sleep on the floor close to me, weird guy that Mountie. I couldn't explain why I couldn't sleep in what Fraser claimed was my bed, but he never questioned my decision, simply accepted it and made up the sofa each night for me to sleep.
         Now I had to go to the bathroom and I really hated to wake my dozing friend, so I threw my covers back and managed to pull myself into the hated chair. I glanced across to see if Ben was still asleep and had not awakened from my quiet struggle and uneven panting. Nope, still asleep, good. I maneuvered the chair over toward the bedroom, which had two double doors that connected it to the living area and now both stood wide, and managed to get to the bathroom. I had to leave the chair at the doorway, not enough room to fit through, but I could walk a few steps now and making it to the commode wasn't too difficult. I relieved myself and held onto the sink as I clumsily washed and dried my hands. Now the trip back, damn I was hurting now.
         Unfortunately, I couldn't seem to release my death grip on my sink, breathing heavily and sweating. I hated this, really hated it. I couldn't wait until I was walking without that stupid chair and I would too. I was determined to get completely better, despite the pain walking caused. The doctor said it was because of the nerves that had been damage by the bullet that had been imbedded in my brain. They said I had been lucky, that the angle of the shot prevented it from killing me, or from any further brain damage, as it had exited above my right ear. Any closer and I would have had it and the idea that I had come so close to death still gave me the shakes at times. No one would tell me anymore than that, like who shot me or why and I couldn't remember at all.
         My Lieutenant came to see me yesterday-I was surprised to remember him rather well, but I was disappointed that I couldn't remember the others with him, Francesca, Dewey and Hewy. The other detectives seemed okay, but that little brunette...WOW! I mean, she was really somethin'. A little chatty but what a babe, I really wished I could remember her. Fraser said she was my supposed to be my sister, but not my real sister, whew! What a relief-I'd go straight ta hell for the thoughts I had about her fer sure, if she was blood related. Fraser had explained that I was undercover as Ray Vecchio, Fraser's former partner...which was confusing enough when you couldn't remember who you were, let alone who you were pretendin' to be, but I tried to take it in stride.
         I sighed as I raised my eyes and stared at my reflection in the mirror for the first time, really looked at myself.  Why did I look so familiar? Where had I seen me before? Well, that sounded stupid and I couldn't help but grin at my foolishness just as words from the past surrounded me, words exchanged in this very apartment.
         "Ray, you've changed since we were married." She insisted. "You're become more
violent, especially with your suspects, and although you haven't assaulted anyone yet, you still might if you don't get some help."
         "I don't need help!" he declared. "I'm not like..." He broke off and stared at her, his
face turning ashen once more.
        "Like me." She finished quietly.
I gulped a deep breath... she was referring to Samson by my name and I was shocked as his features finally came into complete focus and I saw my own face reflected back. The beautiful blond that haunted my dreams was my wife, but where was she? Why couldn't I remember her? I was Stanley Kowalski, Ray Vecchio and Samson, the man from my dreams? Then who was the woman in my visions? Who was my Delilah? If she was my wife, where was she? Why did she treat me the way she did? What was her name? Did I love her? Did I have any children?
         "You should have hit me back, Ray." She insisted. "It would have ended it." Ray darted from the couch and began to pace again.
        "I could not hit ya back, Stella." He stated firmly.
        "You wanted to." She guessed quietly.
Stella? Her name was Stella? Had I been the abusive one? Was she right that I had somehow changed during our marriage?
         "Should I give you a taste for old times sake?" she declared, as her hand swung to slap him. She gasped as Ray caught her wrist and bent it back painfully, raising his own hand in a semi swing."
 No. Ray shook his head-he didn't want...he refused to hit her. He wouldn't hit her like she...she would hit him.
         "No more fights, Ray." She agreed.
         "I am sorry for hurting you, Ray." She whispered, kissing his chest affectionately.
        "I know ya are, Stella." He sighed,

         "Ray!" I glanced up at Fraser's appalled face, from my position on the floor-Shit! How'd I end up on the floor? He quickly knelt beside me, in his white T-shirt and jockey shorts, his hair rumpled from sleep.. "Are you hurt?" I shook my head sheepishly, as he pulled me into his strong arms and settled me back in my chair. I had to brace myself not to pull his head closer and kiss him-God, how sick was that? To be hot for your own partner, who trusted you?
         "I'm fine, Fraser." I muttered, angry at him, angry at myself, angry at the whole situation."
         "What were you doing?" He asked concerned. I glared at him and slapped the metal chair furiously. When we had left the hospital three days ago, I had hoped the return to the apartment Fraser claimed I rented would dredge up my memory-fill in the gaps-but it had had no effect on me whatsoever. Now, I was remembering things I couldn't understand and was a little afraid to admit to.
         "I had to go to the bathroom." I defended finally. "I...I know I promised to use this damned contraption until my legs were stronger, but it didn't seem so far a walk from there to here." I grimaced-in reality it was only a few feet, but it may as well have been miles when your legs didn't work properly and every movement you exerted caused severe pain. I didn't even have the energy to protest Fraser's picking me up, actually felt kinda nice. I'd been doing okay until time for the trip back, then when the memory hit I must have lost it-because I couldn't remember falling.
         "Ray," Fraser scolded. "You should have woke me, you couldn't wait?"
         "I didn't want to wait, Fraser." I insisted, wishing I could make him understand. "I thought I could do it myself, I should do it myself. You won't be around all the time to baby-sit me."
         "Ray I don't mind..." he began and I slapped the chair with my palm, ignoring the fact that it caused my hand to sting viciously.
         "I just...I'm tired of bein' an invalid, Ben." I exclaimed. "I'm tired of not rememberin' everything."
         "The doctor said you were doing remarkably well, Ray." Fraser intoned. "You're memory is returning, just slowly. You must be patient."
         "I don't got any patience left, buddy." I muttered. "I ain't good at waitin'." Fraser smiled a little and started to wheel me back to the living room.
         "I know, Ray." He admitted affectionately.
         "What if my memory never comes back?" I asked him, as helped me back onto the sofa and pulled the covers around me again, Diefenbaker settled beside me comfortingly. "How come I remember you and Welsh and bein' a cop, but not my folks or anything about me?"
         "I don't know, Ray." Fraser replied as he moved to the kitchen, perhaps to make some tea. "The human brain is a complex thing, your memory seems selective of what it wants you to remember. I could not ascertain why you remember some things and not others, accept perhaps it is bracing you, allowing you to remember the good things to prepare you for anything that may be...less appealing that you may recall afterwards."
         "Were my Mum and Dad a bad memory?" I asked, needing to know. "You're relationship with them had been...strained." Fraser offered as he puttered around the kitchen in domesticated bliss. "Would you like some tea?"
         "Coffee." I countered.
         "That will keep you awake, Ray." He reminded and I glared at him over the back of the sofa.
         "Coffee, Fraser." I insisted and he nodded. We were silent for the few minutes it took for the kettle to boil, and I couldn't help watching him. God he was gorgeous, even half-asleep he was amazingly attractive. I wondered if we had been more than partners, but how could we have been if I was married? Was I changing into a different person, because I had no pattern to go by from who I was? I watched him drop a handful of chocolate candies in my cup and smiled. The first time he made me coffee, I thought it was missing something and he told me what I usually put in it. Yah-it sounded a little odd, but the coffee did taste better that way
         "Here you are, Ray." He announced, offering me the cup, then settling into the armchair a few feet away to sip his tea.
         "Ben?"
         "Yes, Ray?"
         "Are we...did we...?" God this was hard. How does someone ask something this personal. I felt like an idiot. I couldn't exactly say, hey, buddy, since we're partners and all, I was just wonderin' if we were sleepin' together to, ya know sharin' everything? 'Case I'm getting' damn horny watchin' you but I don't know if I'm gay, straight or bi-so how's about tellin' me?
         "Yes, Ray?" Fraser prompted and I realized I hadn't finished my sentence. Instead I decided to ask something else that had been on my mind.
         "Fraser-how did I get shot?" I watched him stiffen and lower his eyes.
         "Ray..." he warned and I immediately knew he was going to refuse to tell me, yet again.
         "I want to know!" I declared, my anger rising again. Why was everyone so afraid to tell me what happened-didn't they realize it could be just what I needed to trigger my gaping memory? Didn't they understand that the things I was imaging was much worse than anything they could tell me?
         "The doctor said..." Fraser began uncomfortable.
         "Screw the doctor!" I demanded. "I have a right to know. If you were really my friend ya'd tell me." I saw a flash of pain in his eyes just before he lowered them to stare at his tea.
         "It is because I am your friend that I cannot tell you, Ray."  He stated quietly and I growled.
         "If ya ain't gonna help me, why are you here?"
         "I am trying to help, Ray..."
         "Well yer not helpin' Fraser!" I shouted. "Not the way I need ya to."
         "Ray... please calm down." He suggested raising his eyes to mine again. "Why are you getting angry with me? I only want to..."
         "Tell me what happened."
         "No."
         "Tell me, Fraser or I swear I'll..." I paused as a sense of déjà vu hit me.
         A scene flashed through my mind, two men arguing by the waterfront. Both soaking wet, one furious the other passively calm. A warning issued and the man in red didn't listen. It was Samson- the blond from his dreams, but he knew now it was also him. He was Samson,  Even when he had been remembering Fraser after first seeing him, he never actually saw himself in the vision, it was more just a knowledge of being there. He felt his hand rise before rational thought of what he was doing connected to his brain.
         "Ray?" I blinked and found myself back in my apartment with Fraser.  Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Fraser and Ray-no Stan. How many people was I and which one was the real me? The man I felt I was becoming or the man I once was, according to those around me. I was Stanley Kowalski, I was also Ray Vecchio  and Samson from my dreams, then who am I now? Which of these men was the real me? I glanced down at my hand, the same hand that had hit Fraser in my vision and I felt tears spring to my eyes.
         "I'm sorry, Ben." I whispered suddenly, sparking confusion from the Mountie. "I..I didn't mean to yell..I...I didn't mean to hit ya."
         "You never hit me, Ray." Fraser assured puzzled.
         "I did..I did, on the...da waterfront. I hit ya an' I'm sorry." I stated and understanding dawned in the deep blue eyes. Fraser set his cup on the table, rose from his chair, and knelt beside me, his gaze never leaving mine.
         "You remember that, Ray?" he questioned softly and I nodded,  he was so close now I could barely speak, as I inhaled the deep musky, male scent of him. If I leaned just a little toward him, our lips would touch, but what would Fraser do? I had no idea if the Canadien had any sort of the same feelings I was having.
         "Ben, were we...are we....?" I just couldn't say the words, I couldn't ask it.
         "Are we what, Ray?" he asked curious.
         "Are we..did we..." I growled in frustration and finally decided to show him, since the words refused to come. I grabbed his face in my hands and pulled him toward me to claim his mouth. I didn't go crazy, not for the first kiss, didn't even use my tounge, just moved my mouth over his shyly. Then I released him and sat back, waiting for the boom to fall. Would he slug me, walk out, scream at me? What? For a long moment he did neither of these, just sat there staring at me in mild shock.
         "Ray?" he questioned huskily, confusion in his eyes.
         "Did we or do we ever have sex, Fraser?" I finally blurted and watched his eyes grow wide with comprehension. He blushed bright red and I felt like a jerk as he lowered his eyes from mine. I had blown it big time. I should have just kept my feelings to myself and now he probably hated me.
         "I...No, Ray." He informed and I felt my heart drop in shame and embaressment for us both. "Unfortunately we did not have that type of relationship." I knew it! I knew I was grasping at straws. What would someone who looks like Fraser be doing with someone like...waitaminute! Did he just say unfortunately?
         "I'm sor......Unfortunately, Fraser?" I repeated puzzled. "W..what does that mean, exactly? Does dat mean you...um...you want..er..to..."
         "Yes, Ray." He admitted shyly, honestly. "I find you incredibly attractive." I'm sure had my smile been hooked up to the city's power supply I would have lit the entire west side. I leaned forward again and pressed my lips to his once more. At first Fraser returned the kiss and it felt...right, but then he pulled away frowning.
        "Ray, you're confused." he reminded. "I don't want to..." I shook my head and kept him from moving further away from me by grabbing his shoulder.
        "I know what I feel, Ben. I want you."
        "I...I want you as well, Ray." he admitted shyy. "But I don't think..."
        "Slowly den." I offered, silencing him by placing my finger to his lips and he nodded. I could take it slow, dispite the fact I really wanted to just nail him here on the floor. Between my legs and his doubts of my memory, it wasn't the right time. That caused me to remember what I had been thunking about earlier and I let my hand drop to my lap.
        "Ray?" Fraser asked concerned.
         "Where...where is my wife, Fraser." I managed to croak as I watched him stiffen in response. "Where's Stella? Does she..does she know I'm alive?"
         "I...Ray I..." Fraser obviously didn't know how to answer my questions. The bedroom! The bedroom was the key.
         "Take me...help me go...in there." I asked, trying to push back the mind numbing pain the effort of trying to rise as I indicated the room we had just come from.
         "Use your chair, Ray?" Fraser suggested but I shook my head.
         "Just help me, please." I must have finally got to him, because a minute later he had his arm around me, supporting me as I made my slow, agonizing path to the bedroom.  Just as I got there the memories hit me like a blinding flash.
         "Yes," she sighed. "Oh yes, Ray my love." Ray kissed and licked her entire upper body, then, moved to pull her at the waistband of her slacks. She raised her hips to aid him and she cried out as his mouth found her center. Her fingers wound through his hair as he drove her through wave after wave of incredible pleasure.
        She pulled him upward and pushed him onto his back, pulling at his shirt and jeans
frantically, as Ray tried to help her get them off. She slid over him without further
preparation and took him inside her, pulling a guttural groan from her husband as she rode. He cried out her name as he released inside her and her head flew back as she claimed her own ecstasy."
         I was shaking now, my whole body felt like it was one giant vibration, even as Fraser kept me supported in an upright position. I glanced back out toward my living room, on the top of dresser and noticed the picture from His desk missing, of His and Stella's wedding day. I couldn't help thinking of Ray Kowalski, or rather Samson in the third person, even though I knew we were one and the same. I asked Fraser to help me to the bed and I managed to sit with my legs over the side as I started to pull out the drawer in His nightstand. I emptied the contents almost frantically, unaware that Fraser was watching me concerned, as I rifled through the odds and ends the drawer held. A few things looked familiar, but not many. A few pictures, an extra magazine for my gun, tickets to a ball game from last year, just mementos that really meant nothing to me now. There was something missing though, I could sense it and so I searched again.
         "What are you looking for, Ray?" Fraser inquired quietly, but I didn't even glance at him.
        "There...there should be a picture in here, of him and...I mean me and...and Stella." I informed, still searching through the contents. "I...I can't remember where it was taken but it should be here. And...His...I think a ring is missing, His...my wedding ring and...something else. I don't know but it's gone."
         "What are you remembering, Ray?" Fraser asked concerned.
        "Just...just pieces." I admitted shakily, as one after the other more memories assailed me even as I spoke. "Some things I...I remember that He...I was married to Stella...at least I think her name is Stella, but I don't remember any feelings for her. I can't...I can't find any...feelings attached to her." I looked up at him.                 "Shouldn't' I feel something? She is his..I mean my wife wasn't she? Are we still married? Where is she, Fraser? Why isn't she here taking care of me?" Fraser settled slowly on the bed next to me, careful of the mess I had made from the odds and ends in the drawer.
         "Maybe it is better that you don't remember, Ray." He sighed and I stared at him shocked.
         "What? How can you say that? Shouldn't I want to remember my wife and..." I paused. "Mum-she took a bag of something out of here, she must have taken these things, the picture and...why would she do that?"
         "Perhaps she trying to keep you from any additional pain, Ray."
         "That doesn't make sense, Fraser!" I exclaimed. "Where is Stella? Where is my wife?"
         "She...you were divorced, Ray." Fraser supplied uneasily. "You were no longer married."
         "But where is she?" I demanded. "Even divorced, she'd still feel some kinda emotion fer me, right? I mean I was shot, in a coma. Are you tellin' me she never even came to see me?"
         "She couldn't, Ray."
         "Why?" Fraser could see I was getting upset and he seemed to grow more apprehensive the louder I got.
         "Ray, please calm down I don't think..."
         "Tell me Fraser!" I insisted angrily. "Tell me where she is."
         "She's dead, Ray." Fraser stated quietly and I felt as though he had physically hit me. Dead? How...when...why....I glanced at the pillow that I was crumpling in my hand, it wasn't my pillow. My pillow had been covered in blood, my pillow had been stained red from the shot. I remembered opening my eyes, just as my own gun was put to my head, remembering Stella pleading for forgiveness for what she was about to do. No! No don't! And then the pain, the god-awful pain as the bullet pierced my skull and the final thing I saw was my beautiful wife, putting the same gun in her mouth and pulling the trigger.
         "NOOOOOOOO!" I screamed hysterically. "She's dead! She can't be dead!! Oh God! Oh God! STELLA!!" I barely felt solid arms around me as I succumbed to the blessed darkness.

 
          I blinked as my eyes opened and adjusted to the darkness of my room, with only a pale beam of moonlight from the window breaking through it. I moaned, God my head hurt. Where was I? Oh yah-my bedroom. I pulled myself into a sitting position and slumped against the headboard, as I surveyed my surroundings. The mementos I had spread about the bed had been placed back in their drawer, which was also back in the nightstand beside me. I opened the drawer, glanced inside to corroborate my suspicions, then closed the drawer and settled back against my pillows again.
         Oh Stella, why did you do it? I would have stayed with you forever if you had only asked, why did you have to do this to me, to you, to us? Now you're dead and I can't even recall enough of the love I once had for you to be anything but disappointed that you're gone. You tried to rob me of my life, and secretly I wish you had and that I was now wherever you are, but instead you stole the love I had for you-the soul wrenching passion that I equated with you. God, Stella-I loved you so much, how could you have done this? We could have gotten help, it would have been better.
         I sighed and glanced toward the window, tuning out the sounds of the streets below that could be heard even through the glass. I remember you Stella, but I don't remember how I felt about you. I know I loved you deeply, but I can't find that feeling anymore. I finally remember my folks, still just pieces but at least it was something. I'm sure Mum was just trying to help by taking out my old sheets and pillows and by hiding your pictures, but she shouldn't have done it. They loved you too, Stell, how could you hurt them like this?
         I heard the sounds of Fraser in the living room, perhaps he was also restless and part of me wanted to go out there with him, but I couldn't. Right now I was too raw, even for the comfort of my Mountie, it would only hurt more to have him witness my distress at this point. I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall and lay back on my pillows, there would be more nightmares, more dreams, but I would deal with them, because they would make me whole again.
 
 

        I'm gonna kill him! That was the only thought that was currently running through my brain at the moment as I followed the Mountie across the rooftop of the building and attempted to dodge the bullets of the men firing back at us. How did he manage to get into trouble so quickly? It was phenomenal. All we did was walk into a video store to rent a movie, and of course Fraser had to pick a place that was being held up. We got one perp quick enough, but the two with the artillery had bailed through the back and for some weird reason grabbed the fire escape and scrambled to the roof of the building next to it.  Morons! You use a fire escape to get down from a building, not climb it, but then whoever said crooks were intelligent creatures? I grabbed Fraser and dove behind a brick chimney as they paused to turn and fire again, I cannot believe the Canadian does not carry a weapon,  even as I quickly reload and pull on my glasses.
         "Are you alright, Ray?" Fraser asked politely, as he peers around the chimney to see if the suspects were still within sight. I jerked him back down violently as a bullet wizzed past his head, missing his hat by centimeters.
         "No, I am not alright, Fraser." I informed furious, my hands were shaking so badly from the adrenaline pumping through me it took two tries to get my weapon loaded properly, but then I had only been back on the street for two weeks and was still getting used to everything again.. My instinct were intact, just a little fuzzy at times. "I am chasing two creeps across the rooftops of Chicago in ninety degree weather without backup, other than a partner who isn't armed, and with only one clip left, does that sound alright to you?"
         "It is rather exciting isn't it, Ray?" Fraser teased and I swallow the urge to slug him as he checked the other men's status once more.
         "You are unhinged." I declared firmly and he almost grins.
         "You think?" he asked and I shook my head before rising to full view and shooting the guy on my right in the wrist, forcing him to drop his gun. The other fires back wildly and I ducked but not quickly enough and I felt the bullet graze my shoulder. I gritted my teeth and signaled for Fraser to make his move. Jumping up again I fired enough spread to cover my partner as he leapt at the man and took him down. Finally we had them in custody and I glared at Fraser.
         "Why do you do dis to me?" I questioned and he gazed at me innocently.
         "Do what, Ray?' he rebuffed easily. I knew it was useless to get into specifics at that moment because knowing Fraser he would only pretend he knows not of what I speak and then I may just have to shoot him. I just grinned defeated and shook my head as we hauled the two perps to their feet and read them their rights.
 
         It felt good to be back in the game again, the majority of my memory had returned over the past few months, with the use of my legs thankfully, and I was feeling like my old self, only different. I suppose my perspective has changed slightly, I can't exactly recall the way I felt about things back before I was shot, even when the memories continue to haunt me. My relationship with my folks was going really well, my Dad and me were talkin' pretty regular now about different things and my Mum was as over- affectionate as ever, God love her.
         I had moved out of my old apartment, the memories had been too heavy at the time and I wanted to start fresh, so I talked Fraser into moving into a three bedroom split level house close to the Consulate-so he could walk easily to work if needed. It had a large basement apartment, that I offered to my folks for when they weren't traveling, a decent sized yard for Dief to run in with plenty of trees and even a small pool, since Fraser was insistent I learn to swim.
         I had seen the house while apartment shopping and believe it or not, fell in love with it, so I bought it. I'd had plenty of money saved for the down payment and the mortgage payments weren't bad at all, since it was an older home and not as prominently desired. Fraser and I had busted our skinny asses fixing it up, it was in pretty bad shape when we first moved in, but had a solid foundation and pluming fixtures. We had spent all our free time painting, nailing, gluing, insulating, you name it. It had original hard wood floors, which we both seemed to prefer it seemed, with high ceilings and original hand carved woodwork around the build in shelves and fireplace mantels.
         The land level of the house held a large kitchen, with a small dining area and breakfast patio that opened up toward the back yard. A large door in the back of the kitchen led to the basement, which held the washer and dryer. Adjacent to that was a small den that we had turned into a game room, with an air hockey table, pool room and dart board among the small, comfortable furniture to settle into.  Back upstairs a spacious living area took up most of the front of the house with a gray stone corner fireplace and a small study off of the living area, which also housed a small bathroom. Upstairs were the three bedrooms and two additional bathrooms, one off the master suite for privacy the other connecting the two smaller guest rooms. Also a large alcove that Fraser had turned into a walk in library at the end of the hall.
         My parent's apartment was in the basement, or game room area, and held two small bedrooms a decent sized living area and kitchen and bathroom. We had insulated it well, so if twe were unwinding from work in the evening, the sounds of the game room would not bother my folks. Although, I allowed my mother and Father in the upper level of the house any time they wanted and often the four of us ate together or played a game of pool. Mum insisted on doing the majority of the cooking and laundry, since we were not charging them rent, but I drew the line at her cleaning the house, not wanting her to over due and explaining that Fraser and I would take care of it. Of course, Barbara Kowalski was not one to take no for an answer. So when us boys would come home and find not so much as a speck of dust in the house and all our laundry neatly folded and put away, we let it slide-arguing with her would do no good.
 
        I swung the front door wide and stepped into the blessedly cool air conditioning, Fraser quickly following. He wasn't fond of heat either, being from Canada obviously, and had already started to strip out of his tunic as he placed his Stetson on a shelf just behind the door that I had put in especially for the revered hat. Dief trotted in, we had left him home today to get over his latest trip to the vet and his bout of sulking. I absently bent slightly to give him a good ruffle behind the ears, then straightened and started to pull off my shoulder holster, careful of my wounded shoulder, as Dief begged some affection from Fraser.  I hung my holster on a hook just inside the door and could smell the delicious aroma of home made Pierogi and beef borscht, something I hadn't had since I was a kid, and followed the smell to the kitchen where my mum was just taking the stuffed dumplings out of the oven.
         "Hello my darlings." She greeted as Fraser joined me and I quickly moved to put my arms around her and give her an affectionate squeeze.
         "This is a treat." I told her as Fraser dutifully kissed her cheek in greeting.
         "Hello Mom." He offered, since she refused to allow him to call her anything else. "We appreciate your culinary talents, but you really shouldn't go to so much trouble."
         "I enjoy it." She assured smiling at us both, then moving out of my embrace to check on the soup. "Besides, I'm sure you and Stanley must be exhausted from your hard day's work."
         "We're good, Mum." I replied with an appeasing grin, then moved toward the stairs. "Have I got time for a shower?"
         "You both do, if you hurry." She assured smiling as she covered the soup. "Dad ran to the store for some bread, he'll be back shortly." I nodded and indicated for Fraser  to follow me up with a crook of my finger. We were both soaked from sweat, especially with our exercise on the rooftop and my left leg was starting to throb. It still gave me trouble every now and then when I overworked it, as I had today. My shoulder hurt some, but it had already been seen to at the station and Fraser had applied a bandage to keep the wound clean. I peeled of my shirt as we walked into the master bedroom, and tossed it into the hamper as Fraser closed the door behind him. I dropped on the bed to pull of my boots and winced as I bent my sore leg. Fraser was on knee before me almost instantly.
         "Is your leg bothering you, Ray?" he asked concerned and I shook my head in denial, even as I winced when he lifted my foot to remove my boot for me. "I am sorry Ray. I never should have..."
         "No guilt trips." I ordered, placing a hand on his shoulder for a balance as he pulled of my other boot. "We got da bad guy's Frase, like we always do. Don't let it bother ya."  Fraser frowned and stood, helping me to my feet with a friendly hand, as I pulled off my belt. He was going to start blaming himself again and I wouldn't have that.  I stepped forward and again placed a hand on his arm, making sure he met my gaze with those hypnotic blue eyes of his. "It's gonna happen on occasion, Ben-we know dat.  I don't want people treatin' me different, I wanna do my job the best I can. At least I can walk and run now, I ain't confined to a chair. I'm okay-a little soreness is worth dat, okay?" Fraser nodded slowly, but I could still the guilt edged in his face and I sighed.    "Com'ahn, let's get outta deese clothes and hop in da shower, whad'ya say? Pitter patter?" He smiled a little at that and started to pull off his suspenders.
         "Are we...are we taking one together, Ray?" He asked with a shy hopefulness as I stripped off my jeans, socks and briefs and checked my shoulder dressing; Fraser had applied a covering of plastic, knowing I would want a shower when we got home, to keep the wound dry.
         "Only if yer quick enough, Benton buddy." I teased and darted for the bathroom, despite my sore leg. It must have been the fastest disrobing in history because seconds later Fraser was behind me, as I bent to turn on the faucet. I couldn't help pausing to glance back at him, God he was beautiful!
          It was still hard to believe that when I had finally gotten up the courage to ask my partner if anything sexual had ever happened between us before he had given me a direct answer. He had denied the charge but had started out with the word unfortunately giving me the impression that he had wished it had. So, I told him I was attracted to him, hell I suspected I was in love with him, though unsure if the feelings were new or left over from the old Ray I used to be. It didn't seem to matter because Fraser said he felt the same, even though he never voiced the words. It was harder for him to say it, I was okay with that, I still got the message that he wanted me.
         When I had suggested moving in together, he had been pleased and slightly surprised I think that I was willing to go that next step. Well, we couldn't exactly get married, and although we kept our personal relationship secret, not many seemed surprised that we moved in together. We were partners and best friends after all, spending most of our time together anyway,  so I guess they figured that was cool. Francesca and Welsh knew, so did Dewey and Hewy, but those were all of our work friends that we had let in on the secret. Francesca had taken it a little hard at first, but got over it rather quickly, having set her sights on another Mountie, a guy named Turnbull that I barely remembered, but seemed nice enough, if you were into giant Canadian's on the slightly odd side. My parents were more accepting that I had expected, Mum was delighted to have another son to coddle over and Dad enjoyed Fraser's tales of Canada and the Mountie's obvious intelligence.
         I tore my gaze away  from the abundance of pale Mountie flesh before me finally, damn but Canada had some fine exports. I stepped under the hot stinging spray, knowing Mum would have dinner ready soon, and Fraser joined me, pulling the mirrored doors closed around us. We both soaped each other's bodies with a lazy indulgence, Fraser even washed my hair, which I happened to love by the way. Soon we were facing each other, sliding our bodies together in a moist friction that created mind-numbing sensations. I knew we didn't have the time to really get down and dirty, but then Fraser's hot mouth was covering mine and all sense of time flew out the window. Fraser was a fantastic kisser, which I should have guessed considering the way he likes to lick things, but that aside he worked my mouth like a pro.
         Some time later we finally made it downstairs to dinner, Fraser blushed the moment we entered the kitchen where my folks sat at the table, making it obvious what we had been doing, but I just smiled and helped my Mom set the table. My dad just sort of shook his head as Fraser settled beside him and my Mom just smiled at me knowingly and patted the Mountie's arm indulgently. She had accepted Fraser pretty easily and made him feel as a part of the family.
         I rolled up the sleeves of the blue Flannel shirt I wore, which was actually Fraser's, but I had kind of adopted it as my official off duty shirt. It as really soft from so many washings and it always smelled like Fraser, even when it just came from the laundry. The air conditioning was comfortable enough in the house that I could wear it without getting too warm, because Fraser liked it cool so I accommodated him. In turn, I got to wear his shirt, and a few other choice items I had snatched from his closet from time to time.
         Mum picked up the dumplings and headed toward the dining room, as I grabbed the soup. Pain shot up my left leg and I managed to put the dish back on the counter before I dropped it. I balanced my weight on my right leg and took a few deep breaths, waiting for the cramp to ease. I glanced over toward my family; Fraser was smiling and chatting with Mum as he took the hot dumplings from her. I wondered if I might get away with sneaking off to my room for a minute as I had some painkillers there, but they would notice if I did that. I gritted my teeth, the pain was now a constant mind-numbing throb, as I picked up the soup and headed toward the table. Mum noticed my slight limp and cast a worried glance my way, but I just shook my head and smiled, letting her know I was fine and not to harp on me about not being careful. I could be technical and tell her to harp on Fraser, he was the one that caused me to be running for some reason of another; chasing bad guys, outrunning guns, explosions, etc... but I was feeling generous today and let it go. I'd take out my revenge on Fraser later, when we were alone.
         I more or less dropped into my chair, receiving a curious look from my partner, but again I smiled as Mum finally settled in her chair and we said a quick grace before eating. The meal was delicious and took my mind off my leg a little bit anyway. Afterwards, Fraser insisted he would do the dishes, which wasn't much since I had insisted on buying a dishwasher when we moved in, and suggested we all have a seat in the living room and he would bring in some tea. Mum tried twice to help but finally my Father led her gently but firmly out of the kitchen and settled her on the sofa. I still had not risen from my chair, or offered to help, as Fraser cleared the table, simply pretended to finish off my salad. My leg was so bad I knew that if I tried to stand it wouldn't support my weight, so I was determined to sit it out and not worry anyone. Suddenly Fraser stopped beside me, gave me a scolding look, then lifted me into his arms.
         "What!" I exclaimed surprised as he stood there for a moment watching me, as I automatically grabbed at his neck for balance. He wouldn't drop me; I wasn't worried about that, I was just surprised. "What the hell are ya doin' Fraser?"
         "Being romantic, my love." He assured as he carried me into the living room and settled me in the love seat that matched the sofa where my parents sat, both of whom were peering at us curiously. "You won't let me buy you flowers." I grinned at him and shook my head as the blush climbed into my cheeks and my mother giggled.
         "You freak." I muttered, receiving a knowing smile.
         "If I'm a freak, what does that make you, Ray?" he countered.
         "A freak lover." I laughed and my Mum giggled again, even pulled a chuckle from my old man.
        Fraser straightened and went to get the tea then appeared a few moments later with the small serving tray and a piece of pie for everyone, Fraser was nothing if not perfection in his serving manners. Although the cups all matched, there was coffee in mine and my father's as neither of us were big tea drinkers. Fraser made sure everyone had his or her drink and desert then finally settled next to me.
         "Where is Diefenbaker?" My Mum suddenly asked she adored the wolf enormously and was used to having him underfoot.
         "I fixed him a bowl in the kitchen." Fraser replied calmly as he reached over and plucked my hand from my lap to fold it in his. I smiled, then frowned as I realized there was something small between our joined palms, and I stared at him as he released my hand to reach for his tea. I glanced at my folks, who were talking to each other for the moment, and popped the painkillers into my mouth, swallowing then with a quick sip of coffee.
         My Father had asked Fraser a question and the Mountie was answering in his usual long winded way, which Dad actually got a kick out of, as I turned to look at him shyly. That was why he'd carried me in here, he knew my leg was bothering me, but how? I thought I did a good job of disguising the pain, but apparently ol' Blue Eyes misses nothing. Fraser glanced at me and I offered him a grateful smile, which he returned readily, though I sensed he was still feeling slightly guilty about our earlier adventure and causing my leg to hurt.
         "Put on some tunes, Ben." I requested softly and he nodded, rising to comply. My parents exchanged a glance, then quickly finished their pie and drinks, commenting that there was a program on television they wanted to see. Fraser automatically offered to let them watch it with us, but my folks know when to leave and they simply smiled and declined. My Mum gave Fraser quick good night kiss, as he searched through my CD's, then stopped by my chair and gave me one. She wrapped her arms around me for a brief hug and whispered in my ear.
         "We love you Stanley, both of you. I'm so glad you're happy at last." I swallowed the lump that had risen in my throat and threatened to choke me as she pulled back and I witnessed the tears in her eyes. She had told me she loved me every night since my accident, but I hadn't expected her to say that and it touched me beyond words.
         "Love you too, Mum." I finally managed as she straightened. She flashed me a brilliant smile as I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and I glanced up at my Father.
         "Yer a good boy, Ray." He offered gruffly, surprising me even more. I grabbed at his hand as he started to move away, fear knotting my chest.
         "Yer not dyin' or anythin' are ya Dad?" I blurted, trying to find a reason for their sudden tenderness. Well, My Mum was always sensitive, but Dad? He rarely got mushy. My Father chuckled and squeezed my hand, then dropped a kiss on the top of my head affectionately.
         "Ya ain't dat lucky, Son." He replied. "I'll be around to torment you awhile yet." I nodded, relief flooding me and released his hand.
        "O...okay. Just, y'know checkin'." Derek Kowalski looked thoughtful for a long moment, then finally spoke again.
         "I...I know we had us some differences in the past, Son, but when you...when we almost..." His voice broke and I blinked back my own tears in amazement. "I just want ya to know I love ya and I'm real glad of da way ya turned out. I...I was wrong about you bein' a cop, Ray, yer a damn good cop and you got you a fine partner. A Father couldn't me more proud to have you as his son." I glanced at Fraser who was watching quietly, surprised and pleased by what my Father had said.
         "I...Dad I...love you too, Dad." I finally managed to say and my father nodded, clearing his throat as he made to leave, he paused to playfully ruffle my hair then headed downstairs with my Mother. I gaped at Fraser, the chuckled nervously. "What the hell was dat all about?" Fraser smiled and put a CD in the player, then settled beside me once again.
         "Sounds like two parent's saying good night to their son, Ray." He commented as he carefully swung my legs up on his lap and started to gently massage the sore one.
         "Yah, but dere' my parents." I returned, wincing as he worked the muscles, then finally relaxing under his touch, Fraser's had great hands. "Ya think maybe dey got kidnapped by aliens and dat's like only, y'know, duplicates of my real folks?" I joked pulling a smile from my partner.
         "That's just silly, Ray." He insisted as he worked my calf muscles. "We have already ascertained that you were the one kidnapped my aliens, not your parents."
         "Har de har Fraser, really funny. I oughta..." I gasped and almost jumped off the cushions beneath me as he reached my thigh and pain shot through me.
         "Are you alright, Ray?" he asked quickly, his hands pausing as he observed my no doubt suddenly white features. I nodded yes but the pain kept me from answering. Fraser carefully maneuvered out from under me, then started to lift me into his arms again.
         "No." I refused pushing him away. "I am not an invalid, Ben, don't carry me."
         "But Ray I..."
         "It'll be okay in a minute, really." I bit my lip and arched back against the seat as my leg spasmed again. Why did it take so long for the painkillers to kick in? "G...go get da tub, ready buddy." I suggested when I could speak. "We'll have us a lil' soak and I'll be right as rain." Fraser looked like he was prepared to argue, but then he rose and headed upstairs. I leaned back against the cushions and tried not to shake, I was sweating bullets already from the sheer will it was taking me not to scream. I didn't want my folks seein' me like this, it just worried them. Most of the time I was good to go, but every now and then my leg gave me a little trouble, as if reminding me of what I almost lost and how grateful I should be to still be around. I was breathing heavily and I knew Fraser probably would end up carrying me upstairs, but at this point I didn't care.
         "Ready, Ray?" Fraser asked, appearing beside me before I even finished the thought. I smiled weakly at him, he had changed into his trunks and short robe.
        "Lookin' good dere, buddy." I commented allowing my eyes to travel over him and watching the flush rise to his cheeks.
         "Ray!" he scolded and bent beside me, suddenly serious. "Please let me help you?" I sighed and nodded.
         "I couldn't stand even if I wanted to Ben." I admitted as he carefully pulled me into his arms. I hid my face in the crook of his shoulder so he wouldn't see the agony on my face at the movement.
         "I enjoy carrying you, Ray." Fraser whispered softly as he steadily climbed the stairs to our bedroom and the adjoining bathroom that also held the small Jacuzzi the doctor had recommended that I install. I was glad I had listened, for it was good for my leg, but also a great way to relax after a hard day of chasing bad guys. Fraser helped me into my suit, the painkillers were finally starting to work and now it was back to the throbbing discomfort stage, as Fraser and I stepped into the hot bubbling water.
          "Feeling any better, Ray?" He asked as I leaned my head back and let the healing water swirl around me.
         "Yah, buddy." I sighed; already the pain was lessening. "I'm good now, thanks." Fraser smiled in relief and settled next to me, careful to avoid touching my leg. He draped an arm around my shoulders and dropped a kiss on my forehead. I grinned. Everybody was kissing me today, what did I do that deserved all this attention?
         "Ray?"
         "Hmmm?" I had almost started to drift off when he spoke.
         "Have you remembered anything else?" he asked quietly. "Something...you haven't told me?" I opened my eyes to meet his worried gaze.
         "Where did dat come from, Ben?" I asked puzzled. "Ya know I tell ya everythin' I remember." Fraser used his free hand to run his thumb along the bridge of his nose nervously.
         "I...yes, I know I just...well I was...that is..."
         "Spit it out, Fraser." I pressed impatiently.
         "Well, I...I was just wondering if you...umm...if you ever feel you have...ah...made a mistake." I scowled and sat up slightly to get a better view of his face.
         "Mistake about what?"
         "Um...well, about...us, Ray." He finally said and I gaped at him in shock.
         "You think....if my....that I don't....Are you off yer freakin' rocker?" I shouted angrily as I finally realized what he was asking. He really thought if my memory fully returned that one-day I'd decide I don't really love him and want to be with him? How could anyone be that dumb? Fraser was already trying to counter his words.
         "Ray, please don't get angry I just..."
         "No!" I exclaimed. Then forced myself to calm down. I knew Fraser sometimes had a hard time accepting things would work out for him, like me, but this...this was incredible! I took a few deep breaths and studied his worried face. "Fraser...Ben." I added softly. "No matter what I do or don't remember, I will always want to be with you."
         "But Ray, before you...well, you preferred women and you never..."
         "Frase, I know what I was before," I allowed. "I do remember dat, most of it anyway, but I also know who I am now and I like me much better this way, the way I am wit you.  I...I don't know if my feelin's fer you were dere before or if I only started feelin' em when I woke up, but it's how I feel now and it's not gonna change, ya got me?" Fraser nodded, but I sensed I hadn't yet convinced him.
         "What about...about her?" I sighed, neither he nor my folks would use my ex-wife's name, they rarely spoke of her, like she was some kinda taboo.
         "Stella's dead, Fraser." I stated, expecting to feel the soul wrenching heartache that used to accompany thoughts of her, but feeling only tired disappointment. "She can't hurt me or you or anybody else. I...I don't think she meant to hurt anyone she just...she wasn't right. She got confused I guess and I got caught in da middle."
         "But Ray, what if you remember how...how you feel about...felt about her?" Fraser's eyes lowered. "You loved her so much Ray. You were devoted to her." I nodded my feelings for Stella had been a secret I couldn't hide to anyone.
         "I know dat, Ben." I admitted. "But I don't feel dat way now. I mean, I sorta remember lovin' her, bein' wit her, but dat...the other emotions just aren't dere. I can't...I can't seem to make myself feel 'em, like I used to. Everything I remember about her, and even about my folks are kinda like it's me but not me; like I'm watching someone else playin' me in a movie, with none of the emotional attachments."
         "But you remembered me, Ray." Fraser prompted. "Didn't...were you not aware of feelings for me?"
         "Well, yah." I assured quickly. "Hell, Frase, I remembered you before I even knew who you were."
         "I don't understand, Ray."
         "When I was in da hospital," I explained. "Before I officially woke up, I remembered your voice, the feel of...well, you around me. Your smell, everything that made you my partner, and it made me feel safe and happy." Fraser smiled in delight.
         "Really, Ray?"
         "Of course." I nodded. "But I love you, not Stella, not anyone else, ya got me? If I never remember everything or if I remember all of it, I'll still want only you, Ben love." Fraser blushed and pressed his lips to mine. After a long, deliciously soul reaching kiss he raised his head, and I was ready for a question of my own.
         "What about when Vecchio comes back, Frase? What happens den?"
         "Then I will be deliriously happy, because I will have my two best friends with me." He replied easily, but locked his gaze to mine. "Ray Vecchio is my friend and was my partner, you are my friend, my partner, my love, my all. It will change nothing, Ray."
         "Yer sure?" I asked worried and he pulled me closer again.
         "I never lie, Ray." He reminded as he claimed my mouth once more.
 

         I stared down at the grave marker, a small marble headstone with Stella Kowalski's name across it in bold letters; a tiny angel perched on top. Considering what the bible said about suicide and murder, I suspected she would need that extra help where ever she ended up and had it placed on the headstone just a week or so after I finally remembered what had happened. My folks didn't say much about it, neither did anyone else, except for Fraser, and his only remark had been that Stella would have appreciated the gesture. I could tell there were still a lot of hard feelings about the woman that once was my wife, a lot of confused anger and bewilderment at what had occurred.
         Mum was pretty broken up about it, apparently she had always had a secret hope that Stella and me would get back together, but now my mother was caught between her love for her ex-daughter in law and the terrible act Stella committed. Torn between her son and her would be daughter, it was hard for her and I wished I could have prevented my Mum feelings of betrayal, but then I had my own to deal with. I knelt close to the headstone, a little off to the side so I wouldn't be on the actual grave itself, I was still superstitious about that apparently, and arranged the small bouquet of flowers in the small holder provided. A piece of a conversation swept over me, something about not being informed that my new Canadian partner had a wolf that wanted to be a florist, and I shook my head slightly. Little things triggered phrases or memories, this I was getting used too as more and more of my memory returned. Expecting to feel devastation and anger I only felt a sad sense of loss.
        Even now, I still couldn't feel what I suspected I used to or should feel for her. I remembered being devoted to her, I could recall some of the love I had held so greatly for her, but now there was nothing. Maybe it was the memory loss, maybe the shooting itself. It wasn't every day a man's ex-wife tried to commit murder suicide with the man she claimed to love. Perhaps it was all the old feelings of the abuse I had finally admitted to, which I still dreamed about at times, though it was more like I was watching the movie of the week then my own past experience. Perhaps it was just God's will-which seemed to be Mum's view on the subject. Who, despite being broken up about Stella and what had happened, seemed more concerned about my health and happiness then what could have been.
        I pulled from my pocket, the plain gold band that had been my wedding ring, and rolled it thoughtfully between my fingers. I never really knew why I had kept it, or why I had bothered to ask for the things back that Mum had taken from the apartment, which I had placed in a box that now sat on the shelf of mine and Fraser's closet. Perhaps it was the need to hold onto a piece of her still, or just the fact that they were reminders of a past that was still at times hazy to me. Whatever the reason I would keep the pictures and other mementos, at least for now.
        I sighed and placed the ring next to the flowers that I had no more use for and I really felt it should be with Stella anyway. She wanted us to be together, or at least for her and the Ray she had married to be together, in a way we still are, I suppose. She took certain parts away from me when she shot me, certain things that were Stanley Raymond Kowalski, specific feelings and emotions that I no longer possessed. So in a way she took that part of her husband with her and maybe that was a little comfort to her. My rage that I sensed I had at the time that she spoke of had left, although Fraser assures me I am stilly as maniacally energetic and distastefully prone to junk food as I ever was. I no longer felt the despair and worry I once did in a way that is a good thing, but it has also made me incapable of feeling the grief I should be feeling at my wife's death and the loss of so much that was me.
        I nodded to myself and straightened, wishing I could change things that were not in my power to do so, and pulled out my prescription shades. It really sucked to learn that I really was blind, terribly near sighted anyway, but at least I could see what really counted. I tilted my face toward the warmth of the sun as a song filtered through my head. A picture of pretty brunette singing with a familiar Mountie.

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