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Author's Notes:

Story Notes:

Ray was back, and everything would go back to what had become normal. Perhaps Ray and Ray could become friends, if they could be convinced to give each other a chance.

He'd met Ray at the airport and while Ray had been quiet on the ride, they'd held hands like school kids. Not wanting to interrupt the sweet moments, Fraser had considered not mentioning the mishap with the Riv, but honor had commanded him to tell Ray.

"I knew, Benny." Ray replied. "The Feds told me."

"You're not upset with me, are you, Ray? It was unavoidable."

"I know, Benny, I know. It's okay."

Ray smiled at him and he smiled back, and everything was good.

They spent several hours at the Vecchio house, where dozens of hugs and kisses and more hugs were exchanged. He watched Ray being passed around from mother to sister to nephews and nieces -- even Tony felt the occasion deserved a brotherly pat on the back or two. Having grown almost accustomed to the boisterousness of the Vecchio clan, Ben didn't mind the occasional hug of joy that he received either.

Getting ready for bed was slightly awkward, but not uncomfortably so. Like riding a bike, old habits were quickly rediscovered.

They'd fallen into an exhausted sleep after making love, and had fallen asleep side by side on their backs. He woke quickly as the noise which had awakened him escalated, and as his eyes adjusted, he realized that Ray was having a nightmare. Simple enough, he thought, and reached over -- and found himself face down on the bed with a gun to his head.

Heart pounding and worried that Diefenbaker might react, he held still, waiting for sanity to return. In minutes it did, and Ray climbed off of him slowly. He sat against the headboard, pulling his knees up.

With a casualness he didn't feel, Ben sat in front of him, close but not touching.

*"Don't do that."*

"I'm sorry, Ray."

"Don't fucking do that, Fraser."

"You were having a nightmare, Ray."

"I know that. I had a gun on you, for Christ's sake."

"You wouldn't have hurt me."

"I could have."

"You wouldn't. You didn't."

"I could have killed you, Benny."

"I'm fine, Ray. I'm fine."

Ray murmured something, but it was too low for him to understand.

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"Ray -"

"Can we just go to sleep right now?"

He nodded. "If you'd like, we can talk about it more in the morning."

"Sure. In the morning."

They didn't, of course. Emotions weren't something he was trained to deal with, and Ray was always quiet about the big things.

He hadn't consciously placed the gun under the pillow that night, but fear and habit had done it for him. It should have been a simple thing to put the gun in the dresser, where it had always gone before, but he had found himself unable to. While he was getting ready for bed, he kept finding himself hovering, wanting to be near it. Finally the best he could do was to leave the safety on and leave an empty chamber.

Ben woke at 4:30 with that irrational need to urinate that always hits two hours before you have to be awake. Opening his eyes suddenly, he caught Ray watching him in the dim light

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

Ray shrugged.

"I'll be right back."

When he returned, Ray was faking sleep. It had fooled him at first, but as he got back in the bed he knew no one could sleep that tense.

He was ready to excuse Ray's problem as readjustment, a common problem among undercover officers. That morning, though, Ray beat him to bringing it up.

"We can't sleep together anymore."

A hundred thoughts and feelings fought for control within him: hurt, anger, despair, loneliness--but one won out. Absence. Whatever Ray meant, it meant he was leaving, pulling away from him just like everybody else. He didn't want Ray to be like everybody else. And wasn't that the understatement of the year?

"I don't understand."

"What's not to understand? You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"But, Ray-"

"I need space, Benny. I will not be responsible for your death. I won't."

"You just need a little time to readjust." He tried to keep the conversation rational, before his own emotions overwhelmed him.

Ray looked at him desperately. "I shot you once already."

He understood Ray's desperation now. Logic was no battle against these particular demons. The pretense of logic would not comfort Ray when he was standing at the gates of hell. He'd held the hand of death those days wondering whether he'd killed or paralyzed his partner.

"Ray? Would you do me one favor?"

"'Course."

"Hear me out before you say anything." He waited for Ray's comprehending nod. "When was the last time you slept?"

Ray avoided his eyes. "It's been awhile. If I could get a couple hours of sleep there wouldn't be a problem. But I can't do that without -" He waved in the general direction of his service revolver.

Ben stood and picked up the gun, bringing it to the bed.

"What are you doing, Fraser?"

"Come here, Ray." He stretched out on his back, and settled Ray on top of him comfortably.

"I like it so far." Ray giggled, doing more to convince Ben of the need for this plan than anything else.

"Dief."

The wolf jumped on to the bed, on Ray's other side. Ray turned to look at Dief as if he might hold the answers to Fraser's wild plan, but he only received a breathful of yawn-de-wolf.

"Go to sleep, Ray. Dief and I will keep you safe."

Seeming to surprise even himself, Ray yawned. "You promise?"

"Nothing's going to happen to you. I'll keep watch."

Wiggling closer, Ray closed his eyes, opened them seconds later, and closed them again. Ben waited until his heartbeat had slowed into the obvious pace of sleep to smile.

Ray wouldn't be interested or convinced by his theories on the danger to their relationship, or the sense of safety it gave them both, but Ben didn't care. His grandmother's psychology books had been correct on that note, safety was a necessary illusion.

End Choking by silvina: sdelcul@yahoo.com

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