This is a sequal to Tragic Deception, rated R for language and suggestion of slash. H/C, Angst, M/F M/M.

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By: Amethyst
 

        Stanley Raymond Kowalski opened the door to the spare bedroom that held the hospital bed, glanced over the thin almost colorless face of Beth Botrell and sighed dejectedly. He wished he could do more but the doctors had said they had already done all they could, the Cancer was simply spreading too fast.
         It was hard to believe it had been less than six months when he and Beth had gone to Newfoundland to celebrate their two year anniversary together, and consequently Ray had gotten past at least some of his animosity for Fraser. It seemed a life time ago that they walked along the rock coastal beaches, had picnics in the over flowing fields of wildflowers and took pictures of the humpbacks that had graced them with their presence on a boat ride with Fraser and Billy. Beth had loved it there, he'd never seen her happier.
         Now, as the cancer devoured her almost skeletal frame, left from the Chemo and radiation treatments she had been receiving, he could hardly see the woman he loved so deeply. However, he had come to realize that she had been correct in assuming that at least part of his love, his need to be with her was out of gratitude for all she had done for his recovery. He enjoyed being with her, they were both alone and hurt by love and found companionship in their similar tragedies.
         He realized many things during their trip to Newfoundland, some of them scared him, and in some of them he found relief. Neither he discussed with the dying woman before him now. When they returned to Maine, Beth came down with bad coughing spells and pains in her stomach and abdomen. At first they thought it was just a bug or virus she caught from their trip, but then they found out it was Pancreatic Cancer and that her survival expectancy was very low.
         They had tried all the doctor's suggestions, herbal remedies, homeopathic therapy and a whole lot of praying to the higher power, but nothing worked. Beth's health continued to deteriorate and Ray was forced to helpless watch the life literally drain out of her. Finally she decided she had had enough of hospitals and she wanted to go home to their cape house on the hill.
         Ray heard the phone ringing and quickly closed the door then hurried down stairs to answer it.
         "Hello." He greeted somewhat breathlessly.
         "Hello, Ray." Fraser greeted gently. "How is Beth doing?"
         "The same." Ray returned quietly.
         "How are you doing?"
         "I've been better." He admitted blinking back his tears. He couldn't handle the Mounties's gentle sympathetic voice just now; his emotions were too close to crashing down around him. Although the two had started talking and trying to repair their shattered friendship, Ray was still afraid to let the Canadian get too close to him just yet.
         "Is there anything Billy or I can do?" Fraser offered. "Would you like us to come and stay..."
         "No." Ray returned quickly, almost too quickly. "I...I'm sorry Fraser I just...I think I just need to be alone and concentrate on Beth right now."
        "I understand." The Canadian assured softly. "Please let us know if there is anything you need."
         "Yeah." Ray agreed, his voice breaking. "Thanks for calling Fraser I've gotta go." He didn't wait for the Mountie to answer, just hung up, then dropped into a chair to try and regain his composure. Oh God Fraser! I wish I could have you here, but it would only hurt more.
         "Ray?" Beth's soft brittle voice floated into the blonde's unconscious, pulling him from a fretful sleep as he sat up in the chair he had dozed off in beside her bed.
         "I'm here baby." He assured folding her cold hand under his. He pulled the blankets up around her thin form. "You're cold sweetheart."
         "Ray." She said again.
         "I'm right here, Beth." He replied squeezing her hand ever so gently and rising so she could see him, but her eyes never focused on him.
         "I love you Ray." She said in an odd defeated voice and Ray shook his head. No! Not yet. He wasn't ready for her to go yet. Beth had said she wanted to die watching a sunset over the bay, and it was still early in the morning.
         "I love you too, Baby." He vowed as his free hand caressed her sunken cheeks. "Don't leave me yet, Beth. Hang on a little while longer, I know it hurts, sweetheart but you...you wanted to wait, remember. You made me promise to make you wait."
         "Yes..." she sighed, finally hearing him. "I...I'll wait my love." Ray released her hand as her eyes drifted closed, after briefly checking her pulse, and then he glanced at his watch and hurried down stairs. They would make it, they had too, and he'd promised her.
 
 
        Ray carefully folded Beth into the wheelchair that he had set up on their porch and, despite the warmth of the summer sun; he tucked three or four quilts around her to stop her shivering. The sun was just starting to set and it looked like it would be a beautiful one to behold.  Ray had placed a CD in the stereo, one Beth had specified, and the music surrounded them. Beth was awake, sort of, and she raised her eyes to the horizon, just as Ray heard the familiar sounds of whales in the Bay. He glanced down in shock, for the large mammals rarely ventured so close to shore.
         "I hear the whales Ray." Beth sighed. "Take me to them." Ray nodded and removed all but one quilt, knowing her heavy cotton nightgown would retain some of the heat, and carefully gathered her in his arms. He carefully descended the wooden planked from their home to the dock below. Beth continued to murmur incoherently as he paused by the edge of the pier.
         "Do you see them, sweetheart?' he asked her softly. Please God let her see them. "They came just for you."  Beth finally raised her head from his shoulder, her eyes seemed focused and clear for the first time in many days and she smiled dreamily.
         "I want to swim with them, Ray." She requested.
         "Baby the water's still too cold for you I can't..." he began but she reached up and caressed his cheek.
         "Please, lover." She insisted. "I want to feel the water on me."  After a moment's hesitation he nodded and gently settled her on the dock, before removing his shoes and socks.
         He carefully lowered himself off the dock until his feet touched bottom and the water swirled around his hips, then he carefully took hold of Beth and pulled her down beside him. Beth gave a throaty laugh and a small shiver as the cool water licked playfully at her pale skin. Ray gently turned her around lay her against him, knowing he would not have the energy to swim on her own, then slowly began floating backwards in the water, his legs and arms working constantly to keep them afloat. Beth used her own arms and feet as much as she could and smiled toward the sun that warmed her face, as the whales sang to her and the sky burst into a fire of color above them.
         "So beautiful!" she sighed as Ray slowly turned them o she could once more see the whale's spouting far ahead of them in the water. Ray was smiling but tears streamed down his face as she started softly singing the song that they could still hear from their house.

        Ray continued to rock her in tune to the music, long after they had descended on the beach, as the haunting melody penetrating his soul and he they had their final dance, while the sun disappeared into the Ocean beyond.

        Ray felt her twitch and heard her harsh intake of breath, then she went terrifyingly still in his arms. The music had stopped, the whales were moving beyond where he could see them and the sky was starting to darken with a deep midnight shadow. Ray remained where he was, dancing to an invisible tune, holding the woman he loved and mouthing a silent prayer from his childhood.
         "Now I lay her down to sleep. I pray that Lord her soul you'll keep. If I should die..." His voice broke and he had to take few breaths before he could finish.  "If I should die before I wake I pray dear lord my soul you'll take so we are joined in Heaven's Gate."
 

         Ray was startled awake by the sound of someone knocking, and almost fell off the sofa he had been laying on. He slowly sat up, for his head was pounding ferociously, and hauled himself to his feet. He stumbled, caught by a sudden vertigo, and then righted himself as the pounding continued and he managed to make it to the door.
         "Knock it off!" he growled of the annoying noisemaker. "I'm coming!" He put his hand to his throbbing temple, then swung the door open and stared at the kind face of Benton Fraser.
         "Hello, Ray." He greeted, his eyes taken in his friend's disheveled state. His clothes looked as though they had been slept in many times over, his hair, well that was always disorganized, but it now looked as though it hadn't been washed in days, and Fraser could smell the distastefully strong scent of alcohol coming from inside the house. Ray blinked, taking in the welcome sight of the dark haired man in dark jeans and a simple blue button down shirt that matched the color of his eyes.
         "What're you doing here?" Ray demanded, pushing away the urge to throw his arms around the Canadian and cry his heart out. He refused to show weakness in front of Fraser, in front of anyone, not the way he had in past. He turned to go back to his nice soft sofa and left the Mountie to close the door as he entered. All the shades were drawn and it was dismally dark after he shut out the warm sunlight.
         "I came to see if I could help." Fraser explained watching Ray lean back and cover his eyes with his arm.
         "You can't," he refused.  "I told you that before, so go home." Fraser started to pick up the many beer and liquor bottles scattered on the floor and table, only to have Ray bark at him to leave them alone. "You're not my damn housekeeper, now go away!"
         "Ray," Fraser began cautiously. "I thought...I am only trying to help."
         "I don't want your help." Ray stated angrily, jumping back off the sofa and moving across to the kitchen to select another beer from the fridge. "What I want is a drink."
         "Ray I think you've had enough." Fraser admonished and received a deathly but bloodshot glare from the blond.
         "Did I ask you for your opinion?" he spat as he twisted off the cap and took a mouthful defiantly. "Go away Fraser." Ray tossed his arm out dismissing the Mountie effectively, as he returned to the sofa. "Go back to you're little island, your wolf and your precious Billy." Fraser bit his lip and tried to hide the hurt that Ray's words had inflicted. He understood his friend was upset, but he couldn't help yearn for the close relationship they once had, where Ray would tell him everything.
         "I know that you said your hands were full with Beth, Ray." He tried again. "I thought I might be able to assist..."
         "You're too late." Ray murmured staring down at the bottle in his hands. "She's gone."
         "Oh Ray." Fraser whispered in disbelief, unprepared for the sudden shock. He knew Beth was very ill, but he never expected her to go so quickly. Ray had not said her time was near when they had spoken on the phone a few days earlier. "I...I am so sorry." Ray shrugged but didn't look up. "Why didn't you call us? When did it happen?" Ray wiped his bloodshot eyes and took another swig of his beer.
         "Two days ago." He stated quietly. "There isn't going to be a funeral, she wants her ashes spread over the ocean." Fraser watched him quietly for a moment, then set his Stetson on the table and settled next to his friend, wanting so much to embrace him, but uncertain if his comfort would be welcomed.
         "Ray, I...I would like to stay if I may." He offered hopefully, he didn't want Ray to be alone at this terrible time.
         "No, Fraser." Ray refused and Fraser closed his eyes against the stabbing pain his rejection caused. "I don't...I don't need you here."
         "You shouldn't be alone, Ray." Fraser stated, determined to keep his voice sounding as normal as possible and not show his distress. Please, Ray. Please let me stay and help you through this, he pleaded silently.
         "I'll be fine." Ray returned unconcerned. "I'm sure you have other important things to do so..."
         "Nothing is more important right now than you, Ray." Fraser assured. "You are my friend and I am concerned that..."
         "I don't need your concern!" Ray exclaimed bolting to his feet and moving toward the sliding glass door that led to the back patio. After only a moment's hesitation Fraser went after him and found him leaning against the rail and staring out at the ocean beyond.
         "I am aware you do not need my concern, Ray." He informed quietly, taking a similar posture beside his friend but not to close that he might crowd the blond. "You have it regardless. I cannot help that I care about you."
         "I don't care that you are about me either." Ray muttered.
         "Yes you do, Ray." Fraser rebuffed quietly as he observed the tiny pulse in Ray's jaw twitch as he clenched in anger.
         "Bastard." He muttered, he hated that the Mountie was right, as usual and Fraser felt his lips twitch.
         "I assure you that both of my parents were legally married before I was born, Ray." He explained calmly.
         "Why can't you just leave me alone, Fraser?" Ray sighed wearily.
         "Because I care about you." The Mountie replied honestly. "I had believed you and I had dealt with this issue months ago, Ray, that we would be friends again, was I mistaken?" For a long moment Ray remained silent and for each second that passed Fraser's fear of being rejected grew.
         "We are friend's, Fraser." He finally confirmed. "I just...I need time to..." He shook his head frustrated that the words he needed to say refused to make it out of his mouth. "Look, I...I haven't had a lot of time to think...to deal with me and you okay. I've had my hands full with Beth these past months."
         "I understand that Ray." Fraser conceded. "That is why I am here. Why won't you let me help?"
         "Help how?" Ray challenged finally meeting Fraser's gaze. "Help with what, Fraser? There's nothing to help me with. Beth is..." His eyes returned to the ocean waves, but not before Fraser saw the tears welling in his eyes. When he spoke again his voice held the pain he was trying to hide. "Beth is gone. She's gone and there isn't going to be a funeral and we don't have any kids to worry about and everything else is done. There's nothing left to do."
         "There is your grief, Ray." Fraser reminded gently. "You shouldn't be alone right now and I only want..." Ray cut him off.
         "Don't Fraser!" he warned shakily. "Do not start me bawlin' again. I don't want to talk about it. I'll deal with my grief in my own way in my own time without any help from anyone else."
         "Is this dealing in your own way, Ray?" Fraser indicated the beer bottle. "Remaining in an alcoholic stupor until the pain can no longer reach you? Drinking so you don't feel the grief, the remorse, until you feel nothing at all?" Ray cast him a startled glance, surprised at the anger in the Mounties's voice. "It doesn't work, Ray, it only makes it that much harder to face when you sober up."
         "What do you know about it?" Ray demanded furiously. "You don't have a f**king clue you self-righteous sonofabitch! Nothing gets to you like it does the rest of us. You don't understand or feel anything of what I'm feeling and you sure as hell have never been drunk so what the hell do you think you're talking about?" Fraser's eyes narrowed and his face hardened into an angry mask.
         "Is that what you think?" he charged, his soft subtle tone opposing his stony expression. "You really think that I don't know how it feels to loose someone dear to you, to grieve for someone you love? You believe I have no concept of emotional pain and anguish, that the atrocities I have witnessed and experienced have had no effect on me whatsoever?"
         "They don't seem to." Ray stated subjectively. "Not like the way others feel things. You're like this super untouchable crime fighter and not on the same level with the rest of us." Fraser shook his head.
         "Ray, just because I have disciplined myself from showing my emotions at every interval does not mean I don't feel things just as strongly and deeply as everyone else." He sighed and his eyes clouded with disappointment. "I had thought you knew me better than that, Ray, no one is closer to me than you."
         "What about Vecchio and you're new best buddy Billy." Ray challenged and Fraser thought he detected a hint of jealousy in the other man's tone.
         "Ray Vecchio will always be my very good friend, he is like a brother to me, his family have practically adopted me." He reasoned. "Of course we are close, we were partners for a long time before..."
         "Before I took over his life and you got the short end of the deal." Ray supplied bitterly.
         "Ray, I have never thought you becoming my partner was anything but a valuable occurrence." Fraser insisted. "I don't know why you still feel you have to compete with Ray Vecchio, even after all this time. You are not he and he is not you."
         "That's obvious." Ray muttered and Fraser sighed.
         "Ray, I care for Ray Vecchio, but I care for you as well." He moved slightly closer. "Why can't you accept that I love you both equally just in different ways."
          Ray shook his head, a wave of guilt preventing him from returning Fraser's probing gaze. He had no right to bitch about Fraser's relationship with Vecchio, or anyone else for that matter. He had written the Mountie off for almost two years and though they were speaking again, he didn't feel he deserved Fraser's care or concern.
         "It doesn't matter." He dismissed quietly.
         "It obviously does matter, Ray." Fraser pressed. "Or you would not have brought it up." He paused for a long moment gathering his thoughts. "I do feel things just as deeply as you do, Ray, even when I do not show them. I know what grief can do to someone, it festers in your heart like a sour tasting concoction, made up of so many different ingredients that you don't know how you can possibly digest it. It makes you angry with the injustice it causes, it hollows out your soul so that all you can feel is the pain." Ray's eyes drifted toward Fraser's and he was shocked at the stark anguish he found in there. "Drinking doesn't solve anything, Ray, it makes you numb so you can no longer feel the suffering, it gives you an excuse to behave badly and reprehensibly, but it doesn't solve the problem, it doesn't make it go away."
         For some terrible reason Ray felt that Fraser was speaking from experience, yet he couldn't bring himself to ask the questions Fraser's words had raised in his mind. He had never seen the Mountie drink, other than the obligatory toast to the queen, and he only ever heard about that not witnessed it. Was Fraser talking about himself? Was the upstanding, morally righteous, champion of justice a recovering alcoholic? The idea completely shattered Ray's mind, blowing away his anger, bitterness and fear in one quick sweep.
         "I...I'm sorry Frase." He offered regretfully. "I...I never meant...I know you feel things, you're not a robot." He turned away again. "I...I just..." he shook his head, words failing him once more. "I don't know. I just don't know anymore." Fraser tentatively placed a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder.
         "If you truly wish to be alone, Ray." He began quietly. "I will leave immediately. I want to do whatever you need for me to do, just please let me help in some small way." Ray was silent. "Do you wish me to go?" Another painfully obvious silence, until Fraser started to move away. Ray reached out and caught his arm, his eyes fearful and uncertain as he met Fraser's gaze.
         "I...stay?" he whispered and Fraser nodded without hesitation, before he turned toward a scratching at the stairs of the patio. Diefenbaker reached the top, sopping wet from his romp in the water below, where Fraser had sent him because he had been uncertain of Ray's reception. Ray turned and the wolf launched himself forward jumping up on Ray to cover his face with wet happy kisses. Instead of pushing the disgracefully soaked animal away, Ray laughed happily and ruffled his ears playfully and Fraser smiled in relief.
 

         Fraser opened his eyes and craned his ear for the subtle sound that had awakened him. For a moment he heard nothing but Dief's snoring at the end of the bed, but then he caught the gentle tinkle of a child's laughter. He threw back the covers and reached for his jeans, ignoring the wolf's snort of inconvenience at being awakened as he rose from the bed. He shrugged into a clean T-shirt and opened the door of the guest bedroom to step out into the hall. The sounds were coming from down stairs so Fraser quietly descended the steps and paused just outside the living room. The only light was coming from the television, which showed scenes of what appeared to be a home movie and a shadowed figure sat unmoving on the sofa with his back the Mountie
        He could hear Beth's voice narrating and assumed she was also operating the camera as she taped Ray coaching baseball practice with his little league team. She was calling out strategy tips and Ray was trying to ignore her, knowing she was trying to bait him. Ray finally dared her to come down from the stands and show them how it was done and she handed over the camera to someone else. They both ended up with the children around them, laughing and teasing, as Ray tried to show Beth the proper way to hold a bat. She laughed at his approach and Fraser smiled in the darkness as he remembered seeing that same quirky stance when Ray had gone undercover on a baseball team in Lieutenant Welsh's home team. Beth taunted him then pitched the ball at him, shock registering on her face as Ray knocked the ball far over their heads.
         The tape seemed to jump for a minute and then Beth was walking toward Ray with a birthday cake glowing with candles. There were a few others around the detective, two or three Fraser suspected were the deputies Ray worked with, the others were perhaps neighbors and a handful of kids that Fraser immediately recognized from the previous film. Everyone was singing Happy Birthday and Ray playing conductor, waving his hands playfully as if directing the song as Beth set the cake before him on the table. On a close up, the cake read Happy Birthday Stan and Julia and Fraser watched Ray reach for a pretty young girl in a pink dress and pigtails. He lifted the child onto his lap as someone asked her how old she was today.
         "I'm seven!" she declared proudly as she stared at the cake with wide excited eyes.
         "And how old are you, Stan?' One of the deputies teased in the same compliant voice that Julia had been asked.
         "Older then seven." Ray returned grinning and set everyone to laughing. "Make your wish, honey." He encouraged the girl and she scrunched her eyes closed in concentration, then opened them and smiled at him.
         "Got it." She informed secretly. "You make your wish." Ray's gaze drifted to Beth's in a tender agreement, and then he closed his eyes.
         "Got it." He told Julia when he opened them a moment later and then they both took a deep breath and blew out all the candles to the cheer and applause of everyone around them.
         "I want the piece with my name!" Julia insisted and a woman, perhaps the child's mother stepped forward and shook her head as Ray accepted the knife from Beth and began to divide the cake.
         "How about half of that, sweetie?" she countered, "You want to save room for ice cream don't you?" Julia deliberated for a moment the finally agreed and gave Ray a kiss on the cheek before slipping off his lap. He smiled and handed her a piece of cake with a fork, as she leaned in closer to him.
         "I'm glad your birthday's the same as mine." She whispered, and Fraser suspected the camera was reasonably close to have picked up the soft tone so well.    "When I grow up I'm gonna be a deputy just like you, Stan." Fraser saw the tears well up in his friend's eyes on camera as he pulled the girl into his arms for a quick embrace.
         "You'll be the best in the county, honey." He assured and she beamed at him, then wandered off to eat her cake as Ray continued to slice the sweet desert and hand them out.
         "You don't have to stand in the shadows, Fraser." Ray's quiet voice came from the sofa and Fraser startled guiltily.
         "I...I didn't mean to impose Ray I just..."
         "It's okay, " Ray assured reaching to mute the video as he waved Fraser in. Despite the dim lighting offered by the television, the Mountie could see the tear steaks on his friend's face as he settled next to him. "I was just watchin' some dorky movies Beth made." He smirked as he glanced back at the screen. "She bought a video camera our first Christmas together and she took that damn thing everywhere. Games, the beach, hell she even caught me sleeping and in the shower." Fraser smiled. "She was like Steven Spielburg on speed, everything could be the next hit movie."
         "She must have enjoyed it." Fraser supposed quietly and Ray nodded. Fraser wanted to ask if there were more movies, perhaps of Ray while he was recovering, all the things Fraser had missed when he believed the detective was dead, but he felt now was not the time.
         "I didn't mean to wake you up." Ray commented.
         "That's all right." Fraser assured quickly. "You couldn't sleep?" Ray shook his head.
         "I don't sleep much anymore." He admitted. "When I do it's not a restful sleep because I'm so used to listening for every sound Beth makes..." he paused. "Made at night." Fraser decided to remain silent, hoping that perhaps Ray would finally start to get some of the things he had been going through off his chest, but the blond must have decided against it for he rose to his feet a moment later.
         "Would you like me to make you some tea or something to help you sleep, Ray?" Fraser offered.
         "No thanks." Ray returned. "I think I'll be good for the night. Again I'm sorry I woke you up."
         "It is not a problem Ray." Fraser stated as he watched Ray walk off toward the stairs, forgetting about the tape still playing on the television. Fraser picked up the remote, turned the volume lower and sat back to watch the remainder of the film. He didn't think Ray would mind, since he had already seen parts of it. There were more scenes of Ray and Beth together, at the beach, at an office party, having a barbecue, fishing, many fun filled memories and Fraser was glad that they were preserved for Ray to view whenever he needed to.
         Finally, after the final scene was played out, Fraser switched off the tape and television and wandered into the kitchen. He was delighted to find some mint tea in one of the cupboards and set about making himself a cup. He was awake now, with so many thoughts and resurrected feelings from watching the video tape that he doubted very much that he would be able to sleep anyway.
         He picked up his cup and headed out to the veranda to settle in the porch swing, the soft sounds of the ocean waves calming his restless spirit. He sipped his tea and thought about Ray, how much he missed being close to a man that he considered his best friend. He remembered how difficult things had been in the beginning, with the tragedy of Ray's death pierced his heart and soul, and he remembered a very important conversation he had with Billy just a few months after they had moved in together.
 
 

         "So, Ben." Billy asked. "You wanna catch a movie?" The Mountie shook his head and continued the tedious procedure of polishing his brown boots. "Com'on, we haven't been out in weeks." In point of fact, Fraser rarely left the apartment other than to walk Diefenbaker or to go to work and Billy was begging to get frustrated with him.
         "I am not interested, thank you anyway." Fraser returned politely.
         "Ben, you need to get out and just relax for awhile." Billy insisted. "It will be fun, honest and maybe we can find a hockey game or something to see later."
         "You go on ahead, Billy." Fraser suggested his attention still on the smooth slow strokes of his hand as they worked the polish into the boots with practiced precision. "I believe I will retire early." Billy swore under his breath and lit a cigarette.
         "You aren't the one who died, Ben." He suddenly, muttered and Fraser's gaze narrowed on him, hiding his hurt.
         "I am aware of that fact, thank you kindly." He returned in his usual passive voice, his expression neutral.
         "Then why are you acting like it was you?" Billy demanded and Fraser returned his attention to his task once more.
         "I simply do not wish to go view a film, Billy." He reminded. "I have an early shift tomorrow and intend to retire early."
         "You're hiding out in this damn apartment because you're afraid to face the real world, Fraser!" Billy challenged and the Mountie knew the use of his last name meant the musician was indeed very angry.
         "I face the real world every day, Billy." He returned unaffected, as he added some more polish to his cloth and returned it to work over the heal and back portion of the boot. "I am a Mountie, my position in the real world is to try and make it a better one in which to live." Billy ground out his cigarette in the ashtray.
         "Bullshit! You're shutting yourself off from everything and everyone that might possibly make you feel any kind of real emotion because you think that should be your punishment for your partner getting killed." Fraser remained silent, which only increased Billy's anger and frustration. "It wasn't your fault, Ben. Why can't you see that? If Ray's death was your responsibility then I'd have to blame myself for Joe blowing his f**king brains out and damnit I will not do that anymore. I won't do it to me, to you or to his memory."
         "Joe is a different story all together, Billy..." Fraser began but Billy cut him off.
         "No the hell it isn't!" he countered. "We both got screwed, Ben. We both lost the person closest to us and we both have regrets over it, but dwelling on it isn't going to change the fact that Joe and Ray are dead and we're never going to see them again." He watched Fraser flinch and moved to crouch in front of him, grabbing the cloth away from the Mountie and tossing it aside as he firmly gripped Fraser's shoulders.
         "Don't..." Fraser began turning his face away but Billy forced him meet his gaze.
         "Do you think I like having his face, Ben?" he demanded and pushed away the sympathy that automatically rose from the pain he witnessed in the deep blue eyes locked to his. "Do you think I enjoy the fact that I remind you of him."
         "Billy, it isn't..." Fraser protested but again Billy interrupted.
         "I see the way you try not to directly look at me, Ben." He stated and watched Fraser's expression pale in shock. "I notice the way you stare at me when you think I'm not looking and you get this terrible sadness in your eyes. I've heard you slip and start to call me by his name and the way you seem disappointed or scolding whenever you see me acting in a way that he never did."
         "I don't mean to hurt you, Billy." Fraser urged. "It isn't something I am conscious of doing, I don't mean to compare..."
         "But you do, Ben." Billy reminded softly, most of his earlier anger flowing out of him in the face of Fraser's sincere concern for his feelings. "I know you can't help it, anymore than I can help looking like him and being who I am. Just because I don't like it doesn't mean I don't understand it." He took a deep breath and released Fraser, moving to settle beside him on the sofa. "But you have to understand too, I know I am not Ray, you are not Joe, but we are friends, right? We're buddies aren't we?' Fraser nodded. "Then let me in, talk to me Ben."
         "I...I..." Fraser stammered and averted his gaze. How he hated his inability to talk about himself. "I cannot express...I do not know how to..." He shook his head frustrated and stood up to move over by the window, his right thumb caressing his eyebrow nervously.
         "Just say anything, Ben." Billy offered, staying where he was so he didn't crowd his roommate. "I don't care what it is, just whatever you think needs to be said."
         "I have nothing to say." Fraser returned quietly and Billy rose then and walked over to him.
         "Say it, Ben." He encouraged. "Admit that Ray is dead." Fraser's complexion paled but he remained staring out the window.
         "I know that." He murmured.
         "Say it." Billy repeated insistently. "I have never heard you say it, not and believe it. Here I'll go first." Fraser's gaze slid toward the blond and he saw the bleakness in the gray blue eyes and the pulse jumping in his lower jaw. "Joe Dick is dead. There I said it." He had though Fraser could see that it wasn't easy for him.  "I'll say it again. My buddy Joe Dick, whom I probably loved more than anyone else in the world, took a gun, put it to his head and blew his f**king brains all over the street in front of a rolling camera crew. He is dead and he is never coming back." A tear slipped out of one eye and rolled down his cheek but Billy ignored it. "You're turn."
         "I can't." Fraser shook his head; he wasn't as brave as Billy seemed to be.
         "Yes you can, Ben." Billy assured. "Say it. Say my partner, my best friend Ray Kowalski is dead." Fraser shook his head and bit down on his lower lip to keep it from trembling.
         "I know that." He muttered.
         "Say it Ben."
         "No." Fraser refused, pulling some of his slipping control back into place. "There is no point in stating the obvious and..."
         "You're a coward, Benton Fraser." Billy accused.
         "I am not a coward."
         "Then say it."
         "It serves no purpose to..."
         "Say it."
         "No."
         "Say it, Ben."
         "He is dead, all right." Fraser growled, surprised that his control was slipping once again and so quickly.
         "Who is dead?" Billy demanded. Fraser moved away form the window and headed for the front door, but Billy got their first and blocked his exit.
         "Billy stop this!"
         "Tell me who is dead, Ben."
         "You will be if you don't let me pass." Fraser warned and Billy smirked as he lounged against the door undeterred.
         "Are you threatening me with bodily harm, Benton?" Fraser suddenly seemed to realize what he had just said and he blushed ashamed.
         "No." he denied quickly. "No of course not. I don't know why I said that." He raised a hand to his throbbing temple. "Please, Billy. Can't we let it go."
         "No, I don't think we can." Billy replied honestly. "Just say it, Ben." Fraser took a shaky breath and returned to the sofa.
         "I have said it." He sighed defeated as he placed his face in his hands.
         "No you haven't." Billy countered.
         "Ray is....Ray is..." Fraser closed his eyes tightly against the wave of dizziness and nausea that threatened to overtake him. "Ray Kowalski, my p...partner and f...friend is...dead." A tear slipped out from under his thick lashes as he continued to shake his head back and forth. "Ray is...dead and he...he is...I will never share a m...meal with him or...or tackle crime w...with him or...or see his smile or have his...his arms hold me ever...ever again."
         Billy was prepared for the emotional flood of tears that engulfed the Mountie; he had already faced that same wave and managed to weather it. He settled beside Fraser and pulled him into his arms, rocking him gently as though he were a child as the Mounties's body was racked with painful sobbing.
         "It's okay, Ben." He assured soothingly. "It will be okay." His own tears flowed unchecked down his face as he continued to comfort the shaking man in his arms.
         "God I m...miss him, Billy." Fraser whispered brokenly. "I let him down, I...I couldn't save him."
         "It's not your fault, Ben." Billy reminded gently. "Please believe me it isn't your fault."
         "I...I love him so much." Fraser admitted as he allowed his arms to go around the slimmer man and pull him closer. "He...he was so full of life and so...so kind and he...he made me feel so...so..."
         "Needed?" Billy offered and Fraser nodded.
         "I needed him too." He admitted. "So much more than I ever allowed him to know."
         "I need you too Ben." Billy stated quietly. "There are a lot of people who still need you. Please don't give it all up just to honor the memory of someone who you can no longer help." Fraser could say nothing to that, he just continued to cry on Billy's shoulder for a long time after.
 

         Fraser heard Ray's cry the instant his foot touched the second landing of the house and he hurried for his friend's bedroom. He knocked on the door but received no answer, only the heart wrenching sobs of the man inside. He pushed the door open and stepped into the room, noticing that the wind had picked up outside and a heavy rain had started to fall, blowing the curtains back and forth wildly against the sill.
         He turned toward the body writhing in the large waterbed and immediately made that his top priority. Tears streamed down over pale, drawn cheeks from under tightly close eyelids as Ray cried out once more.
         "Beth! Beth don't leave...Fraser! Fraser I'm sorry come back I..." he broke into an incoherent mutter as Fraser settled next to him and gripped his arms firmly.
         "Ray. Ray! Wake up, Ray!" Fraser insisted.
         "So dark." Ray cried fearfully. "I can't see, I'm cold." Ray truly was shivering violently and Fraser moved away to close the window. "No! Leave it open!" Fraser turned back and found Ray staring at him with stark terror. "I can't breath if you close it."
         "I won't close it all the way, Ray." He assured, lowering it to within an inch of the sill. "Rain is coming in and your floor is getting wet." Ray seemed appeased with that and he turned away though Fraser wasn't sure if the man was actually awake or the fear of the window being closed reached him in his dream.
         "Ray are you all right?' he asked returning to the bed and touching Ray's shoulder, watching him flinch away from him.
         "Don't look at me." He whimpered hiding his face from the Mountie by burring it in the pillow next to him. "I'm a monster, don't let them see me."
         "Ray, you are not a monster." Fraser assured forcing the man to turn back and he realized that he was still trapped in his nightmare. Fraser cradled Ray's face between his hands and gently caressed the tear stained cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "You're fine Ray. You're very attractive, you're beautiful in fact, but you are not a monster."
         "Beth?" Ray's sleepy voice questioned as his hand rose up to cradle Fraser's neck and pull him closer, possibly for a kiss. Fraser resisted.
         "Ray, it's Fraser." He reminded gently, trying not to think of the fingers that were softly stroking the sensitive skin of his neck. Ray was dreaming obviously and perceived Fraser to be Beth, the Mountie had to be careful not to alarm him too much while he was still in the precarious state.
         "Fraser?" Ray asked confused, though he still was not quite awake. "Stay Fraser, don't go."
         "I am right here, Ray." The Canadian assured. "You were having a dream, you are okay now. I'll let you get some rest." Thinking the detective would easily slip into a more peaceful slumber now that his demons had been thwarted, Fraser was surprised by the hand that shot out and grabbed his as he rose from the bed.
         "Stay Fraser." Ray pleaded and this time his eyes were open and he was staring at the Mountie with an intense fear. "I...I can't sleep alone, Fraser, not when it's dark. Please?" Fraser hesitated only a moment before nodding and settled back on the bed. Ray pulled back the covers and he crawled between the sheets.
         "Is this better Ray?' Fraser asked quietly noticing that the blond moved as close as he could to the Mountie without actually touching then shyly laid his palm over Fraser's upper arm, needing some form of contact.
         "Okay." Ray murmured as he allowed his eyes to close. "This is...I'll be okay now. I'm just...I need you here okay?" Fraser was sure that Ray had no idea how much those simple words meant to him and he placed his other hand over the top of Ray's. Ray opened his eyes once briefly and his eyes thanked Fraser before he drifted off to sleep.
 

         When Fraser awoke the following morning, he was alone in the waterbed and he tried to swallow his disappointment. He had not heard Ray get up and the impropriety that he may have over slept had him bolting upwards and hurrying toward his own room to shower and change. At his bedroom window he heard barking outside and he pushed back the curtains to see Ray and Diefenbaker playing in the surf. Ray was tossing sticks and the wolf was fetching them. It reminded Fraser so much of Billy and Diefenbaker that he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. Now he was comparing Ray with Billy, what a tangled web he weaved. Shaking his head he turned away to get dressed.
         When Fraser appeared down stairs he heard two voices coming from the kitchen. Ray's and an oddly familiar child's voice.
         "My Mom said I shouldn't be bothering you but I said you wouldn't mind a visit from me, right Stan?" the girl was saying and Fraser recognized the voice as that belonging to the girl in the video he had watched last night. He was relieved he had decided to tidy up the kitchen and living area of all the alcohol bottles from yesterday since the child was now visiting.
         "No, you're welcome to come and see me any time, Julia. We are neighbors." Ray assured as Fraser hesitated from walking in. He didn't want to interrupt, but it was also impolite to eavesdrop.
         "My Mom said that Beth is with my Daddy in Heaven, is that true?" Julia asked with a child's innocence and Fraser could hear the sadness in his friend's voice.
         "I think she is." He admitted. "I hope so anyway."
         "Are you going to go away now?' Julia asked concerned. "Because my Mom said you probably won't stay here without Beth and that you might go back to be with your Mom and dad."
         "I don't know yet what I am going to do, honey." He answered truthfully. "I haven't decided."
        "C...can I go with you if you go, Stan?" she asked hopefully. "I promise to be real good and I can cook and clean and everything for you, honest."
         "Sweetheart, won't you miss your Mum and your friends here if you go away with me?"
         "But I want to be with you, Stan." She protested. "My Mom has two other kids so she won't miss me and I don't have all that many friends other than you and Jo-Jo." There was a long pause before Ray answered.
         "Julia, I know your mom would miss you terribly if you went away because I would miss you if you were my little girl."
         "I want to be your little girl, Stan." She urged as Fraser finally made the decision to enter the kitchen, for there was really no where else he could go without being heard or seen. Ray glanced over at him briefly, before reaching down to lift the little girl, who wore a flower colored dress, and up onto the counter top so they were closer to ye level.
         "You'll always be my little girl, sweetheart." He promised her. "Our birthdays are on the same day that makes us special, right?" She hesitated before nodding. "So no matter where I go or where you go we will always be together in here." he tapped his chest where his heart would be.
         "But if you go away, my Mom might marry Henry and I don't like Henry." She stated. "Why can't you marry my Mom then you could be my Daddy." Fraser watched the pain filter across Ray's face as he prepared himself a cup of tea.
         "It isn't that simple Julia." He finally managed as a knock sounded at his door and he glanced at the Mountie, who nodded and went to answer it. A woman with short brown hair and large pretty eyes set in a dark round face stared up at him.
         "Um...hi." She greeted curious. "I...I'm Mrs. Peterson I...I was wondering if..."
         "She's right here Cora." Ray announced walking out with Julia in his arms.         "This is my friend From Canada Benton Fraser." Fraser smiled and shook her hand.
         "It is a pleasure to meet you." He offered noticing the way her eyes lit up at his smile.
         "Oh my, yes..." she stammered. "I...it's very nice...to meet you I mean." She dragged her eyes away to look at Julia who as huddled into Ray's shoulder. "Julia I told you not to bother Stan today, didn't I?"
         "She's okay." Ray assured as the little girl coiled her arms around him in a death like grip. "I don't mind. She can come here any time she wants."
         "You spoil her, Stan." She scolded gently and Ray shrugged.
         "Somebody's gotta do it, why not me?" He knew that Cora didn't have much time for her children because she was holding down two jobs to support her family.
         "Come with me Julia, let Stan visit with his company." She instructed and the girl obediently released Ray as he set her on her feet and went to her mother. "Henry is coming by for lunch and he might take us all to a movie."
         "I hate Henry!" Julia fussed. "He always smells like fish."
         "He works hard on the shore lines, Julia." Her mother admonished taking her hand and smiling at Ray and Fraser. "We're sorry to interrupt your stay." Julia shook her hand free and held it out to Fraser, who kindly enveloped it in his.
         "I didn't say hello, so hello." She stated. "Now I gotta say good bye, so goodbye." Fraser's lips twitched and he matched her solemn expression.
         "It was a pleasure meeting you Julia. I hope you will come for another visit before I go so we can properly get aquatinted." Julia beamed at him and tossed her mother a look that said she knew where she was wanted. Cora bit her lip and tried not to roll her eyes as her daughter hugged Ray goodbye then turned on her little heal and walked out. Cora threw them another apologetic smile and followed her daughter.
         "Hungry?" Ray asked suddenly as they headed back to the kitchen and then rushed to catch kettle that was now boiling. He yelped as he forgot to grab a mitt before putting his hand to it and Fraser was beside him immediately pulling him toward the faucet.
         "Ray, let me see." The Mountie insisted keeping hold of his friend's hand even as Ray tried to pull away.
         "It's fine." He hissed. "It's just a stupid burn." Fraser held his hand under the faucet and let the cold water rush over the reddening skin.
         "Do you have any butter?' Fraser inquired and Ray shrugged.
         "Probably in the fridge." He returned quietly. He was angry with himself for being so stupid, angrier still to have done it in front of Fraser. The Mountie pulled open the refrigerator door and was startled by the assortment of Tupperware and casserole dishes he found there. Ray shrugged gain. "Day after Beth died everybody started bringing me food, guess they knew I couldn't cook." His attempt at levity was lost on Fraser who noticed none of the dishes had been touched, which mean most likely that Ray had not eaten since his lover's death. He retrieved the butter and moved over to spread it on Ray's hand, wishing h had brought his ointment from upstairs.
         "That's good Fraser." Ray finally decided the stinging in his hand was just a dull throb now as he rinsed his palm once more then wiped it dry with a towel.
         "Ray, when was the last time you ate?" Fraser asked watching him intently.
         "Dunno." Ray returned as he reached inside and grabbed a beer. "Not hungry myself, but you fix yourself something, okay Buddy?" Fraser shook his head as Ray turned and walked out to the back patio as he did the day before, then the Mountie began searching the fridge for something to prepare.
         "Ray?" he inquired a short while later as he stepped out onto the patio with two plates of food and two glasses of juice on a tray and set them on the small dinette situated in the corner. "I think you should eat something. There is plenty of food to chose from, won't you at least try something?"
         "Sure Fraser, whatever." He sighed and settled opposite the Mountie at the table. He set his half-finished beer next to his juice and picked at the baked chicken and vegetables Fraser had heated. Diefenbaker found them and settled at Ray's feet, for once not begging for the food he saw on the table. Perhaps the wolf realized Ray needed it more than he did. Determined not to let silence strain between them again Fraser made conversation.
         "How did you sleep last night, Ray?"
         "Okay I guess." His friend replied, unwilling to admit that once Fraser had climbed in with him he had slept like a baby. "Sorry for...well for being stupid about sleeping alone."
         "That isn't stupid, Ray." Fraser assured quickly. "You had just had a nightmare, it's perfectly normal to not want to be alone afterwards." Ray shrugged.
         "You that way?" he asked. "Messed up after a nightmare I mean?"
         "Not usually, no." Fraser admitted, although he was the one who had been blinded and huddled in root cellar for three days before help came either. Fraser could understand Ray' need to not be lone, his need for fresh air, especially since he was already claustrophobic before any of the other things concerning Victoria even happened.
         "Yah, well, I guess I got used to Beth being there, you know, when I woke up." Ray dismissed.
         "Ray," Fraser began apprehensively. "I...I wouldn't mind...well...that is..." He set his fork down and cracked his neck uncomfortably, his eyes darting everywhere but the person opposite him. "If...if you do prefer not to...well to be alone at night, I...I mean Dief and I would be...we'd completely understand if you...."
         "Thanks anyway Frase." Ray replied letting him off the hook. "But I'm not a child you have to coddle because he gets a few bad dreams. I'll be fine."
         "If...if you're sure Ray?" Fraser offered leaving the option open.
         "I'm sure." He stated. "When are you headed back to Canada?" Fraser was unprepared for the question and tried to hide his dismay.
         "I...I hadn't really planned to return at any given time, Ray." He informed. "I have a few months holiday and leave acquired and had not thought about putting a time limit on my stay before that."
         "Oh." Was all Ray said and Fraser stared down at his food, he had suddenly lost his appetite as well. Perhaps Ray really didn't want him here and thought that he was intruding. Granted the American had told him to get out when he first arrived, but he had asked him to stay afterwards.
         "Did...do you wish me to leave Ray?" Fraser finally asked, hoping his fear didn't show on his face or could be heard in his voice. He didn't want to leave now, he wanted to stay and help his friend. It was a long time before Ray spoke and then he didn't directly answer Fraser's question.
         "Do whatever you want Fraser." He decided as he rose from the table. "I'm still tired, I think I'll take a nap." Fraser nodded slowly, disturbed and disappointed that Ray had not asked him to stay.
         "Certainly Ray." He replied quietly. "You should rest."
 

         Fraser made himself busy cleaning and storing the left over food back in the refrigerator in an orderly fashion. The house itself was surprisingly tidy for the most part, so it didn't give him something to do for long. He decided to give himself a tour, since he had never been to Ray's new home, and he and Dief wandered about the three-bedroom cape house. There was a bathroom down stairs as well as one upstairs in the main hall. Fraser recalled seeing one connected to the Master bedroom as well, where Ray slept.
         The living area was large and spacious, with a wood burning fireplace taking up one corner, a vast picture window with heavy rose drapes and a cushioned window seat to settle on and stare out at the village. Matching ivory and rose sofa and chairs adorned the center of the room, placed specifically for conversation of to view the large screen entertainment center. The hard wood floors through out the house were accented with green, gray and dusty rose floor rugs placed in various areas to contrast the colors about them.
        A long breakfast bar of green marble divided the kitchen and living area with glass shelving over it that held an assortment of ornaments and trinkets. Fraser noticed there were many sculptures of whales, no doubt Beth's passion. The kitchen was green tile with light pine cabinets sporting green marble handles and forest green trim. It was a modern area with all the normal utilities and off of the kitchen was a small dining area with a long round oak table, carved matching chairs with rose and green seat cushions. A china cabinet held a pretty patterned dish set along with some crystal.
         The kitchen led out to the back patio by a sliding glass door. The patio took up most of the backside of the house and had steps going down to the beach below. There was a barbecue, the covered patio table and chairs and a few hanging plants. Two steps down from the main deck was a hot tub, which was currently covered and had a privacy screen built around it.
         Back in the main portion of the house, Fraser found a room off of the living area that was separated by two large sliding oak doors. This appeared to be an office. He stepped inside, his gaze immediately resting on Ray's roll top desk and flood of memories engulfed him. He ran his fingers over the desk tenderly, noticing how cluttered it still looked with letters and bills and what not, and he smiled.
         A computer desk and accompanying computer was off to one side, with a tall file cabinet. No doubt that was most likely Beth's, for Ray was never one for computers. He frowned, however, he didn't seem to know much about Ray anymore, so that assumption could be invalid, the American had changed over the past two years. Two small curtained windows held the outside wall, shading the office from the outside by a large oak tree in front. There were some framed photo's placed strategically about the walls, mostly of Ray and Beth, Ray and his parents, and Fraser was shocked to find on of himself and Francesca with Ray, at the 27TH precinct.
        There were others that Fraser did not recognize. He spied Ray's stereo and CD collection in the corner and went to view it's familiar contents. There were so many extra buttons for speakers, he didn't dare turn it on, for he noticed small speakers had been mounted in various corners of the house and he didn't want to blast Ray out of his slumber accidentally.
         Fraser finally made his way upstairs, already having seen his room and the spare bathroom, he avoided the master so he wouldn't wake Ray and opened the door next to it. He was therefore startled to find the detective curled up on the white hospital bed, holding on to his dream catcher that Fraser had given him and a picture of himself and Beth.
        A quick sweep of the room showed a baby monitor on the small night stand, no doubt the other was in Ray's bedroom, posters of whales and sea life adorned the walls, a cloth plaque they had brought back from Newfoundland, a porta-potty and a wheelchair sat I one corner. A cozy looking rocking chair was situation close to the bed, no doubt where Ray spent most of his time watching over the dying woman. On every other available surface there were stuffed animals and bouquets of dying flowers.
         The scene tore at Fraser's heart as he glanced back at his friend who had clearly cried himself to sleep. Ray had put so much effort into making this room a happy one for Beth, with all the things she loved surrounding her, now it just seemed tragic and empty. He shook his head remorsefully and quietly shut the door. He paused by the master bedroom, and despite the prickling of his conscience that it wasn't polite to invade someone else's privacy, he couldn't help the curiosity that had peaked.
         He stepped inside and closed the door. The bed was still unmade and he set about restoring it to order. On the night stands were matching whale lamps that sported the same scene as the heavy blue and green comforter on the bed. Sure enough a baby monitor was on one of the stands, along with a small King James Bible, and a telephone. On the other stand were two framed pictures of him and Beth and the Kowalski's. Ray's holster, the gun no doubt secured inside the nigh stand drawer, and a small bundle of familiar looking letters.
         Fraser picked up the bundle and noticed they were the ones he had sent to Beth. They appeared to be well gone over, perhaps read several times each, and the idea that it had been Ray reading them overwhelmed and slightly concerned Fraser. He knew that Beth had not been telling Ray of their correspondence before the couple had come to Newfoundland, so had she showed them to him after their return or had Ray simply found them on his own? They had all been placed in chronological order and tied effectively with a small ribbon, Beth or Ray's doing he wasn't sure.
         He heard a sound behind him and turned to find Ray in the doorway, staring at him with a dark expression. Oh dear. He hastily replaced the letters and moved toward the glowering American, searching for the right thing to say. Well, Ray, since you won't talk to me anymore I thought it would be okay to go through your things and find out for myself what might be going on with you. That was the truth, in fact, but Fraser knew if he voiced his thoughts he would probably get punched.
         "Ray I..." he began but Ray was already moving away from the door and headed down stairs, so Fraser hurried after him. "Ray I didn't mean..." Oh yes you did Fraser you knew exactly what you were doing before you went into the room. "I was only..." spying on my best friend and meddling in his affairs without permission. Fraser groaned he wished his conscience wasn't so annoyingly correct all the time.
         "Fraser I think you should leave." Ray stated as he entered the kitchen and pulled a soda from the fridge. Despite the sudden plunge of Fraser's heart at his friend's words, he was at least glad Ray hadn't taken another beer.
         "Ray I didn't mean to...well I was just...I went in to make the bed." He blushed at the half-truth and tried not to flinch at the hard penetrating stare Ray cast at him.
         "I don't care what you were doing, Fraser." He returned simply. "You can make my bed, sweep my floor and do my dishes to your hearts content, it doesn't make a damn bit of difference to me. You're just like everyone else, you think I can't take care of myself."
         "Oh no, Ray!" he denied quickly. "That isn't it at all, truly. I...I just wanted to help." Oh please don't let m have ruined my last chance with him, he pleaded silently. I never meant to hurt him.
         "Fraser, go home." Ray suggested wearily as he once more returned to the back patio to gaze out at the sea, that obviously was his thinking place. Fraser's mind frantically searched for a way to make Ray change his mind, he knew the American was within his rights to ask him to leave, but Fraser wasn't prepared to give up on their friendship yet.
         "I...I don't want to, Ray." He admitted quietly as he followed him to the patio, but retained a good distance between them. "Please let me stay, I promise I..."
         "Why is it so important to you to be here?" Ray demanded angrily turning on him. "Why can't you understand that I...I don't want you here." He regretted his words instantly as he witnessed the desolate anguish in the Mounties's beautifully blue eyes.
         "Truly, Ray?" he inquired in a voice that was far from steady. Ray couldn't force the lie to his lips, so he just nodded and turned away. When Fraser spoke once again his voice was endearingly soft and calm, though Ray knew he was fighting for control. "I...I am sorry to have burdened you with my concern, Ray. I...I'll leave right away."
         Ray didn't turn back as he heard Fraser return inside, knowing if he did he would only ask him to stay. He continued to stare out at the waves that beckoned him, it would be so easy to just walk into the ocean and drown himself. Then he wouldn't feel the despair or the loneliness that had haunted him so often. Would his life never be truly good? Would nothing every last for him?
         He heard Diefenbaker whining inside and Fraser's firm rebuttal and he knew that the Mountie had packed what little he had brought with him and was preparing to leave. He wondered if they would come and say goodbye to him, not that he deserved it, but he couldn't help hoping to see them once again before they too were gone from his life.
         As if my magic Beth's scolding voice echoed in his ears. Stop pushing everyone away, Stan, you are not superman. You are allowed to receive comfort, you don't have to be strong all the time. I don't want Fraser to think I can't get on alone, Beth, he voiced silently. I can't stand that he might think I'm weak. You silly fool, he's your best friend. Don't punish him for your insecurity, he loves you. He only wants to be a part of your life. It's too late, he's leaving and I don't blame him. As usual I suck, I screwed up. It's never to late darling.
         "Ray?" Fraser's voice interrupted from behind him and Ray turned. "I...we're leaving now." The Mountie looked so defeated that Ray had to quell the urge to throw himself over the railing as punishment for hurting a man that had done nothing but care about him. With a sigh, he walked over and grabbed Fraser's knapsack, slinging it over his shoulder.
         "Why do you listen to me, Fraser?" he demanded impatiently as he moved past the startled Canadian and headed for the stairs to return Fraser's bag to the spare room, knowing the Mountie would be to confused not to follow. "You know I can't control what comes out of my mouth half the time, just ignore anything I might say now or in the future okay?"
         "You...you don't want us to go, Ray?" Fraser asked hesitantly as Ray dropped the bag by the bed.
         "Of course I don't buddy." He replied facing him. "I'm just being an ass, pay no attention okay?" Fraser allowed himself a small smile and nodded, relief flooding over him, mixed with guilt to be adding to Ray's stress.
         "Ray, I truly did not mean to..." he began and Ray waved a hand at him and headed back downstairs.
         "Forget about it okay, subject is closed." He informed as Fraser followed and Dief happily greeted them at the end of the stairs, also no doubt pleased to be staying. "Let's eat."
 

         Fraser spied the videotape on the lower shelf of the glass coffee table and glanced at the label in Beth Botrell's neat handwriting. It said simply a new beginning and Fraser was compelled to pop it into the machine. He felt a tinge of guilt and paused before pressing the play button. This was essentially invading Ray and Beth's privacy, yet...the Mountie yearned to know more about the time he missed with his friend, perhaps it would help him understand Ray better. He had already upset ray with snooping in his bedroom yesterday and almost had been forced to leave because of it. However Ray had gone out to run some errands and he knew the deputy wouldn't return for another hour or more. He finally decided and sat back to watch the tape.
         "Stan darling," Beth Botrell greeted as she sat in front of the video camera. "I know you hated me recording you during this past year, but I think you should know all the things you overcame, so you can see for yourself how strong and determined you are. I love you and I want this to be therapy for you, which is why I tried to make it a little bit of fun. I know it will be painful, but when you are ready we'll sit and watch this tape together."
         The first scene was obviously Beth's first try with the camera, for the majority of it was out of focus or moving so much Fraser found it hard to get a clear picture. Further into the film, he saw what he assumed was Ray, his face and the majority of his head was bandaged and he was in a hospital bed.
         "Time for the unveiling." Beth narrated dramatically from behind the camera as the doctor started to remove the bandages. "This is your first plastic surgery Ray, I probably won't tape all of them, but I think this one is important."
         Fraser heard his own harsh intake of breath as he witnessed the horrible scars on Ray's face. Beth had mentioned that he had been burned by acid and even with the plastic surgery, cruel gutted scars ran from the side of his left temple, down over that entire side of his face and across part of his nose and mouth to the right cheek and law line. His lips were colorless and seemed to be turned in a nasty sneer and one eyelid was still heavily hooded over his left eye.
         "My God!" he whispered his hand going to his mouth and his heart rising to his throat.
        He fast forwarded through the doctor's comments, unable to listen to the extent of the damage that had been done, the sight of it was hard enough for Fraser to witness. Another scene showed Ray, obviously after a few more surgeries, for the scaring wasn't as harsh as before, working with a tall brunette learning to speak. The tutor would say a few words and then Ray would attempt to repeat them, his tone uneven his volume just above a strangled whine. Fraser noticed that as the tape progressed Ray's speech improved and he also almost always had some type of ball or palm action exercise in his hands.
         Through out it all, it was obvious that Ray had been very dependent on Beth, yet during his therapy sessions and surgeries he seemed determined to collaborate as many physical exercises as he could to improve.  He was physically blind, yet he walked as often as he could, with Beth at his side, as well as doing his voice exercises and always with building up the muscles in his wrists and fingers. At one point Beth caught Ray with his shirt off and the bruises and scaring that was evident around his torso and back made Fraser flinch. Ray had grown a beard and mustache and had allowed his hair to grow, making him look less and less like the Ray Kowalski Fraser knew.
         There were some parts that Fraser found very difficult to watch, such as Ray getting frustrated with being unable to see his food on the plate, despite Beth telling him where it was by the clock hands method. He threw quite a few tantrums in the beginning it seemed, especially whenever Beth made a reference to Fraser. It hurt to know that his very name caused Ray so much distress The Mountie wondered if Ray had known how much Beth had taped him, but considered it doubtful from his behavior that she would have told him honestly.
         He saw in the following scene, Mrs. Kowalski handing her son a small square box and he in turn reaching for Beth's hand. He was obviously becoming comfortable with his blindness at this point, for he retrieved the Irish wedding band from it's throne and placed it on Beth's left ring finger. Beth was over come by emotion as he told her how much he loved her and they kissed and held each other tenderly. Fraser was surprised to hear Mr. Kowalski's voice in the background, perhaps behind the camera, telling Ray not to let this one get away.  Fraser suddenly recognized the ring as the one Ray now wore on his left pinky, he had noticed it the first day he arrived, for other than his bracelet it was the only jewelry the blond wore. The tape ended after that and Fraser stood to put it back where he found it.
 

         Ray stood on the deck of the patrol boat that the sheriff had loaned him for the day as Fraser drove further out to sea, waiting for a signal from his friend to stop. It came a few minutes later, where they could just barely see the village, but Ray and Beth's cape house stood high on the hill like a beacon welcoming them.
         Fraser switched off the engine then moved to stand beside his friend, who held the small silver urn that contained Beth Botrell's ashes. The Mountie for once swallowed his need to break the strained silence, waiting for Ray to do whatever he needed to do.
         "I miss her, Frase." Ray sighed as he stared down at the clear blue depths below them. "She cheated death so many times, but it finally caught up with her I guess." Fraser placed a comforting hand on Ray's shoulder.
         "None of us can escape it forever, Ray." He admitted quietly. "You and I have cheated it many times ourselves, haven't we?" Ray nodded. "What are you going to do now, Ray? Will you stay on here?"
         "I told Jack I'd stay until they got a replacement anyway." Ray replied. "Then, I don't know. I can't stay in that house, not with Beth gone."
         "You could come home with me, Ray." Fraser offered kindly. "Until you decide what you want to do."
         "I don't think that'd be a good idea, Fraser." Ray refused gently. "Thanks anyway."
         "It wouldn't be any trouble, Ray." The Mountie assured. "We have plenty of room and Billy won't mind, he is gone a lot of the time anyway and..."
         "It's not..." Ray began then shook his head. "It's not a good idea, Fraser. Trust me." Fraser frowned. Granted, he and Ray hadn't returned to the closeness they had once had, but they were making progress, or so Fraser thought.
         "Do you still not feel comfortable around me, Ray?' he asked concerned and Ray stared at him surprised.
         "No, no." he assured quickly. "You're fine, Fraser, really. It isn't you it's me. Things have...changed and I have to figure out how I am going to deal with those changes."
         "But must you do it alone, Ray?' Fraser inquired and Ray felt pleased that the Canadian was so eager to help him so concerned for him.
         "Yeah, I think I do, Benton Buddy." He confirmed. "We...you and me have been doing better, and I'm glad we, well got back friends again." He shrugged and turned to stare out at the sea again, his fingers caressing the urn between his fingers. "I...I just need to figure me out, you know? I thought I knew who I was, even though I didn't like that person too much, when I got assigned to be your partner."
         "That was a very good day for both of us, Ray." Fraser offered. "I am glad that we became partners."
         "I know, and so am I." Ray agreed. "But you changed who I thought I was, made me like myself better. I liked who I was when I was around you. Then...well then came Victoria and she changed me too." He took a deep breath as though gathering his thoughts. "I was afraid to be anything like the person I was after that, but a leopard can't change his spots I guess, because there are still things I recognize from the old me. Beth changed me some; I was different with her. Just like I was different with Stell."
         "Ever person adapts to their environment, Ray." Fraser explained but Ray shook his head.
         "Not...it isn't my adapting, Fraser." He shrugged. "I just need to figure out who I am." They stood silently for a moment.
         "Can I help in any way?" the Mountie finally asked unable to resist. Ray hesitated then nodded; though he didn't meet his gaze.
         "Yes." He replied. "Tell me about your relationship with Billy." Fraser was startled by the question.
         "My...I don't understand. We are friends, roommates..." he stated.
         "Are you more, Fraser?' Ray suddenly demanded. "Please understand I am not condemning you either way I just...I need to know if there is more between the two of you."
        "If you are asking if Billy and I are lovers, Ray...I cannot answer that without betraying a code of chivalry and a trust of a good friend."
         "Beth thought you two were." Ray remarked. "She never said anything outright, just the way she talked about you both."
         "Ray, Why...why do you need to know something like that?" Fraser asked. "What possible bearing could it..."
         "I guess I can use your code as well as you can, Fraser." Ray returned. "I can't tell you why. I just thought I would ask."
         "Ray...are you saying that you...that you think I...?" Ray could tell he had confused Fraser, and since they would be leaving tomorrow, he decided to be honest while he had the chance.
         "I'm not thinking or insinuating either way, Frase." He assured. "I...I have been having feelings, some of them I don't understand and some of them, frankly scare the hell out of me."
        "A...about me?" Fraser asked surprised and Ray nodded.
         "I'm not pushing you for anything, Frase." He replied. "I wouldn't know what to push for and I certainly wouldn't want to step in the way of you and Billy. I am not saying I want...that kind of relationship with you, because I don't, I just am very confused I think and that's why I need to go away and think for a while, alone."
         "Please reconsider, Ray." Fraser requested. "Don't leave me again, I...I don't think I could bear it."
         "I'm not leaving you, buddy." He assured. "I just need time to think."
         "How much time, Ray?" Fraser asked quietly. "We...we've already lost so much time between us that could have been...I...I guess that I am afraid you will shut me out again, Ray."
         "I won't do that." Ray denied. "I promise we will still be friends no matter what I decide." He took a deep breath as a gentle breeze seemed to drift around them, then opened the top of the urn and allowed the ashes of Beth Botrell to filter across his fingers and down to the blue ocean waves below. Fraser bowed his head and quietly began reciting the 23rd psalm as Stan watched the essence of his lover float freely over the cool waters toward the setting son of the horizon. They were both quiet for a long time, Stan saying his goodbyes in silent tribute, Fraser queeling his sadnness for his friend and simultaneously considering their earlier conversation.
         "The answer is no, Ray."He said suddenly and Ray glanced at him surprised.
         "What was the question?" he asked grinning bewildered.
        "A...about myself and....and Billy." Fraser finally managed as he caressed his eyebrow with his right thumb. "We have never...we are not...in that type of relationship."
         "Frase, you didn't have to tell me that." Ray sighed, hiding his relief. "I understand your code and I..."
         "Does it make a difference, Ray?" Fraser interrupted.
         "I difference in what, Fraser?"
         "Must you still...go away alone...to...to think?" Ray frowned. He hadn't meant to pressure Fraser into telling him, yet the Mountie seemed hopeful his revelation would make Ray reconsider his decision.
         "Yeah, Fraser." He replied regretfully. "I still do, but I appreciate you telling me." Fraser fallen expression was his undoing and he found himself placing a hand on the Mountie' shoulder. "Listen to me, Fraser. This is something I have to do for me. It has nothing to do with you and me being friends. We are gonna be friends, we might even become closer once I have had time to think. I am not gonna desert you again, not...not like I did before." Fraser stared deep into his eyes and believed him.

 Stanley Kowalski walked into the squadroom of the 27TH precinct and glanced around at the familiar surroundings before him. Hardly anything had changed, the bull pen was still busy with all sort of people being booked for all sort of reasons, the chatter of statement questions, cops calling for files and the incessant phone ring was like music to his ears. He had not realized how much he had missed all of this. His walk down memory lane was interrupted as another warm body hit his and he stared down into the shining eyes of Francesca Vecchio.
 "Frannie!" He exclaimed in delight squeezing her tight and swinging her around. He'd especially missed the talkative woman, even though they corresponded often it just wasn't the same. "Oh Frannie I missed you."
 "Oh Stan!" she smiled kissing his cheek as he set her down on her feet. "I missed you too, ya pain in the ass."
 "Really?" he teased and she smirked.
 "Don't let it go to yer head, Kowalski." She slapped at his chest playfully then blushed when he bent to kiss her checks affectionately.
"Hey Ray...er I mean Stanley." Dewey greeted noticing them and walking over too shake Kowalski's hand. "How you doin' Man? I never thought we'd see you back here."
 "Neither did I, Jack," Ray admitted. "Neither did I. Call me Ray or Stan, never Stanley." Of course only Fraser ever called him Ray now, but that was beside the point. The other detective laughed as a few others came over to welcome the long lost detective, though Francesca remained at his side through it all, ignoring the telephone and any of her other duties.
 "Well, well, well."  Detective Ray Vecchio commented sauntering over to the small crowd. He had been watching the display of affection from his co-workers for the blond and for some reason it angered him. "So yer the sucker they found to replace me, funny...you don't look a thing like me." Kowalski immediately didn't like this man, but he tried to contain himself by laughing off the Italian's arrogance.
 "Yeah, I caught a lucky break on that one." He replied and the few around him chuckled, all except for Vecchio.
 "Oh, so yer a funny guy. That's nice." He returned. "You have to have some talent I suppose since you weren't much of a cop." Francesca's arm restrained Kowalski from his sudden leap forward. Oh, he wanted to knock that guy on his ass, but he had been working on curbing his violent reactions, Beth had made him promise to try and control himself since he had blindly attacked Fraser that day on the beach.
 "Whatever you say, Vecchio." He finally contended, surprising those watching, who knew Kowalski's temper. "I let my record speak for itself." Vecchio was tired of this game.
 "Why are you here, anyway?" he demanded.
 "I came to help look for Fraser." Kowalski informed firmly and Vecchio shook his head.
 "He doesn't need you help and neither do I." Vecchio refused. "Benny's my friend and I'll find him just fine. I take care of my friends." He stressed the last sentence and Kowalski was sure it was intended to remind him that he had gone almost two years not speaking with the Mountie. Welsh had contacted him just two days ago about the Mounties's disappearance. He had come to visit his friends in Chicago and was kidnapped by some unknown perpetrators. Kowalski had caught the first plane in.
 "I'm happy for you, Vecchio." He commented. " But it must be hard to make any room for anyone else with your ego taking up so much of your obvious care."
 "Go home Kowalski." Vecchio warned. "We don't need you here. Go home to your little deputy's position and your ex-con lover." Francesca gasped as she watched the blond beside her almost flinch from the words. Fully expecting the fists to fly after that remark, they were all shocked when Ray turned on his heal and headed out.
 "You bastard!" Francesca exclaimed slapping her brother hard across the face then chasing after Kowalski.
 "What the hell was that for?" Ray Vecchio yelled after her as he rubbed his sore cheek, receiving glares from the others around him. "What?"
 "You were a pain in the ass before, Vecchio." Hewy commented boldly. "But you were never cruel. You've changed man."
 "What did I say?" Ray demanded as Hewy turned away from him.
 "Beth Botrell died about six weeks ago, Vecchio." Dewy informed coldly. Ray felt his stomach plunge in regret. Oh shit! He didn't now! He was just... he shook his head and stormed over to his desk, slapping down the files he had been carrying. He didn't want Kowalski here; he could find Benny himself. Kowalski had no right to be here, not after everything he had put Fraser through. Ray would never forgive him for that, even if Fraser had.
 

 "Stan!" Francesca called hurrying down over the stairs as she saw the blond step outside the building. "Stan wait!" She caught up with him just as he was about to get into the GTO his parents had kept there in storage for him and he had automatically retrieved it when he arrived.
 "Leave it alone, Frannie." He suggested leaning against the car with his arms folded across his chest. "Vecchio's right I got no right to be here."
 "No!" she protested. "You have every right. Fraser is your friend to. My brother's just in a tizzy because he had realized that you have friends here and that it wasn't just about you taking his place. He expected everything to be just as he had left it and it wasn't." She reached up and caressed his cheek. "He's jealous, Stan. He can't handle the thought that his friends and co-workers like you, his replacement."
 "That's stupid, Frannie." Kowalski insisted. "They were all his friends before I even came into the picture. I was just livin' his life for a while and they were treating me like they would Vecchio."
 "No, Stan." She refused. "They care about you, we all do, for who you are." Stan shook his head.
 "It was a mistake to come here." He muttered. "I...I never should have...."
 "I'm glad yer here, Stan." She assured. "I think Benton would be too, and I'm very proud of you for not decking my idiot brother."
"I made a promise to Beth I...I'd try to stay out of trouble." He smirked, but his eyes were clouded in sadness and Francesca pulled him into her embrace. "God I miss her so much already Frannie."
 "It's only been a short time, honey." She allowed soothingly. "It will hurt less as time passes." Stan gave her a quick final hug then stepped back and wiped at his eyes.
 "How's you get so wise, huh?"
 "I've always been wise." She teased. "Just you never chose to see it." He smiled and nodded. "Let's go back inside."
 

 "Kowalski!" barked the familiar voice of Lieutenant Welsh as the pair entered the squadroom. "My office, now." Stan felt himself respond and obey without even thinking about the fact that he no longer worked for the Lieutenant.
 "Yes Sir!" he returned as Francesca went back to her desk and he headed over.
 "Vecchio!" Welsh called as well and the Italian rose from his desk immediately to follow.  The two stood in Welsh's office, a good distance apart, as the larger man closed the door and took his place behind the desk.
 "Any lead's on Big Red's kidnapping, Vecchio?" he demanded and Kowalski was delighted to watch the arrogant Italian squirm.
 "I'm working on it, Sir." He promised. "I'm still scoping things out."
 "While your scoping, Fraser could be lying dead somewhere." Stan shot angrily and Vecchio gave him a deathly glare.
 "This ain't yer business Stanley, so stay out of it." The Italian returned watching the blond flinch at his full name.
 "Actually this is his business." Welsh defied, watching Vecchio gape at him. "We have reason to believe the kidnapper is someone from one of Kowalski and Fraser's past cases, so he would be good to have around."
"Sir," Vecchio immediately protested. "I've read all the case files, we don't need him."
 "I think we do." Welsh decided, noticing for once that the once volatile detective was remaining silent for a change.
 "He doesn't even work here anymore!" Vecchio defied angrily. "He's not used to the way we do things anymore, he's small time now and I haven't got the time for him to play catch up."
 "You're right on one point." Welsh agreed. "He does need to catch up on what we have going on, but that can be done at a later time, after we have found Constable Fraser."
 "Sergeant Fraser, Sir." Both men amended quickly then glared at each other as Welsh bit back his grin.
 "Whatever." He dismissed. "I believe these belong to you, Kowalski." He added, as he opened the drawer of his desk and took out two items, a badge book and a familiar looking gun in an ankle holster. He tossed the badge to Kowalski and set the gun on his desk for the detective to pick up. "I kept these around in case you needed them, Detective, they were recovered from the crime scene with Victoria and you never came to collect them."
 Kowalski picked up the badge slowly, Vecchio's name had been removed and his own engraved back on it. He ran his fingers over it, so many memories of his adventures with Fraser.
"But he doesn't have any jurisdiction here!" Vecchio protested.
 "I'm reinstating him." Welsh replied watching Kowalski slip his badge on his belt and pick up his old back up pistol, propping his foot on the arm of a chair to secure it around his ankle. He already had his shoulder holster on him; he'd worn it from Maine with his new gun. "That okay with you detective?'
 "I'm good to go, Sir." He confirmed and Welsh smiled.
 "Glad to hear it Son." Welsh returned ignoring the scathing look Vecchio was leveling toward Kowalski. "You two are partners until this is resolved, now go out there and find our missing Mountie."
 "Partners!" Vecchio exclaimed furious. "I don't want him fer my partner! I don't want him at all. He'll just get in my way."
 "Well, I'm not thrilled with you either, asshole." Kowalski retorted, about fed up with Vecchio's comments.
 "Make it work, detectives." Welsh warned then dismissed them. They both turned and started out the door at the same time, neither giving an inch for a few seconds, then Kowalski stepped back and allowed Vecchio ahead of him, who shot him a smug look.
 "Age before beauty, Vecchio." Kowalski couldn't refrain from commenting as the Italian went ahead, making a show behind his back like he wanted to slap him senseless. Vecchio stormed off toward his desk and Kowalski smirked as he left Welsh's office. The Lieutenant gazed after them and sighed. This was going to get complicated, he only hoped the two detectives managed to find Fraser before they killed each other.
 

 
 There were two possible suspects their investigation centered around, based on the information they already had. Van Zandt, whom Kowalski and Fraser had arrested for multiple murders and conspiracy to commit murder, charges. They hadn't been able to nail Van Zandt for the crimes because he was some how disposing of the bodies that could be termed as evidence. Fraser went under cover at a funeral parlor owned by Van Zandt as a corpse, in order to catch Van Zandt in the act of smuggling the bodies out in caskets under another deceased person.
 The Alderman, Frank Orsini, whom Fraser and Ray had put away for conspiracy and Fraud charges when he set up a hit on himself to make the public sympathize with his new building project and to throw blame on the protesters, who were upset over their homes being torn down.
 Both these men had a major grudge against the two who put them in jail. Orsini received one year with time off for good behavior. Van Zandt escaped from a state prison just three months ago. Their only lead was the kidnapper's note that had been left for Detective Vecchio, but when it had been delivered, the messenger had been given a description and it wasn't that of the real Ray Vecchio, but the man who had been posing as him. That was why Welsh had called Ray in, obviously the person it was meant for was Stan.
The note had read simply that Detective Ray Vecchio of the 27th precinct was to go to an abandoned wear house in the supplier's district, alone and unarmed. The real Ray Vecchio had attempted it and no one showed up, so they were now on their own tracking the suspects. They were once again going over the small clues they had found at the scene of Fraser's abduction. A small toy coffin that had been left with the Mounties's Stetson. A newspaper photo of some protesters outside city hall, and of course the note that was delivered.
 "Detective Vecchio?" A young messenger suddenly appeared at their desk.
 "That's me." Ray stood. "What'd ya got kid?" The boy handed him the manila envelope, which had only Ray's name and address at the precinct. Hie gave the kid a five then opened the package, careful to use his handkerchief to pull out the videocassette. They popped it in the VCR and watched the screen show the old time movie and television reels that counted off the seconds until the show appeared. 5...4...3...2...1...the screen went blank then started again.
 "What the hell does that mean?" Ray wondered aloud as Vecchio's phone rang. Ray picked it up, answered then put it on speaker.
 "You're running out of time, detective." A voice said. "Can you save your partner before his time's up?" Ray and Ray exchanged a worried glance.
 "Here, Stan." Francesca offered. "This was just dropped off for you." Kowalski frowned and took the long white envelope curiously; it had Arrostook County Sheriff's Department as the return address. Still frowning he pulled out his pen knife and slit one side, then retrieved the thick letter inside.
 "What is it?" Vecchio asked queried, but Kowalski didn't respond, his eyes still reading over the document. Finally he folded it and stood. "Hey? Where are you going? We got a case to work here." The blond ignored him and walked off; unaware of Francesca's concerned gaze that followed.
 "Ray how..." Stella greeted surprised; almost bumping into him as the detective rounded the corner.
 Her ex-husband barely acknowledged her long enough to step out of the way and continue on. Stella stared after him frowning, then noticed Francesca Vecchio hurrying around the corner after the blond. She found him in the break room, he had put his fist through a wall, kicked over some chairs and was now viciously assaulting a vending machine.
 "Stan?" Francesca asked cautiously noticing how the detective grew still as he realized he was no longer alone in the room.
 He ran a hand through his hair and attempted to restore order to the room, then move to pour himself a coffee; his hand was shaking so badly that he was spilling more of it onto the counter then in the Styrofoam cup. Francesca stepped up to him, after righting a few of the chairs.
  "Let me do that." She offered taking the pot from him.  She grabbed a fresh cup and poured him another coffee then set it in front of him on the table, as he dropped into a chair. She then wiped up the mess on the counter and settled across from him, noticing he had yet to touch the coffee.
 "Thanks." He finally managed to murmur as he pushed the coffee aside and folded his arms on the table, placing his head upon them. Francesca moved to sit by his side, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders.
 "Talk to me." She pleaded quietly. "What was in the letter?" Kowalski handed it to her, then returned to his dejected position.
  She read over it and bit her lip. It was a copy of Beth's last will and testament, the sheriff had sent it to Ray knowing he would be here, and was holding the original at his office. Beth Botrell had left everything to Stan, all her properties, money and investments. Kowalski had known Beth had her own source of income, but they never really discussed how much her assets amounted to. He had used his money to pay for the majority of things, he had not wanted to know what checks Beth wrote or for how much. Now it seemed, with her investments, properties and plus the money she had been awarded from her court settlements, her net worth was 16.5 million dollars and that amount was staggering when Francesca realized Beth had named Stan as her soul beneficiary.
 "I don't want it, Frannie." He muttered and there were tears in his voice. "I only wanted her." Francesca folded the letter and offered him a gentle squeeze.
 "She wanted you to have it, Stan." She sighed realistically. "Maybe you could give to charity or something. There's a lot of good you could do with it." She gave him a playful nudge. "I'd be willin' ta marry ya even if ya want."
 "You don't love me." Kowalski reminded with a small smile, grateful for her humor.
 "For that much money, I'll learn!" she laughed and he smiled a little more. She wanted to tell him that she did love him that she had loved him for a very long time, but she knew it was too soon after Beth's death to speak of such feelings. Stan wasn't ready to hear them.
 "I love you y'know?" he sighed as he turned in his chair to pull her into a firm embrace. "You've been the greatest friend to me Frannie, I wanna thank you for that." Francesca blinked away her tears.
 "Yeah, well," she retorted needing to laugh off his remark. "Don't think sweet talk gets you out of comin' to dinner at Ma's once we get Frase home safe." He laughed and wiped at his eyes as he picked up the documents. "Ma'd kill ya fer sure."
 "What'd you say?" he suddenly asked starling her.
 "I...said don' t think..."
 "No! After that."
 "Umm, Ma'd kill us?" she repeated hesitantly and suddenly Stan jumped up from his chair.
 "That's it!" he declared as she stood and he gave her a fierce kiss. "Frannie you're the greatest!"
"Wa...what'd I say?' the confused woman asked but the blond was already running back toward Vecchio's desk.
 "About time you got back..." The Italian immediately started to gripe.
 "Shut up and give me the clues we got." Kowalski demanded. Vecchio looked like he was about to argue, but then got out the plastic bag that held the coffin, clipping and ransom letter.
 "What is it?" Vecchio asked as Kowalski laid them out on the table.
 "I think I've got something." Was all he offered as he grabbed the photo of the protesters and hurried over to Francesca, just as she was sitting down at her desk. "Frannie, scan this and give me a close up." She did as he requested as Vecchio joined them and the two detectives's peered over her shoulder. Stan pointed to one of the signs and asked for a close up in that area.
 "Will you tell me what the hell we are looking for here?' Vecchio demanded as Francesca enlarged the view of one of the signs.
 "Right there!" Ray informed pointing at the words that read Vengeance will be ours."
 "So?" Vecchio asked. "What's that got to do with..."
 "We thought this photo was a group protesting the Alderman's new condo's." Kowalski explained quickly. "But it's not." His fist hit the desk furious and causing Francesca to jump slightly. "How could I have been so stupid? I've over looked the obvious juts like he knew I would. I..."
 "Tell me what yer talkin' about Kowalski or I swear to God I'll pop you in the mouth!" Vecchio demanded annoyed.
 "The picture." Kowalski began. "It's of protesters but not the ones we were thinking. I remember this sign. It was one of the signs held by protesters outside the jail where Beth was incarcerated a couple of days before her execution was supposed to be scheduled." He ran back to the desk and picked up the coffin. "This signifies death." He pointed at the VCR tape, which was still playing. "The countdown to her execution. And the voice on the phone, saying will I stop it in time.  He even gave a description of me, because he knew Welsh would call and have me come in. I know who has Fraser!"
 "Who!" Ray demanded but Stan was already grabbing his jacket and heading out.
 "I think I know where he is too." Kowalski tossed back and Vecchio had no choice but to follow him.

 Kowalski entered the wear house cautiously, with his weapon drawn and his eyes alert for any possible danger. He spotted Fraser bound and gagged to a chair a few yards ahead and slowly approached.
 "Hey, Frase." He greeted with a wink and a slow grin, trying not to show the almost crippling fear he was feeling. The last time he had gone looking for Fraser, he found him in a similar situation, only unconscious and that was when Victoria had ended up abducting them both. His palms were sweating so much he was fighting to retain a firm hold on the gun an his heart was racing wildly as though he had just ran a marathon.
 Fraser's clear blue eyes held his with a fear that matched his own, yet Kowalski suspected that fear was not directed at himself, more so that the Mountie was aware of Stan's fear and was afraid for him. He continued to move toward the chair, his eyes surveying the Mountie and the are between then for possible traps or explosives. He turned as he walked making sure there was no one behind him. This was too easy, way too easy he thought.
 He paused behind Fraser and pulled out his knife to start working the ropes and that was when the lights went out. Fraser felt his friend stiffen in fear as they were both pitched into darkness and heard his quickening of breath. He tried to speak but the gag prevented coherent words from being spoken.
 "Nice to see you, Ray." A familiar voice echoed around them. "How's Mrs. Botrell doing?" Stan remained silent, ignoring Franklin's prodding as his fingers groped frantically for the ropes binding Fraser. He didn't dare try to cut the, not when he couldn't see his hand in front of his face, but he also couldn't untie them without having to put his gun down. He found Fraser's shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze.
 "I'll be back." He whispered and Fraser frantically shook his head and tried to speak again. Ray managed to remove his gag, but put his fingers to the Mounties's lips. "Sssh, I'm okay." He assured and started to move away.
 Oh Ray, Fraser though forlornly, don't you see what he's dong? He's playing on your fears, he knows you won't be able to think straight. He tried for the umpteenth time to loosen his bonds, he had to find a way to help his friend, and he couldn't let him down, this time. He was startled to feel hands over his suddenly and the familiar smell of expensive cologne.
 "I got'cha Benny." His former partner whispered as he loosened the ropes around the Mounties's wrists. Fraser immediately sat forward and pulled off the ropes on his feet the moment his hands were free then stood, unprepared for the sudden weakness in his legs from sitting for so long. He felt Ray Vecchio's strong arm go around him for support.
"We...we have to help, Ray." Fraser murmured trying to quell the nausea rising inside of him. Had Franklin drugged him? He couldn't remember.
 "We gotta get you out of here first, Benny." Vecchio insisted as they moved forward with the aid of a flashlight in Vecchio's hand. "I'll come back fer Kowalski, but he made me promise to see to you first now com'ahn."
 "I can't leave him, Ray." Fraser protested. "Please, we have to help him."
 "Benny you're in no shape..." Vecchio began but when he flashed the light toward his friend's face he saw the hungry despair envisioned there.
 "I can't let him down again, Ray." Fraser insisted shakily. "Please, I refuse to abandon him a second time."
 "Fraser you didn't..."
 "Please Ray!" Fraser urged and the Italian sighed in defeat.
 "Com'ahn then, I think he went this way." He commented and Fraser, regaining some of his strength followed, still holding onto his friend for balance.
 

 The lights came on as Kowalski stepped into the small room and he blinked in defense then his eyes focused on the sight of Sam Franklin sitting informally in a leather back chair with his legs crossed comfortably and his gun trained on Stan's chest.
 "Drop it, Ray." He ordered quietly and Kowalski carefully set his gun on the floor. "Now kick it over to me." Ray toed the weapon forward but Franklin made no move to retrieve it.
 "What's this all about, Sam?" Kowalski inquired hoping his voice sounded steadier then it felt. Franklin raised an eyebrow.
 "You've lost your accent," he observed. "That's a shame I rather liked it. You don't quite sound like yourself anymore." Stan shrugged.
 "I'm not the same person I was." He admitted with easiness that he didn't feel. "You gonna tell me what this is all about?"
 "I would think you had figured that out too, Ray." Franklin decided. "You saw through my wild goose chase and you came here to where you knew I would be waiting. So why don't you tell me what this is all about?"
  "I have no idea how you mind works, Sam." Stan informed. "I'm not a criminal." Franklin smirked.
 "Where did all that passion and flair go that was Ray Kowalski, Hmm?" he asked wistfully. "Usually at this point you would either be threatening me or you would have apprehended me, so what's the deal?"
 "You tell me." Stan countered coolly.
 "Are you worried about the Mountie?" Franklin tried and Stan shook his head.
 "He's far away from here by now." He replied, hoping Vecchio had indeed gotten Fraser out. "It's just you and me here now Sam."
 "Well, well, well." Franklin sighed. "Then I guess I'll have to show you why I brought you here." He snapped his fingers and two familiar looking men walked in.  Stan paled and had to literally work to keep himself upright.
 No! It can't be! They were dead, or he thought they were dead...hadn't Welsh told them they'd been taken care of? Stan shook his head, his fear overwhelming him as they advanced on him and he backed up into the wall. The men who had beat him, tormented him...rape him at Victoria Metcaf's orders.
 "No..." Stan managed, unable to take his eyes off of him as the memories of all they did came flooding back, visions he had worked so hard to rid himself off now spun through his mind at an terrifying rate.
 "Hey ya pretty boy." The larger one sneered as he reached out to trace the scar in Ray's cheek. "Back fer more are ya?" The other laughed as Ray flinched and tried to move past them.
 "Sam...Sam please..." he begged, his eyes glancing toward the ex-cop who was watching the scene intently.
 "It's your call Ray." He informed in an oddly wistful voice. Stan's gaze returned to the two men before him as the large moustache one grabbed at Stan's arm for a good hold.
 "NO!" he screamed head butting the man hard enough to cause his own head to swim and swinging at the other that charged him. He managed to get past them and instinctually ran for the door, but a meaty fist clasped around his throat and threw him up against the wall viciously.
 "Yer gonna pay fer that Blondie." He decided pressing his own hard body into Kowalski's thinner frame painfully and reaching down with his other hand to pull at the detective's jeans. Stan struggled but he had no leverage against the stronger man and he was weak from lack of oxygen.
 "I'll do it!" he croaked as he continued to claw at the man's hand around his throat. "I...I'll do anything just...just don't hurt...hurt me." He saw the triumph in the giant's eyes and the pressure eased on his throat as his feet once again touched the floor. He gasped in the much-needed air as he slid down the wall defeated.
 "On yer knees, Blondie." The man ordered as Stan's gaze slid once more to Franklin's solemn gaze. How the man must hate him to do this. His eyes returned to the man standing before him who was already pulling off his belt and tearing down the zipper of his slacks.
 "C...can't." he whimpered. "I can't please don't..." The giant slapped him hard across the face and Stan felt his head hit the wall before he started to slide sideways. He curled his legs up around him in a fetal position, he couldn't handle this, and he couldn't go through this a second time.
 Dear God put him out of his misery now before it happened again. The Giant laughed and kicked Stan in the ribs as the other taunted him, calling him names, telling them what they were going to do to him, just like before. Kowalski couldn't seen to shake the cold grip of fear that held him immobile and then for an instant h saw Beth's face and then Fraser's. He became angry, so very angry at the thought that another attack would surly force him over the edge and away from the Mountie. He had already lost Beth; so much of their precious time had been hampered by his recovery the first time. He could not let this happen again. He was suddenly hauled to his feet and face to face with the other man, who was smiling wickedly.
 "We gonna have us some fun, pretty boy." He announced and was shocked when Stan spit in his face.
 "F**k you." That earned him a blow to the stomach and one to the jaw. He tried to dispel the dizziness and nausea that swept over him, he could do this, he had been here before.  All the rage over the past two years, all the fear and anger and injustice reigned down on him suddenly and he was prepared for the next time they grabbed him up from the floor and his knee came up into the man's groin defiantly.
"Sonovabitch!" the second goon cursed dropping him and giving Stan the opportunity to get his arm around the man's thick neck and twist it viciously. He heard the snap and understood that he had just killed someone, but his was a madness that was too far gone now to be stopped, denying him from feeling the slightest remorse for the act. The giant, furious at the death of his friend, charged and Stan wasn't fast enough to avoid the massive bulk. The momentum threw them both tumbling out the window.
 Three stories down into a pallet of fruit boxes they landed. The deja-vu of going out another window was almost too much for Stan and his hesitation resulted in the man getting a good grip on him before he could get away. Kowalski kicked him, bit, and punched whatever he could to disengage the huge body pressing him down, for he was no longer living in the present and his mind had snapped. He had had been shocked back to another time where all he could remember was pain and fear as he struggled to get away.
 One of the boxes that they were laying on had worked loose from the struggles and they both were suddenly plummeting downward toward the concrete just a few feet away. Stan started to crawl away but the giant had grabbed his foot and he tried to kick him off. The look in the man's face was the one that still haunted Stan's nightmares and he felt the tears slip from his eyes and down over his cheeks. He managed to wedge himself and Stan against the corner of the building and he was viciously assaulting the blonde's mouth as the hand that wasn't clasped around Stan's throat once more, slipped inside the detective's jeans.
 Stan bucked wildly and tried to bring his legs up to get some leverage to throw the man off, but that only seemed to excite the giant over him. In the dark recess of his mind Kowalski knew he didn't stand a chance and that his nightmares were really happening again, yet a thought edged it's way into his brain and he reached his hand down toward his leg. A savage inhuman cry tore from his throat.
 The first shot surprised them both; the second caused the giant to release him and stumble backward with shock registering in his eyes. The third bullet sliced straight through the man's heart killing him, yet Stan continued to fire until all his rounds were spent and all that could be heard was his screaming and the click click of his empty gun.

 
 Fraser and Ray burst into the room just as he saw his friend break through the glass with another man after him. Ray trained his weapon on Franklin and the other criminal, ordering them not to move, as Fraser rushed to the window in fear.
 "He needed this." Franklin was saying reigned as Ray cuffed him. "They took away his fire don't you see? He had to settle the score."
 "What the hell are you talking about?" Vecchio demanded angrily, was this guy wacko or what?
 "When I learned he was alive." Franklin continued as if he never even heard Ray's question. "I was so relieved, but then I learned what had happened and I was so shocked. They changed him, they changed my Ray into a different person, someone who was always afraid and didn't trust himself." He turned his gaze to Fraser, who had already started to move toward the door to go help his friend, jumping through the window might hurt Stan if he landed wrong. "I knew if I took you he'd come back and save you. He'd do anything for you Mountie, just like he used to do for me."
 Fraser didn't respond he was bolting for the door to hurry down to his friend.
 "You're doing this as a type of therapy!" Vecchio exclaimed coldly as he kept his gun trained on his prisoner and checked the other man for a pulse, there was none.
 "He needed to face them again."  Franklin assured. "I found out where they were and convinced them to come. I knew Ray would be okay once he faced them, but I...I just never expected him to be as afraid as he was." Ray cursed and practically shoved Franklin out the door.
 "So what, you were just gonna let them screw him up again, maybe kill him?" he demanded.
 "I didn't realize he would be so afraid of them." He insisted sadly. "I would never have let it go that far."
 "You're one f**ked up cop, y'know that Franklin." Vecchio decided.

 Fraser had heard his friend's horrendous cry before he even made it outside the building, where he cautiously knelt next to Kowalski, who was still pulling the trigger on the gun he had kept strapped to his ankle. Click. Click. Click. The man lying in a pool of his own blood a few steps away was obviously dead, yet Kowalski couldn't seem to stop firing. His face was twisted in an anguished nightmare that his mind had trapped him in and his cries gave way to a tortured weeping.
 "Ray?" he asked gently reaching for the gun, careful not to spook his frightened partner by moving to quickly. "He's dead Ray. It's over, now give me the gun." It took a moment before the Mounties's soft voice registered in Kowalski's brain and he started to look towards him, yet he couldn't let go of the gun.
 "I...I can't Frase." He whispered hoarsely and Fraser carefully pried the weapon from his steel grip.
 Then Stan started to shake convulsively as he realized they weren't coming after him again. Never again, they were both dead and he had been the one to kill them. This time he fought back and won. He killed two men and still he felt not even a drop of remorse. He rolled his head toward Fraser and the Mountie automatically wrapped his arms around his frightened friend.
 "Dead." He whispered in disbelief. "I...I killed them and I don' feel anything Fraser."
 "It's all right Ray." Fraser soothed as Franklin and Vecchio stepped from the building. Fraser helped Stan rise to his feet, keeping a supportive arm around him as he handed the empty gun to Vecchio.
 "I did it for you, Ray." Franklin told him earnestly. "I wanted you to take your life back and you did." Stan stared at him in shock. The idea that this man, who he had once admired so much, could do this to him was the ultimate betrayal, even worse then when he had wrongly incarcerated Beth for Stan's rookie mistake. "I love you Kowalski, I couldn't stand hearing what they did to you and now you've made them pay, like I knew you would." Fraser felt Stan start to move away from him as he approached the former cop. For a long moment they just stared at each other, then suddenly Stan hit him, square in the face and knocked him on his ass.
"You lousy sonovabitch." He growled. "If my gun wasn't empty I'd blow yer goddamn head off you psychotic bastard!" Vecchio decided not to acknowledge that he had Stan's other gun in his belt.
 "Ray!" Franklin exclaimed as Stan turned away and Vecchio hauled the fallen man to his feet. "I did it for you, Ray. I thought you needed to do this. I never..." Kowalski continued to walk away, with the support of Fraser's arm around him, ignoring the other man's call to him. They had only gone a few steps when the blonde's legs gave from beneath him and Fraser was gently scooped up his friend and carried him to the car.
 "It's over, Ray." He whispered to the unconscious man in his arms. "No one will ever hurt you again, I swear it."
 Ray Vecchio had heard the quiet words his friend spoke to Kowalski and he swallowed his jealousy. He would never have survived what the blond had, and he knew this in his heart. If Fraser were vowing to protect Kowalski, Vecchio would do his best to honor that vow; perhaps he might even get the chance to know the other man better. Despite everything else, Vecchio liked Stanley; he had never met a better or stronger person than the man who once replaced him, except for the Mountie who now coddled Kowalski protectively in his strong arms.

 Stan awoke with a start as he felt something touch his cheek and his hand shot out to catch whatever it was in a painful grip.
 "Hey!" Francesca exclaimed startled as she tried to detach his fingers from her hair. "Leave da scalp!" Stan immediately released her and sat up trying to slow his flowing racing heart with deep breaths.
 "I...I'm sorry, Frannie." He offered chagrinned. "I...I didn't know..."
 "I didn't mean to scare you." She stated rubbing her now sore head. "I guess I should know better, Ray tells me not to touch him when he's sleeping either, it's a cop thing I guess." Stan's eyes darkened and he looked away.
 "Yeah." He returned quietly as he slowly rolled to the opposite side of the large bed to place his feet on the floor. Francesca grasped his shoulder and tried to pull him back.
 "Don't get up." She warned. "You need to rest." She smiled sheepishly and started to blush. "I didn't mean to wake you but you looked like you might be running a fever and I...I guess I'm so used to kissing the kids to figure out how warm they are, y'know it's easier to tell then with your hand, I automatically did it with you." She smiled. "You looked so cute lying here." Stan smirked but didn't lay back down.
  He put his hand to his throbbing head, which at the moment hurt more than his  bruised ribs, and closed his eyes for a long moment. He assumed he was at the Vecchio's house, the room looked vaguely familiar, possibly their guestroom, but he was trying to remember how he had gotten here. He vaguely remembered going to look for Fraser and then...the nausea hit him like a tidal wave and he tried to choke it back. The two men, Franklin, he'd killed them...Franklin telling him he'd done it all for Kowalski's own good. He sort of remembered hitting Franklin, and starting to walk away, but then nothing.
 "Are you okay?" Francesca asked moving around to the other side of the bed to face him. Stan nodded, but she knew he was lying. "I'll go get Fraser." He caught her wrist as she turned and again he'd startled her with his lightening fast reflexes.
 "Don't do that, okay, Frannie?" her requested quietly. "I'll be okay, just...just let me get myself together?"
 "Benton wanted me to tell him the moment you work up, Stan." She countered and Stan didn't doubt that, the Mountie was incredibly protective.
 "I...I know, just." He grimaced, as his headache became worse. "Just give me some time to calm down, okay? You gave me a bit of a scare and my heard kinda hurts."
 "I really am sorry." She offered kindly. "I'll get you some aspirin." He nodded and watched her leave, then lay back on the bed and curled up in a fetal position, his mind trying once again to deal with all it had witnessed.
 He felt the tears welling up inside of him, perhaps from simple stress relief or because he had faced his nightmare and survived once again, but he pushed them back. He was not going to cry he had done enough of that to last him a lifetime. His lower lip started to quiver and he knew the emotional roller coaster he had been on since Beth's death was nearing the edge of his sanity. When he had heard that Fraser had been kidnapped, the idea of returning to Chicago and working on that type of case again had badly frightened him. However the idea of not seeing the Mountie again because of his cowardice frightened him more and so he had come at Welsh's request.
 He had been afraid from the moment he walked into the 27TH precinct that he was going to screw up. He hadn't fired a gun in almost two years, being a deputy where he was gave him little reason to even draw it most times, and he was worried he would freeze up in a crisis. Then dealing with Vecchio, a man he had never met but secretly hated and envied for most of his time as Fraser's partner. He also didn't know what sort of shape Fraser would be in, since the Mountie had been upset when they parted after spreading Beth's ashes, Fraser came to Chicago and Stan went off to think.
 Now, all that fear and anxiety and adrenaline threatened to overwhelm him in it's release and the idea that he still was fighting the memory of ghosts and that despite everything turning out alright, he still felt like he was going to start bawling like a baby. He started chuckling in disbelief, his laughter almost growing hysterical until soon tears broke through his defenses and his laughter turning to an uncontrolled sobbing.
 He felt the mattress give under someone's weight and a comforting hand moving to rest on his shaking shoulder. The sudden need to be close to another encompassed him and he turned toward the tender touch, thankful when strong arms encircled him and held him close. Warm persuasive hands traced soothing circles across his back as his own arms wrapped around the person's neck. A decidedly masculine fragrance filled Stan's nostrils and he could feel the soft texture of silk under his fingers. His mind was whirling with alarm as he realize whose arms he was in, but he couldn't let go any more then he could quiet his wrenching sobs. When he did try and pull away initially the arms only held him tighter and a deep tender voice whispered in his ear.
 "Hush, Stanley." Ray Vecchio suggested. "Just let it out, it's okay to cry."
 "W...why?" Stan gulped, unable to finish the question, but Vecchio seemed to understand what he was asking.
 "Yer a guest in my home." He murmured softly, his hands never pausing in their deliberately calming strokes along Stan's back. "Yer loved by my family and my best friend, which is enough fer me ta care about you too. I'm not gonna let you cry alone."
 "Thought you...you hated me." Stan muttered and felt rather than heard Vecchio's sigh.
 "So did I." he admitted reluctantly. "Then ya had to go and be so...so you and knocked the wind out of my sails." He smiled. "Hard to hate someone who's so damned likeable, Stanley." Stan allowed himself a small smile; perhaps Vecchio wasn't so bad after all, once you knocked the chip off his shoulder. Finally he pulled back and wiped at his eyes, as Ray offered him a tissue from the box on the nightstand.
 "Sorry about your shirt." He offered almost shyly and Ray glanced down at the moisture covering parts of his expensive blue silk shirt. The Italian shrugged and grinned.
 "Hey, one shirt's nothing compared to the clothes I went through as Fraser's partner." He commented dryly and Stan chuckled.
 "You're alright, Vecchio." He decided as Ray offered him the aspirin he had confiscated from Francesca and a glass of water he had set on the bed table beside them. Stan swallowed them as Ray rose from the bed and grinned at him.
 "Yer okay too, Kid." He returned as he moved toward he door. "Ma's got dinner ready when you want to join us down stairs." Stan nodded, and then just before the detective started to leave he spoke
 "Hey, Vecchio?" he asked and Ray turned back warily.
 "What, Kowalski?' he quipped and Stan lowered his eyes for a moment.
 "Thanks."
 "Fer what?"
 "Fer lettin' me be you." Stan told him honestly. "I...I enjoyed it, you have a pretty good thing going here." Ray Vecchio regarded him silently for a moment, then finally nodded.
 "Yer welcome, Stan." He replied. "I...thanks fer takin' such good care of things while I was gone." Stan nodded and Ray left the room, as the blond started to shakily rise to his feet. He made his way to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face, then headed down to the warmth of the people he loved.
 

 Sam Franklin was arrested and once more incarcerated, Kowalski let Vecchio take the credit for it simply because he didn't want anything more to do with the case. He knocked on Welsh's door and stepped inside the moment the Lieutenant gave him the word.
 "Hello Detective." He greeted. "How's your ribs?"
 "Couple of days they'll be all healed up, Sir." Kowalski informed shifting nervously on his feet.
 "Good." Welsh decided. "I've got another case for you and Vecchio involving a..."
 "Sir, " Stan interrupted. "Lieu, I...I'm not gonna work any more cases with Vecchio." Welsh sighed.
 "Okay, I know you two don't get along, but you work well together and..."
 "No, Sir, it's...it's not that." Kowalski assured reluctantly. "Vecchio's an asshole sometimes, but he's a good cop. I probably could work with him okay if I had to."
 "Then what's the problem, Stan?"
 "Harding, I...I'm not staying in Chicago." He stated pulling out his badge and ankle gun and setting them on Welsh's desk. "I can't do this again, this life. It's in my past, I don't have the guts for it anymore."
 "Stan," Welsh began. "You're just getting first day jitters. You'll fall right back into the fold after you've worked a few more cases, you'll see. You're a good cop and we need you here to..."
 "It...it isn't about me not being able to do the job, Sir." He assured quietly. "I don't want to be a cop anymore. I've changed a lot and I made some decisions the past few weeks. This isn't the kind of life that I want for myself anymore." Welsh regarded him quietly for a moment.
 "What are you going to do, Stan?" he asked and he watched the detective grin.
 "Travel." He decided. "See the world, go to all the places I've ever read about."
 "Are you going to be traveling alone, detective?' Welsh inquired curious and Stan shrugged. He knew the Lieutenant was wondering about Fraser.
 "I don't know that yet either. I'm just kinda riding the wave and seeing where it takes me" Welsh nodded and slowly reached for the items on his desk. He stared at the gun for a long time before offering it back to Kowalski.
 "You might need this, Stan." He stated.
 "No, I don't think I will." Stan refused with a wry grin. Welsh sighed and stood to offer his hand to a man that had become like a son to him.
 "I wish you the best of luck, Kowalski."
 "Thank you, Sir." Stan shook his hand firmly. "I'll stay in touch."
 "We'd appreciate that.' Welsh concurred as Stan stepped back. Welsh was startled when the detective raised his hand in a respectful salute to him and the Lieutenant returned it, his eyes wet with emotion.
 "It's been a pleasure working with you, Sir." Stan informed and Welsh nodded, not trusting himself to speak, then watched Kowalski turn and quietly leave his office for the final time, firmly closing the door behind him. He lowered his eyes to the badge in his hand and his thumb caressed the name affectionately, before he placed it in his shirt pocket. He didn't want anyone else to receive the detective's badge through their usual recycling. He would take it home with him and find a place for it, one worthy of such an out standing man.
 
 

 
 Fraser, dressed in his civilian attire, hung up the phone on Ray Vecchio's desk just as Stan Kowalski exited Lieutenant Welsh's office and headed toward him. He knew that his friend had been saying goodbye to their former superior and he couldn't help but feel the ending of an era was dawning around him. Now there would truly be no chance of their ever being partners again and Fraser was bereft over the loss.
 "Hungry Frase?' Stan inquired as he stopped beside him.
 "I could eat something, yes." Fraser returned quietly, his Stetson fiddling between his fingers.
 "Let's go grab a bite then." He encouraged tossing an arm around the Mountie as they headed out. They both climbed into the GTO and pulled away from the precinct parking lot. Fraser had been very quiet the past two days while they were wrapping up the case with Franklin, and Stan suspected he was reluctant to return home tomorrow and leave his friends again.
 "Ray?" Fraser inquired suddenly and Stan glanced at him in acknowledgment. "Do you...do you remember when you said that you had to go away and think about things for awhile?"
 "Yeah." Stan returned with a grin. "And while I was away thinking you went and got yourself kidnapped, I'm a little suspicious there Fraser." Fraser knew he as teasing, but he couldn't even force a small smile to his lips, he was too afraid of the conversation he was bout to have with his friend.
 "Did you...did you discover what you hoped you would, Ray?" he asked in that same worried tone.
 "Mostly, I think." Stan agreed. "I was interrupted of course," he winked at Fraser. "But I think I got it worked out." Silence spread between them until Fraser finally asked what was on his mind, what had been occupying his thoughts for almost three weeks now.
 "May I ask now what that discovery is and if...if it involves me or...our relationship?" Stan was quiet for a long time, and then Fraser noticed him pulling off the main highway and turning onto the road that led to the docks. He stopped the car in the exact place where he and Stan had exchanged blows so long ago and Fraser felt his stomach tighten in fear. Was this going to be another parting of the ways? Was that why Ray had picked this particular spot?
 Twilight was upon them as they stared out at the water and shadowed the interior of the car as it once had before. Finally Stan turned to toward him and Fraser met his gaze. Oh please don't let him be rejecting me again, please oh please.
 "You remember when I asked about you and Billy, Ben?" Fraser was startled by the use of his first name, and he could help for moment thinking it was Billy speaking to him and not Ray, but then he tried to concentrate on the question at hand.
 "Yes, Ray I do." He admitted. "You asked if we had been...romantically involved and I told you that we were not."
 "Is that true, Ben?" Stan asked and Fraser cast him an alarmed glance.
 "Of course!" he assured. "I would not lie to you, Ray." Stan nodded and grew quiet again. The waiting was killing Fraser, for one who was usually so patient he was about ready to start screaming for an answer.
 "Did you ever want to?" Stan finally asked.
 "W...want to what, Ray?" Fraser countered confused.
 "To be romantically involved with Billy."
 "Oh, well, no Ray I...well I may have considered it at one time but I...well I just couldn't...well do that." Fraser replied and he watched Stan sit back and sigh.
 "Oh." Was all he said. Again another long silence.
 "Why, Ray?" he finally asked.
 "Why what?"
 "Why...why did you ask me if I ever wanted to be romantically involved with Billy?" Fraser reminded and Stan shrugged.
 "Just wondered." He returned but Fraser sensed he was holding back.
 "Why were you wondering, Ray?" he pressed and watched his friend stare out ahead of him for a long time, his long fingers drumming the steering wheel thoughtfully. Sam Franklin claimed that Victoria and her men had stolen Ray's fire, his passion for life and the very energy that was Ray Kowalski, but Fraser could still see that fire in the blonde's movements, in his smile and mostly in those furiously dancing eyes.
 "It's not important." Stan assured quietly. "I...um...I received a copy of Beth's will, Fraser." The Mountie tied not to show his disappointment at being referred to by his last name again, though Ray was the only person who ever made his last name sound so endearingly intimate when he said it, so he didn't mind very much.
 "It must have been difficult for you, Ray." He offered kindly. Stan nodded and shot him a shy smile.
 "Frannie helped me figure things out, she's quiet a woman y'know?"
 "Yes, Ray." Fraser agreed. "Francesca is very special." Another long pause.
 "So, anyway, I thought I'd tell you what I decided, get your feelings on it." Stan stated and Fraser waited quietly. "I'm giving our house to Cora, my neighbor. She's still paying on her mortgage which is why she's having to work two jobs, and so she can save a bit of money by owning mine and Beth's. It's bigger too so there'll be more room for the kids."
 "That's very generous of you, Ray." Fraser replied impressed, but Stan simply shrugged.
 "Beth...well she left me the bulk of her estate and that's...well a lot." Stan informed reluctantly, he still was not comfortable with the idea that he was rich. "I've decided I'm gonna travel, see all the places I read about in school and stuff, y'know." He smiled. "I think Ireland will be first, I always wanted to go there and maybe the Greek isles or something."
 "That sounds like an attractive alternative to police work, Ray." Fraser offered, while his hurt cried out in despair. His friend was leaving and the chances of them seeing each other again was very slim, Fraser tied to maintain a sense of control.
 "Yeah." Stan agreed. " Of course I have some things back in Maine to settle up first, but in about a month or so I should be able to just take off for parts unknown."
 "Indeed." Fraser replied, his gaze riveted to the hands folded primly in his lap.
 "You ever wanna do anything other then being a Mountie, Frase?" Stan asked and Fraser was taken back by the question.
 "I do not believe so, Ray." He denied after a long pause. "It was what my Father was, it is what I became."
 "You never wanted to do anything else?" Stan probed watching the Mountie quietly. Fraser shrugged slightly in reluctantance, he had never discussed his other dreams with anyone, not even his Father. He was a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, that was what his Father was and what he was, there was little point in dreaming for something that was not your present situation.
 "I suppose I considered writing music at one time," he finally admitted, surprising himself by his candor, but then he always could tell Ray more then he could anyone else. "Or perhaps write the all American novel. Silly childhood fantasies that I am sure most people have at one time."
 "Y'know," Stan began with a smile. "Traveling is supposed to be great inspiration for writers, Frase." The Mountie met his gaze; confusion mixed with a flicker of hope he didn't dare allow himself to feel.
 "I have heard that before, Ray." He acknowledged amiably, hoping his voice didn't sound as gruff with emotion as it seemed to him.
 "Would you...do you think you would ever consider, well...not being a Mountie?' Stan asked carefully. "I...I mean you'll always be a Mountie, I've learned with people like you and me being a cop isn't what you do it's who you are, but do you think you would always need to...well work with the RCMP?"
 "I...I do not think I understand what you are asking me, Ray." Fraser returned nervously. "I...are you asking me if I may retire some day or...or...if I may enter into another field of Law Enforcement?"
 "I guess I'm asking you if...." Stan hesitated, trying to form his words properly so they didn't get misunderstood, as so often was the case. "Do you...do you want to continue being with Billy?" Fraser glanced at him, boy that question came out of left field he thought startled.
 "I...Billy is my friend and he...he has been very good to me, Ray." He managed bewildered.
 "Is that a yes?" Stan pressed and Fraser sighed, wishing his nerves weren't causing him so much distress at the moment, he was sure he was about to get sick form the knots forming in his stomach and his head was starting to throb.
 "Why are you asking me this, Ray?" he demanded, unable to take much more of the indirect answers and bizarre questioning. Stan lowered his eyes for a moment as though carefully considering his next reply, and then suddenly he leaned forward and touched his lips to Fraser's, pulling a gasp of shock from the usually calm Mountie.
 "You wanna hit me?" he asked, though their lips had only touched briefly, it was still a man kissing another man and it all boiled down to Fraser's reaction to that act. Fraser blinked and tried to focus on the man opposite him. Was he dreaming or had Ray just kissed him? He couldn't have! Why would he...realization dawned as he recalled their earlier conversation.
 "Ray....why did you want to know if I ever wanted to be involved with Billy?" he asked quietly and watched the blond blush and pull away.
 "No reason." He muttered but Fraser couldn't believe that.
 "I have to know, Ray, please."
 "Why didn't you want to be?" Stan countered turning his intense gaze back to the Canadian. "You said you thought about it, so why not?" Fraser decided to take the leap.
 "Because as much as he looked and sounded like someone close to me, he wasn't the one I loved, Ray." Fraser admitted quietly and prayed this was not going to blow up in his face. He felt exposed now, vulnerable and he hated that feeling of rejection that almost always accompanied his revelation afterwards.
 "Who...who was the one you loved, Fraser?" Stan pressed anxiously and Fraser was surprised to find he could meet the blonde's worried gaze head on.
 "You, Ray." He replied quietly and watched his friend's expression soften to one of pleased wonderment.
 "Even after all I have done to you?" he had to ask and Fraser nodded.
 "All we have done to each other," he amended softly. "Does not change how I feel." Stan hesitated once more before leaning forward and gently kissing the Mountie a second time. As he was about to pull back, Fraser's hand snaked up around his neck and captured his friend's head to bring him closer again. The third kiss was tentative, but quickly grew passionate as both men realized this was something they had been waiting a long time for.
 Stan moaned against Fraser's talented mouth as the Mounties's lips and tongue practically devoured him. Stan's fingers wound into Fraser's thick dark hair, angling the Canadian's head for a deeper penetration of his mouth and Fraser welcomed the increased pressure. The two-day's beard growth the detective sported scratched at Fraser's smoother skin but the Mountie reveled in it, for it was what made the dream seem so real. Finally Stan pulled back and tried to catch his breath, the Mountie had similar breathing problems.
 "I...I want you to come with me, Ben." He blurted through his shortened breath. "I...I know you have responsibilities, and that you live with Billy and you don't have to stay it can be a vacation if you want and we can just connect later, but if you want to come with me then I really want to have you for as long as you want to stay and there's...."
 "I'd love to Ray." Fraser agreed quietly, interrupting the detective's nervous babble and cutting him off midstream.
 "You...you would?" he asked surprised. "But...but what about being a Mountie and Billy and..."
 "I spoke to Billy while you were in with Lieutenant Welsh, Ray." Fraser informed calmly. "He has decided to move back to Vancouver with his daughter. I informed him that would be fine because I would not be staying in Newfoundland either."
 "W...where were you planning to stay, Fraser?" Stan asked surprised at this new piece of information.
 "That was actually depending on you, Ray." He stated. "I was going to go wherever you did, if you wanted me too, if not then I would return to the territory's and live in my Father's cabin."
 "You...you were gonna give all that up for me, Fraser?" Stan declared in disbelief. Fraser nodded. "So...so then you're okay with traveling for awhile, just...just you and me and maybe Dief?"
 "I can arrange to have Diefenbaker's immunization and travel papers in approximately six weeks." Fraser stated. "Anywhere that we cannot take him, I am sure Billy will care for him while we are gone." Stan continued to stare at the Mountie, his heart so full of the excitement that awaited them.
 "I...this will be great, Fraser...greatness!" He leaned forward and enfolded the Mountie in a warm hug. "Are you sure about all of this, about...about us?"
 "I am as sure as I can be, Ray." He stated. "Are you sure your feelings for me are not just rebounding after Beth's death though?" Stan thought for a moment, then shook his head.
 "No, I...I loved Beth, I still do, but no one, not even Stella has ever come close to how I feel for you, Frase." He admitted. "I...I just didn't want to face those feelings until, well until we met again in Newfoundland and I saw you with Billy. I was so mad, Fraser, so...I don't know. I think I felt more betrayed by you...I think it was harder to deal with you in the beginning because those feelings were getting stronger and I...well I didn't know how to handle them. So, I pushed you away."
 "Oh, Ray." Fraser sighed.  "I wish things could have been easier for you." Stan shrugged.
 "I did it to myself, Frase." He stated. "I...Beth taught me that life is too precious to just push people away and let your anger take over." His eyes misted over. "I...I think she suspected the way I felt about you and that was why she kept talking about how close you and Billy were, to make me face those feelings."
 "She was a wise and wonderful woman, Ray." Fraser offered quietly. He reached across and traced the scar on Stan's cheek thoughtfully. "I wish it had been me, Ray. More than anything I wish those things had been done to me and not to you, you didn't deserve such atrocities." Stan caught his hand and turned his cheek into Fraser's palm.
 "No one deserves them, Frase." He commented. "They just happen. I..." His voice caught and Fraser frowned for bringing up bad memories, Ray had been through enough recently without adding to his grief.
 "I'm so sorry, Ray." He whispered, his own grief making it difficult to speak properly. Stan shook his head.
 "I blamed you, Fraser." He admitted ashamed. "I...you didn't deserve it but I did and...I needed to lash out at someone and I picked you. That wasn't right I..."
 "I understand, Ray." Fraser assured quickly. "It was my fault that Victoria involved you, she was a woman from my past and..."
 "No!" Stan refused angrily and Fraser noticed curiously that some of Stan's former accent seemed to come through when he was upset. "Victoria was a sadistic nutcase and I don't blame you for her actions. Neither of us could have predicted what would happen then. I...I blamed you because you were there, Fraser, not because you knew Victoria from before. I felt...I was used to us getting out of heavy situations and...and when I saw...when she made me watch the two of you it was more than just feeling angry because you were not gettin' the shit kicked out of you." He took a breath to calm himself and Fraser noticed he was shaking. "She made it sound like ya were both long lost lovers, and though I knew you would never condone what she did to me, I couldn't help thinkin'..." He shook his head and Fraser's heart went out to him. "She messed with my head, Fraser. She really screwed me up and all those feelings, mixed with the fact that I think I was jealous of you being with her that way just threw me over the edge ya know?"
 "Oh, Ray." Fraser whispered again, his lower lip quivering, for he too was on the verge of tears. He could tell it was painful for the detective to talk about and tried to close the subject. "It doesn't matter now you don't..."
 "It does matter, Fraser." Stan insisted. "Please, just...I have to tell you this, I ...I have to tell you everything or I'll never finish healing." Fraser nodded, though he didn't know how much more he could stand to hear. "First, when all they were doing were smackin' me around, it was no big deal, y'know? I mean, I could handle getting beat up, had before no big thing, so I could still keep up my posture y'know?" Fraser nodded; understanding how important it was for Kowalski not to appear weak, especially in front of criminals he was bent on bringing to justice.
 "I am sure you were very brave, Ray." He stated truthfully and Stan shrugged.
 "Anyway, bein' shackled like I was started ta wear me down and they kept the place really dark except when they were using me for a punching bag, so my mind started to play tricks on me, ya know?" again Fraser nodded. He understood that the solace he found in a still silence could be too much for others, and that people usually started inventing sounds and sights that were not really there to furnish their senses with whatever was being denied them.
 "They weren't feedin' me anything but one cup of water a day. I knew I was getting' weak from hunger and probably dehydrated and all the stories Victoria started fillin' my head with started making sense for some reason. Then she started to let me watch the two of you."
 Fraser lowered his eyes away, unable to meet his friend's gaze as memories flooded him of the things that Victoria had forced him to do. The idea that Ray had seen any of it was still very difficult for Fraser to deal with.  How he hated that woman for doing what she did, for ruining their lives.
 "I...I guess it got to be too much then, Frase." Stan sighed as he respected his partner's embarrassment and stared out at the water once more. "I was starting to feel claustrophobic from being in that damn room day in and day out. Then...then when they came in and...."
 Fraser cast the blond a tortuous glance; he knew what was coming next. He had watched them brutally rape his friend and that was when he had decided to do whatever he had to in order to keep Ray from being harmed further.
 "They...well, they did what they did and I think that was what finally pushed the nail in my coffin, buddy." Stan sighed. "I...I couldn't think I couldn't react, afterwards I was just numb. The only thing I could feel was fear and I felt so...ashamed for letting them do that to me."
 "Ray," Fraser scolded a hint of anger in his voice. "You didn't let them you were weak and they were much stronger. You couldn't have stopped them."
 "I...I know you're right Fraser," he allowed. "But at the time..." he shrugged. "Well, anyway, this other guy, the one that brought me the water and every now and then he'd slip me some food, he...well I guess he started to like me or to feel guilty about what they were doing to me."
 "He helped you escape." Fraser supplied quietly and Stan nodded.
 "Yeah but I...I had to do something for him first." Fraser frowned
 "W...what did you have to do, Ray?" he probed and watched his partner's face pale as he lowered his eyes and refused to meet Fraser's. "Oh, Ray." How awful for him to have had to use his already bruised body to bargain for his freedom.
 Fraser felt he might be sick and the urge to do so forced him from the car. Although he didn't actually throw up, he did end up bent over beside the water trying to gulp clean air into his lungs, or as clean as Chicago's air could be. He legs were shaking so badly he was hard pressed to even remain standing, until he felt a strong arm go around his back and slowly lower him to his knees. Stan knelt beside him, taking the handkerchief from Fraser's pocket and pouring the bottle of water he retrieved from the car over it, pressing it to the pale Mounties's face.
 "It's okay." He soothed. "I'm glad I had this in the car, I don't think you want me to wet it from the river." Fraser almost smiled as Stan wiped the cool cloth over his face.
 "The quality of the water alone would probably kill me." He recalled hoarsely, as Stan knew he would. "I...I am sorry Ray I don't know what...what has come over me."
 "I do." Stan sighed, as they unfolded their knees and sat down in a more comfortable position. "I was this way for about a year, every time I thought of you as a matter of fact."
 "You hate me that much, Ray?" Fraser whispered wretchedly.
 "I thought I did, Fraser." Stan admitted. "But it wasn't hate, it was...it was a lot of different things that I guess my brain transformed into hate. I felt betrayed, I felt lost without you. I felt I had let you down by not being able to find where you were, and then running from Victoria and leaving you behind. I was still thinking about all the crap that she filled my head with and still picturing you and her together. I felt stupid to have let her get to me; I felt...I just felt so many things that I could only perceive it as hate or rage. Unfortunately I chose to direct all that toward you because you were the one I cared about most, the one I kept seeing during all that suffering."
 "Oh God, Ray!" Fraser exclaimed distressed. "I...I wish I...I never...I don't deserve..." Stan silenced him by placing his fingers over the Mounties lips.
 "It doesn't matter now, Fraser." He promised. "I...I need to finish telling you a few things and then...then we can move on and try and forget it okay?" Fraser wiped at the tear that had started to roll down his cheek and nodded gravely. "The rest you pretty much know, falling out the window, the acid, the cellar and Beth. What you don't know is because of all these I've...well I've developed a few fears that I need to work on."
 "We'll work on them together, Ray." Fraser vowed and Stan smiled shyly.
 "Well, I have trouble sleeping alone, Fraser." He began. "But then you already found that out. Sometimes I'm okay and I just sleep straight through, other times I wake up in a panic, especially if it's dark and I just need to know someone else is in the room with me, so all I'm hearing is not just my own breathing, y'know?" Fraser nodded.
 "You need the window's open." he supplied kindly and Stan nodded.
 "Sometimes, whether I am awake or asleep something triggers my memory in the cellar and all I can smell is mildew, rotting vegetables and my own sweat and blood, it gets to be to much so I need fresh air to kind of dispel it."
 "Understood, Ray." Fraser replied. "I enjoy fresh air myself." Stan smiled.
 "At least I'm not afraid of water anymore, though." He offered and Frase smiled. "I actually like it now and I'm a much better swimmer then when you first taught me. Beth and I even went scuba diving a few times."
 "That's wonderful, Ray." Fraser assured pleased and Stan shrugged.
 "I think because it makes me think I'm washing things away, y'know? Like nothing bad can cling to me if I'm in the water because it seems so pure." Fraser understood that sentiment very well indeed; he felt the same way about snow. "Unless ya swim in that water," Stan added grinning as he indicated lake before them. "Then ya come out with more stuff then you brought in." Fraser chuckled and it felt so good to do so.
 "Is there anything else, Ray?" he asked still smiling.
 "Well, if I wasn't claustrophobic before I definitely am now." He teased. "But other than that and...and the nightmares I have sometimes, I think I'm doin' okay." He reached over and enfolded Fraser's large hand in his. "I think we'll both be doing okay from now on." Fraser smiled at him as they stared longingly into each other's eyes, silently communicating a new beginning for them both, until Fraser looked away guiltily.
 "Ray I..." he began chewing his lip. "I did something...well that may seem like prying, before."
 "I know, ya saw the letters I was reading that you sent Beth." Stan acknowledged easily. "That's okay, it wasn't like I was trying to hide them and they were your letters, Fraser."
 "Well it was still an invasion of your privacy, Ray." Fraser determined but his friend simply shrugged.
 "Beth gave them to me to read after she started getting really sick and I am glad I did." He stated. "I'm glad you didn't let my stubbornness ruin it for us, Frase." Fraser nodded, then lowered his eyes again.
 "There...there is something else, Ray." He informed reluctantly. "I...I don't want there to be any secrets between us. I...I found a video that Beth made...regarding your recovery."
 "Did you watch it?" Stan asked and Fraser searched his voice for the anger he was sure would be there.
 "I...I...yes, I did I am sorry." He revealed. "I...I wanted to understand and...I know you can probably not forgive me because it was something so personal and..."
 "Fraser."
 "Yes, Ray?"
 "It's okay." He assured chuckling. "I left it there for you to watch, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist." Fraser's eyes grew wide in shock.
 "But...but why, Ray?" he demanded confused.
 "It was really hard for me to watch it the first time." Stan replied.  "But Beth sat me down, I think just before we left for Newfoundland actually, and made me watch it. I know it sounds weird but it made it seem less important for me. I knew it had happened, I went through it, but seeing myself on tape and the things I had to do to get better, I realized that I could survive anything, since I had survived that. It gave me closure, Frase, I guess I hoped it would do that for you too."
 "I...I had imagined so much, Ray." Fraser whispered as another tear escaped his eye. "I...I think the things I envisioned were always so much worse then what they truly were, but not knowing...I felt I couldn't understand your pain because I had not suffered with you. When...when I watched the tape I...Oh Ray I just felt as though my heart had been ripped out of my chest and I cried for so long I didn't think I would ever stop. Then...then afterwards, I suppose I started putting it in perspective, seeing you in a new light and perhaps that was in a way closure, because I felt closer to you then, as I had wanted to."
 "I didn't want to make you feel bad over it, Fraser." Stan assured. "But I am glad you now know what I went through, at least mostly. I wasn't looking for sympathy, just understanding, does that make sense?" Fraser nodded.
 "Perfect sense, Ray." He returned squeezing his friend's hand affectionately.
 "This mean we're partner's again, Frase?" he asked hesitantly. "Are we good now?"
 "We're good, Ray." Fraser agreed warmly, his heart over flowing to bursting capacity. "We are very, very good now."
 "Partner's forever, Buddy?' Stan suggested and Fraser smiled.
 "Forever, Ray." He promised and was rewarded with one of his friend's special smiles, as the rose to their feet.
 "Then pitter patter, Fraser." He offered slapping a hand around the Mounties's shoulders. "Let's get att'er, places to go things to see."
 "Right you are, Ray." Fraser agreed joyfully. "Very right you are." He had his Ray back and he could not be happier.