v:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} o:*
{behavior:url(#default#VML);} w:* {behavior:url(#default#VML);} .shape
{behavior:url(#default#VML);}	 1		  Disclaimer: Due South
and its characters are owned by Alliance. I make no claim to them and
receive no profit for using them. 

Rated: PG-13, Fraser/VM 

Warning: Spoilers for VS. If you feel any sympathy for Victoria read on at
your own risk. 

 

  

Ride into Twilight: 

Past, Present, Future Part 2  

By Kelly Ward calico321@yahoo.com    

 Running. Running, running, running. He ran as he had never run before. At
first he could see nothing ahead of him. It was total darkness. Then in
the distance he could make out something, someone, beckoning him. "Come
with me..." He ran even faster, even harder, so hard it seemed as if his
heart would burst. She was there waiting for him, urging him on. "Come
with me..." Then he was there, almost there. Their fingertips touched, and
then their hands grasped and he felt free, alive, he knew everything was
right. She was smiling at him, she was happy he was with her, he chose her
over...She was gone, everything was gone, and he was falling. Falling.
Nothingness reached hands out to him and he fell into oblivion. Voices
surrounded him..."Come with me..." "I should be with her" "He said get me
to a hospital" "You think you could just pretend it didn't happen?" "Is
this your weapon, Constable?" "Hate, love, that just about covers it" "You
think you know her? You don't" "You'll regret it if you don't"
"Come...With...Me...." Falling, falling, falling...  

 "NOOOOOO...." The scream seemed to be ripped from his chest. He opened
his eyes to see he was no longer falling, just sitting straight up on his
thin mattress in his desolate apartment, sweat running down his face and
back; no, that wasn't sweat in his eyes, those were tears. They fell down
his checks and landed in his hands that were lying useless in his lap. The
stinging in his eyes did not seem to bother him nearly as much as the
feeling of the wet tears gathering in his palms. He became enraged,
flinging the wetness off of them, then wiping his eyes absently. He took a
deep breath and began to become oriented to his surroundings again.
Looking out the window he saw the lights of Chicago, someone was always
awake. In the room he took in his meager possessions the trunk that held
his valuables, the rug, the lamp, Dief. He did a double take at the wolf
who sat in the corner looking at him, both inquisitive and slightly aloof,
as if the happenings of humans were only slightly more interesting than
those of the birds. 

 "It was just a dream, a stupid dream. Nothing to be alarmed about," he
told the wolf. Dief seemed to contradict him with a low woof. "I don't
care that I have had it every night for the last week. I said it was
nothing to worry about, and I meant it. I don't want to discuss this
anymore." Well it didn't seem as if he'd be getting anymore sleep tonight.
He flipped on his lamp and a look at his watch told him it was three in
the morning. Well, this may very well be the earliest he'd gotten up, but
there was always plenty to do. He began getting his uniform ready. Work
would start soon, and he'd forget about the dream again. Hopefully. 

  ******************************** 

  

 Ray Vecchio waited in his 1971 Buick Riviera outside Benton Fraser's
apartment impatiently. He really didn't mind giving his friend a ride, but
he had things to do and he wanted to get a jump on them. There was still
some clean up on that jewelry heist last week and he was still trying to
track down Victoria. She was involved somehow, but Marta Reynolds wasn't
spilling the truth. She was a smart one all right; she'd put them on one
dead end after another. 

 Finally Fraser and Dief came out of the building, Fraser dressed in his
red Serge. The Sam Browne belt and his boots had a shine to them, as did
the brass buttons of the tunic. He was always a sharp dresser, but this
seemed a little anal even for Fraser. "Big day today?" Ray asked. 

 "What? No, just guard duty as usual," Fraser replied. Ray noticed the
darkness under his eyes that had started to appear about a week ago was
noticeably more pronounced. 

 "Benny are you feeling ok? You look a little ill," Ray asked. 

 "I feel fine, but thank you for asking Ray." In the back Dief whined.
"Quiet," Fraser told him under his breath. Ray just looked at him
curiously. 

 "I could use your input on that case if you have some extra time today,
that is if you're interested," Ray asked hesitantly. Knowing the history
between Victoria and Fraser, Ray wasn't sure if he'd want to be involved
anymore. 

 "I don't think that would be wise, Ray," Fraser replied. 

 "Ok, forget I asked. Listen, you want to get lunch with me today? There's
a new Mexican restaurant a couple of blocks from the consulate, I could
meet you there..." 

 "No thank you Ray, I have a lot of paperwork that needs to be done, so
I'll work through lunch today, but thank you for asking." 

 "Well, I could bring you some take-out. You don't have to starve because
of the Dragon Lady do you?" 

 "No thank you Ray. But it was kind of you to offer." 

 "Benny, are you still upset because of that jewelry heist? You know we
caught that Reynolds woman thanks to you? Although I was a little upset
you couldn't confide in me, but I understand. So I'd understand if you
were a little down in the dumps, you know, about her." They had pulled in
front of the consulate and Ray looked at Fraser expectantly. 

 "I'm fine Ray, but I do appreciate your concern. I just think it would be
best if I kept my distance at this point. Thank you kindly for the ride."
With that he got out of the car, let Dief out, put his Stetson squarely on
his head and went up the steps to the building. All Ray could think was,
This is far from over. Yet he could do nothing but let his friend work it
out himself or come to him for help. He put the Riv in gear and drove to
the station. ******************************** 

 Benton Fraser, RCMP, stood guard outside the Canadian Consulate as he had
done numerous times in the past. He stood rigid with eyes straight ahead,
not responding to anyone or anything around him. Normally he used this
time to resolve cases he and his detective friend were working on. This
time his mind was elsewhere. 

  

 He's standing on the platform next to the train. The train that would
take her out of his life forever if he allowed it. She was not going to
let him stop her. He either had to shoot or let her go. She grabs the
handrail as the train starts leaving the station, and then she says, "Come
with me, Ben. You'll regret it if you don't." She holds out her hand. His
mind races, but his heart leads. It propels his legs to start running. He
knows he can't let her out of his life once more, not again. As he runs
after her the train accelerates but he manages to increase his speed as
well. She reaches for him and finally he is able to take her hand and with
one final burst he leaps up to the train with her...and it is then that he
feels the bullet rip through him. His strength leaves and he falls off,
wounded by the bullet and the knowledge she is lost to him forever. 

 He has relived the moment over and over again, wondering what would
happen if Ray's bullet had missed its mark. He knew it was futile, but the
obsession drove him on anyway. 

  ********************************   

 People continuously walked up and down the busy street. One mother with
her young son happened by. "Look Mommy, that's a statue," the child
remarked. "No Dear, that's a man, he's guarding that building. Come along,
don't stare," she replied. "No, no, no, Mommy, he's not real. Look." The
boy ran over to Fraser and kicked him in the leg. "Steven!" the mother
exclaimed as she reached for the boy and picked him up. "That was a very
bad thing to do! You apologize this instant." The boy began to cry,
"Mommy, he's not real! Can't you tell? He's not there." He sniffled and
buried his head in his mother's neck. She looked up at the Mountie and
said, "I am terribly sorry, Sir. He usually doesn't act like this."
Silence from Fraser. She started to walk away, then turned back and leaned
in a little closer. The eyes, there was something about the eyes...She
shook her head and thought, Don't be ridiculous! "I really am sorry he
kicked you," she apologized again, and then walked off to meet her husband
for lunch. But sometime in the night she would awaken terrified by a dream
she couldn't remember, with the word "eyes" on her lips. 

  ********************************  Fraser had declined Ray's offer of
dinner, requesting to go straight home. 

 "Are you sure, Benny? Ma's making her specialty. Frannie's even baking a
cake, don't know if I'd care to try it, but at least she's trying." 

 "No thank you, Ray, I'd prefer a quiet evening alone," Fraser replied 

 "Whatever you say, but if you ask me, you're spending entirely too much
time alone." 

 "Understood. Have a good evening Ray." He and Dief got out of the car and
headed up to the apartment. Ray watched them go with a sense of dread. 

That night the dream came back. But this time something had changed. 

  

  

 Running. Fingertips brush, hands clasp, a final leap. He had finally
caught up with her. They were both on the train riding toward destiny.
There was a gunshot, but it only hit the side of the train. She pulled him
into the car and they found seats near the back, away from the other
passengers. She was smiling and hugging him. "You did it. I knew you could
do it!" And he kissed her, a long deep kiss full of passion as well as
sorrow for a past that could never be undone, but also hope for a future
waiting to be lived. They parted and he looked deeply into her eyes. "I
could not watch you go again. I'll never leave you again." "I know you
won't," she said smiling that smile, the one that was both endearing and
threatening. He felt chills down his spine. 

 They road the train as far as it took them, then departed with the other
passengers. An older couple looked at them fondly. "Your honeymoon,
dears?" the woman asked. "Yes," they responded as one, even though neither
had discussed it. The old woman said, "You two look so happy. I know
you'll have a strong and happy marriage. Good luck to you both." She
reached up and kissed them each on the cheek, and then her husband took
her elbow and tipped his hat at them. They walked off. 

 "What shall we do for food?" he asked. 

 "Don't worry, darling, I have some money stashed away. Of course we could
have really used those diamonds." The look she gave him was not
attractive, and he felt that chill again. 

 "But that money is stolen," he said to her. 

 "We'll be long gone before they trace it, don't worry," she said,
softening again. She put her arm through his and started leading him
through the train station to the exit. 

 "We're fugitives, aren't we?" he asked, stopping for a moment and
blinking, trying to orient himself to his surroundings. Where were they
exactly? 

 "I've told you not to worry, Benton, we'll be fine. Your precious skin
won't spend a day in prison. I'll protect you." Her eyes narrowed and she
looked...she looked...feral. Benton found himself actually swallowing the
lump forming in his throat. 

 "You wouldn't turn me in would you? Are you still angry with me? What do
you want??" His confusion upset him. He couldn't seem to think straight.
The only real thing was the woman with the flowing black hair standing in
front of him. The woman he loved. Didn't he? 

 "Of course not, Ben! I would never do such a thing." Again her face
softened, and she reached up and kissed him on the nose and then on the
mouth. "You made the choice to come with me. You chose me over them. I
love you." He put his arms around her. How could he think such a thing?
This was his soul mate. She made him whole. He could breath easier just
holding her close to him. Things started to clear up for him. Never in his
life had he needed glasses, but it seemed as though for a moment his
vision had become blurry, like the edges had started to shrink inward, but
now everything was crystal clear. He just needed sleep. As if she
possessed ESP she said, "You look beat, let's get a room and start our new
life together tomorrow. Tonight is for celebration." Her smile was like
the sunshine, warm and bright. He smiled in return and nodded his
agreement. They hailed a cab outside and asked for the closest motel room.
 

 The room was comfortable, not lavish, but well appointed. They settled in
(with what few belongings they had) and ordered room service. Benton had
just turned on the television when there was a knock at the door and
someone said... 

 "FRASER! Are you in there?! BENNY!!" Bang, Bang. "Benny, it's me, Ray!
Open the door!" No answer. Ray was just about panicking. When Fraser
didn't appear this morning after a half an hour of waiting, Ray went in
search of him. Dief alternately whined, barked, and scratched at the door.
Ray tried to turn the knob. Locked. When had he started locking his door?
Ray couldn't remember, but it made him sad to think about it. 

 Mr. Mustafi came out of his apartment, awakened by the commotion. "What
is problem?" he asked as he wrapped a threadbare robe around himself.  

 "Call 911 now!" Ray hollered at him. "Tell them officer down, send
paramedics immediately. Do it now!" He practically pushed the older man
back into his apartment. Ray hoped he was not making a serious mistake,
but when the life of his best friend was at stake, he'd risk anything. 

 Ray stood in front of Fraser's door and leaned back. He brought his leg
up and kicked out with all his might. The old wood around the door casing
was no match, and the splintering sound echoed down the hall. Other
neighbors started coming out to see what the Mountie was up to now. 

 Ray ran into the room and found Fraser lying on top of his bed, fully
clothed with his hands folded over this chest, eyes closed. Ray's heart
skipped a beat. He wouldn't have! was Ray's first thought. He walked to
the bed in three quick strides of his long legs and reached down to touch
Fraser's neck. It was there, a pulse strong and regular. Ray let out a
breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He put a hand on each of the
Mountie's shoulders and shook them. "Benny! Wake up!" Nothing. He shook
harder. One of Fraser's hands fell off his chest and his knuckles rapped
sharply against the wood floor. Nothing. Ray felt the panic building up
again. He could hear sirens growing louder in the distance, but what could
they do? He slapped Fraser hard across the face leaving a red print of his
hand. Nothing. "Benny, what's the matter with you?" he asked his inanimate
friend and partner dejectedly as the paramedics began filing into the
room. 

 "Please step aside detective and let us do our job," one of them said as
they quickly started to assess the situation, taking vital signs and
checking for any sign of violence. Ray just backed up into the kitchen
area until he hit the wall. He stood there blinking and wondering. Finally
one of the paramedics came up to him and said... 

 "Room Service!" 

 "Great!" Victoria said. "I'm starved." She went over to the door and let
the waiter in with his cart. The plates were covered with chrome tops. She
started lifting them to inspect the meal. "Looks delicious," she
pronounced as Fraser paid the man. 

 "Thanks a lot," he said as he left when he saw the substantial tip he'd
been given. 

 "Now, where were we?" Victoria asked, slipping her arms around Fraser. He
closed his eyes and breathed deep her scent and the feel of her weight as
she leaned against him. It made him feel so alive, so real. He lifted her
head and kissed her. 

 "We wouldn't want the food to get cold now, would we?" he asked her
playfully, while twisting a strand of her hair around his fingers. He
loved her hair: the feel of it, like fine silk, the look of it, like a
dark waterfall, beautiful and dangerous at the same time. 

 "We've eaten food colder. I think it can wait," she replied. 

 "Understood," he said, then picked her up and carried her to the bed. 

  ********************************  Time passed. If pressed hard Fraser
couldn't recall exactly how much time, but that didn't really matter. No,
what mattered is that they were together. And it was good time, at least
most of it was. They moved from city to city. You can't stay in one place
when you're a fugitive from justice. But Fraser never allowed himself to
dwell on that fact. When it happened that he did feel a little, well,
guilty, he started to feel physically ill. His vision blurred, the
headache started, and sometimes he even threw up. But the headache was the
worst. Sometimes it was there for no reason at all. It was like a thousand
voices in his head, all talking at the same time. Once in a while he could
catch a word or two, but they never made sense, and, besides, he had
become good at ignoring things anyway. 

 Ignoring things like where the money was coming from. Victoria's "stash"
had long since run out, but they never lacked. He began to question
himself about the circumstances of their life, but *BAMB* the headache
came. Still he would not let it go and he brought it up to her. 

 "How are we making money?" he started the conversation. She immediately
stopped unpacking the groceries in the kitchenette area of the motel room
and glared at him. "Where do you go when you leave? What are you doing?"  

 "Why?" she questioned. There again was the narrowing of the eyes, the
wildness. 

 "I was thinking I could help," he said, but with great difficulty. His
chest started to constrict and he had to breathe with effort. I'm stronger
than this, he said to himself. "Maybe get a job. Why do I have to stay
indoors all the time?" 

 "What?!?" She screamed, and flew across the floor to come face to face
with him. The anger seething out of her was palatable. "Do you hear what
you're saying? You'll be arrested in an instant!" She poked him in the
chest with her index finger for emphasis. 

 "Why?" he asked. "They can't possibly know about me all the way out
here," he gestured with his arms, and then let them drop. "Where is here
anyway?" he asked. 

 "Never mind where you are! You had better only worry about the fact that
you are a fugitive from the law, and this it the safest place for you to
be. I can't protect you if you go outside!" she gestured towards the door.


 "I am not the criminal here, you are," he said, unconsciously
straightening his shoulders. 

 "WHAT!" she hissed. Her hand slapped him across the face with a hideous
crack and... 

 His entire body convulsed in the hospital bed then settled back into the
pillows. Ray was startled awake by the movement. "Benny? Benny, are you
awake?" he asked hopefully. Fraser laid still, his breathing smooth and
even. The hustle and bustle of the emergency room of Cook County General
Hospital continued. He was about to go in search of a nurse when one
walked into the room with a young woman following. 

 "Detective Vecchio, this woman said she's your sister," Nurse Carol
Hathaway said. 

 "Yea, yea, she's alright. Listen, he moved a minute ago, like a seizure
or something. Shouldn't the doctor examine him again?" he asked. The nurse
walked over to Fraser and checked his vitals then his pupils. 

 "I don't think it's anything to be alarmed about. He seems pretty stable
now. If he should make any more movements give us a call. In the meantime
I'll make a note in his chart and have a doctor stop by as soon as one's
free." She smiled at both of them, and then left the room. 

 Francesca Vecchio walked over to the bedside and took one of his limp
hands. The Mountie lay there motionless, still in the trousers and
undershirt he was wearing when the EMTs brought him in; the red serge and
boots had been removed. Machines surrounded the bed monitoring heart,
respiratory, and brain activity. Their sound had been turned off, but the
machines were daunting nonetheless. "How long has he been like this?" she
asked her brother.  

 "About two hours now. He was fine when I dropped him off last night. I
mean maybe he was a little depressed, you know about that whole jewelry
heist thing, but I dunno. How could he have done this to himself, to us?"
Ray shook his head hopelessly. How could he save his friend from himself? 

 "How do you know he did it to himself? Was there any sign of pills or
anything?" she asked him. 

 "No, nothing. That's the strange thing. Their toxicology reports all came
back negative. And the EEG shows plenty of brain activity. They're gonna
admit him as soon as a bed's free." Ray looked bewildered. "It's almost as
if he's just sleeping." Frannie walked over to her brother and put her
arms around him in comfort that only a sibling can provide. 

 "Maybe he has to work stuff out on his own. He'll be back when he's
ready," she said to him. 

 Ray was stunned at the statement of his younger sister. She was usually
vapid and self-serving, but this was an insightful and mature comment. And
maybe she was right. He hugged her back without replying. 

 Unknown to either party in the room, another individual stood in the
corner and watched them. He walked silently towards the bed and gazed down
at his son. He shook his head sadly. While they talked about what was
going on inside Benton Fraser's head, he knew. And he knew how dangerous
it could be. He closed his eyes, and if either Ray or Frannie had been
looking at him (or more specifically if they could have actually seen
him), they would have seen Sgt. Robert Fraser fade... 

 She was gone. Stormed out without word of destination or when she'd be
back. Maybe it was for the best. That fight had been the worst. He still
felt the sting where her palm and contacted his cheek. It burned, and he
put his hand over it as if to pull the heat out. How could things have
gone so wrong? Couldn't they just be happy together? Why was there always
something in the way? He sat in the nondescript chair in the nondescript
room of a motel he didn't know the name of in a town he couldn't place on
a map if his life depended on it, trying to put his thoughts in order. He
tapped at his forehead hoping to physically put his brain back in gear. He
knew at some point in his life he had been fairly sharp, quick to figure
things out, that's why he made such a good...what? What had he been? There
were few memories left. A man, tall, thinning hair, wisecracking, who was
that? A woman, petite with short dark hair, glasses and a scowl. He seemed
to remember her fondly, but he didn't know why, or even what her name was.
An image of a speeding train came to mind, but it didn't make any sense. 

 "Hello, Son." Fraser jumped up at the sound. He looked around quickly
until he spotted his father. Then he sighed in relief. 

 "What are you doing here Dad?" Fraser asked the ghost, sitting back down.


 "You remember me?" Fraser SR. asked. 

 "Of course I remember you, you're my father, don't be ridiculous," Fraser
said uneasily, because for a second he hadn't recognized the ghost of his
dead father. 

 "What about everything else you don't remember," Fraser SR. asked. 

 "I don't know what you're talking about. Anyway, Dad, what are you doing
here? Why did you follow me?" 

 "Here? Here is where you've always been, Son," was his reply. 

 "Don't be cryptic with me Dad. I really wish you'd leave me alone now."
Fraser got up and looked out the window. There didn't seem to be anything
outside. Fraser shook his head trying to clear it, looked again. It
looked...like everything was under water. He put a hand over his eyes. 

 "Don't you want to know what happened after you left, Benton?" Fraser SR.
asked his son. Fraser turned from the window to face his father and some
of the memories began filtering back in. 

 "After I left? What happened?" he asked in spite of the splitting pain in
his forehead. 

 "Well for starters, your Yank friend lost his home. His entire family
evicted because you jumped bail. His mother went to Florida to live with
her sister she can't stand. His older sister, Maria, and her husband split
up because of the stress. I hear the custody battle is pretty fierce. The
younger sister...what's her name, the annoying one?" 

 "Francesca." An image came to mind with the name. Flashy and brass, but
good nonetheless. He squeezed his eyes against the onslaught of the pain. 

 "That's right, Francesca. She faired a little better. She got married to
a well-to-do gentleman in their neighborhood. Name's Zuko I believe. Frank
Zuko. They seem to be happy together. Of course, she's started having a
lot of accidents. How many times can one person fall down a flight of
stairs, Benton?"  

 Fraser just groaned, the pain was so fierce. 

 "And Vecchio, he lost his badge permanently. That St. Laurent woman
brought him up on charges, but apparently there wasn't enough evidence and
the case was thrown out, but the damage had been done already, you know.
He was offered a position as a foot patrolman, but he turned it down flat,
really told them where to shove their offer." Fraser SR. paused to chuckle
at the thought. "He's selling used cars now. Pretty darn good at it if you
ask me." He looked at his son, clutching his head and rocking back and
forth, and decided to deliver the final blow. "Then of course there's your
wolf..." 

 Fraser's head jerked up. "Diefenbaker? What's happened to Diefenbaker? I
left Ray a letter asking him to look after Dief if anything happened to
me." 

 "Well now, he had a lot more to worry about didn't he? Besides there was
nothing the Yank could have done. Once your wolf woke up and found you
gone they couldn't control him. Guess he just went wild. Wouldn't eat or
drink, wouldn't let anyone near him. They finally had to put him down. It
was the merciful thing to do you know." 

 "Noooo," Fraser cried. He began to weep. That wolf had saved his life
countless times. He couldn't be gone. Fraser felt as if his heart would
break. 

 The door opened and there she was. Looking beautiful and deadly as usual.
She strode in defiantly. "What's the matter with you? Why are you crying?"
she asked disdainfully. It was then that she noticed the other figure in
the room. "Who are you? What on earth are you doing here?" she demanded. 

 "I've come to let my son her the truth about you once and for all. Your
lying has got to stop." 

 "Dad, what are you talking about?" Ben looked around confused. 

 "All the lies she's told you, even from the beginning. She led you to
believe she was forced to participate in that bank robbery. Why don't you
tell him who planned the heist?" 

 "Dad! I know Jolly was the mastermind behind the whole thing!" 

 "Oh, he came up with the idea all right, but who planned the details? Ask
yourself who survived and who didn't, who wound up with all the money.
Think about how she planned her revenge against you, every detail perfect.
1) She torches the cabin, *my* cabin, and leaves money to incriminate you
even before you see her in Chicago; 2) She lets you catch glimpses of her,
allowing all your feelings to surface, your guilt, opening that wound and
letting it fester; 3) She conveniently shows up and seemingly lets you off
the hook, then turns the knife, using your guilt against you; 4) You play
right into her hands, so she can eliminate her last obstacle, and destroy
you and your friend in the process. She's cunning and manipulative. No one
made her do anything, Benton. That's the way she is. You allowed yourself
to believe her lies, to believe that she was a product of mistreatment and
betrayal, but, Benton, she's the one who has betrayed you and your trust
in her." 

 "Don't listen to him, Ben!" Victoria screamed. "I love you, I did
everything for you." 

 "No you didn't. You did everything for yourself, Victoria." With that the
fog that had settled in his head began to lift. He took a deep breath and
began to look around. Why was he in this run down motel room with this
woman? What spell had she woven over him? He looked to his father for
support but he was gone. "I'm leaving," he said as he walked to the door
without a look back. 

 "No you aren't," she said in a low voice, almost a growl, his hand
stopped on the doorknob. He turned around to see her standing there
holding a gun at him, and he had a horrid sense of dj vu. "Come back here,
Ben. You're staying with me forever." 

 "I'm leaving," he repeated. He opened the door. 

 "I'll shoot!" 

 Without looking at her he took a step into the hall, which was amazingly
dark. "Do what you have to. I can't live like this anymore." One more
step, there didn't seem to be anything beneath his feet. Echoes of voices
filtered down the hall. 

 A hollow unreal voice from behind, "This is the End, Ben." The shot rang
out. 

 Falling...Falling...Falling... 

  ********************************  Ray and Frannie separated both wiping
tears from their eyes when the alarm sounded from Fraser's bedside.
Frannie jumped and Ray ran out into the hall to call for help, but as soon
as he opened the door the nurse burst in and immediately went to Fraser's
side. She checked his vital signs, then went to the door. "He's coding!
Get a crash cart in here! I need a doctor!" she yelled out into the hall.
"You two are going to have to leave," she said as she started ushering the
Vecchios out of the room, and propping the door open. 

 Several people hurried in pushing a cart with various supplies and a
cardiac defibrillator on it. Ray and Frannie stood in the hall looking in
and praying for their friend's life. The attending doctor, Mark Green,
rushed into the room and assessed the situation. "He's in V-Fib, get that
thing charged, start at 250." 

 "All set, Doctor," replied one of the nurses, handing him two paddles
attached to the machine with cords. 

 "Clear!" Dr. Green called out, then placed the paddles strategically on
the left side of Fraser's chest. Immediately his body convulsed in
reaction to the electric voltage that pulsed through him. The doctor
checked the cardiac monitor, which showed only slight alteration in
pattern. "300," he called. When the nurse had confirmed the machine was
charged he again called "Clear!" The paddles were placed and the body
convulsed. Nothing. 

 Frannie was crying, Ray held her in his arms talking under his voice.
"C'mon Benny, don't do this to us, you've got to make it, C'mon." Over and
over again, he tried to will his friend back. 

 Fraser Sr. stood beside the bed among the clutter of machines and
hospital staff, and looked down at his son. "Benton you've got to fight
this. Don't let her destroy you, she's not worth it, Son. You're stronger
than this. Fight damn it!" 

 Dr. Green felt that time was running out, but he would never let that
affect his efforts. "Again! 350," he called. "Clear!" He shocked his
patient once more, afraid they were going to loose this one, and not
understanding why. By all appearances he was healthy and strong, there was
no conceivable reason for his condition. For a few moments time seemed to
stand still. The monitor still showed no activity, he couldn't do it
again. The entire room was silent save the continued alarm of the heart
monitor, all breaths held in anticipation. The doctor was about to call
the time of death, when Fraser sat up in the bed, taking a deep gulp of
breath. One of the nurses screamed, almost upsetting the crash cart. 

 As the doctor checked his pulse, Fraser looked around the room in obvious
confusion. "Where am I?" he asked. 

 "You're in the hospital, Sir. How do you feel?" Dr. Green asked. 

 "Well, I feel fine considering I was shot in the back," Fraser replied. 

 "What!" the doctor exclaimed. "No one told me he had a gunshot wound." 

 "He didn't, Mark," Dr. Carter, the resident, answered. "He was brought in
in a comatose state, but he was checked thoroughly for any injuries and
none were found." 

 Green looked back at Fraser and asked, "Do you know what day it is?" 

 "Of course, it's..." Fraser blinked his eyes uncertainly. "I mean
yesterday it was...I'm sorry, I'm a little confused right now." He saw his
friends hovering in the doorway. "Ray, Francesca!" he called to them
happily. 

 "Benny! I'm so glad you're ok. You had us worried there for a minute,"
Ray said as he came to the bed. 

 "Ray, I'm glad to see you. I'm so sorry you lost your house and were
fired from your job. I'll do everything I can to make it up to you." He
turned to Francesca, "I hope you are happy in you marriage to Frank Zuko,
but if you need anything at all, please feel free to ask." 

 Ray and Frannie looked at each other in confusion. "Benny, did you hit
your head or something? We didn't loose the house and I still have my job.
And what on earth would make you think Frannie would ever marry Zuko?" 

 Before Fraser could answer Dr. Green captured his attention again. "Sir,
I'd like you to lie down, please, while we do a few tests. How many
fingers am I holding up?" He put his hand in front of Fraser's face with
the first three fingers showing. 

 "Three," Fraser promptly responded. 

 "Do you know what your name is?" the doctor asked as he checked Fraser's
pupils and listened to his heart. 

 "Benton Fraser. I am a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I
first came to Chicago on the..." 

 "That's good. Now Mr. Fraser do you have a headache, any blurred vision,
anything else?" 

 "No, Doctor, I feel fine." 

 "Any hallucinations?" 

 Before he could answer he noticed his father standing over the doctor's
shoulder. "Hi, Dad." 

 "Excuse me?" Dr. Green asked. 

 "I said, 'I did'. I mean I did have a hallucination. It was so real, so
vivid." He looked a Ray, "She was there, we were together." He hung his
head and sighed. "It was awful Ray. She's not the woman I thought she was,
it was all an illusion. She used me; she thought by seducing me after
Fortitude Pass I would let her go, then when I didn't she was furious and
made every effort to get even with me. She wanted to destroy me, but I
think she loved me too. She just couldn't let go of her hate. I was a fool
to think we could ever have a life together." 

 Dr. Green cleared his throat. "You don't seem to have any lingering
effects of the episode, so I'm going to discharge you, but if you should
have any symptoms, I want you back in here immediately." 

 "Understood," Fraser replied. He got out of bed and retrieved the rest of
his uniform. Ray and Frannie drove him home. 

  ********************************   

 Ray walked Fraser to his door. "You sure you're ok Benny?" he asked. 

 "I'll be fine Ray. I appreciate everything you've done for me,
everything," he emphasized. 

 Ray smiled and said, "Hey that's what friends are for, right? See ya
later, Benny." With that he slapped Fraser on the shoulder and left him
alone in his apartment. 

 Fraser went around the apartment picking up the aftermath. When things
were as spotless as he could get them, he settled on the bed to read
through some of Fraser Sr.'s journals. 

 He heard the rustling in the kitchen and looked up to see his father
standing there. "It really happened, didn't it?" he asked. 

 "Sometimes when we really want something so badly," he shrugged, "we
create it. Does that make it any less real?" 

 "She would have hurt me." 

 "Yes." 

 "The things you told me about my friends and Diefenbaker, would they
really have happened?" 

 "I'm dead, Son. How would I know?" Fraser Sr. moved to the door and
opened it. "Get some sleep, Benton, you look terrible." Then he was gone. 

 "Thanks a lot, Dad," Benton said to the door. Dief whined from the floor
by his bed. Benton looked down at him and felt a shadow of the grief he
had felt blow through him. He reached down and scratched the wolf's ears.
"I've missed you," he said and Dief licked his hand in return. 

 Although it was still the middle of the afternoon, Fraser felt exhausted.
He relaxed back onto the bed and closed his eyes.  

 His sleep was long and dreamless. 

   The End