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Category: Drama
Spoilers: lots, mainly VS, the Pilot, BDTH, TMWKTL, MOTB
Rating: G

I'm not quite sure when it was that I stopped laughing. Not just on the outside, inside, too.

I think the snowstorm out there, in Fortitude Pass, froze something in me. In my heart, especially.

It wasn't always like this. I was a little boy once. I used to play and laugh and find trouble at every corner. I guess I can say I was once happy.

The happiness went little by little. With Gram and her cancer. With Gramp and his heart attack. With Victoria and my betrayal. With Dad and his murder. With Ray and his leaving.

By the time I met Ray Kowalski, I'd forgotten how to be happy. I was just functioning. Eat, sleep, duty. That's all I remembered to do.

Ray Vecchio and I had a chance at something remarkable, and we lost it. Lost it because we both forgot that friendship comes before 'love'. By the time our Victoria inflicted wounds had started to heal, they festered over with the appearance of Irene and my misguided sense of duty. By the time those wounds started to scar, Ray was gone.

Ray Kowalski was just what I needed in that dark time. A golden light of friendship. A hand reaching down to pull me up from the abyss.

His own insecurities allowed him to take me for what I am. And also to not take any bullshit from me. I like that word. But if anyone asks me, I'll deny it.

With Ray, I could talk of anything. I had no choice. I could even yell at him. With each honest word exchanged, with each wound revealed, Ray taught me life. He had lost so much himself, and still he persevered, still he bit down on life like it was something to be relished. His way was an example to follow.

A man can have two best friends. I had Ray. And I have Ray. Maybe one day I'll have Ray and Ray. I've never understood the fuss people make because I've accepted Kowalski in my life. The way some people talk at the precinct, you'd think I shouldn't be friends with him just because he isn't Ray Vecchio. What a loss that would be.

It took our fight for me to laugh again. To laugh like I hadn't laughed in a long, long time. I think the last time I laughed so freely was the time I was trying to extradite Ian McDonald to Canada.

On the wooden deck of a tall ship in the middle of Lake Superior, Ray and I discussed whether or not we would take a transfer. Whether we would tuck tail and run like cowards afraid of the miracle of friendship bestowed upon us. Instead we turned to each other in awareness of how ridiculous we were and how petty were our differences.

I laughed.

The sound was so spontaneous, so unexpected, and it filled me with such joy.

I know now that with a laugh and a smile, the adversities life dishes out are not so hard to take.

Laughter is the difference between being and existing.

I am, now.