Disclaimer: Characters and Due South are property of Alliance. No copyright infringement intended, and no offence meant. All errors are unintentional.
Warning: m/m content. No sex. One mild swear word. It was already used in the Pilot, so, I think I'm justified in using it here. I'm sorry but I am unfamiliar with the rating system. Unless confirmed otherwise, I think it's no more than a PG-13?
Flames, otters and feedback of any sort are welcome and encouraged at: tuktoyaktuk@hotmail.com
by Hsu-Lyn Yap
The sharp report of the gunshots rang out in the warehouse, echoing and re-echoing until he thought he would go out of his mind from the ringing in his ears. Effectively blocking out the physical discomfort, he leapt, descending on his intended victim, knocking the breath out of him. From then on, it was quick work to place the handcuffs on the bitterly cursing man.
Everything fell silent for a moment, except for the muttered curses of the captured men. He looked around him. They had taken out four of the men. There had only been four men to start with. They had seen them skulking around the warehouse, watching and waiting. The Feds were way off track as usual. They were now probably surrounding and entering another warehouse about a mile away. He looked around for his partner. Strange. He had been behind him just a moment ago. The drug-dealers were lined up before him, ready for the Feds to come and take them away, and to get all the glory. So, where on earth was he?
In the silence, there was a volley of gunshots. He recognised one of the retorts. It was his partner's. What the hell was he doing out back? Another silence descended following the shot. A silence stiller than the one before. There was no sound. Nothing, except his own breathing. He closed his eyes, willing himself to shut out the peripheral sounds. It was a practised habit. It took just a few seconds for him to realise that something was amiss.
He did not know what he was listening out for. A footstep? A friendly acknowledgement from his partner? A triumphant shout? Anything! But there was nothing.
A cold chill gripped his heart. Something was wrong. His heartbeat began to beat in double time. Gunshots... his partner... oh God! No!
"Oh God, don't let it be him! Please God!" he muttered as he ran round to the back of the warehouse. He wasn't even sure which God he was calling out to. Any God would do. Any.......
"Great Scott!" it slipped out involuntarily as he came upon the grim scene at the back of the warehouse.
A man lay facedown in the dirt, his gun hand still out stretched, the finger still on the trigger. Blood was oozing out a neat hole in his back and from his shoulder. Glassy eyes stared out at him unseeingly. He would never fire that gun again.
He turned away from the man, more concerned with a more pressing matter. Where was he? He scanned the area, slightly wild-eyed. His sharp eyes caught sight of a shoe sticking out from behind a makeshift wall of oil-drums. Heart racing, he ran over, tipping over the drums in his frenzy to get to his partner and friend.
"Oh, my God!" The blood drained out from his face as he stared at the figure lying on the ground. Blood was everywhere. On the walls of the warehouse, on the ground, on the new suit his partner had just been so proud of that morning. Blood... his blood. There was a wound in his leg and a gash on his head, but the one which made him blanch was the one in his abdomen. He knew it was nearly always fatal.
"Ray! Can you hear me? Ray?!" he was galvanised into action. His logical side quickly reasserted itself as he pressed his fingers to the side of his partner's neck. They were shaking so badly, he almost missed the faint pulse. He nearly passed out with relief when he detected the faint beat.
"His cell phone! Call 911!" he muttered as he retrieved Ray's phone which was miraculously in working order despite the blood on it. The call was brief, precise and to the point. The ambulance was on it's way, he was assured.
He quickly undid his belt and looped it just above the leg wound, forming a crude but effective tourniquet. The blood flow began to slow. But there was nothing he could do about the wound in his abdomen.
"Ray?" he wanted so badly to hold him, but was afraid that moving him would aggravate matters. He looked so pale.....
"Benny?" the hoarse whisper was so soft, he had to lean down to catch it. "Did I get that sonofabitch?" he spoke in bursts.
"He's dead, Ray." Fraser nearly cried with joy at hearing his voice.
"Good." Ray closed his eyes again.
"Ray! Stay with me!" Fraser called urgently. He was afraid that he would lose him again.
"You okay, Benny?" Ray opened his eyes with a great effort.
"I'm fine, Ray." Fraser did not know what else to say. "He shot you, Ray."
Some of the old teasing light came back into the green eyes. "You don't say, Benny."
"He got you in the leg and stomach, and you have a gash on your head. You have lost a lot of blood, Ray." Fraser looked alternately relieved and worried.
Ray attempted a smile. "Head wounds....always seem worse than they are, Benny."
"Oh, Ray! How can you joke at a time like this?!" Fraser shook his head in frustration. "What happened here? Why did you come out? You were just behind me, when we were in the warehouse. Why, damn it!"
"S'not your fault. Heard s'mthing. He fired first." Ray's words were starting to slur.
"Ray! Stay with me....Ray! Hold on! The ambulance is on its way." Fraser called desperately.
"S'all right, Benny." Ray's eyes slid closed again.
"RAY!!"
There was a slight pressure on his hand. Ray forced his eyes open one last time. He smiled. "Love you, Benny."
"Ray? Don't.... RAY!!" Benny called frantically, as Ray's eyes closed. "Don't die on me. Please don't die, Ray!" the tears ran unchecked down his face as he cradled the limp body, ignoring the blood slowly soaking into his uniform, turning the red serge an even darker red. In the distance, the whine of the sirens could be heard winding their way down to them.
******************
"It's not your fault, Fraser. You have to stop blaming yourself." Francesca came to stand with him by the window.
"But I was the one who told him there were only four men. I told him that. He trusted my judgement, as he always does. Why didn't I think that they would have a driver? I saw them get out of the car. There were four men. Four men." Fraser stared unseeingly at his reflection in the glass.
"It was a mistake, Fraser. Everyone makes mistakes."
"No, Francesca. Not everyone sends their best friend out to be killed." Fraser's voice was flat.
"Don't say that!" her voice was sharp. "It's just been three hours, okay? The doctors are doing their best. Ray is not dead, okay? He's not!" her voice shook, as she turned away from him, hugging herself, trying to ease the pain.
"I'm sorry, Frannie. That was thoughtless of me." He was quick to apologise.
"He's not going to die, right, Ben?" her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him, begging for him to tell her it was so. Even if she knew it could be a lie. It was better to hang on to a fragile hope than give up to the hopeless inevitable truth.
"No, Frannie. He's not going to die. The doctors are doing their best." Fraser lied, putting his arms around her, and holding her tight. They stood there an age, each drawing comfort from the other. One the sister, the other, the partner, best friend and lover. Both united in their prayers and love for the man in the operating theatre, fighting for his life.
**********************
"Is he going to be all right, Doctor?" Francesca asked breathlessly, hours later. The doctor was still in his surgical scrubs as he came towards them with his file.
"Your brother is a fighter." He smiled. "Yes, he will be all right." There were relieved smiles all around and Ray's mother said a silent prayer of thanks.
"There was serious blood loss, but the torquinet stopped the bleeding from the leg at least. The wound in his abdomen really looked worse than it really was. Miraculously, the bullet missed all the major organs. He is still at a critical stage at the moment. We will like to observe him for 24 hours before we can say for sure that he has suffered no permanent physical injury."
"There is, however, one other complication." The relieved atmosphere tensed again. "He took quite a knock to his head, possibly when he fell. There is a concussion. Though not physically serious, the neurosurgeon has indicated that he might suffer some memory lapse. Nothing major. Maybe one or two events of his life could be hazy, or he might forget things totally. People, names, places, that sort of thing."
"Is it permanent?" Fraser asked hesitantly. He still felt responsible for this, and found it hard to face Ray's family, especially his mother, who had been so understanding and accepting of their relationship.
The doctor shrugged. "According to the neurosurgeon, it might be, or it might not. Some people have recovered fully from this temporary amnesia. Others never do. It's hard to tell with individuals."
"Can we see him?" Mrs. Vecchio asked tearfully.
"He's in ICU at the moment. I can allow maybe one or two of you to see him. Not more than that, I'm afraid. He will still be under anaesthetic, so he'll be unconscious."
"Benton, you come with me." Mrs. Vecchio held out a hand to the pale, silent man. "I will need someone strong with me."
Fraser took her hand, and the tears came involuntarily, at this unexpected honour. The other members of the family nodded their consent, as if he had been the natural choice all along. He would find his guilt harder to bear under the understanding and forgiving nature of his adopted family.
*****
The ICU was dim, and quiet except for the beeping of the EKG machine, monitoring Ray's heartbeat. He lay in the bed, pale and white. Clear tubes and wires snaked their way all over his body, carrying medicine and nutrients, monitoring his condition, trying to make him well again.
"Raimundo?" his mother reached out a shaking hand, almost afraid to touch him. As if he would disappear from their lives if she did. She laid a hand on his cool skin, and choked back her tears.
Fraser watched from beside her, feeling guilty, feeling responsible and wanting to cry. Mrs. Vecchio began sobbing, as she turned to Fraser, holding onto him, seeking comfort and reassurance. Fraser held her, and bit back his own tears. He had to be strong. Strong enough for them both.
Slowly, he turned and led her out of the room. The beeping of the EKG machine sounded unnaturally loud in the otherwise silent room.
********************
"Ma?" Ray croaked, when he opened his eyes.
"Raimundo!" his mother began weeping tears of relief. She was unable to say much else, and Ray saw her being led away. Another person entered his line of vision.
"Frannie?"
"How are you doing, big brother? Just had to make us worry about you as usual, huh?" the tears and smile, belied her words.
"You know me, Frannie. Never one to stay out of trouble." He mustered a smile.
"I'm glad you are okay." She leaned forward to kiss him.
One by one, the members of his family came to see how he was. His sister Maria and her husband looking relieved, his nieces and nephews wide-eyed in awed silence, his mother coming again to kiss him, to alternately berate and tell him how happy and relieved she was, as she lapsed into her native Italian.
A flash of blue caught his eye. He turned and looked at the man standing silently at the foot of his bed, watching him. He looked pained, worried, and yet, relieved. He did not wear the regular white coats of the doctors.
Ray looked at him for a long time, ignoring the chatter around him. He looked familiar, and yet...... The chatter ceased as the others finally noticed who his gaze was fixed on. Ray's brow furrowed. He knew this man.......didn't he? Well, if he didn't, then what was he doing at his bedside when only family was allowed? But if he did, why couldn't he remember his name?
"Ma, who's that?" he asked finally, still staring at the stranger. He was totally unprepared for the look of horror... of pain that shot through those brilliant blue eyes. The blood had drained from his face, and he looked so pale, Ray was half afraid that he was going to pass out. His hands were gripping the foot of the bed as if that was the only thing keeping him standing. Pain, incomprehension, bewilderment......fear flashed across the good-looking face.
*Oh God! I know him?* Ray racked his brains frantically. Somewhere in his mind, something stirred. But it was too remote. Too distant.
"I'm sorry. I can't remember who you are." He admitted ruefully.
"Ray, it's Fraser." Francesca finally spoke up. "You remember Fraser?"
"Fraser?" Ray thought hard and long. He shook his head again. "I'm sorry. I don't remember a 'Fraser'." The face at the foot of the bed had turned even whiter, if it were possible.
Francesca looked worriedly first from Fraser, then to a confused Ray. She attempted a half-hearted laugh. "Don't play these games, Ray. Of course you remember Fraser." She led Fraser to Ray's side. "It's Benton Fraser, your best friend."
"My best friend?" Ray still looked confused. "Did we go to school together?"
"No, I.... I'm Canadian." Fraser finally managed to get the words past his numb lips.
"My best friend is a Canadian?" Ray looked thoroughly confused now.
"We were.... are partners. I'm a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police."
"A Mountie?! How can I be partners with a Mountie? I thought I was at the Chicago PD. 27th Precinct, under Lt. Welsh."
Ray's answer, tight with his clear and detailed memory of his job, and of someone as remote as his superior officer, hit Fraser hard. Ray did not remember him! Of all the people in his life, he had not remembered the one person with whom he had shared his life and his work . He did not remember Fraser, his best friend and his partner, both at work and at home. He did not remember him!
The revelation and inevitable denial shook him. He had to get out of there before he did or said anything unforgivable. He had to leave.
"It's too early to tell, Fraser!" Francesca called after him in the hallway. He slowed his steps, out of customary politeness than a personal wish to do so. He wanted to scream, shout, yell, hit something.....anything to release that pent-up frustration, and emptiness.
"The doctor said it might be temporary." She grabbed at his arm before he could leave.
"He also said it might be permanent." The dull voice sounded strange coming from Fraser.
"This is only the first day, Fraser. Give him time. He'll remember you." Francesca tried to sound optimistic. She had never seen Fraser as crushed as he was, and it frightened her. Ray would know how to handle this. Ray would know how to handle him! But Ray did not recognise him.
"I'm sure he will." Fraser tried to give a half-hearted smile. It failed. He turned to leave.
"Wait, Fraser. Where are you going?" Frannie looked worried.
"Home." He said shortly.
"I'll drop by later, Fraser!" she called after him, as she watched his retreating back. The perfect posture never wavered. But there was a slump to his shoulders as he strode away. The emotional pain was too much for one man to bear alone. As usual, Fraser was attempting the impossible.
**********************
"So, that's how we met?" Ray watched the man in the red uniform. No, no! He was Fraser, or Benny. He had to remember that!
"In essence, yes." Fraser nodded. Francesca had suggested that he wear his usual red serge tunic. The visual assault....her words not his!....the visual assault might trigger Ray's memory. It did not seem to be working.
"And you wear this uniform all the time?" Ray gave a small smile.
Fraser shrugged and nodded. "It's not usual for us to do so, and I don't know why it seems to be in my job requirement to wear it. I sometimes do sentry duty."
"And what's that?" Ray might not remember the man, but he was an interesting companion to talk to, at least.
"Basically, I just stand outside the Canadian Consulate, until my shift is over. We aren't usually allowed to talk or move."
"You mean you just stand there? That's your job?" Ray laughed. It sounded so much like the old Ray that Fraser was forced to join in the laughter.
"Well, sometimes. Usually, as a punishment for disobeying orders or going outside the scope of my duty." Fraser explained.
"Wow! You people are serious! Sentry duty! If they tried that on me, I'd sue their butts off!" Ray laughed again. "Oww!"
"Are you okay, Ray?" Fraser was immediately alert, worried at the sudden grimace of pain in his friend's face.
"I'm okay....Benny? I'm okay." He eased back into the bed. "It's just my stomach. Laughing hurts. And they say laughter is the best medicine!"
Fraser smiled. At least Ray hadn't lost his sense of humour.
"Inspector Thatcher! Nice of you to drop by!" Ray called from the bed to the woman standing uncomfortably by the door.
"We might not exactly be friends, but I am human." She kidded him, avoiding the dumbfounded look on Fraser's face. Dumbfounded at the fact that she had come to visit, and at the fact that Ray had remembered her, but not him!
"You're not serious, Meg!" he grinned. Over the years, he and the Inspector had developed some sort of rapport. It could not exactly be called friendship, but they got along in their own way.
"Watch it, Vecchio!" she warned with a smile. "I'm glad to see that you are hanging on in there. You had us worried for a while."
"Hey! You can't keep a good man down!" Ray grinned. "Hey, Benny. This is Inspector Thatcher from the Canadian Consulate. You guys know each other?"
Fraser slid her a glance, catching her surprised look in return. She evidently did not know about Ray's memory lapse.
"She is my superior officer, Ray." He said quietly, trying to hide the renewed pain. Then an idea struck him. "How did you know her?"
Ray grinned. "Hey, I thought I was the one with the memory lapse here? No seriously. I met her.....geez! where did I meet her?!" he thought hard, but shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't remember where I met her. Why don't you tell us, Inspector?"
Inspector Thatcher looked a little confused. "It was a long time ago. I can't really remember now. Is it important?"
"Well, I'm trying to remember who Benny really is. Everyone says we were best friends, and partners, but I can't remember. It's frustrating. He was just telling me of how we first met." Ray explained.
"You can't remember Fraser?" she looked surprised. "Is it permanent? I mean, Fraser lost his memory a while back as well. But it returned."
"You lost your memory as well?" Ray looked over as Fraser.
"Well, I don't exactly remember much of it." Fraser admitted. Ray burst out laughing, and the Inspector gave a small smile at his unintended pun.
"I mean...you know what I mean." He looked a little embarrassed.
"How did you get it back then?" Ray asked after the pain in his abdomen made him sober down.
"You took me places, told me about things we had done together, and it just suddenly came back."
"And that's what you are trying to do now, aren't you?" Ray was serious. "Benny, what if I don't get my memory back?"
*I would be devastated, Ray! It would.....we could never be the same again.* But Fraser simply gave a reassuring smile. "You will get your memory back, Ray. At least you remember things. Maybe not everything, but you do remember the most important things."
"But I don't remember you, Benny." Ray said softly. "I know I should. There is something in my gut feeling that tells me I should. But no matter how hard I try, I can't. It can't mean that you are not important. I know you are one of the most important people in my life. I just cannot remember who you are!"
The Inspector looked from one man to the other. She felt sorry and sad for them both. They had been so important for each other before this incident. It had just taken one trigger-happy, drug dealing sonofabitch to destroy two perfectly happy lives.
*******************
"I remember something about.....a woman? Was there a woman in my life, Benny?" Ray asked thoughtfully.
Fraser mentally weighed up the pros and cons of telling him the truth of their relationship, but decided against it. It was still too soon.
"Not that I know of, Ray. What does this woman look like?"
"Well, everytime I remember her, I see this woman with long hair. Long curly dark hair. And then I see this train, and she's on it. But I don't remember anything else. Do you know her, Benny?"
Fraser closed his eyes in anguish. Was the ghost of Victoria never to leave them in peace? Did she have to return to haunt them, even now? And to haunt Ray?!
"Yes, I knew her, Ray." His voice was flat. "She was a robber. I had apprehended her in Canada, and sent her to prison. She got out on parole, and came down to Chicago. She made use of me to help her get some diamonds. I... I was in love... I thought I was in love with her once. You never liked her, and distrusted her right from the start. She had run away, and wanted me to follow her on the train. I... I was going to, and just before I got on the train, you arrived, and saw she had a gun. You thought she was trying to shoot me, so you shot her first. But it got me instead...."
"I shot you?!" Ray exclaimed. "And you are still friends with me? Are you sure we are friends?"
"Yes, Ray. We are friends. We are close friends......best friends." The look of pain had returned to his eyes.
"Geez... when was this?"
"A couple of years back. I've never heard of her again."
"I can't remember if I ever apologised for shooting you. I apologise now." Ray looked almost sorry.
Fraser smiled. "You did apologise, Ray. You saved my life while I was at hospital. You took a shot meant for me."
"I did? Wow! We must be friends then!" Ray grinned.
"Yes, we are." *We are even more then just mere friends, Ray.* but Fraser could not bring himself to tell Ray that. Not yet.
********************
"Have I ever been to Canada, Benny?"
"Well, we went a couple of times after we....after we became....friends." Fraser said cautiously. "We went first to rebuild my father's cabin in the Northwest Territories."
"Sounds cold! Did we do a good job of it?"
"We never made it there. Our plane was hijacked and our plane crashed in some woods. I was temporarily blinded and paralysed from the impact of the crash, and you had to help us find the way out, while attempting to apprehend the hijacker."
"I had to help you?" Ray laughed. "Me? You're kidding, right?"
"No, Ray. You got the man with a bola."
"A what?!"
"A bola. The Inuit use it to hunt."
"You talk about these Inuit people a lot, Benny. How come you know so much about them?" Ray asked curiously.
"I grew up with them, Ray. I lived with my grandparents who were based primarily in Tuktoyaktuk."
"You are making that up!" Ray laughed again. "There's no place called Tuktoyaktuk!"
"But there is, Ray. I grew up there."
"You're kidding!"
"No, Ray. I'm not. I'll bring you a map tomorrow. Tuktoyaktuk is near Inuvik and Aklavik."
That just served to send Ray off into further gales of laughter, and pain.
******************
"Do you remember your car, Ray?"
"Yeah. 1971 mint condition Buick Riviera, complete with original cigarette lighter." Ray said proudly.
"Well, not anymore, Ray." Fraser told him cautiously. If this traumatic experience did not bring back his memory, nothing would!
"I made you blow up your car."
"You what??!!" Ray yelped. "Look, Benny. You keep telling me all these things about first, me shooting you, then you trying to drown me in a bank vault, and you refusing to save my life because you were playing on the psychology of the criminals while they threaten to shoot me, the both of us being strapped to bombs in the Justice Building.......are you sure...VERY sure that we are friends? Because I would never, and I mean, NEVER blow up my beloved car. Not even for a friend!"
"But you did, Ray. Twice."
"Twice??!!" Ray's mouth hung open. "God! Tell me this is a nightmare!"
"It isn't, Ray." Fraser tried to explain. "The first time, it was to save our lives and the life of a prisoner we were escorting to Canada. That is one of the reasons you don't particularly like going to Canada. Too many bad memories."
"The second time was not really my fault. It had been rigged up with a bomb. Dt. Louis Gardino was killed in the explosion."
"I remember Louis' funeral. I remember the car now. It was burning, and I had to hold Huey back from trying to go in and save Louis. How did you know about that?" Ray looked thoughtful.
"I was there, Ray. I was there when Irene got shot as well." Fraser tested the waters.
Ray's face fell. "I remember Irene." he said quietly. "I loved her, ever since high school, even though she was Frank Zuko's sister. When she got shot.... How do you know about this?"
"I was there, Ray. I saw her getting shot. I was with you at the hospital." Fraser was at his wits end. Was there nothing Ray remembered about him at all? He had tried to bring up the most traumatic memories, and Ray had remembered them all. But he never featured in any of them. Not one. "Wait! I remember something!" Ray exclaimed suddenly. "A dog! Someone had a dog. It was big and white. It had a strange name."
"Diefenbaker." Fraser supplied.
"That's it! Diefenbaker! He liked jelly donuts. He used to steal mine at the precinct. I can't remember whose it was. Couldn't have been Elaine's. Welsh would have a fit! But he was always at the precinct....."
"Diefenbaker is mine, Ray." Fraser was tired now. "And he's not a dog. He's a wolf."
"A wolf! But he was always at the precinct."
"That's because he follows me where I go. And I was at the precinct a lot." Fraser sighed. It was unbelievable. Ray remembered everything! He even remembered Dief, and Dief was the closest thing Fraser had to family.
"But I thought you worked at the Consulate." Ray looked puzzled.
"I do. I just had a lot of free time, and I used to spend it at the precinct with you."
"Was that how we became partners?"
"Probably. It was sort-of unspoken."
"But why didn't I have a partner from the precinct. I thought all detectives had partners."
"I don't know, Ray. You'll have to ask Lt. Welsh about that. Look, I have to go, Ray. I'll come back tomorrow. I'll bring Dief, if they will let me."
******************
"Hi there, Dief!" Ray fondled the estactic wolf. Dief whined and licked every part of Ray he could reach. He was not allowed on the bed, but he had settled himself in the chair Fraser usually occupied by the bed. Fraser was now perched gingerly on the edge of the hospital bed.
Dief had not understood why Ray did not come to the apartment anymore. He had been especially confused when Fraser had returned to the apartment, with his blood-soaked uniform. Dief had recognised the scent of Ray, and he had gone a little berserk. There had been too much blood....the scent was too strong. He had thought Fraser had... but no. Fraser loved Ray. Dief knew that. Fraser was always happy when Ray was around. And it went the same for Ray. They argued and fought, but they always made up, like all other couples did. They would never be happy apart.
Dief was a wolf, and he had a wolf's mentality and philosophy about these things. Wolves mated for life. Nothing could separate a wolf and its mate. Fraser and Ray were the same. Once together, they could never exist apart.
He had seen and sensed Fraser's disappointment every day when he returned from the hospital. He did not know the source of the problem, but he felt sorry for his master. He could smell Ray's scent on Fraser, and so knew that he was all right. But he did not know why his master was so upset, nor why he cried at night. All he could do was to be there, to provide what comfort he could.
He could sense now, that Ray was on the mend. It did not need a wolf's keen sense of smell and animal intuition to see that. Ray had been at the hospital for nearly three weeks now. His leg and head had healed well, and the wound in his abdomen was not causing anymore complications. He would be discharged in a few days now.
Fraser watched the man and wolf interacting, and felt a sudden and irrational jealousy for his pet. Dief shared a bond with Ray that he could never begin to bridge! Dief! And just as suddenly, he felt ashamed. At least Ray remembered Dief. Dief was the closest, most precious thing to Fraser, next to Ray, and he was glad to see that at least, not every part of Fraser's existence had been erased from Ray's memory.
*****************
"Good evening, Doctor." Fraser tipped his Stetson politely. He had started going back to work. Inspector Thatcher had been understanding, but firm. They could not pay him unless he worked. And he was only allowed to take so many days off his sick leave.
Ray had been discharged for more than a month now, and had started resuming light duties at the precinct. He, being typical Ray, was itching to take on his usual caseload, but Lt. Welsh was firm in his refusal. Ray was on the barest of duties, and that was that! It made him bored, and he looked forward to Fraser's visits every now and then. In that respect, at least, things remained unchanged.
"I'm sorry to keep you so late. I promise that this will be just a quick query." Fraser was ever polite.
"Come in, Fraser is it? Right. Come in." The old man opened the door of his office.
"Dr. Montgomery, I was reading your article on memory-loss in the New Chicago Medical Journal. I have a few questions."
"You are a Mountie?" Dr. Montgomery asked seating himself behind the desk.
"Yes, sir. I work at the Canadian Consulate here in Chicago."
"Far from home, aren't you?"
"I would say so. Yes, sir. I'm from the Northwest Territories."
"You ever miss home?"
"Well, I used to a lot. But I've gotten used to life in Chicago. My life is here, now."
"Wife?"
"No, sir." Fraser squirmed under the questioning. "I'm... I was living with someone."
"I see." The kindly blue eyes twinkled at him. "You love him?"
Fraser looked up, startled. Had he said anything? But he simply nodded in reply to the question. "Very much so, sir." Dr. Montgomery had just demonstrated that he was not known as one of the country's leading psychologists for nothing!
"Right. You said you had a question?" Dr. Montgomery finally let the matter rest.
"Yes, sir." Fraser removed a photocopied article from the document case he was carrying. "It says here that you are an authority on memory loss."
"Well, that's what they say." The doctor smiled.
"My friend sustained a concussion about two months ago. The neurosurgeon told us that he might suffer memory lapses, but when he regained consciousness, he could remember everything, and everyone he met, except me. It's like I was never part of his life. He even remembers my pet wolf, and he vaguely remembered my apartment, but about me, nothing." Fraser set Ray's case before the doctor.
"I read something about repressed memories in your article. I was wondering if you could help explain it to me."
"I was talking about repressed memories of traumatic events. Events that happened when the person was a child, for example, or any event at all that the person does not want to remember. A part of the brain will, in effect, shut down that memory, so it would seem like it never happened. It happens to us all the time. You could encounter something unpleasant on your way home, and once you reach home, you would have convinced yourself that nothing had happened." Dr. Montgomery explained. "Your friend's case is an interesting one, though. Did you do anything to him that would cause this memory lapse?"
Fraser allowed himself a rueful smile. "All the time, Dr. But he used to be very vocal in voicing his displeasure. I don't think he would repress it. He made sure I knew exactly how he felt about what I did. Besides, he has blocked me out from his memory. Not just parts of me."
"That is true." The doctor looked thoughtful. "I encountered a case like this once. But only once. Something terrible had happened, and the girl was so afraid she... how did your friend get concussed?" the faded blue eyes had a thoughtful light in them.
"He is a police detective. We were on a case of some drug dealers and we had apprehended them at a warehouse just outside the city. He was caught in gunfire, and was badly hurt......." Fraser cringed on recalling the painful incident.
"How badly hurt?"
"He was shot in his leg and abdomen, and he had lost a lot of blood. I thought he was going to die." Fraser's voice dropped, as he saw Ray's pale form again, lying on the blood-soaked ground.
"You were there, Fraser?"
"Yes, I was. I called the hospital, and I stayed with him. He regained consciousness once or twice. He remembered me then. He was even joking about the wound on his head. He.. he said....." he stopped, unable to carry on, as his eyes welled up with tears. *'Love you, Benny.'* That was what he had said.The last thing Ray had said to him. The old Ray who knew who he was.
"Were you very close friends?" the doctor asked kindly.
Fraser nodded. "We were lovers." He said finally.
"I see. I might be able to explain what has happened. But it's just a theory." The doctor disclaimed.
"What I think happened is this. When your friend was hurt, and from what you told me, he was very badly hurt, he might have thought that he was going to die. You were the last person he saw, and I would presume that he loved you almost as much as you love him. When he thought he was going to die, or he was afraid that he might not live a normal life again, his brain automatically picked up on all his memories with you, and stored them away, so that they were kept safe. So that he would carry a part of you with him, wherever he went. What has happened now is that the memory is buried so deep, so safely, that he cannot recall any detail of it. You said he remembers some events you shared, and even your pet....wolf? but he doesn't remember you. That is because you are in his subconscious. That is the irony of it. He loves you so much that he cannot remember you."
"I will be frank with you, Fraser. I do not know if he will ever let the memory re-surface. Sometimes, repressed memories come back when the person least expects it. Other times, it just never comes back. All you can do is to give your friend time. It could take days or it could take years." Dr. Montgomery looked at the distraught young man before him, feeling sorry for him already.
"The human capacity for memory is a wonderful thing, Fraser. But sometimes, it can be your own personal hell. Help your friend, but don't forget to help yourself as well. The only medicine I can prescribe you is time. Time is the best healer of such wounds."
Fraser was silent for a long moment. Finally, he looked up at the doctor. He gave a small smile. "Thank you kindly, Dr. Montgomery."
************************
"Last call for flight CA 139. Flight CA 139, now boarding." The PA system in the airport crackled with the announcement.
"That's my last call. Thank you kindly for the ride to the airport." Fraser fingered his airline ticket tensely.
"I'm sorry to hear about your transfer back to Canada. I was just starting to get to know you." Ray gave a weak smile. "Frannie and Ma will miss you."
"I'll miss them too." Fraser said softly. He had made Ray promise that under no circumstances was anyone to see him off at the airport. He had requested the transfer a month ago. It had taken them two months to approve it. Diefenbaker had been shipped back North first, so that by the time Fraser got back, he could be let out from quarantine. He would need Dief's company now, more than ever.
"I'll miss you, Ray. Thanks for everything you have done for me in Chicago." Fraser said awkwardly. There was a lump in his throat the size of a baseball. But he held back the threatening tears. *It's for the best.* he reminded himself.
"Benny? If I had remembered who you are, would you be leaving now?" Ray asked suddenly.
Fraser took a deep breath. The question caught him off-guard. How was he supposed to answer that?
"I don't know, Ray." He said honestly. "But that is a moot point, isn't it?"
Ray looked startled for a moment. Then, the look passed. "I guess you are right. Stay in touch, okay?"
Fraser nodded, by now unable to speak. He bent down to pick up his luggage, and Ray surprised him with a tight, fierce hug. Fraser could do little but hug him back.
"I'll miss you, Benny." He whispered. "I'm sorry I can't.... I can't ..." His green eyes were suspiciously bright as he pulled away.
Fraser simply swallowed and picked up his bag and Stetson. The blue and green gazes locked for a moment, and then he turned to go. He knew he would never see Ray or Chicago ever again.
Ray watched Benny hand his ticket to the flight attendant and waited until he had disappeared from view. Then slowly, he turned and made his way back out to the car park.
*****
Ray sat unmoving in his car, watching the aeroplanes take off, wondering which was Benny's. He hardly knew him, and yet it seemed like he had known him forever.
Benny and everyone else had said that they were good friends. Close friends. Best friends. But his gut reaction told him that there was something more to it. There had to be something more.
The gleaming silver aeroplane glinted in the afternoon sun, and taxied the runway, taking off smoothly into the blue sky. Ray wiped his damp cheeks. An empty, hollow feeling settled within him. That was the plane Benny was on.
Benton.....Benny Fraser. His best friend, partner and..... he wished he could remember.
THE END
Hsu-Lyn Yap
copyright 1997
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NB:
the theory of the doctor is purely product of my mind. Any errors are
unintentional.YHL