Solitudes, by Viridian5  "Solitudes"
 By Viridian5
 10/19/99

 RATING: PG; Fraser/Kowalski. If m/m interaction bothers you, walk on by.
 SPOILERS: none.
 SUMMARY: Can you ever really go home again?
 DISTRIBUTION: Serge and Hexwood. If some kind person feels that this
story is appropriate for DSX and/or DIEF and wouldn't mind posting it,
that would be great as well. Anywhere else too, as long as you ask me
first.
 FEEDBACK: to Viridian5@aol.com
 DISCLAIMERS: All things _due South_ belong to Alliance no matter how much
I want Ray K to belong to me. No infringement intended, and I laugh
bitterly at the thought of being able to make a profit on *anything* I do,
thank you very much. Suing me would be a waste of time and wouldn't be
very nice of you. Besides, I'd just kick you in the head.
 NOTES: Written for the Circle Thingy! Inspired by a quote given to me by
Dawn Sharon. Read-through by Te, with some more advice from Laura.
 This would take place a bit before "Call of the Wild."

 =====================
 "Solitudes"
 By Viridian5
 =====================
 
 

If I filtered out the city's sounds enough, I could pretend I was home. If
I could ignore those candy wrappers, new-fallen on the snow that currently
hid so many other urban sins. And if I could ignore the children screaming
and pelting one another with snowballs over that hill. I only had to clear
my mind... My willing delusion faded as one of the children yelled
something shockingly profane at his comrades. 

 I ached for home, its seemingly endless expanse, its crisp clear air, its
wealth of wildlife, its quiet and directness. Life and decisions had been
more clear-cut there. 

 I couldn't help being surprised that it had taken me so long to miss my
home so deeply again. My first months in Chicago had been difficult, but
the emptiness had faded over time to something tolerable. But lately I
felt the city pressing in on me. 

 Suddenly Diefenbaker left my side in a wild dash. As I turned to see him
go, I noticed the familiar figure approaching. Ray hit the snow with a
yelp as Dief knocked him over. I had the sudden urge to greet Ray that way
myself, bowl him over in my joy at seeing him. Instead, I let Dief do it
for me. A gleeful, chaotic struggle followed, spraying plumes of white in
all directions. 

 "Fraser! Some help here?" Ray yelled. 

 "I wouldn't dream of it," I shouted back. 

 "That's not buddies!" 

 After waiting for a proper interval of time. I finally ran over and
separated them, unable to stop myself from smiling at the picture Ray
produced. He looked as if someone had sprinkled powdered sugar all over
him. Tiny ice crystals gleamed in his coat, jeans, hair, and face, but not
as brightly as his eyes or smile. As he stood up, he muttered something
about overgrown puppies mugging him, but he laughed as he said it. 

 "Dienfenbaker," I chided, but my companion didn't even bother to look
chastened. He knew I didn't truly mean it. "I'm sorry, Ray." 

 "You should see the other guy," Ray said, just before he stepped back to
stand beside Diefenbaker and shook the snow off himself, canine-style, at
the wolf. Greatly offended, Dief bounded away. Ray stopped and put his
hand to his head. "Whoa. That ain't as easy as it looks. Dizzy." He leaned
against me for support, and I smiled again. He had that effect on me. 

 I must have lost track of time if Ray had finished his shift and found
the time to look for me. "How did you find me?" 

 "Went to the Consulate first. Rennie said you were getting that look
again, so I knew to check out here." 

 "I have a look?" 

 "Yeah. Like yer body's here, but yer eyes are looking out over the
Territories." Under the affectionate teasing, concern and fear lurked. 

 Ray worried. Worried about me, about my happiness, about my homesickness.
Worried that his love might not be enough for me. Worried that I might
leave him. Worried that I might not leave for home when I should because
of him, and I would suffer for it. 

 It took me time to see that the city had solitude too, a solitude that
could be crippling. It just had nothing to do with silence and physical
isolation and everything to do with mental, spiritual, isolation. Ray once
said that "no alone was as lonely as being alone in a crowd." I realized
that I'd often felt that way myself, utterly alone, around my
grandparents, much as they'd loved me. I believed that a solitude of that
sort had driven Ray to jettison his own life to carry on another man's. 

 We never would have found one another otherwise, but I saw it as my
life's mission to make sure Ray was never left alone like that again. 

 He would let me go home if he thought I needed it; he would give me up.
It would hurt him, but I knew he loved me so deeply he would give anything
to make me happy. I felt the same way about him and would do the same. 

 I realized something that I had actually known, deep in my heart, for
some time. At this moment, I no longer felt that quite so much was
missing. Going home while leaving Ray here wouldn't make me happy.
Solitude had lost some of its charms for me. I had been alone, physically
or mentally, most of my life, never knowing there could be another way,
never understanding why I felt vaguely dissatisfied. Asking me if I felt
lonely then would have been like asking a man who could only perceive the
world in black and white what the color blue looked like; he would lack
even the frame of reference necessary to answer. 

 My time in Chicago had shown me that I'd been missing something, but it
wasn't until Ray Kowalski agreed to share my life that I understood, in my
heart and blood, what that thing had been. 

 I couldn't just "go home" and be happy with that. Part of "home" was with
Ray. 

 I put my arm across his thin shoulders and pulled him close. "I just
needed to get away for a little bit." 

 He smiled. It amazed me how some of the smallest gestures could make him
happy. "Understood. Hey, you done with yer nature hike yet? I'm hungry."
He squirmed and mumbled, "How the hell does that wolf manage to get snow
inside my coat?" 

 Grinning, mask up, I moved away from him. I knew how I could reassure him
and distract myself from my brooding all at once. "I'm not hungry yet. I
think I need a little more exertion first." 

 "Yeah? Like what?" 

 In one swift move, I bent, scooped up some snow into a ball, and hit him
with it point blank. "That might help," I answered as I gave him my best
Innocent Mountie look. 

 Ray blew snow off his face. "Yer ass is toast, Ben." 

 "I don't know if you want to do that, Ray. You have so many other things
you like to do to my--" 

 He tackled me down into the snow. As we rolled, wrestling, giggling, I
protested, "You were supposed to throw a snowball back." Diefenbaker
barked and circled us, lending aid to one side and then the other. 

 "Yer the one who keeps saying I'm blind. This is evening the odds." 

 "You're tickling me! And getting snow under my coat!" 

 "Never said I would play *fair*, Mountie-boy." 

 But even as I enjoyed playing with Ray, I still brooded on the inside.
Home was the Yukon, but home was also Ray, who was city-bred to the bone,
whom I couldn't ask to make such a sacrifice on my behalf. 

 I couldn't see a way to reconcile the two. 

 

**********************THE END*********************** 

"Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet one
another."
 - Rilke's _Letters to a Young Poet_ 

More Viridian5 stories can be found in The Green Room at
http://members.tripod.com/~drovar/viridian/