Due South and its characters belong to Alliance.

I have to thank my husband, Joe, for not only understanding when I jump out of bed at 3AM to capture an idea on the computer, but for helping me tell this story.

Comments, positive or negative, welcomed BiermannR@home.com

FLASHBACK

by Ruthie Biermann

It was early evening on Sunday. Constable Benton Fraser hung up the phone shaking his head as he sat at his desk. He had been trying to call Ray Kowalski all weekend but hadn't been able to reach him, leaving several messages on his answering machine. He fully expected Ray to have returned his calls by now. He glanced over to Diefenbaker, who was lying on the floor by Fraser's bed, disinterested.

"Maybe he went to visit his parents and forgot to tell me?" Fraser consulted with Dief, who responded by looking up at him and whining quietly. Fraser thought for a moment. "You seem to require some fresh air, why don't we walk over to Ray's apartment and see what we can find?" Dief whined even louder now. "You're an Arctic wolf, for God's sake, a little sub freezing temperature shouldn't bother you." Fraser scolded.

Just then Dief's head snapped up and turned towards the door. Fraser's eyes followed.

"You sense something, Dief?"

Dief whined again. Fraser rose from his chair to investigate, pausing briefly to retrieve a file folder that had slid off his desk. As he stood upright and faced the door, he was startled to see Ray leaning in the doorway of his office, credit card in hand.

"Ray! I didn't hear you come in." Fraser was happy to see him. "I see you used your key."

"Yeah, didn't wanna bother ya'," he replied, appearing pale and distracted. He looked over towards Dief but didn't greet him as he usually would.

"Ray, I've been calling you all weekend. You were never home."

"I was in and out.....had a lotta errands to run." Ray seemed preoccupied and somewhat agitated.

"Well, I did leave several messages on your answering machine. I thought maybe......."

"Uh, it's busted. Everybody sounds like Darth Vader on helium."

"I don't know who Mr. Vader is, but why would he be on helium?" Fraser was confused.

"Never mind, Fraser. I didn't get your messages." Ray was definitely annoyed, at what, Fraser didn't know. He regarded his partner carefully. Ray looked extremely tired, his eyes slightly glazed. He also appeared to be nervous. Perhaps he was coming down with something.

"Ray, are you all right?" Fraser asked, concerned he might be ill.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good, Fraser." He paused. "What difference does it make?"

Fraser didn't understand the question. "Well, it makes a lot of difference, Ray. If you're not feeling well......"

"I said I'm good," Ray snapped.

Fraser nodded slowly as he observed his partner. "Why don't we withdraw to the kitchen and brew some tea. You look like you can use a hot drink."

Ray hesitated. He appeared as if he was thinking about something. "Yeah, okay, Fraser, I'll follow ya'."

"Very well, Ray."

Fraser walked past Ray to the hallway, Ray keeping his eyes trained on him, stepping back to allow Fraser a wide berth. Diefenbaker followed Fraser as Ray brought up the rear. As they headed towards the kitchen, Fraser glanced over his shoulder towards Ray. He seemed extremely nervous and was sweating around his temples. Fraser was relatively certain he was ill, but it was obvious he didn't care to discuss it. He turned back to the kitchen, realizing at that moment that he didn't know why Ray was at the Consulate. He hesitated, surmising from Ray's mood that he probably wouldn't care to respond to another question. He thought how he might phrase the question so as not to irritate him.

At that moment, Fraser heard a distinctive click. He turned around and was stunned by the shocking scenario before him. Ray stood about five feet away, his gun raised and pointed directly at him, a look of animosity in his eyes. Fraser was at a total loss as to how to react. If this was some sort of joke, it certainly was not funny, in fact it bordered on sadistic, which was very unlike his partner. Fraser took a deep, sobering breath.

"Ray, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice tentative, not wanting to incite Ray.

"What does it look like I'm doin', Fraser. I'm pointing my gun at ya'." Ray's voice wavered, his nervousness apparent.

Diefenbaker, confused by the sight, began to growl at Ray, but instead let out a low whimper. He looked back and forth quickly between the two men.

"Fraser, call Dief off," Ray warned.

"Dief," Fraser complied, motioning the wolf towards his office. Dief reluctantly returned to Fraser's office, peering out to monitor the strange scene unfolding between the two partners.

"All right, Ray," Fraser said, simultaneously worried and annoyed. "Why are you pointing your gun at me?"

"Because I'm gonna kill ya'." Ray responded surprisingly calm peering into Fraser's eyes. The contempt on Ray's face unnerved him. He almost didn't look like himself.

Fraser was astounded at Ray's staggering statement. "Why, Ray? Why would you want to kill me?"

"You know why, Fraser! Don't play dumb," Ray shouted.

"No, Ray. I'm sorry, I have no idea. You're just going to have to tell me," Fraser said, shocked at the conversation he was having with his partner.

Fraser watched Ray's face closely. He could see his anger building, but he also saw pain and fear flash across his features. He waited. Finally, Ray responded. "All right, ya' wanna play it that way? Fine, Fraser, we'll play it yer way......as usual. I know ya' tried to kill me, and the only way to keep that from happenin' again is to kill you first."

Fraser was stunned. "Ray, I would never......"

"Shut up, Fraser!" Ray bellowed. "I don't wanna hear any of yer lies! Don't you lie to me. I know ya' tried to kill me. I'm not gonna let that happen again. Yer gonna die, Fraser, not me." Ray's entire body trembled as he spat those loathsome words to his partner.

"Ray, please, you're my best friend. I would never hurt you. Please tell me why you believe......."

"I told ya' to shut up, Fraser." Ray cautioned, his voice low and hateful. Fraser shuddered at the sound of it. "Yer time is up as of now."

While they had been talking, Ray's arm had unconsciously lowered several inches. He raised it again and pointed the gun to Fraser's head. Fraser kept still. He feared anything he might say could possibly cause Ray to pull the trigger. He obviously wasn't in his right mind. Perhaps he had ingested some sort of psychoactive drug, most likely unwittingly. He was at a loss as to why Ray might believe he had tried to kill him, and in his current state of mind, Fraser knew he couldn't provoke him. Having thought that, he still believed in his heart that his best friend and partner could never pull the trigger. He stood his ground, his eyes searing into Ray's.

Ray returned Fraser's stare, a look of defiance in his eyes. He aimed the gun directly at his head. Fraser stood quietly watching his partner. Ray was frozen in place, his hand clutching the weapon, his finger lightly pressing on the trigger.

It seemed like an eternity had passed for both men. Fraser saw Ray's hand begin to waver, then his arm. He remained silent. He was sweating profusely now, his breathing labored. His entire body trembling, his defiant expression replaced with one of panic.

Fraser decided to talk to him, attempting to convince him to relinquish the gun.

"Ray........."

"Shut up, Fraser." Ray's voice faltered. His eyes filling with liquid, he suddenly appeared to be in physical pain. He placed his left hand on his forehead almost doubling over as he did so. Fraser took the opportunity to approach him.

"Don't." Ray warned, quickly regaining his stance, albeit unsteady.

The two men continued to gaze into each other's eyes, Fraser's, disbelieving but concerned, Ray's, now panicked and despondent. Several more moments of silence passed, Ray finally speaking.

"Fraser, I.......it's not what I want...... it's because you....he......." he stopped. Ray backed away from Fraser, tears now running down his face, his eyes still staring into Fraser's. He continued to back away towards the front door. When he reached it, he quickly turned and exited the Consulate.

Fraser stood stunned for several moments finally reclaiming his full faculties.

"Ray!" he bellowed as he sprinted to the front door, arriving in time to see Ray speed off into the darkness in the GTO.

Fraser tried to digest what had just occurred, but it was just too impossible to believe. His partner and best friend had just pointed his gun at him and threatened to kill him. It was unfathomable. In addition, Ray claimed that Fraser had tried to kill him. Where could he get such an outlandish notion? He didn't know what to do, but he knew he had to do something.

He returned to his office and called Lieutenant Welsh at his home. Welsh answered the phone in his usual gruff manner. "Yeah, what? This better be good. The Hawks are workin' on a hat trick."

"Leftenant, I'm terribly sorry to bother you at home, but an important matter has surfaced, and it's imperative that I talk to you immediately." Fraser tried not to sound as panicked as he felt, but he also wanted to impress upon the Lieutenant how important it was.

"Constable, what's this about?" Welsh asked concerned with the tone of Fraser's voice.

"Actually, Leftenant, I wouldn't feel comfortable discussing this over the phone..... would you mind coming to the Consulate?" Fraser wanted to find Ray, but was flustered by the events that had just occurred. He needed the assistance of Ray's superior officer and friend. He knew Welsh cared about Ray and would do his best to help the detective.

"I need more than that, Constable. Just give me some kinda clue.......something."

Fraser hesitated. "Ray thinks he wants to kill me."

"I'll be right over." Welsh was out the door with no mind to the Hawks.

He arrived at the Consulate about fifteen minutes later. Fraser met him at the door and quickly ushered him into the parlor.

"Constable, what's this about Ray wanting to kill you?"

"Well, actually, Leftenant, I said he thinks he wants to kill me."

"Why on this God's earth would he want to kill you?" Welsh was incredulous.

"I'm sure he doesn't want to, but he feels he has to." Fraser clarified.

At this point, Welsh became annoyed. "Constable, just tell me what happened."

Fraser told Welsh about the scenario with Ray, how he had pointed his gun at Fraser, how he somehow believed it was in retaliation for Fraser trying to kill him, his anger and subsequent panic, the physical pain he appeared to be in, and how Fraser hadn't been able to reach him all weekend. He ended with Ray running out of the Consulate, taking off in the GTO.

Welsh was dumbfounded. He stared with eyes wide and mouth open for several long moments.

"Do you have any idea where he went?" Welsh asked concerned about his detective.

"No, sir, but I can check his apartment. Or he may have gone to the precinct."

It didn't take long for Welsh to take over and start giving orders. "All right, Constable, first of all, we're gonna keep this matter to ourselves, between you and me. Any individuals we may tell will be on a need-to-know basis. No one else has to know."

"Yes sir, I fully concur," Fraser knew he had made the right decision by calling Welsh.

He continued. "We have to find Ray, and we have to find him fast." He thought for a moment, a look of consternation coming over his face. "Do you think he's a danger to himself......or to anyone else?"

"Well, sir, he seemed to be specifically targeting me for supposedly attempting to kill him. But he did appear to be unstable, and I'm afraid he may prove to be a danger to himself," Fraser speculated increasing his concern for his partner.

"I was afraid of that." Welsh thought for a moment. "You start out at his apartment. I'll check the 2-7." He handed Fraser his cell phone. "Here, you take this so I can get in touch with you. If you need me, you can go through the main number until I get to the precinct. Then I'll grab another phone.....here's the number." Welsh scribbled out a phone number on a scrap of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Fraser. He continued. "I don't know where we're goin' on this, but tomorrow morning I'll call Inspector Thatcher and inform her you're unavailable until further notice as you're working on an important case for me."

"Thank you, sir."

"Do you have a car?" Welsh asked.

"Yes, sir. I can avail myself of a Consular vehicle."

"All right, Constable, if either one of us finds Ray, the first thing we have to do is disarm him. If he's at his apartment, you keep him there. If he's elsewhere, the plan will be to return him to his apartment. If he's on some kind of drug, maybe he'll be okay after it wears off."

"Yes sir." Fraser paused. "Sir?"

"Yes, Constable".

"If he has ingested a drug, I would venture to say it was unintentional, perhaps combining two seemingly harmless substances."

"So, in other words, Constable, you're saying Ray would never take a mind altering drug of his own volition."

"Yes, sir."

"I agree. Now let's get going."

Both men rushed to their respective destinations. Fraser and Diefenbaker checked out Ray's apartment. Nothing appeared out of order. He retrieved one of Ray's tee shirts from the bedroom floor and held it in front of Diefenbaker's nose.

"Dief, find Ray." Leaving the car in front of Ray's building, Fraser followed Diefenbaker as he tracked Ray.

**********

Ray walked aimlessly around the park by his apartment. His head was pounding and he felt sick to his stomach. He went over in his head the events that had occurred at the Consulate. I couldn't go through with it. Now he's gonna kill me.

As he walked he began to hear a commanding voice in his head, 'You know what you have to do. It's either you or him.' Where was that voice coming from?

He heard his own voice in response, 'No, he would never hurt me. Yer lyin'!'

Then he saw Fraser standing in front of him holding a gun, pointing it at him and shooting........

Ray clutched his head between his hands, trying to force the chaos from his mind. He heard the commanding voice again, 'He'll kill you. You know you have to kill him first.'

He heard himself again, 'If I don't kill him, he's gonna kill me. I gotta kill Fraser.'

An address flashed into his mind but he couldn't make it out. He saw Fraser holding the gun again, shooting at him. Ray dropped to his knees screaming, his eyes tightly closed, attempting to shut out the pictures and voices invading his head. He fell to the ground welcoming the darkness as it delivered him from the agony in his own mind.

**********

Fraser followed Diefenbaker towards the park. The wolf paused at the entrance, his nose in the air. "Good boy," Fraser said reassuringly as he patted Dief's head. He knew Ray often came to this park when he was upset about something. Chances were good that he was here now. They entered through the large open gate and walked towards the lake in the center of the park. Ray often skimmed stones on the surface of the lake taking his mind off his problems, if only for a few brief moments. As they approached the water, Fraser noticed the GTO parked a few yards away. He quickly put his guard up as Ray might have already spotted him, and could still be seeking revenge for Fraser's supposed attempt on his life. As they walked, Dief noticed something in the grass and sprinted ahead. Fraser aimed the bright beam of his pocket flashlight towards the object Dief had found. He immediately saw that it was a man lying prone on the grass. He ran the remaining distance and found it was Ray.

He frantically checked Ray's neck for a pulse. It was strong much to his relief. He removed Ray's gun from his shoulder holster and divested him of his boot gun. He placed them into the pockets of his leather jacket. Going through Ray's pockets, he found the car keys. He attempted to revive Ray by lightly slapping his face several times and calling his name. No response. He carefully picked Ray up and positioned him over his shoulder, carrying him to the GTO, Diefenbaker running ahead. He stooped down to unlock the passenger side door, pulling the front seat forward for Dief to gain access. Then he carefully laid Ray on the front seat, half sitting, half lying down. He shut the door and went around to the driver's side. After settling himself into the driver's seat, he leaned over and lifted Ray's upper body allowing his head to rest on his shoulder as he drove. It was a short drive to Ray's apartment, but Fraser checked several times that he was okay during the ride.

When they had reached the apartment, he silently gave thanks that he hadn't run into anyone as he carried Ray over his shoulder into the apartment. He gently lay Ray down on the couch and removed his jacket. He took both of Ray's guns from his pockets and placed them on the coffee table, removing the clips. Retrieving the scrap of paper Welsh had given him, he dialed the number scribbled across it. The Lieutenant answered on the first ring.

"Leftenant, I found Ray unconscious in the park. His pulse is strong, I'm quite sure he's all right," Fraser said as he kept his eyes on Ray shrugging off his jacket as he spoke.

"That's good, Constable. I'll be right over."

"Sir, I would appreciate it you would allow me to handle this alone. I feel it's a matter between Ray and me, at least for now. I promise to keep you apprised of the situation." Fraser hoped Welsh would understand.

There was silence on the phone for a few moments. "Very well, Constable. I'll cover for his absence at the precinct. But you be sure to contact........."

"Yes sir," Fraser cut him off. "Thank you, sir. Goodnight."

"Okay, 'night Constable."

Fraser regarded Ray's form on the couch. He knew he had to revive him, and he dreaded another confrontation. He hoped the Lieutenant had been right, that whatever substance Ray may have inadvertently ingested would have worn off by now, and he would come to his senses.

He took a wash cloth from the linen closet and soaked it with water. Returning to the living room, he sat down on the edge of the couch gently swabbing Ray's face with the damp cloth. After a few minutes, Ray began to stir. He opened his eyes and looked directly into Fraser's eyes. He could see Ray attempting to focus, his eyes growing wide as he did. Ray tried to sit up quickly, but the pain in his head didn't allow it. He rubbed his temples and slowly lay back on the couch, looking away from Fraser. But Fraser had already observed the distrust in his eyes.

Ray noticed his guns lying on the coffee table. "So, I guess yer gonna kill me now," he said attempting to hide his fear.

The look of contempt on his face cut through Fraser. "Ray, I would never hurt you, you're my partner and friend. Why do you think I would want to kill you?"

Ray ignored the question, his eyes averted. "Okay, Fraser, if ya' don't wanna kill me, then you'll let me leave." He knew Fraser wouldn't allow that, but for the wrong reasons.

"I can't let you do that, Ray."

"Then you get out......now." Ray spat out, attempting to sound forceful.

"Ray, I can't leave you here in the state you're in....you need help. I'm afraid I may have to take you to the hospital."

"I don't need a hospital, Fraser. What I need is you outta here."

Ray again attempted to get up. This time, Fraser placed his hand on his chest and held him down.

"Just lemme sit up."

He removed his hand, and Ray struggled to sit up, Fraser reaching out to help.

"I can do it myself," he shoved Fraser's hand away sitting up abruptly. Apparently, it was too sudden. He started to feel dizzy, the pain in his head returning with a vengeance. His upper body swayed, causing him to almost roll off the couch. Fraser reached forward to catch him.

"Stay away from me! Don't come near me!" Ray admonished, the fear evident in his voice.

"Ray, I'm only trying to help you." As he didn't have the strength to fight, Ray relented. He allowed Fraser to gently pull him upright, adjusting the sofa pillow behind his back.

"Ray, I want you to tell me what happened to you this weekend. Why would you think I'd want to kill you?"

"I don't have to tell ya' anything." Ray continued to look away from Fraser.

"Look at me, Ray."

Ray refused to comply. Fraser repeated himself more sternly this time, "I said, look at me." At the tone of his voice, Ray slowly turned his head towards Fraser and looked into his eyes. He forced himself to maintain an air of defiance.

"Ray, either you cooperate with me, or I'll take you to the hospital and let them deal with you." Fraser was bluffing, but hoped Ray wouldn't realize it in his current state of mind.

Fraser waited patiently for him to respond. He actually wanted to comfort him in spite of his confrontational attitude, but he knew Ray didn't want him to touch him. Ray finally spoke. "What do ya' wanna know, Fraser?" He asked exasperated.

"Tell me everything you remember starting with Friday while you were still at the precinct."

He shrugged his shoulders and thought a moment. "I remember leavin' work..... then......" Ray struggled to remember. He looked at Fraser, shock and fear in his eyes, "Then......ya' tried to kill me!"

"Ray, that never happened. Someone or something has apparently caused you to believe that. Don't you know that I'd never hurt you?"

"I remember ya' tried to kill me. I remember!" Ray raised his voice.

"Ray, I'm telling you it never happened. We obviously need to ascertain what transpired, and I need your help to accomplish that." He paused. "I need to check you over."

Ray's eyes widened, his fear apparent. "Yer not coming near me. Yer not putting yer hands on me."

"Ray....."

"No, Fraser! You stay away from me, I'm warnin' ya', I'll kill ya', I swear I'll........" he stopped. He started to recall something. He cocked his head, his eyes squinting as he tried to remember.

"What is it, Ray? Do you remember something?"

Ray reached behind the back of his head and rubbed. He felt a bump. "Did you whack me on the head, Fraser?"

"No, Ray." Now they were getting somewhere. "Do you remember that occurring?"

"Well, I got a pretty big lump back there, it hurts.....somebody did."

"Ray, listen to me. Like it or not, we have to solve this mystery together. I swear to you I haven't tried to hurt you. Obviously, something occurred to you this weekend which is causing you to believe otherwise. You're just going to have to trust me. Now, I need to check you over."

Ray eyed Fraser suspiciously. He glanced over to the coffee table. "Not while ya' got both my guns, yer not."

"Fair enough. I'll put the guns on the top shelf of the hall closet. That way, no one has them."

Ray thought for a moment. "Okay, go ahead."

Fraser rose from the couch picking up Ray's guns with their clips. He went over to the hall closet, placed everything on the top shelf and closed the door. He returned to the couch and held out his hand. "Stand up, Ray."

"I don't need yer help, Fraser." He stood with some difficulty.

"First, I need to check that bump on your head." He motioned for Ray to turn around. Instead, Ray walked around Fraser, his back to Fraser's back, so he would be facing the hall closet where the guns lay on the top shelf. Taking a deep breath, Fraser turned around to face Ray's back.

"All right, Ray. I'm going to check this bump your head." Ray was silent, his hands at his sides. Fraser put his hand on Ray's head and pressed lightly.

"Ow, Fraser, I thought you said you weren't tryin' ta kill me." Ray was beginning to sound like himself again.

"Sorry, Ray. You do have a large bump back here. Someone did hit you pretty hard, probably knocked you out."

"Yeah, you did."

"No, Ray. And I believe you're starting to realize that."

"I don't realize anything, Fraser. I still remember ya' tryin' to kill me."

"All right, Ray." Fraser responded exasperated. He walked around Ray so that they were facing each other. "How did I try to kill you?"

Ray began to speak. He paused. "Can't remember."

"But you do recall that I did try to kill you."

"Yeah. That I remember."

"Ray, that makes no sense."

"I don't care if it makes sense or not, Fraser. That's what I remember," he said impatiently. Ray frowned. "I remember seein' an address."

"Do you remember what the address was?" Fraser was hopeful they could get some useful information.

Ray thought for a moment. "Nah, but..........." He paused.

"What, Ray?"

"You were pointing a gun at me and you pulled the trigger," Ray's voice wavered.

"Then what happened?"

"Can't remember. Just hearin' someone tell me that ya' tried to kill me and that I had to kill ya' before ya' did it again."

"All right, Ray, that's very good. We'll return to that later. First, I need to examine you for any more bumps or bruises. Would you please remove your shirt?"

Ray gave Fraser a sideways glance. Fraser didn't react. After a moment, Ray pulled his shirt over his head. He tossed it onto the couch and stood, his eyes trained on Fraser's, whose attention was now on Ray's body. He began to examine him closely. He didn't see anything on his chest or stomach. He put his hands out to turn Ray around, but Ray quickly stepped back, almost losing his balance.

Fraser remained silent. Ray turned around. Fraser checked his back. No marks. Rather than ask Ray to turn, he went around to his side and looked at his right arm....nothing. Then he walked to Ray's left side, deliberately taking the route in front of him, so Ray could see him, and looked at his left arm. There, he saw it. Red irritation and a slight bruise. He looked closer. It looked to him like a reaction someone might get to an allergy or booster shot. The area wasn't only red and irritated, but slightly raised.

"Ray, does your left arm hurt at all?"

"Well, I guess it feels like somebody punched me. Yeah, it feels kinda sore."

"I believe someone gave you an injection in this arm. Do you recall anything like that?"

"No, Fraser, don't you think I woulda told ya'?" Ray asked exasperated.

"Well, no Ray, not in the state of mind you've been in." He paused. "I think we need to go to the precinct. But, first I need to call Mort."

"What for?"

"I'm going to ask him to meet us at the precinct to draw some blood to test you for drugs, more specifically, some sort of psychoactive drug." Fraser picked up the telephone.

"Oh, no, Fraser, Mort's not gonna stick a needle in me."

"Why not, Ray? You've had blood drawn before, you know what to expect." Fraser was dialing Mort's phone number.

"Yeah, but those were nurses who treat livin', breathin' people, not the ones who can't say 'ouch'".

"You mean, people who can no longer complain, Ray?"

"Yeah, Fraser, ya' know what I mean." Ray was genuinely nervous.

Fraser didn't respond as he was speaking to Mort. Without revealing too much information, he asked Mort to meet him and Ray at the precinct, stating that it was important. He hung up the phone.

"Come on, Ray. He's going to meet us there." Fraser motioned Ray towards the door.

"All right, Fraser. But he better not hurt me."

As Ray picked up his jacket, Fraser noted to himself that he was acting more normal, or at least, more like himself. He didn't seem to be as wary of Fraser and the look of animosity was no longer in his eyes. Apparently, the effects of the drug, if Ray had been injected, were wearing off.

Fraser held the door for Diefenbaker and Ray, who stopped in front of him before exiting. "Fraser, I...uh.....I'm.... really sorry about all that before. I don't know what's goin' on with me, but I don't think ya' tried to kill me anymore. I mean, I still feel like it happened, but now I know it was probably some drug or somethin'. I just wish I could remember........" He paused.

"I understand, Ray. We'll get to bottom of this mystery."

Ray smiled tentatively at Fraser and continued through the door.

As he drove, Fraser told Ray that he had called Lieutenant Welsh from the Consulate, as he dialed the phone to update him on Ray's condition. Ray was grateful that Welsh was involved.

When they reached the precinct the two men and one wolf walked down to the morgue, Ray more apprehensive than usual. Mort was waiting for them.

"Hello, boys." He looked at Ray. "Ray, you don't look well," he said with concern.

"Uh, thanks, Mort, good to see ya' too."

Fraser explained to Mort that they believed Ray had been injected with a drug, most likely an hallucinogen, and he asked Mort to draw blood to check for remnants of the substance. As Mort approached Ray with the blood kit, he saw the worry in Ray's eyes.

"Don't worry, Ray. I won't hurt you. It'll be over before you know it," he tried to sound reassuring. But Ray was oblivious to his assurances and closed his eyes tightly though the brief procedure.

"You know, boys, these psychedelic drugs are dangerous.....they can cause a host of side effects." Mort cautioned.

"Oh, great." Ray whined.

"Exactly what are these side effects?" Fraser asked concerned for his partner.

"Well, these are drugs that affect mental function by distorting the perception of reality. They can produce unpredictable, erratic and violent behavior including paranoia, panic, severe headache and recurrent delusional flashbacks. If Ray was injected with such a drug, he should be under observation in a hospital."

"Nope, uh uh, no hospitals. I ain't going. Yer lucky I let you take my blood."

"Not to worry, Ray." Fraser said, "I intend to keep a close eye on you, and I'll only take you to the hospital if you have a severe reaction."

"Like what?" Ray asked eyeing Fraser.

"Well, for instance, if you attempt to fly by jumping out a window."

"Oh, that's comforting, Fraser."

Actually, if Ray's blood test did come back positive, Fraser had every intention of taking him to the hospital.

"Just take it easy, Ray. And listen to Fraser." Mort said.

"I think I'd be better off jumpin' out the window." Fraser gave Ray a disapproving glance.

"Why don't you boys wait in the squad room. I'll need about an hour to get the results." Mort said as he walked towards the lab.

"Right you are," Fraser replied. "Come on, Ray, Dief." The three went to the squad room as instructed.

************

Ray sat behind his desk drinking a cup of coffee, decaffeinated at Fraser's insistence, Fraser sitting in his usual chair, Dief lying at his feet.

"How's your head, Ray?" Fraser asked.

"It feels like I just listened to two hours of Inuit stories."

"That's very funny, Ray." Fraser stared at his partner.

"It hurts, okay Fraser? I just need to take an aspirin."

"I'm afraid you can't do that. I'm fairly certain you were injected with a mind altering drug and the interaction could prove to be extremely deleterious."

Ray gave Fraser a questioning glance. "Delet....... What's that?"

"Deleterious, Ray. Hurtful, injurious, bad."

"So why didn't ya' just say bad?" Ray asked exasperated. Fraser didn't respond. Ray thought for a moment.

"Ya' know, Frase, the drug interaction could actually be good."

"In what way, Ray?"

"Well, it could turn me into a genius or somethin.'"

"I highly doubt that, Ray."

"Thanks, Frase."

"Of course, Ray."

The phone rang. Ray grabbed the receiver, "Vecchio..........yeah, okay." He hung up the phone. "Dracula wants us in his laboratory," he rose as he spoke.

Fraser remained seated, a puzzled look on his face. "Ya, know, Fraser......Dracula.....he's a vampire.....he sucks blood......" Ray attempted to explain.

"If you're referring to Mort, he didn't exactly suck your blood, he utilized suction to draw......."

"Never mind, Fraser."

The three proceeded to the morgue.

************

Fraser and Ray faced Mort, Diefenbaker sitting patiently by the double doors.

"Well, Ray, I did find evidence of an hallucinogenic drug similar to LSD or PCP in your blood, but I am not familiar with it. It had trace ingredients I could not identify." Mort said.

"So what exactly does this mean, Mort?" Fraser asked.

"Well, this may be a new synthetic drug, developed for other purposes but having hallucinogenic effects as well. For example, PCP was originally developed as an anaesthetic, but it's use was abandoned because of its mind altering side effects. I assume this drug was used on Ray to create a false reality."

"What does that mean?" Ray asked confused.

"What Mort is saying, Ray, is that once you are given this drug, someone can lead you to believe a situation exists that doesn't actually exist in reality." Fraser explained.

"Ya' mean, someone could make me believe ya' tried to kill me when ya' really didn't." Ray confirmed.

"Exactly." Mort nodded.

"And those side effects you mentioned before, the headaches, paranoia, panic and delusional flashbacks, they can still occur?" Fraser asked.

"Yes, unfortunately, they may linger for weeks."

Fraser noticed Ray becoming upset at this sobering news. He turned back to Mort, "So if someone had Ray believe that I tried to kill him, he could experience that false reality at any time during a flashback?"

"Correct."

"Thank you, Mort." Fraser looked at Ray, who was sitting slumped on a stool by Mort's desk. "Ray, we should return to your apartment and attempt to determine who might formulate such an elaborate plan of revenge. I would venture to say the suspect is most likely mentally unstable. Once we come up with a list of possible individuals, we can run a status check on the computer at the precinct."

Ray still sat slouched in Mort's chair, his eyes on the floor. "Ray, are you all right?" Fraser was concerned.

He didn't bother to look up. "Yeah, Fraser, I'm good." He slowly rose from the chair. "Thanks, Mort, I owe ya'," he said as he exited the morgue, Diefenbaker following.

"Good night, Ray. Take care of yourself," Mort called after him. He looked at Fraser. "Make sure you keep an eye on him. That drug he was injected with is dangerous, especially since we don't know the full extent of its potency. He should really be in a hospital."

"I fully intend to take him, but I know there's no way I'll be able to convince him to go tonight. In any event I intend to take him first thing in the morning after he gets some sleep." They shook hands. "Good night, Mort, thank you kindly for your help."

"You're very welcome, Fraser, good night." Fraser exited the morgue to find Ray and Dief.

************

Ray had been too tired to discuss possible suspects in the drive back to his apartment. As Fraser drove, Ray had closed his eyes and tried to relax, his head again aching. As soon as they reached the apartment, he changed into sweat pants and a tee shirt. Fraser prepared a light dinner of soup and sandwiches. Ray didn't have much of an appetite, eating the soup but taking only a few bites of the sandwich, Diefenbaker reaping the benefits. He wished he could take an aspirin for his head, but he knew he couldn't because of the possible dangerous interaction. After they ate, Ray slumped down on the couch, his hands rubbing his temples, attempting to ease the pain.

Fraser watched him as he squirmed uncomfortably on the couch.

"Perhaps you should try to get some sleep, Ray. You look very tired."

Ray thought for a moment, "Yeah, I am, Frase." He slowly rose from the couch. "Thanks for all yer help today." He paused. "Fraser, I'm really sorry about all that stuff at the Consulate. I......"

"Ray, it's not your fault." Fraser interrupted. "Hopefully tomorrow you'll be feeling better, and we can try to determine who's done this to you. But, first you need to get some rest."

"Thanks, Frase." Ray headed to the bedroom. "There's blankets and pillows in the linen closet. Help yerself," he said as he disappeared into the bedroom.

"All right, Ray. Have a good night."

************

Norman Marshall sat at the desk in the old warehouse at 23 Market Street. He had watched as Constable Benton Fraser and Detective Ray Vecchio emerged from Ray's apartment earlier and had followed them to the precinct. He thought that damn Mountie would be dead by now. But he wasn't upset as his plan was still unfolding.

Ever since Ray and Fraser had arrested Norman for conspiracy and murder almost two years ago, he had been obsessed with revenge. During the arrest, his 24 year old son, Michael, had been killed by Vecchio's gun. Norman had claimed that Ray shot his son in cold blood, but witnesses testified that the younger Marshall had pulled his weapon on Ray, who's only option was to protect himself. He was cleared of any wrongdoing during that apprehension.

When Norman went to trial, he had been found "not guilty by reason of insanity" and was sent to a mental institution, where he underwent tests and was entered into an intense therapy program. Norman was an extremely intelligent man. In less than two years, he was able to deceive his doctors into believing he was cured. He had been released under outpatient supervision, and according to his doctors at the institution, he was a text book argument for the powers of aggressive therapy to cure mental illness. But his doctors were unaware that during his stay at the institution, Norman had concocted an elaborate scheme of revenge against Ray Vecchio and his partner, Benton Fraser. Having Ray kill Fraser in cold blood would be the ultimate revenge, as he knew Ray would spend the rest of his life incarcerated living with the unbearable knowledge that he murdered his partner.

It hadn't been difficult obtaining the drug to effectuate his plan. The institution was commissioned by the government to develop new synthetic drugs for the treatment of various mental abnormalities. Norman learned that with this new drug, a false reality could be implanted into a person's head through mere suggestion, thus being able to control that individual's behavior. The one drawback was that the effects of the drug were unpredictable. However, Norman compensated for that. He knew there was always the chance that Ray might not kill Fraser immediately, in fact, knowing how close the two men were, he more or less expected that. But he also knew that after Ray had experienced a few flashbacks, the false reality that had been implanted, namely, that Fraser was trying to kill him, would loom so intense in his mind, he would eventually kill Fraser. And what made his plan even sweeter was the fact that Norman had also deposited an address into Ray's mind, 23 Market Street. In Ray's altered reality, he believed Fraser tried to shoot him at that address. Norman was confident Ray would eventually recall that location and he and Fraser would be compelled to investigate. And when they arrived at the warehouse at 23 Market Street, the surroundings would drive Ray to have another flashback, where chances were optimum that he would kill Fraser. And Norman would be there to see it.

So, the fact that Ray hadn't killed Fraser yet didn't mean his plan had failed. No, it meant that Norman would be able to witness the supreme retribution against the two men who killed his son. He was a happy man.

************

Fraser lay on Ray's couch, his feet hanging awkwardly over the edge, Diefenbaker lying on the floor by the coffee table. He had quietly checked on Ray about twenty minutes earlier and found that he appeared to be sleeping soundly, based on the steady cadence of his breathing. He was extremely worried about his partner, specifically about the effects of this unknown synthetic drug that had been injected into his system. He had decided that he would have to force Ray to go to the hospital the following morning. It was just too risky not to. Fraser had been giving Welsh regular updates concerning Ray. He had agreed that Ray needed to see a doctor, and told Fraser that he would go over their past cases and check the police computer records in the morning. Now, Fraser just had to persuade Ray, and if he couldn't, he would drag him kicking and screaming to the hospital if he had to.

He knew Ray was upset over his actions at the Consulate regardless of the fact that it wasn't his fault. Fraser was determined to impress upon him that he held no animosity or blame against Ray. He would have to somehow convince him of that.

Fraser's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a loud crash from Ray's bedroom. He was off the couch in a second and sprinted to the bedroom, Diefenbaker two steps ahead. As he entered, he immediately saw that Ray's bedside lamp had fallen to the floor and lay in pieces. Ray wasn't in his bed.

"Ray?" Fraser almost whispered.

He heard a slight whimper from the corner of the room on the left side of the bed. He walked further into the room and found Ray crouched between the dresser and the wall, holding his head between his hands, his entire body trembling. Fraser immediately knelt down in front of his partner, quietly saying his name, attempting to calm him.

"Ray, it's okay, it's Fraser......." Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Ray's reaction to Fraser was violent. Attempting to kick him, he fell to the floor, landing on his side, screaming.

"Get away from me! Yer trying ta kill me! Leave me alone.....I swear I'll kill ya'!" His hands clutching his head, Ray was now in a semi fetal position, kicking his legs attempting to keep Fraser away.

"Ray, it's all right. Just please calm down. I won't come near you," Fraser spoke softly as he backed away from his partner. "Look at my hands, Ray." He held them up. " I'm not carrying anything. I'm not going to hurt you. You need to calm down."

Ray stopped kicking and grew silent. He pulled his knees into a full fetal position, his eyes tightly closed, his breathing labored.

"That's good, Ray. I'll just remain here and when you feel a little better, you can open your eyes and sit up."

Fraser sat on the floor a few feet away from Ray. Diefenbaker, who had also been keeping his distance from the thrashing form on the floor, now slowly made his way towards Ray. When he reached him, he tentatively began licking his face. Ray flinched at the feel of Dief's tongue. But then he noticeably relaxed, and moved one of his hands from his head to Dief and began petting him.

Thank God for Dief, Fraser thought as he watched the scene before him. Diefenbaker stopped licking Ray's face and lay down next to him, inching his way closer until he was snuggled up against his chest. Ray was more relaxed now, his breathing returning to normal, the trembling subsiding. Fraser remained silent. After a few minutes, Ray spoke.

"Frase?" his voice wavered, eyes still closed.

"I'm here, Ray. Is it all right if I help you up?"

No response. He waited a few more moments.

"Ray?"

Ray stirred at the sound of Fraser's voice. "Um, I......" He slowly opened his eyes. As he focused, he looked over towards Fraser.

"Fraser, what happened?" he asked, confusion in his eyes.

"Apparently you had a flashback, Ray." Fraser rose and approached his partner.

"How long?" Ray was slowly sitting up, his hand on Diefenbaker for support.

"Well, I'm not quite sure when it started. But while I was present, it lasted about ten minutes." Fraser leaned down to assist Ray to his feet. He didn't resist. Fraser helped him to his bed, Ray sitting on the edge, Fraser next to him.

"Can I get you anything, Ray?" he was extremely concerned.

"Uh, no, thanks, Frase." He paused. "I just need ta, uh, ta get my bearings." Ray rubbed his eyes.

"Do you remember anything?" Fraser asked.

"Uh, I'm not sure, I.........." Ray frowned and tilted his head to one side. "Well, you were there pointin' a gun at me." He looked at Fraser.

"But you know that isn't real, right Ray?" Fraser feared Ray was still experiencing the flashback.

"Yeah, Frase, I know. But that's what I remember. Um, I can......I don't know why, but I saw that address again." Ray squinted as he tried to remember.

"Perhaps it's the location where the suspect injected you. Do you remember what it is?" Fraser was hoping this information would lead them to their man.

"I'm tryin'........" Ray rested his forehead on his hands as he attempted to picture the address in his mind. "Oh, man, yeah, Frase, I can see it. It's Market Street....... 23 Market Street....it's uh, it's an old warehouse I think." Ray looked at Fraser, his eyes questioning. "Do ya' think that's where he took me?"

"I'll check it out first thing in the morning, Ray." Fraser put his hand on Ray's shoulder.

"Fraser, ya' mean we'll both........."

"No, Ray," Fraser interrupted. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

"Uh uh, no, Fraser. I told ya' no hospitals. I'm not goin'. This stuff's gonna wear off, and I'll be okay. All they're gonna do is stick me with more needles. No, Fraser, no way."

Fraser looked at Ray and shook his head. He knew it would be a losing battle getting Ray to the hospital, short of his original plan to drag him kicking and screaming. "How about we compromise, Ray. We'll both check out the warehouse in the morning, and then I'll take you to the hospital." Fraser waited.

"Okay, Fraser. It's a deal."

"Maybe you should go back to bed and get some rest," Fraser suggested.

"No, Fraser. I'm not goin' back to sleep."

"All right, Ray. I'll make you some tea, and we can relax on the couch and talk."

"Okay," Ray agreed, "but one Inuit story, and I'm out the window."

"Understood."

*************

Fraser, Ray and Diefenbaker entered the darkened abandoned warehouse at 23 Market Street. Ray was extremely apprehensive, not only about being here, but about going to the hospital afterwards. But he had promised Fraser, and a promise was a promise. As they walked into the large room, Ray dropped back a few steps. Diefenbaker slowed down to accompany him. Fraser continued to walk ahead. Spotting a desk in the corner, he began to approach it.

He suddenly heard a loud cry coming from behind him. He quickly turned around and saw Ray grasping his head in his hands, sobbing and shouting, "No! Please, no!"

Fraser rapidly approached him, but before he could reach him, Ray pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at Fraser. He stopped in his tracks, stunned.

"Ray, where did you get the gun?" he calmly asked.

"You hid it from me, didn't ya'? It was part of yer plan. Well, I found it in the closet and now I'm gonna kill ya'!" Ray bellowed.

"Ray, listen to me, you're experiencing a flashback from the drug. You........"

"Shut up, Fraser! I'm tired of yer lies. Ya' tried to kill me and now I'm gonna kill you. It's either me or you, Fraser, and I'm making sure it's not me." He straightened out his arm.

"Ray, you have to listen to me," Fraser struggled to remain calm. "Things aren't as they appear, I would never hurt.........."

Ray pulled the trigger. Fraser dropped immediately, Diefenbaker bounding to his side as he lay on the warehouse floor. There was total silence in the room. Ray stood with the gun still pointing in the air, his eyes wide with shock. He bent over gasping for air. His gaze lowered to the floor where Fraser lay. "Frase?" There was no response from his partner, he lay motionless on the floor. Ray dropped his gun. It hit the floor with a dull thud. "FRASER?" Ray wailed.

"I don't think he can hear you," a voice resonated from the side of the warehouse. Ray turned abruptly to find Norman Marshall emerging from the shadows. He was carrying a gun as he walked towards Ray, a leering self-satisfied smile on his face.

Ray's breathing was again becoming labored. He recognized Norman as soon as he saw him.

"You son-of-a-bitch," Ray screamed, "yer behind this whole thing!"

"Why, I don't know what you're talking about, Detective," Norman said innocently. He approached Ray, stopping a mere two or three feet away. He kept his gun trained on Ray as he spoke. "All I know is, I witnessed you murder your partner here in cold blood, and I'm gonna tell whoever wants to know that you're a murderer," he leered. "I been waiting two years for this. I'm gonna enjoy every minute of it." There was a long silence as the two men stared at each other.

"I'm not so sure about that, Norman, yer probably not gonna enjoy prison food too much, they usually overcook it." Ray smiled.

Norman frowned. "You're delusional. This drug is really doin' a job on you."

"Well, Norm, I think you should drop the gun and put yer hands in the air cause yer under arrest." Ray was surprisingly calm.

Norman laughed. "This is fucking unbelievable. I love it! I'm holdin' the gun here and you're gonna arrest me?" he laughed.

"No, but my partner is."

At that moment, Norman felt a gun against the back of his head. "If you would be so kind, sir, as to carefully surrender your weapon to Detective Vecchio, or I'll be forced to blow your brains out of your head." It was Fraser.

"But.....but I saw him shoot you!"

"Blanks, Norm. Those were blanks in the gun," Ray said smiling. "Now gimme yer gun." he barked. He thought a moment. "Ya' know, I could always shoot ya' and blame it on that drug ya' stuck inta me," he said menacingly.

"All right, here." Norman angrily shoved the gun at Ray.

"Place your hands behind your back," Fraser ordered. He looked at his partner, "Ray, if you would be so kind......."

"Oh, sure, Frase." Ray retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his jacket pocket and handed them to Fraser.

"You know, Ray. You were quite convincing back there. I almost thought you had actually shot me." Fraser remarked as he cuffed Norman.

"Ya' mean it, Frase?" Ray smiled.

"Why, yes, Ray, I think you may have missed your calling. You could have been another.........James Dean perhaps?"

"Steve McQueen, Fraser." Ray corrected.

"Well, there you are."

Ray picked up his gun containing the blanks. They walked Norman out to the GTO.

************

A few days later Fraser and Ray sat in a luncheonette lingering over lunch, Ray drinking coffee, still decaffeinated, Fraser drinking tea. Marshall had been arraigned the previous day. Fraser had taken Ray to the hospital. After drawing blood, the drug was identified as one of the new synthetics designed to treat mental illness. One of the advances with this new drug was that there was no danger of residual effects, such as flashbacks, after a couple of weeks. As a result, Lieutenant Welsh had ordered Ray to go on disability for the rest of the month, Fraser moving in temporarily to keep an eye on him. While he wasn't thrilled about going on disability, Ray understood Welsh's actions. He looked across the table at his partner, who sat gazing into his teacup.

"Hey, Frase, I gotta ask you a question."

"Of course, Ray." Fraser noticed Ray's lingering pallor from the effects of the drug.

"When we were at the warehouse, I coulda really had a flashback and ya' woulda been in big trouble if I got hold of yer gun," he surmised.

"I knew you would never hurt me, Ray, even during a flashback. I was confident you could never pull the trigger."

"Wow, Frase, ya' really believe that? I mean, what if I reached into yer jacket pocket, pulled out the gun and shot ya' before I knew what hit me? I mean, you were in danger of bein' killed."

"Well, not really, Ray, you see, your gun wasn't in my jacket pocket, it was in my boot."

"But I saw ya' put it in yer pocket before we left my apartment," Ray argued.

"Yes, Ray, but you didn't see me take it out of my pocket and put it in my boot."

"Oh, so all that stuff about you knowin' I'd never pull the trigger was a buncha crap?"

"No, not at all," Fraser explained, "but it never hurts to have some insurance."

"Yeah, thanks a lot, Fraser. Come on, let's go."

Ray grabbed the check from the table as the two men approached the cashier. "Uh, Frase, you gotta pay, I don't have my wallet." Ray handed the check to Fraser.

"Ray, I saw you put your wallet in your pocket before we left your apartment."

"Yeah, Frase, but you didn't see me take it out of my pocket and leave it on the kitchen table."

Ray paused. "It never hurts to have some insurance, Frase." He smiled. "Oh yeah, and don't forget the tip."

Ray slapped Fraser on the back as he walked out to the GTO to wait for him.

The End

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