Stay      Stay

 by Callie

  

 Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/callinuk

 Disclaimer: Due South and all of its characters belong to Alliance
Communications

 Author's Notes: 

 Story Notes: From Fraser's point of view

 This story is a sequel to: Run to Him 

 

 I want him to stay with me...... 

 Now that he has run to me, I don't want him ever to leave. I want him to
stay. But I can't help feeling a little ashamed of myself because it took
Ray running to me, hurt and in pain, to be brave and bold enough to admit
what I have known for a long time. I love him. I always have. And I know
in my heart that I always will. 

 I can't help grinning foolishly to myself at the thought. I repeat the
words in my head - I love Ray. Ray loves me. I grin again - it sounds so
right. 

 I glance over to my bed and the object of my love. Ray is sleeping. I
frown to myself worried - it is not a restful slumber. He is mumbling
incoherently and his body twitches as he moves. He screws up his face as
if in pain, his body tensing. I tried to make him as comfortable as
possible by cushioning his injured arm and leg with extra pillows, but his
restless movements aren't helping. 

 I reach forward and brush my hand lightly over his face and up into his
hair. He relaxes slightly as he leans into my caress mumbling my name.
"Yes Ray. I'm here," I whisper. "Go back to sleep." He mumbles my name
again as he turns onto his back with a soft moan. 

 I know that Ray is a strong and brave person - he has proved it to me
many times in so many different ways. Beth Botrelle springs immediately to
my mind - he was so courageous and determined as he fearlessly stood up to
everyone to prove that she was innocent. He told me later, after she was
released, that he felt like he had put a wrong right. 

 But tonight as he lays in my bed, Ray looks fragile and vulnerable, a
victim of his own private war. His face is drawn and pale with darkish
circles under his eyes. I run my hand across his temple - he is slightly
hot to the touch, and I hope that he is not getting sick. I pull the
comforter up higher to keep him warm. 

 Satisfied I sit back to continue my vigil stretching my legs out as I
make myself comfortable in the easy chair. I allow my mind to drift as I
recall the events that brought Ray running to me. 

 My Inspector had insisted that I have a day off, and I was aimlessly
wandering the apartment, having cleaned it from top to bottom. I was
debating whether to do the grocery shopping when Lieutenant Welsh had
called me to say that Ray had disappeared without a word to anyone. He
sounded concerned, saying that Ray's parents were beside themselves with
worry. But he had a gut feeling, as he put it, that Ray was probably on
his way to me. I could feel myself blushing at his intuition. 

 All thoughts of shopping had gone from my mind as the lieutenant
explained the events of the past week. I remember feeling angry with Ray
for not telling me that he was hurt, only just managing to contain my
usual calm as I listened with growing horror to the lieutenant's account
of Ray's encounter with two thugs in a mini-market. 

 After promising the lieutenant that I would call him if Ray turned up, I
hung up and began to pace the apartment restlessly. Unwittingly I found
myself at the window on numerous occasions, my face pressed up against the
glass, looking up and down the street waiting for Ray to appear. 

 I knew without a doubt, deep within me, that Ray was running to me. In
the same way that I would to run him if I was in trouble. And I knew at
that moment that I loved and needed him. For months now, we had been
denying our feelings for each other, preferring to remain best friends and
partners, both afraid to love again, frightened of destroying the
friendship we had found with one another. 

 I cursed myself for being a coward and not telling him how much I loved
and needed him. And now he was hurting. I wrapped my arms around myself -
all I wanted to do was protect him, help him and hold him tight. I hoped I
wasn't too late. 

 On my three-hundredth circuit of the small living room, I was beginning
to feel a little dizzy, and had half decided to take a cab to the airport
to find Ray. With a resigned sigh, I glanced out of the window yet again,
and was relieved to see Ray struggling to get out of a cab. Lieutenant
Welsh, and my heart, had been right - Ray had run to me. 

 It took all my self-control and restraint not to run down the stairs and
hug him hard. But I sensed that Ray had to take the final steps. He had to
come to me. I heard him in the hallway. I couldn't help it; I couldn't
wait any longer - I flung the door open. 

 Ray looked wild eyed - desperation and misery seeming to play in the
blueness. But he knew - I saw it in his eyes - he knew that someone had
called me, and a look of embarrassment flashed across his features. I
smiled at him, ignoring his expression, as I took his bag and coaxed him
into the apartment. As I lay his bag on the armchair, I studied him out of
the corner of my eye. He looked nervous and ill as he stared down at his
feet, leaning heavily on his crutch. His right arm was encased in a
plaster cast, and I could just see the outline of heavy bandaging around
and below his left knee. 

 Straightening up, I moved forward to touch him but he flinched away from
me. I spoke his name softly and he looked up at me, his eyes wet with
unshed tears. I repeated his name and he began to sob uncontrollably, the
tears streaming down his pale face. I adopted my best determined Mountie
expression, as Ray calls it, pulling him towards me as he continued to sob
wretchedly, his body trembling with anguish. He dropped his crutch as he
wrapped his fist into my shirt clinging to me as though he would never let
me go. I hope he never does. 

 He didn't even notice as I slowly moved him towards the couch making him
sit down. Wrapping my arms around him, I gently rubbed his back as he
choked out the pain and misery of the last week. 

 I held him tight until the storm started to die down whispering what I
hoped were soothing words. As his desperate sobs turned to hiccups and
sniffs, I scolded him gently for not telling me that he had been hurt. 

 I whispered that I would always be there for him. He continued to cling
to me as he looked up into my face telling me he was sorry over and over.
I told him that he was safe as I caressed his face and hair. He smiled up
at me, although I could still see the storm in his eyes, and his smile was
sad. 

 I had waited so long for this moment. And I couldn't resist him any
longer. I leaned forward claiming his lips in a soft kiss as I tightened
my hold of him. He leaned into me returning the kiss, and I could taste
the salt of his tears as I kissed him trying to soothe away the pain and
hurt he felt. As we kissed, it felt like I had finally come home. That I
had been waiting for this moment and this man all of my life. I prayed
that Ray felt the same. 

 After we drew apart from our tender kisses, Ray slumped against me. I
held him tightly as the exhaustion of the last few days finally overtook
him watching as he drifted in and out of sleep. He was too tired to
protest when I insisted that he should be in bed. I made him take some
more pain killers before half carrying him into my bedroom. Sitting him on
the edge of the bed, I carefully stripped him down before settling him
under the comforter, cushioning his leg and arm with extra pillows. 

 A loud moan startles me out of my reverie. "Nooooo," Ray cries as he
moves his head from side to side. "No," he cries again. I jump up from the
chair perching on the edge of the bed. 

 "Ray," I shake his shoulders gently. Still immersed in the terror of his
dream, he struggles against me. "Ray," I say more firmly. "It's Fraser.
Ray." His eyes snap open, and I can see the terror and confusion reflected
in their paleness. "It's alright Ray. I'm here," I soothe gently caressing
his face, relieved to find that his skin has cooled. 

 "My hands," he mutters as he looks up into my eyes. He struggles into a
sitting position blinking his eyes, sleep and the nightmare still muddling
his brain. "My hands," he repeats as he peers down into the dimness. 

 "Ssshh," I comfort as I tug him towards me. "There's nothing wrong with
your hands," I assure him. "It was just a bad dream." 

 "But.... but the blood," he wails pulling away from me. "There's so much
blood. I can't stop it. I can't stop it. I tried.... but there was so
much." I can hear the panic and fear in his voice. 

 I shift slightly turning on the lamp on the bedside table bathing the
room in a soft glow. I take hold of both his hands. I can feel him
trembling. "Look Ray," I say making sure that he is watching me. "There's
no blood." I bring each of his hands up to my lips in turn kissing each
finger softly, taking extra care with his bruised fingers. "It was just a
bad dream," I look back to his pale face. I continue to hold his hands. 

 I can see the reluctance in his eyes as he looks down towards his hands.
He stares at them for a long time, as if he expects the blood to suddenly
appear. I sit patiently stroking my fingers over his hands softly,
reassuringly. He looks back up at my face. His eyes are wet with tears,
and I think my heart might break at the pain I can see reflected. But I
know it is my turn to be strong. 

 "Sorry," he mumbles looking away from me. "I just.... just can't get it
outta my head." I sit quietly gently squeezing his good hand in
encouragement. He turns back to me. "I just keep seeing that little kid
covered in his.... his mum's blood. And I hear....hear him crying for her.
And I couldn't do anything. I tried. I did. I really tried," he looks at
me earnestly as if he is willing me to believe him. 

 I nod. "I know you tried Ray," I say softly squeezing his hand again. "I
know you did everything you could." 

 "But she died right in front of my eyes," he insists. "And I ..... I
couldn't help her. A little kid is without ... without his mum because I
couldn't help," he turns away from me again biting at his lower lip. 

 "Ray," I shake his hands to get his attention. "Look at me." He turns his
head back towards me hesitantly, still biting at his lip nervously. 

 "From what Lieutenant Welsh tells me, nobody could have helped her. She
was too badly injured," I say gently. "You did your best. It wasn't your
fault. Now you have to start forgiving yourself." 

 "But...," he goes to protest, but I silence him with a finger over his
lips. 

 "I know you won't forget easily, but I'll be here. I'll help you. I want
to help you. If you'll let me," I say cocking my head to one side. 

 He seems to consider for a moment before nodding. "OK," he mumbles as a
tear slips out of the corner of his eye. I lift a hand brushing it away,
catching a second tear as it runs unchecked down his face. "Are ya sure
you wanna be involved with .... with a mess?" he half grins at me. 

 "Are you sure you want to be involved with?" I pause for a moment. "Now
what do you call me?" I smile back at him. "Ahhh yes. A freak." 

 "Oh yeah," he chokes back a laugh wiping at his face with his good hand.
"I can do that. I'll risk it." He looks at me, his expression is shy and
hopeful. 

 I lean forward until I'm almost touching his lips. "If you'll risk it. So
will I," I whisper leaning closer as I brush my lips over his. He moans
slightly as our lips join in a kiss. 

 As we break apart, he looks up at me pleading. "Lay with me," he says
scooting over in the bed to make room for me. He groans slightly at the
effort. "Wanna hold ya," he opens his arms towards me. "Please." 

 I smile. It's an invitation I would never refuse. I quickly remove my
shirt and jeans and slip into the bed rolling towards him, taking care not
to knock his injured leg. It takes us a minute to get settled as we shift
around the bed trying to find an comfortable position for Ray's leg and
arm. 

 "Love you," he murmurs as he snuggles closer. "Glad I came to you." 

 "I am too," I kiss the top of his head as I wrap my arms around him. "And
I love you." I watch as he closes his eyes, a small smile playing on his
lips. I am determined to stay awake in case he needs me. 

 As dawn breaks, he is still lying in my arms asleep. He twitches and
mumbles softly, and I hear my name as he seems to move even closer to me.
I can't help grinning foolishly to myself as I luxuriate in the feel of
him, solid and warm against me. 

 I think I have been waiting for him all my life. And now he is here with
me. To stay. 

 THE END 

 Views to: callinuk@yahoo.com 

End Stay by Callie: callinuk@yahoo.com

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