Fandom: Due South
Summary: A chilly wind, a dark place, brrr.
“Ray!” he shouted at the panting skeleton.
Having just come off the dance floor at the end of the band’s third set, Ray pulled the nylon hood off his head and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. It was hot under there if you were dancing non-stop.
Ray signaled for Fraser to follow and the two of them moved off to one of the many alcoves along the side of the huge hall. It was enough away from the food tables and the bar to be relatively quiet.
Ray studied his ever formal friend. Fraser looked so uncomfortable in the middle of the raucous costume party. Not for the first time, he wished the Mountie had come as something other than a Mountie.
“Benny, why don’t you get on the dance floor? Have some fun?”
“I have to leave Ray. I have sentry duty in the morning, I must get some sleep.”
“Yeah, gotta be awake to be a statue, eh Benny?” Ray had thought it was the uniform that was keeping his friend from cutting lose, but now he had to admit it went a lot deeper.
“Ray, I’m not a . . . It takes a great deal of . . . Never mind. I simply have to go now.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“No. Stay. You’re having fun . . .”
“Yeah. And you’re not.”
Fraser felt guilty at the underlying truth in Ray’s accusation. He’d tried, really tried to find enjoyment at this gathering, but if he were frank, he found the whole thing overwhelming.
“It has been . . . interesting . . . from a cultural standpoint, quite fascinating. Not wholly unlike the Inuit celebration of . . .”
“It’s okay. Spare me the anthropological viewpoint.”
Fraser could hear the disappointment and anger in Ray’s voice. It made him cringe inside to be the cause of it.
“I’m sorry, Ray. I guess I’m not used . . .”
Unheeding, Ray continued, “I really thought you could just be one of us for a change. Just drop the rigid Mountie pose and have some fun for once.”
“Ray, I . . .”
“Sorry to keep you up.”
Ray turned and strode away replacing the hood as he disappeared into the crowd.
Fraser stood where Ray had left him. He tried to absorb what Ray had said, tried to interpret his words in some way that didn’t hurt. But it wouldn’t wash. His one and only friend in Chicago had just pushed him away and told him he didn’t belong, he wasn’t one of them. Somehow he’d blown his chance to belong and he wasn’t even sure what he had done wrong.
Someone brushed against his shoulder and he turned to face a stranger who merely wanted to get past him. Fraser moved out of the way and, once in motion, he kept walking. He headed for the exit.
Pressing against the locking bar, he pushed open the heavy steel door and stepped out into the damp, foggy night. After the heat of the overcrowded hall the chilly night wind hit him with its misty tendrils and he shivered.
Since when did a little October wind make me shiver? It’s proof of how far out of shape I am.
Walking past the cars parked in the lot, he couldn’t help noticing Ray’s beloved Riviera. He shivered again and this time he knew that it wasn’t the night air. Not really. It was the coldness that had settled against his heart.
He didn’t belong. He should have know it from the beginning.
He had let himself believe that a true bond of friendship had developed with the brusque city detective. He should have realized it was probably only his own desperate need for a friend in an openly hostile environment.
He’d been particularly vulnerable, back then. Not only had he just lost his father, but finding out the depth of the betrayal that led to his loss was shattering. Ending up virtually exiled in a strange new world, he had reached out for the offered hand of Detective Vecchio with eagerness.
He cringed yet again, this time in embarrassment, at how quickly and totally he had latched onto Ray Vecchio and the man’s wonderfully embracing family.
How pathetic he must have seemed both to Ray and to the rest of the Vecchios. They had tried to pull him in, pull him out of his reserved shell, but it obviously had been motivated by pity. He could see that clearly now. All it took was looking back with a critical eye. At the moment he could only cut through the pictures of his recent past with laser sharp lacerations,
leaving everything behind him in tatters.
Ray had given him every opportunity to “come out of his shell,” and he had failed him repeatedly. It was a wonder the emotionally volatile man had put up with him for so long.
Ben had known from the beginning that he exasperated Ray, he just hadn’t realized how deeply he had been offending him. Returning Ray’s openness with reserve, his expansiveness with automatic defense mechanisms, his generosity with meagerness of spirit, his (and his family’s) warmth with reticence.
Still, Ray had given him chance after chance. Beyond inviting him into the heart of his family and his home, they had partnered successfully on several cases. He had thought that they had been learning from one another and — major self-deception — enjoying one another. But now he could see how wrong he had been. He was too stiff, too unyielding, too rigid. He had
pushed his friend away. Or, rather, he hadn’t left any opening for Ray to get close.
It was a terrible flaw. He knew that.
There were reasons for that formality. There were gaping holes that needed protecting. No one. Not his own father. Not his best friend could go there. He dared not look too deeply inside himself for fear of self-loathing. No one could be allowed to see how weak and incomplete he was.
He had worked too hard, for too many years to let the surface crack. He could go anywhere. Be as strong as any situation demanded. He would easily give up his life to uphold the law. But don’t look beneath the image of the perfect Mountie.
Ray grumbled and muttered to himself. He refused to go back to enjoying the party, opting instead to stew in righteous indignation. He grabbed a beer and went outside.
Sweating under the the clinging material of his costume, he shivered as the raw chill nipped at him.
He thought of Benny walking home in this.
Probably feels like Miami in July to him.
He pushed back the costume hood and took a slug of the beer, ignoring its iciness and the added shudders it caused to go through him. Sitting on the cold concrete steps Ray ran a mental litany of Fraser’s faults with every sip and swallow of the cold brew. By the time he’d downed the bottle his teeth were chattering. Oddly, though, his anger seemed to fade with each
“flaw” of Fraser’s that he trotted out, until gradually all he could hear were the echoes of his own words. The words he’d hurled at his very best friend in this world like weapons. How could he have been that selfish, that cold?
And finally the chill he’d let in rattled him to the core. What the hell was I thinking, treating Benny like that? Making him feel like shit, just for being Benny?
He got up from the step, realizing his butt was numb from the cold. He headed inside to collect his jacket and the car keys. He looked around at the wild party, if anything louder now than when he’d gone out.
Yeah, I wanted him to have fun, but did I really expect this kind of thing to be his style? What the hell kind of friend am I?
He retrieved his jacket and headed out to the Riv.
Now which way would Benny head home from here?
Still shivering, Fraser kept a quick, steady pace along the now quiet streets. Gone were any signs of the marauding bands of
Trick-or-Treaters who had been out in force earlier. All that was left were a few drying broken eggs on the streets, sidewalks and on some of the cars, and maybe a few more candy wrappers than usual swirling in the wind. Here and there would be a
discarded piece of tulle or feather boa from a costume.
It bothered him that he couldn’t seem to get over this chill. Normally, cold was second nature to him. Invigorating, refreshing, brisk. How could he be experiencing gooseflesh under these tame conditions?
He found himself feeling lonelier than he had when he’d been out by himself on a glacier for weeks at a time. He had let his life here make him so weak, so vulnerable, in such a short amount of time, that it was difficult to credit.
The moon disappeared behind dark, fast moving clouds, removing one small source of comfort in this depressing night. The city had become unbearably bleak and oppressive. By comparison his spartan apartment seemed a haven of comfort and warmth. And Dief would be there waiting for him. His one unquestioning friend.
He turned a corner and the street suddenly became darker ahead. The streetlights had been broken. Probably by vandals in the name of “mischief” making.
He shuddered and turned to his left, contemplating changing his route. That caused him to laugh at himself. “Since when are you frightened of the dark, Benton?”
He headed down the darkened street. Within a few steps he felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. Every instinct told him that he was being watched.
He cocked his head right and left but his senses couldn’t pick up anything definite. He quickened his pace.
There were noises, almost whisperings in the dark, but nothing he could make out clearly. Every nerve ending shouted danger. He stopped and swept around in a full circle, but there was nothing to be seen.
He tried to steady himself. Halloween. The pranksters are probably still out looking for their idea of “fun.” He resumed his fast paced walking. The darkness seemed to be getting darker, the mist thicker and the cold air more frigid by the second.
My imagination. Running wild. Ignorant superstition. Childish fantasies.
Something was in the darkness with him. He could hear it, feel it closing in. It wasn’t teenage mischief makers. It wasn’t drunken partygoers. He stopped once again. Ahead the mist had become a solid wall of roiling black fog. The darkness inside was impenetrable. He turned back the way he had come and could see the same darkness moving in there, too. He was being cut off.
And he knew he wasn’t alone.
He shivered again, his blood seeming to freeze in his veins. Whatever was with him, he was sure of one thing, it wasn’t anything human.
The sounds now buzzed in his ears and impinged on the edges of his mind. Something evil, voracious.
He began to run, fleeing back in the direction he had come. The darkness hadn’t closed in completely there yet. He could still make out some of the buildings and a patch of sidewalk in that direction.
Adrenaline had taken over and he sailed past the doorways and alleys to his left, fully expecting something to reach out and grab him every second.
It couldn’t be much further. His mind knew that, but he could see nothing of the corner he had left behind only a minute or two before. Something touched his back and he bolted even faster, running, in as close to a blind panic as he ever had in his life.
There was a new sound in the mist up ahead. He could neither determine what it was, nor allow it to deter him. It was not only his life, but his immortal soul he felt imperiled by his pursuer.
His foot went out from under him. The curb! some pragmatic part of his brain noted, as he stumbled out into the street.
He was free of the clasping mist, but still careening out of control and there was … a car!
“Benny! What the hell!
Brakes screeched, the Riv swerved left and there was a terrible thump against the passenger door.
“Christ!” Ray wrestled the car to a stop and jumped out, leaving the door wide open behind him.
“Benny! Benny! What the hell did you do that for?”
He couldn’t see the Mountie in the darkness.
“Jesus, Benny. You just came outta nowhere.”
There was a patch of red on the ground. Ray ran over to it. Fraser lay sprawled, half on the sidewalk, half on the street.
“Benny! Christ! Are you all right?”
What a stupid question, Ray. You hit him with your car. As he knelt he couldn’t help thinking, It was more like he hit me. Before he could stop himself he followed up with, That won’t make him any less dead.
“He’s not dead. Dammit, Benny. What the hell were you doing?” Ray squinted in the darkness. Fraser’s tunic seemed to be rising and falling. He extended a shaky hand to the pale throat. The pulse jumped out at him, strong, but erratic.
He took out his cell phone and dialed 911.
Then he ran back to the Riv and pulled it in toward the curb, turning on the hazards. No sense making this a two or three car pile up. He grabbed a blanket from the trunk and ran back to the injured Mountie.
Fraser was groaning and moving. Ray unfolded the blanket as he ran.
“Benny, stay still.” Ray slipped the blanket over Fraser, tucking it under him. “You slammed into the Riv while I was swerving to avoid hitting you. Ambulance is on the way.”
Fraser struggled to sit up. “No, Benny, don’t move. I don’t know how bad you’re hurt.”
Ignoring Ray’s words, gasping against the pain in his chest, Fraser fought to sit up, staring almost wildly back to the corner from which he had emerged. “Is it there? Is it coming?”
Ray looked back at the empty corner. “What? There’s nothing there. What did you see? What made you run like that?”
Fraser sank back with a sigh. “Dark.” He fell back into oblivion.
Ray couldn’t help shivering as he sat guarding his friend, waiting for the paramedics to arrive. He felt he was caught in a dream, make that a nightmare. What a hell of a Halloween.
“Broken ribs, no apparent injuries to the lungs, in fact, no evidence of internal injuries so far. Contusions on both forearms and a fractured metacarpal — a small bone in the palm,” the doctor explained at Ray’s look, “in this case the palm of his right hand. We’ll keep him overnight, possibly till the following morning for observation, but your friend should be fine in a few weeks.”
Sighing in relief, Ray sagged as soon as the doctor left. He insisted on waiting until he could see Fraser. There was something he hadn’t gotten the chance to say to him.
“Benny, you really shouldn’t be running around in the dark like that. It might not be a friendly car you run into next time, you know.”
Fraser gave his friend a quizzical look at that. He thought Ray was taking things rather more lightly than he’d expected.
“Ray, I’m sorry I frightened you. I guess I got a little spooked. I must have let my imagination get the better of me.”
“What makes you say that, Benny?”
“Well, I was imagining all sorts of things in the dark on that street last night.”
“You mean this street?”
Fraser’s head whipped around. Sure enough he saw the place of his nightmare right outside the window of the car.
“Ray, I don’t think we should be here.”
“Why not, Benny? What’s wrong with here? It’s a perfectly fine street. Better than your neighborhood.” Ray stopped the car.
“Ray, I don’t think we should stop here.”
“Of course we should, Benny. You left too soon last night. You shouldn’t have been in such a hurry.” Ray opened the door on his side of the car.
“Don’t, Ray.”
Ray stepped outside and was immediately enveloped by the swirling mists.
“Benny, I never figured you for a coward. Afraid of the dark?” He shook his head. “Tsk. Tsk.”
Ray disappeared into the darkness as the cold fog poured into the vehicle. Suddenly the passenger door opened and Fraser felt trapped as the chill reached for him.
“Ray!”
He awoke with a jolt.
Shaken by the nightmare and disoriented, it took Ben the better part of a minute to realize that he was in a hospital room. He tried to remember how he had gotten here. Images came and went, bits and pieces of memory floated by. How much if anything of what he thought he remembered was real? Where was Ray?
“Hey, Phantom Mountie? You up for a visitor?”
Fraser turned to look as Ray poked his head through the door.
“Yes, Ray.” Ray stepped inside the small room.
“How ya doin’, Benny?”
“I’m okay, Ray. Did I . . . Did I run into something?”
Ray nodded. “The Riv.”
“Oh.” That much was real.
“You came running out of the fog like the devil himself was after–” Ray cut himself off as the color drained from Fraser’s face and the expression on his friend’s face turned from mild confusion to flat out horror.
“You okay, Benny?”
Ray could see the effort Ben was making to regain some sort of control. Finally, after what seemed to Ray a long time, Fraser spoke.
“That was real?” He seemed incredulous, as though whatever he recalled was too appalling to be believed.
“Yeah. It was like you were running away from something or someone.”
Fraser worked on absorbing this. To Ray it looked as though Fraser didn’t want to make room in his mental files for this particular piece of information.
“Before you went down for the count, you kept trying to look back to where you had appeared out of the fog. You asked if “it” was coming.”
Fraser swallowed. “Did I say what?”
Ray gave a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, well, when I asked, you said one word, “Dark,” and then you passed out. “I was not able to make much out of that, but while we waited for the ambulance no one came from that street. Believe me, I kept an eye on it.”
“I must have imagined it.”
“Imagined what?”
Fraser felt a tiny shiver run through him as he heard an echo of his recent nightmare conversation with Ray.
“I’m sure it was nothing.”
“C’mon, share, Mountie. Inquiring minds have got an insatiable craving to know.’”
“Just a terrible sensation of foreboding, danger. The fog closed in, I thought I heard something, even felt a touch on my back. By that time I was running out of there. Ray, I was running scared and I never even saw a thing.”
“You got spooked. Happens to the best of us.”
But not Benny, his mind finished for him.
“Maybe some kids . . .” Ray offered.
“No. Not kids.”
“Older kids, teens. Or adults with . . .”
“No, Ray. Whatever I felt, or imagined I felt and heard, it wasn’t . . .” He balked at the jump, unable to make himself say, ‘it wasn’t human.” He went back to, “. . . kids. It wasn’t kids . . . of any age.”
“Okay. Main thing is you’re safe. Sorta. I mean, battered, but safe.”
“Broken ribs?”
“Yeah. And a fractured ‘metatarpal’?” Ray struggled for the exact
word.
Fraser lifted his splinted hand. “Metacarpal, I’d surmise.”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
There was a lengthy silence.
“Ah, Benny?”
“Yes, Ray?”
“I owe you an apology . . . big time.”
“Oh, no, Ray. I ran into you. I do remember that now.”
“Not for that. For earlier. I was an asshole. I was looking for you . . . in the Riv . . . to tell you.”
Fraser felt his throat tighten. “You don’t have to . . .”
“Yeah, Fraser, I do. I wanted you to have a good time, but I knew that party wasn’t your kind of thing. Anybody who knew you would know that about you. And I’m supposed to be your friend.
“I made a mistake and then I punished you for it. I am so sorry.”
“Ray . . . I don’t mean to be such a stick-in-the-mud.”
“”You’re not. I keep telling you. It’s not you . . .”
“Ray, let’s be honest. I’m not a lot of fun to be around. You are naturally very gregarious and you’ve been tied down with a rigid, reserved, exacting, meticulous, stiff, formal . . .”
Ray listened as Fraser’s list went on. They were some of the very things he’d been thinking about him earlier, some of the things he had called him, he thought with shame.
“Benny,” he interrupted quietly. It was the soft intensity of his voice that got Fraser’s attention. “You are the weirdest person I know, in a lifetime littered with weirdoes. But you are — and I’m only gonna say this once, so listen up here — the best friend I have or ever have had. So I’m asking you as a very big favor, which I don’t deserve, don’t let me have blown this friendship with a few thoughtless, hurtful words.”
Ben’s throat was really tight now. It hurt, as well as his chest, and actually, quite a lot of him. But he knew at least part of the pain was coming from emotions far too volatile to handle. He flailed around silently trying to find some way to say anything while somehow still maintaining control.
It took some time and a lot of swallowing, even though his throat was essentially dry, but he did manage to say something. He only hoped it was enough.
“Okay, Ray.”
For once Ray could sense the emotional struggle that went into producing those two words. While he didn’t fully understand the cause, he felt he’d been given a tiny glimpse into the heart of his friend. He would think about what it all meant later. For now he was just glad that he’d been given a reprieve.
“Thanks, Benny. Thank you kindly.”
The End
