By: Elizabeth

"It's all right." Sara whispered, crawling on to the double bed beside him and dropping the washcloth on the floor. She drew closer, wrapping her arms around him and pulling herself full against him.

His thin, taut body chilled her while she rubbed her hands against his shoulders and arms. He moaned softly. He couldn't actually struggle but he gave his best impression.

"Don't." He said when her hands reached his hips. She obeyed, scooting down so her hands could reach his thighs instead. He made a soft, pained noise.

"It's all right, Ray." She repeated. "I'm just warming you. I can't let ya freeze t'death."

Slowly she moved back up and covered his body with hers. She rested her head against his chest for a moment. He still felt rigid beneath her.

Using his chest for leverage she pushed herself up on her elbows. There was little light trickling in through cracks in the wood and that light came from kerosene lamps in the house above them. Still, she could see a nasty bruise along his jaw. She imagined the marks on his torso would be worse. And she could see the pain in his tightly closed eyes, the grimace in his clenched mouth.

"Relax." She whispered. "It'll be easier if you relax."

"Don't think I can." He pushed out, holding himself stiff against the cold.

She lay across him again. Sharing her warmth in the only way possible.

Dressed in jeans and a thermal shirt, Ray was not prepared for the autumn cold seeping into the cellar. Sara's father predicted early in the week that the full force of winter would be on them by the week's end. As usual, he guessed well. The temperature dropped early that afternoon and the night promised to go even colder.

Ray was in no position to preserve his own body heat. His arms were tied above his head and rope was strung through the headboard and attached to a heavy metal hook in the wall. His ankles were tied together and attached to an old-fashioned hand washer. The winch and press that would have worked well for squeezing water from clothes now served to keep his body pulled cruelly tight.

Sara wasn't sure of her father's intentions in this. He had been furious when he discovered that Ray was a spy. At first, it seemed he just wanted to punish him for his deception. Much the way he punished her or her brothers when they lied. Well, not this severely, of course, but she thought the concept was the same. Now after two days she was starting to wonder.

Her father made it clear to her that she should not form any attachment to him. She was supposed to stay out of the cellar while he and her brother, Ezra were hunting. Initially, Sara had planned to obey him. She usually did. Disobeying her father was dangerous.

Before they left, she promised not to feed Ray, not to give him water, not to bring him a blanket. Her father was adamant. They would punish him for the death of her mother. Sara learned early that her mother was nearly a saint who died while giving Sara life. She wanted only to show respect and gratitude to the woman who lived in a photograph on her bedroom dresser.

But, it was too cold. Her father never made her promise to let him die.

"Let me go." Ray whispered.

She lifted her head. Sara leaned against him with one hand and stroked his brow with the other. He had warmed beneath her. He had stopped shivering. His breathing still sounded strained though, probably from being stretched.

"Let me go." He said again.

"I won't do that." She responded. "Don't start thinking that'll happen."

"We got along pretty good, Sara."

"Yes we did. But it was all a lie on your part. Don't go thinkin' I'll give up my family cuz ya helped me with dishes."

"He's gonna kill me."

"No, he's not. He'll come back tomorrow and he'll take you out in the woods a few miles and leave you there. You'll just have to find your way back. You'll be all right. You can walk out."

"Ya got the wrong guy, Sara. I'm bear food out here."

She snuggled closer against him keeping his truth to herself. Ray might be tall but he was waif thin without any fat to hold out the cold. Lean and muscular, he was probably capable in the city but out here, he'd be lost.

"At least it's a chance." She said, trying to soothe him.

"No, it's not. I wanna go home more than anything. I got somebody waitin' for me an' I just wanna get outta here. But if it comes down t'dyin' from exposure, you tell him t'shoot me. I seen enough pictures uh people who get lost out there t'know I don' want it. Heard enough about animal attacks too. You tell him. If it's a choice, he oughta shoot me."

"Shsh." She hushed him. "There's still time. It's too soon to start thinkin' like that."

A few days earlier, when his boss called him into his office, Ray Kowalski could never have imagined where this assignment would lead. Lieutenant Welsh motioned for him to shut the office door, then asked him if he wanted to go undercover for three days.

"I am undercover." Kowalski responded.

"True enough, Detective. However, I mean really undercover. You wouldn't be sleeping in your apartment." He shifted, folding his arms over his chest.

"What's the gig?"

"The FBI's Chicago office is looking for a volunteer to check out a family living just off the edge of the Shawnee National Forest.

"Survivalists?"

"Apparently. At any rate they've had some reports that maybe they're stockpiling weapons."

"Not news, Lieu. They're the doom an' gloom club."

"As I was saying," Welsh continued with a warning look, "They're probably building up a stash. Richard Wilkes, he's the father, has been sending hate mail to the Director of the FBI and a handful of senators for a few years now. The FBI has him on their wait and watch list. The letters have been getting more intense and they're starting to worry about him."

"So, why don't the Feds just go shake him?"

"They're in a touchy situation with that. About seventeen years ago the FBI and the ATF tried to serve a warrant on them that went to hell in the first five minutes. Think Ruby Ridge and you'll have an idea. Anyway, Wilkes held them off with a shotgun."

"A shotgun? One guy?"

"There were children in the house. And Wilkes' wife was pregnant. They couldn't storm it and they didn't want to throw teargas because Rebecca Wilkes had gone into labor."

"Oh, shit."

"That would be accurate. Anyway he held them off for about a day before he gave up. There's a surveillance photo in the file. It shows him standing on the porch with the infant in his arms. Pretty dramatic stuff, since his wife was dead inside the cabin."

Ray jerked in surprise. "What happened to her?"

"Coroner's report says she bled to death. There was a complication with the birth."

"Jesus. No wonder he's writin' hate mail. When'd he get released?"

"He didn't serve any time. The information was bad or he was expecting them. Either way, while holding them off on the warrant was an illegal act, given the mess as a whole, he walked."

"Ya know writin' letters and keepin' guns isn't a crime."

"I had heard rumors, Detective." Welsh responded.

"I can't bust him on intent."

"No one wants you to make an arrest. They just need someone outside the Federal system to go in, take a look around and come back. Report your findings. If Wilkes is still just writing letters and being pissed, then fine. But, apparently some of his more recent work is suggesting he might have other plans."

"You got his letters?"

"There's a few in the file. They didn't send everything but they sent enough to show the progression. Take the morning, read up and see if you want to go. I'm not ordering you out on this one since you'll have minimum back up out there. Just take a look and make a decision." He handed Kowalski a thick file. Ray took it and started to leave. He hesitated at the door.

"Do I seem like a woodsy guy to you, Lieutenant?" He asked.

"No, but you have been hanging out with the Mountie. I was hoping something rubbed off on you. Seriously, Ray, you're experienced with undercover. This is more or less a favor for someone upstairs and it'll look good on your record. You don't have to be Daniel Boone to spend a couple of days in the woods."

"Why'd they call us? There's gotta be a dozen other..."

Welsh held up his hand to interrupt.

"Am I J. Edgar Hoover? They had t'call somebody. In the interest of inter-agency cooperation, I'm offering you the job. Take the file, look it over and let me know before noon."

He thought about saluting but figured Welsh wasn't in the mood for sarcasm. He returned to his desk and flipped open the file.

The first thing he found was a photo of Richard Wilkes with his three children. He had two sons named Ezra and Elijah and a girl named Sara. The girl was the infant he carried out of his cabin on the day he surrendered to the FBI. Wilkes never remarried.

Wilkes was an only child, born in Richmond, Virginia. He lived there until he moved to Illinois to attend Northwestern University, managing a dual degree in psychology and chemistry. There were a couple of reports from campus security. Once he was caught breaking into the Chemistry Lab, apparently to make time with his girlfriend, Rebecca Childs.

Ray had to laugh at that. Only a science nerd would get turned on in a Chemistry Lab.

The second report involved several students who held a peaceful demonstration in the cafeteria, protesting the use of veal. They were successful but Ray suspected that had more to do with the cost of veal than the demonstration.

Nothing significant turned up in Wilkes' file again until August 1978. The FBI started considering him a suspect in a May bombing at Northwestern University. Wilkes worked at the school as a teaching assistant but made no secret of his disgust with the school's administration. The bomb was directed at one of the professors but injured a campus cop instead. The Feds dismissed him as a leading suspect but he remained in their permanent files.

The following year a second bomb exploded injuring a professor at Northwestern. Attention turned back to Wilkes and his wife, Rebecca. Again, the Feds relegated them to secondary suspects. However, a few months after the bombing, they arrested both and kept them in custody for 48 hours before releasing them.

By the time a third bomb exploded in the home of the president of United Airlines, Wilkes had taken his wife and two small sons and moved back to Virginia. They moved into the Blue Ridge Mountains where Wilkes kept a cabin. One of the reports described them as disgusted with civilization and the current government.

Ray sat back. Until the mention of the United Airlines president, it hadn't clicked for him. But the Feds were investigating Richard Wilkes as possibly being "the Unabomber".

Ray dove back in the file. The next group of reports described the attempt to serve a search warrant in late June of 1980. The Feds were under a lot of pressure to stop the bombings. They were going back over all the suspects. No one anticipated Wilkes' vehement reaction.

When Wilkes surrendered, the search discovered nothing illegal or even questionable. Rebecca Wilkes died for nothing more than the pride of her husband. The FBI arrested him for defying the court issued warrant and Richard spent two nights in jail. The charges were dropped by mutual agreement of all parties and he was released to care for his two young sons and his infant daughter.

Despite the fact that Ted Kaczynski was arrested in 1996 and was now known to be the real "Unabomber", the FBI never completely cleared Wilkes. There was still the chance that Kaczynski did not send all of the mail bombs.

Back in 1992, Wilkes left his Virginia home and made a new one near the Shawnee National Forest. Other than his letter writing there was nothing significant in his file. He home taught his children. He raised vegetables. And he hunted.

His letters expressed a sincere hatred for everyone he wrote to. He never actually made a threat. He wrote things like "if it wasn't illegal, I'd see you permanently removed from society." Ray figured the recipient of a comment like that would see it as a threat but legally, there was nothing there.

Ray finished the file by 11:30. His lover and partner, Constable Benton Fraser was in Canada for a week attending some leadership seminar. Ray didn't have anything better to do.

The middle child, Elijah, had fallen from the roof of the Wilkes' cabin and broke his leg. Ray needed to approach Richard Wilkes for a job. He was known to hire a handyman sometimes and this was a good opening.

The next day Ray met with Special Agent Carol Lewis. She briefed him while they drove towards the Shawnee National Forest.

She planned to drop him in a nearby town where the FBI left a jeep for him. He could drive the rest of the way on his own.

"Your story is that you're a drifter. Your name is Ray Henry. You just need a few days work. Jake down at the Feed and Tack suggested that you talk to Richard Wilkes."

"Ole Jake gonna back me up if they check?"

"You're going in for three days, Detective. The Wilkes family visits the local town about three times a year and they were there last month. There's no reason to think they'll check. They'll recognize Jake's name though."

"How do I contact you?"

"You won't. We could send a radio in with you but there's the obvious risk that it might be found. In this case, you are a stranger moving into someone's home. Even if Wilkes isn't suspicious, it's likely he'll be careful. We'd like you to go in and come back. If anything starts to look funny and you want to leave, then leave. This is a long shot at best. No one actually expects you to find anything."

"Someone must or why would ya bother?"

"This is strictly a follow-up to the original investigation. It's only been made more complicated by the events in 1980."

"But, isn't the guy in charge, the same guy that led the raid on Wilkes' property?"

"Yes, that's right, Assistant Director Colby is my direct superior."

"I'd figure with all the crap he must've took from that, he'd be itchin' t'nail Wilkes for somethin'. "

"It's safe to say he would not be disappointed if you found something."

"I'll bet he's got a hard on for this guy like nothin' else." Ray stated, then flushed. "Sorry."

"It's all right, Detective, I've heard the expression before."

After a few minutes of riding quietly, Ray slipped off his seatbelt and dragged his backpack to the front.

"Ya got a map or anything?" He asked.

"There's a bag in the trunk with a few essentials. A couple of paperbacks, a small first aid kit, matches. Things you would likely find on a drifter. There's also a map of the area and a detailed list of instructions for reaching the Wilkes' cabin."

"In Jake's handwriting?" Kowalski asked, tossing his bag back since the additional items were out of reach. Lewis glanced at him and saw that he was teasing her about the map. She smiled before returning her eyes to the road.

She dropped him off in a small town. Ray grabbed lunch at a diner. He found the old beat-up red jeep, the color faded almost to rust.

He drove to the next town and started looking at his directions. The Wilkes' cabin was well outside the city limits. Ray could take routes through the Shawnee for awhile but the last 15 miles would be dirt trails and natural markers.

About two miles from his destination, Ray encountered Sara Wilkes, a slim, seventeen-year-old with a hearty, wholesome face. She watched him warily as he climbed out of the old jeep and stretched. She was dressed in blue jeans that probably started out as part of a brother's wardrobe and a loose flannel shirt. Her short brown hair was pulled away from her face by a red piece of cloth. She was holding a shotgun.

"My name's Ray. I'm lookin' for Richard Wilkes." Kowalski said.

"What for?" She asked, pulling the weapon up just short of making it a threat.

"I'm just lookin' for a couple days work. Heard Mr. Wilkes hires sometimes."

"Well, yer right about that. And my brother broke his leg a few days ago. With winter comin', I know there's work enough." Sara had a nice, soft drawl. Her voice reminded Ray of The Waltons on television.

"Well then, could ya take me t'meet him?" Ray asked, giving her one of his best grins. She almost smiled back before she caught herself.

"Yeah, okay, you'll have t'leave the jeep. Trails are too narrow t'drive up t'the cabin. Our truck is over there a bit." She pointed towards some denser trees.

"What're you doin' out here?" Ray asked.

"Takin' a walk. Winters' coming and I won't have many more chances."

Sara led him down a narrow walking path. A good sized medium house sat at the end of the trail. It was obviously built by hand. There was no porch, just a couple of steps to the front door. The windows were narrow and high on the building. They let in light but would be impossible for anyone to look into.

Sara opened the door and led him inside. Sitting in a faded gold recliner was a good-looking eighteen-year-old with brown hair and green eyes. Ray recognized him from his picture and the plaster cast on his leg confirmed he was Elijah Wilkes. The boy set the paperback book in his hand to one side.

"Who're you?" He asked, bluntly.

"Ray Henry. I'm lookin' fer some work." Ray answered, shaking the boy's hand.

"Sara, Dad's out back with Ezra. Go on an' get him." Elijah shared his sister's drawl.

She glared at her brother before following his order. Ray almost smiled thinking about what his pretend sister, Francesca Vecchio, would do if he ordered her around like that.

Glancing around, he found himself standing in one large, open space. The living room contained a couple of ragged chairs, a couch and an iron coffee table. That room connected with the dining room and that connected with the kitchen.

"What happened to yer leg?" Ray asked, trying to be sociable.

"Fell off the roof when I was patchin' it. Shouldn't been up there in the rain."

Richard Wilkes and his oldest son entered the cabin from the back. Wilkes, Sr. was forty-two with a blond military cut hairstyle. He was all muscle compacted into a five foot, seven inch body. His son looked like him except the twenty-year-old stood a couple of inches taller. Apparently the younger children favored their mother.

"Richard Wilkes." The older man held out his hand with a friendly smile.

"Ray Henry. I'm sorry t'drop in like this."

"No, no, not a problem. We don' get much company. Sara says yer lookin' for some handyman work."

"Yeah. I'm only gonna be around a few days but I need some travelin' money."

"How'd you know t'come here?"

"Jake down at the Feed 'n Tack said you might need some help. Said your boy got hurt the other day."

Wilkes cocked his head. He glanced at both of his sons then back to Ray sizing him up from head to toe. "Yer kinduh skinny."

"That's true." Ray said. "But I'm not scrawny an' I'll work."

"Well, you've met Sara and Elijah, this is my oldest son, Ezra." The younger man reached out his hand and Ray shook it.

"Nice t'meet ya." Ezra said, though his voice betrayed a hardness.

"With Eli hurt, I could use some help with finishin' up the roof. And there's some repairs to the well I'd like to get done before the first snow. Come on out an' we'll talk specifics."

Ray followed Wilkes through the house. On the back wall of the livingroom was an entryway leading into a narrow hall that provided space for three closed doors. Ray assumed those must be bedrooms. Through the hall was another door that opened on a small storage area and past that was the back door leading outside.

Ray smelled the pine around him in the cool breeze of late afternoon. It was beautiful out here. Everything was browning and most of the trees were bare for the coming winter. The air smelled clean and cold. His feet crunched against fallen leaves and he wondered when they would see their first snow.

Wilkes pointed out the well, the shed where they skinned and prepared larger game, a large barn that housed a cow and a few chickens, a barren garden and an outhouse.

"You know anything about skinnin'?" Wilkes asked.

"No, I don't." Ray shrugged, looking at him curiously. "I'm a good mechanic an' a fair handyman but I'm no hunter."

"Sorry, Ezra." Wilkes said with a grin at his son. He turned back to Ray. "Elijah usually takes care uh game. I'm sure Ezra was just hopin' t'get outta of it since his brother is hurt." Ezra's expression remained stiff and still.

Wilkes spent the next half hour going over the jobs that needed completion. He told Ray how much he could pay and that he couldn't afford more than two days.

"If that all works for ya. You're welcome t'start."

"Good. Greatness." Kowalski answered.

Half an hour later, Ray found himself on the roof of the cabin, finishing up the job that Elijah started. Ezra climbed up with him. He gave him instruction, tools and supplies and climbed back down.

The patching was hard work. The smell of tarpaper made him nauseous. And scrambling from one end to the other without losing his balance was harder than it looked. When Wilkes called to him a couple of hours later, Ray was surprised and relieved.

Night came fast. By the time Ray had climbed down, washed up at the well and drank about a gallon of water, the sun was gone. The sky sparkled bright with stars. A half moon provided a soft light over the forest. Ezra called him in for dinner.

Sara smiled at him when he hesitated at the entryway from the hall and waved him to a chair at the long rough-wood table. Richard and Ezra looked a lot like Ray. They were tired, their clothes were dirty and sweaty and they were ravenous. Ezra had spent the last couple of hours splitting wood and stacking it by the side of the house. Richard spent that time in the barn.

The meal consisted of stew and baking powder biscuits with water and iced tea to drink. Kowalski tried the meat and grimaced. He didn't know what it was but the strange, untamed flavor made him afraid to ask. He skipped around in his bowl, sticking to the potatoes and carrots and filling up on the biscuits.

After dinner, Sara started clearing away the dinner dishes. The men discussed their upcoming hunting trip. Elijah wanted to go with them but his father was adamant.

"No way you can be quiet haulin' that cast around. Ya can't get in the tree stands. If you'd been careful instead uh careless, you'd be goin'."

Elijah looked down at the table. Ray listened to them for a few minutes before he decided to help Sara instead. This earned him an amused smirk from Wilkes and outright surprise from his children.

"You can rinse and dry." Sara said, handing him a terry cloth towel. She washed the dishes in water that she boiled on their propane stove and wearing thick rubber gloves to keep from burning her hands. She handed a pair to Ray so he could rinse the dishes in more boiled water treated with bleach.

"Daddy says we have to be extra careful of germs since you never know what might be getting dumped in the water," she explained.

He nodded without commitment while he dried and stacked until the last of the chore was done.

"You been travelin' long?" Sara asked.

"Nah, not really. A few months. Decided I better see the country before I got too old."

"You're near Ezra's age, aren't you?"

"Keep talkin' like that an' I'll have t'take ya with me when I go," Ray answered with a smile. "I'm probably fifteen years older than he is."

"Wow. I didn't think you were that old."

"I think I'm takin' back my invitation," he frowned at her playfully. She laughed at him.

"So, what about you? Have ya done much travelling?" he asked.

"Not yet. But, I'll be starting college next year. I've already passed the GED exam and started applying. Daddy insists that I wait 'til I'm eighteen before I leave home but I'm getting everything ready."

"GED? You don't go to high school?"

"No. Daddy taught us all at home. He's kept records on us since we were little."

"A friend of mine was home-schooled by his grandparents. He's the smartest person I know."

After the dishes were done and the kitchen was clean, the family moved into the living room.

Ray and Ezra shared the couch. Elijah returned to the gold recliner. Sara dragged a chair out from the dining room table and Richard settled in a wide rust colored chair making Ray think immediately of Archie Bunker. He would bet that no one sat in that chair except Richard Wilkes. He took a book from beneath the couch and started reading out loud without any announcement. Ray recognized "To Kill a Mockingbird". Wilkes had a clear, engaging voice and Ray found himself enthralled by the story.

Sometime later, he jerked awake in surprise. He looked into the grinning face of Sara Wilkes.

"You were snoring." She said with a laugh.

"Jeez, I'm sorry." Ray pushed himself up and tried to wake.

"Hard work for a city boy." She teased. "I'll show ya where you can stay."

She had changed into a floor length cotton nightgown. No frills, no lace. She looked like an ad for hospital wear. Elijah was no longer in view and Ray figured he must have gone to bed. Wilkes emptied a cup into the steel sink. Ezra stood near him leaning against the stove.

Ray was surprised to find himself led into the kitchen. He wondered if he was supposed to bed down on the floor. Sara pulled a rug back revealing a trapdoor. She lifted the handle and propped it open.

"Follow me," she said, "and watch your step." She turned around and started down a wood ladder.

"I'll be right there, Sara. I gotta go...outside." She giggled at his discretion.

"Take the lamp by the back door? Can you light it?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Ray found a hurricane lamp that was probably set there for this purpose. He popped the glass lid off and using matches from his pocket, he lit the wick. He took his time finding the outhouse. He wanted to look around the grounds first. The cabin and land showed nothing sinister with their small vegetable garden and stacks of freshly cut wood.

He shivered in the cold, rubbing his arms absently and wishing he remembered to wear his jacket. The darkness felt ominously alive with the buzz of insects and the small shuffling noises of night creatures moving in the trees.

After taking care of business, no easy task while sharing space with the glowing lamp, he returned to the cabin. He blew the light out and left it where he found it. Richard and Ezra were still standing near the sink talking in low tones. They stopped when he appeared.

"G'night, Ray," Wilkes said with Ezra echoing him. Ray nodded politely before climbing down the ladder.

The cellar had a six and a half foot ceiling. Canned and jarred goods filled several shelves. The floor was cold, packed dirt. Off to one side, behind the ladder was a double bed piled high with blankets and two pillows. There was a kerosene lamp on top of the bedside table.

"You sleep down here. You don't mind small spaces, do ya?" Sara asked as she lit the camping light.

"Hate 'em," Ray answered, honestly. She cocked her head to one side and Kowalski was reminded of Fraser's wolf. "I'll be fine," he said. "It's kinduh cold down here."

"The blankets'll keep ya warm. Ya might wanna keep your socks on."

"You get a lotta guests down here?"

"Some. Handymen like you once in a while. Mostly, Daddy uses this for storin' vegetables and fruit and for us kids, sometimes."

"For you kids?"

"You know when we get in trouble. He swats us an' sends us down here. Mostly just a day or two."

"He leaves ya down here?" Ray heard the surprise in his voice. He tried to tamp down his reaction but he knew she heard the disapproval.

"We come up for bathroom breaks, of course. An' it's not like he'd starve us or anything."

"What would ya do down here?"

"When I was real little, I'd cry an' sleep a lot. When I got older, I'd try to think about the wrong I did."

"Ya didn't read or anything?"

"Oh no, we couldn't have books or paper or toys. It was punishment."

"Sounds scary."

"It was when I was little. But not now. And being older I don' get in trouble so much. Ezra and Eli are too old for punishment." She pointed towards the nightstand. "Your stuff is layin' over there."

"Thanks, Sara," Ray said.

When she disappeared up the ladder, then closed the door behind her, Ray shivered. He truly hated small spaces. Looking around, he couldn't imagine leaving a child here. For awhile that day he thought he landed on Walton's Mountain but Ray would bet that Daddy Walton never locked any of his children in the cellar.

He searched the cellar from top to bottom looking for anything suspicious. All he found was that the Wilkes family had a penchant for canning and jarring perishables. He stripped down to his bare essentials and crawled into bed.

Tomorrow he would search the barn and the storage shed. He wanted to take a peek inside the bedrooms too.

Ray woke up sore from his time on the roof and not particularly rested. Sleeping in a strange place, in a cellar, and a small room repelled him. The only positive thing he could think of was that when he had dreamed, he dreamed of Fraser. He woke up aroused and missing his partner.

A few moments later he heard footsteps on the ceiling above him. He imagined that Sara was already awake and preparing breakfast for her family. Ray climbed out of bed and dressed in blue jeans and a dark blue Henley topped by one of Fraser's blue and red flannel shirts.

"I look like him," he said out loud when he finished dressing. Okay, he admitted, no way was he going to look like his wide shouldered solidly built Mountie. But dressed this way, he felt like him.

He climbed up the ladder, knocked twice and pushed open the lid. Sara was watching for him with a cup of coffee in her hand. He pulled himself out of the cellar, glad for his own agility.

"Mornin', Ray." She said and handed him the cup. She looked serious.

"Morning. Thanks. No one else up yet?" He reached in his pocket, pulling out a bag of candy and dropping several pieces into the cup. Sara watched him curiously but didn't comment. She shook her head when he offered the bag to her.

"Everyone's up. Daddy and the boys are in the barn. We'll have breakfast in about half an hour."

"Did I oversleep?"

"We're always up around dawn but don't worry about it. Daddy says you couldn't start on the roof again 'til day light anyway."

"I guess I should head out an' find them then."

"Good idea." She reached for his cup. He wanted to keep it. The couple of sips he had weren't enough. But he also needed to use the outhouse. He decided more coffee would be coming with breakfast so he handed it over to her.

Ray went out the back. Two of the three doors were open so he took a quick look inside each. Sara's room was plain with the exception of a few dolls sitting on a shelf above her bed which was covered by a lacy yellow bedspread. She had a homemade dresser and nightstand with some nice flower carvings. A propane lamp sat on the nightstand with a paperback emblazoned with "Passionate Embrace" in gold letters.

Richard Wilkes' bedroom was about the same size as Sara's. He had a double bed with a heavy red covering, two dressers and a nightstand. Still, nothing out of the ordinary. The book by his bed was "Communion". If Ray remembered correctly, it described an alien abduction.

Not wanting to get caught searching the bedrooms and since he doubted they would keep anything suspicious inside the house, Ray made a quick getaway. Besides, the outhouse was starting to sound almost appealing.

He finished up in there and headed out to the barn. Ray looked in surprise when he opened the door to find the entire Wilkes family. They were obviously waiting for him.

Richard Wilkes stood in the middle of the barn. Elijah stood on crutches a few feet to one side. Ezra was near him leaning against a tractor. Behind the boys was a cow with an actual cowbell on her neck. Sara stood close to the door.

"Mornin', Ray," Wilkes said.

"Good morning," Kowalski answered, suddenly on alert.

"We have a problem, Ray. We need t'talk about it."

"Okay."

"Ezra drove into town today. I needed him to double-check some information that he got when he was in town a couple weeks ago."

Ray didn't comment as wariness turned to concern.

"Ya see, we don' spend much time with the people in town. But when we need supplies one uh the people we talk to is Jake Tanner at the Feed 'n Tack. The problem is Jake's partner told Ezra that Jake was killed in a car accident. That has to be almost a month ago now."

Ray cursed the Feds in his mind and shifted on his feet. They gave him a dead guy for a cover story.

"Now, how d'ya suppose he told ya t'come up here for work?"

"Dream?" Ray said and laughed nervously. The family did not join in.

There was no way out of this. Ray knew it. If the Feds had done their homework, he could have pulled off the assignment with no problem. But they didn't. They blew it. Ray felt no obligation to try and salvage what couldn't be saved.

"You're right. I don' know Jake. I'm not what I said. I, uh, heard about you through some old newspapers and I just wanted to come up and see what you were like."

"I don't understand," Wilkes said.

"I heard about the FBI's raid back in '80. What happened to your wife. And I thought you guys must know how fucked up...sorry Sara...screwed up the government is. I just thought I'd get t' know ya a little. Add ya to a book I'm writing."

"And you didn't just tell us this because..."

"Cuz, I figured you'd throw me out. Sorry I lied. I'll grab my pack an' head out."

Almost like a cold breeze, Ray felt the change in the atmosphere. Wilkes' face twisted from the kindly homesteader to rage. Ezra straightened up. Elijah shifted away from his father.

"That was your chance t'tell the truth. I know yer a cop. Federal, local, don' matter. We know what you're here for."

"Believe what ya want. I'm outta here." Ray turned around planning to get out of there as fast as possible. He didn't have a gun with him. He didn't have a radio. He wouldn't be missed for two more days.

"I don' think so."

Wilkes and Ezra circled him. Sara took refuge by the cow while Elijah stayed out of the way. Ray fended them off at first. He was a boxer and he was fit. He dodged and ducked and landed several solid punches before his shoulder went numb. The numbness came from a serious blow delivered by Ezra Wilkes. He spun away from the younger man only to be tripped by Eli when he slammed a crutch into the back of his legs. It didn't take long after that. A few well-placed punches and Ray hit the ground like a downhill freight train.

Lying on his stomach, he tried to pull his knees under himself. While he struggled to keep from passing out, Richard Wilkes knelt beside him. He put one hand on Ray's back and his lips against Ray's ear.

"I should send you back now but I'm not going to."

The small part of Kowalski's mind that was still functioning wondered why. A hard kick to his hip shook that question away and tipped him over to his side. He kept trying to get up, to get away. He was scared now and fairly sure that the family would beat him to death.

They didn't. Ezra moved in and shoved him back on his stomach. He put a booted foot on his back, making it hard to breathe. Tired of his useless effort to escape and feeling his injuries, Ray welcomed the blackout that followed.

Ray woke up back in the cellar. Confusion almost gave way to panic as he tried to move and found that he couldn't. His hands and feet had no feeling in them and his body was stretched and taut. He knew if he could touch his chest, he'd feel every rib sticking out above a concave stomach. As his memory cleared, Ray took several breaths to calm himself.

Cold seeped through him, leeching his strength, making it hard to think. Shivering was painful. He remembered Fraser telling him that shivering was a good thing. When the person stopped shivering, it was time to worry. Fraser explained why too but he hadn't listened. Right now he didn't care, he wanted to stop.

"God, Frase, I wish you were here," he whispered into the dark.

He couldn't move enough to really see but the air moved over his body. The blankets and pillows that kept him warm the night before were gone.

Ray hovered between unconscious and awake. With little light except whatever seeped in from the kitchen above, he had no way of marking time.

At some point, Richard Wilkes arrived. Ray didn't hear him come down the ladder. He opened his eyes and the older man was standing above him.

"What's this? Early settler rack? You been reading about Salem or somethin'?" Ray asked, barely recognizing the scratched sound.

"I don' like the sound of yer voice. I don't want ya to talk."

"You gotta let me go, Wilkes. The kids'll be with you on the kidnapping an' assault charges."

"Don' talk." He repeated. Ray noticed his hands were wandering. They were hovering against the fly to his jeans. "You have to relieve yourself."

"Wh-what?"

"I've come to help you." The sound of the zipper was loud. Then a hand was on him but it didn't feel like skin, it felt like rubber. He couldn't see but his mind conjured a picture of the bright yellow gloves he wore to wash dishes the night before.

"Hey!" Ray said, trying to shift away automatically.

"Shsh. You can go now or ya can piss yerself later. Choose." He felt the cold metal container beneath him. This was not usually a problem for him. Some guys got anxious and had trouble but Ray wasn't one of them. This, though, was perverse.

Wilkes applied some pressure and then he pressed on his belly. That did the trick. Ray cringed at the sound of urine hitting metal.

"Feel better?" Wilkes asked as he zipped the jeans back up. Ray heard the sound of rubber snapping as the older man took off his gloves.

"Let me outta here."

"I told you not t'talk."

Wilkes moved out of his sight. Ray heard a squeak and the tension on his already taut muscles increased. He sucked air in painfully and gritted his teeth.

Wilkes left him like that. A slight squeak later and some of the tension released. Whatever they were using to keep him stretched out like that wasn't meant for the job.

Ray couldn't figure out what Wilkes wanted. If he wanted Ray dead then Ray should be dead by now. Keeping him tied up like this was unnecessary.

He cursed the FBI again. Then he wondered if Lewis would come looking after two days or would she assume he needed more time. The whole assignment was looking pretty haphazard at the moment. Would Lewis know his lateness was a sign of trouble?

Fraser's trip to Ottawa ended in four days. Fraser would come looking. He would start by visiting Lieutenant Welsh, get the details on the assignment and then come looking. Tied up and bruised up, Ray knew that four days was too long.

He examined his options. He hoped Wilkes would respond to the threat to his children. Wilkes needed to realize that the whole family would go to prison for this. Sara might not make prison because of her age but kidnapping and assaulting a police officer is serious business. If they murdered him, the death penalty might come into play.

But Wilkes hadn't responded the way Ray expected. Apparently, anger and outrage clouded his judgement overshadowing the need to protect them. Ray needed to make the point clearer.

Kowalski woke up later to a dull light from above the ladder. He didn't remember falling asleep. The light went away as Wilkes climbed down slowly. He didn't speak at all as his hands found Ray's zipper.

"It's okay, I don't gotta go," Ray lied. Frankly, he'd rather lie in his own urine than have that creep touching him.

"It's been twelve hours," Wilkes answered. He opened the jeans slowly. Ray had the sudden, uncomfortable idea that he was prolonging this.

Wilkes wrapped a rough, rubber covered hand around him. He stroked up and down a couple of times.

"Stop right there," Ray said, trying to sound tough despite his dry throat. He was scared.

The cold metal container pressed under him again. Wilkes fingered the soft sacs beneath his penis.

"Stop!" Ray repeated.

"I've told you an' told you," Wilkes said. He put a naked hand over Ray's mouth. Ray tried to shake him off but it was no use. They were both surprised when he urinated.

'Should've told him I piss when I'm scared', Ray thought wildly, remembering a fateful trip to the bank when he was a boy.

The coldness of the metal went away. Wilkes wiped his hand on the jeans. He kept his other hand over Ray's mouth while he fondled him for several minutes. Ray closed his eyes, enduring the touch, unable to stop him. The rubber glove was coarse, yanking at the delicate skin. He held his breath at the pain. When Wilkes finally stopped, Ray exhaled the air he was holding. Wilkes tucked him back in and zipped him back up. He took his hand off his mouth.

"You bastard," Ray said, rage glinting in his blue eyes.

"What do I have t'do t'make you shut up?"

"What the fuck do you want? I'm a cop. People know I'm here. What're ya gettin' outta this?"

"Revenge."

"For what? You don' even know me."

"For Rebecca. For my motherless children. Your kind took everything and now they come back for more. I won't have it."

"You're makin' it worse. The boys'll go t'prison. Sara might too. Is that what you want?"

"It's already too late. We'll see it through now."

"They'll look for me. I'm a cop."

"They'll look, they won't find. No body, no crime."

Wilkes left the cellar. Ray sucked in a shaky breath when the door slammed above him. He wanted to vomit. He wanted a shower and a metal brush to scrub his body clean.

Fraser entered the squad room dressed in his brown uniform. He nodded at Detectives Huey and Dewey as they passed him. Francesca cooed a hello when he walked by her.

Fraser glanced towards Ray's desk hoping to see him there. He knew it was unlikely. He had been left a detailed written message as to Ray's current assignment but since he was home two days early, he imagined his partner might finish early as well.

He sighed at the empty desk. He missed his Ray. The flight from Ottawa had been filled with erotic thoughts of his partner. He wanted to share them. He wanted to do some of them.

Lieutenant Welsh knocked on the glass inside his door to gain Fraser's attention. When the Mountie looked up, he motioned for him to come inside.

"Sir?" Fraser said, assuming parade rest.

"Fraser, you need to hear this. Agent Lewis, I'm putting you on speaker. Vecchio's partner just walked in." Welsh pressed the speaker button on his phone.

"Lieutenant, I don't want to alarm you. Detective Vecchio is not due to check in until the day after tomorrow."

"But, you're calling today. There must be a reason."

"Yes, well, I've come upon some personal information regarding the subject of Vecchio's assignment. It probably won't have any effect unless Vecchio's cover is found out. We certainly don't expect that to happen."

Fraser stared at the phone. His body remained still but his heart was beating faster.

"Would you care to be more specific? That's my detective out there." Welsh said.

"You read the file on Richard Wilkes, Lieutenant?"

"I read the highlights."

"Then you are aware of the circumstances surrounding the death of his wife."

"She died in childbirth. Wilkes was busy trying to keep you guys off his property and he let her bleed to death."

"That is how the file read, but it seems that isn't entirely accurate."

"All right. What is accurate?"

Fraser was having a difficult time restraining himself. He wanted to scream into the phone.

"Rebecca Wilkes was sexually assaulted while in FBI custody a few months prior to her death."

Welsh and Fraser exchanged confused looks.

"How is that possible?"

"The agent says she provoked him but it doesn't matter of course, he admits that it was rape. He had already had several run-ins with her since the bombings began in '78. And he's known for his arrogance. We've just started talking to some of the others working that investigation but I have two separate accounts saying that the agent was convinced he could make Rebecca implicate her husband."

"No one knew?" Fraser asked, no longer able to stay quiet.

"She didn't tell anyone. When the team went in to serve the search warrant, the agent who assaulted her was in charge."

"This was the day that Rebecca Wilkes died?" Welsh clarified.

"That's right. Apparently, Wilkes was aware of this agent and his attack on Rebecca so he refused them entry to the property. Wilkes always claimed that he was protecting his wife but he refused to explain himself. Consequently, the agent was never brought up on charges."

"How is this coming to light now, Agent Lewis?"

They both heard her sigh over the speaker.

"AD Colby died last night. He had a heart attack at his desk. In going through his effects, we found some personal records regarding the raid on the Wilkes property as well as other things. It looks like he initially intended to admit everything but at some point he changed his mind."

"So Colby raped Rebecca Wilkes," Welsh said.

"Yes."

"If Mr. Wilkes discovers Ray's cover...," Fraser began.

"It might push him over the edge."

"You need to bring my detective out immediately. This assignment is illegal," Welsh demanded.

"Actually, it's not, Lieutenant. We've been doing follow-ups on several suspects since Kaczynski's arrest. Wilkes is just one in a list of people. And his letter writing has focused a lot of attention on him. But I do agree that this places the situation in a new light and it would be best to bring Detective Vecchio out. However, we can't just walk in and tell Wilkes we're sorry. He'd have a lawsuit big enough to wipe out the State of Illinois."

"I don't care."

"And whatever Colby was, his family doesn't deserve to go through knowing all of this. We're not publicizing." Her tone clearly ended all possibility of argument.

"Then what do you suggest?"

"I thought one of your people could go get him. Someone Vecchio would recognize. Someone who could lure him away without making a fuss."

Welsh looked at Fraser. Ben nodded.

"All right, we have someone. You'll be close if they need backup?"

"Yes, Lieutenant. We'll be a radio call away."

The next two days passed in much the same way as the first twenty-four hours. The only real difference was Ray. He was getting weak from no food or water. The cold in the cellar took root in his muscles and joints. Everything hurt.

Wilkes decided to pay him two more visits. The first one was a silent affair. He made no pretense. Slamming one hand over Ray's mouth, he shoved the other inside the jeans. He was deliberately rough and the harsh surface of the glove rubbed the skin raw.

During the assault, panicked and revolted, Ray threw himself into escape while Wilkes molested him. Something tore in his calf. When he screamed, Wilkes backed away, shocked. He stared at the agonized expression on his captive's face for a few seconds before fleeing up the stairs.

Jesus. God. Fraser.

The next time the cellar opened, Ray was trembling before Wilkes was down the ladder. 'Just like Pavlov's dog,' he thought, 'the cellar squeaks and I shake.'

"Do you think it was like this for her?" Wilkes asked. He put his hands behind his back and looked down at his captive.

"Who?' Ray asked. His voice sounded hoarse and weak.

"She was beautiful and joyful. She had a temper like a mad dog. But she was small. Do you think she felt like you do?"

"What the fuck are you talkin' about?"

"Don't talk," Wilkes ordered.

"Don't do this." It sounded like begging and he hated himself for it.

"Shsh."

"Please don't."

The yellow glove appeared from behind his back like a perverse magic trick. Ray's breath caught at the ugly snapping sound as it covered Wilkes hand. A bare callused palm that smelled like hydraulic oil, dirt and hay descended over his mouth. Ray couldn't struggle anymore. His left leg felt like shredded glass. His shoulders were nearly dislocated. He hadn't felt his hands or feet in days.

Ray winced when Wilkes started. He was already sore and bruised. The older man stayed longer than before, was harder than before. With his skin already raw from the previous visits, Ray had to hold his breath to keep from crying out. This time when Wilkes finished, he bent close over Ray's face. He kept his hand over the Detective's mouth.

"Yer lucky I'm not a fag." He whispered. With a hard-edged smile, Wilkes took his hand away and climbed out of the cellar.

Ray forced his mind away from the assault and into something comforting, something to ease his trembling and soothe some of the pain. He imagined his dark-haired Mountie lying beside him, eyes closed, breath coming softly between slightly parted lips. He could see him waking, his hair tousled and curly and damp from sleep. He could almost feel the long morning kiss with that warm, thick tongue searching endlessly against his own. How many mornings had that first kiss nearly kept them in bed or made them late for work? He pictured that big, gorgeous body rising and slipping into boxers. Then the aroma of coffee would be there, luring him to the dining table where his lover sat, sipping tea and reading the newspaper.

The memory helped and hurt at the same time. "I miss you, Frase," Ray said out loud, suddenly realizing he might never see his lover again. He squeezed his fists in frustration and despair. "God, I'm scared."

That night, Sara descended the cellar steps. He was so relieved that it wasn't her father, he almost cried. She let him suck on a wet washcloth and his throat hurt and rejoiced at the same time. She used the same cloth to clean the dirt from his face. Then she used her body to keep him warm.

The next morning, Sara was sitting in a chair beside him. A wool blanket covered him and he reveled in the warmth. The tension on the ropes had been loosened as well. He almost wanted to cry again, thankful for any relief, any kindness.

"It's all right," she whispered.

"Thanks for the blanket." The quiver in his voice surprised him.

"Daddy'll be back soon. Ya want some water before he does?"

"Yeah," Ray answered, knowing if he had any saliva left, he'd be drooling.

She placed a glass sideways against his chest and fed a straw to his lips. He drank greedily and she had to pull it away to make him slow down. She fed him the liquid in short drinks over half an hour or so.

They both jumped when the cellar door banged open. Sara snatched the cup away and tossed it in the corner. She backed up so her legs were pressed against the bed.

Richard Wilkes jumped from the middle of the ladder to the floor. The fury in his eyes brought a whimper from his daughter. Ray couldn't see him around her body but he stiffened as his fear mingled with hers.

Wilkes grabbed her arm at the bicep and flung her away from the bed so she landed with a clatter against a shelf of canned goods. She cried out as she bounced forward to fall on her knees.

"Stop it!" Ray screamed, struggling furiously. With the loosened pulley he had more freedom but only to twist in the ropes.

Wilkes dug cruel hands into Sara's head. He dragged her to her feet by the hair, then shoved her at the ladder. She was crying and apologizing. Her pleas only fueled his anger as he backhanded her. She screamed and slipped to the floor wrapping her hands over her head. "Stop it! Leave her alone!" Ray yelled again, still trying to get loose.

Planting his hands around her wrists, Wilkes yanked Sara up, slamming her into the ladder again. She scrambled up the steps, whimpering.

Ray started yelling obscenities, calling Wilkes everything he could think of, anything to turn his focus. Wilkes never looked back. Lying helplessly tied to the bed, Ray could only listen while Sara screamed and cried and begged from the floor upstairs. The sound of punching and slapping echoed through the cellar until finally silence came, followed by a soft sobbing. Eventually even that stopped.

When the house returned to muffled footsteps, doors opening or closing, creaky cupboards and quiet voices, Ray closed his eyes. Hands pulled tight into fists, he wanted to scream.

While his arms and legs were not drawn taut to the winch, Ray was still tied up. He tested the limit of his freedom and found he was no closer to escape. He stayed awake for a long time listening to the sounds of the house. Some time later the aroma of food drifted down to him. Concentrating on the smells, he thought he identified chicken and corn and bread. His stomach lectured him unmercifully.

Then finally, holding on to visions of his lover, he slipped into sleep.

Evening and Ezra Wilkes interrupted a sweet dream that Kowalski was having of his Mountie.

"What," he asked, the word sounding like a whimper in his head.

"I'm gonna untie you. Now, you can fight me if ya want. I'm shorter but I bet I got thirty pounds on ya an' I been eatin' regular." Ezra cut the ropes on his arms first. Ray held his breath to keep from groaning. His legs were freed next and this time he did moan.

"Your extra shirt is there on the floor. You'll wanna wear it. Come on up upstairs when yer ready. Daddy an' me'll be waitin'."

"I did somethin' t'my leg. I don' know if I can get up the ladder."

"I can come back down an' carry ya up but it won't give ya much dignity."

Ray pictured himself slung over the boy's shoulder. He decided he could make it on his own.

Discovering how painful circulation can be, it took a long time to stand up and get steady. The freedom felt good and comforting though. Despite the awful throbbing in his body, he felt his confidence coming back. He slipped on Fraser's flannel shirt and sighed.

With the thought of his lover and a breath for courage, Ray slowly dragged himself up the ladder. He kept his weight on the right leg and used the left for balance. When he reached the opening, Ezra and his father pulled him the rest of the way into the kitchen.

Ray blinked at the light from the hurricane lamps. He didn't see Sara but Elijah was waiting near the door leaning on his crutches. Ezra handed him his jean jacket.

Wilkes and Ezra were armed with hunting rifles. Eli couldn't carry a weapon and maneuver on his broken leg. They guided him out the door and down the path that led to their truck. Two miles of walking was almost more than he could do but he refused to tell them. If they were taking him to his death, he'd rather walk than be carried.

They reached the truck and Wilkes told him to climb in the back. Ray gave a brief thought to his missing jeep. If they were smart, they got rid of it somehow. That would be one less trace of his presence.

Ray tried to get himself in the truck but his leg twisted and he stumbled against the lowered tailgate. Ezra jumped in ahead of him and dragged him over the edge. Kowalski found himself lying face down on the cold, metal surface. Ezra hopped back out. His father replaced him.

"Keep your hands where I can see 'em an' stay the way you are," Wilkes told him.

Ezra climbed into the driver's seat. Elijah rode shotgun. They drove north, away from the cabin.

The ride was terrible. They weren't on paved streets and all the rocks, bumps and shrubs jostled Ray's prone body. He tried holding his head up but could only stay that way for short periods before his neck would tire. Wilkes refused to let him use his arms for cushioning. About an hour later, the truck stopped and Ray felt like he had been beaten all over again.

Wilkes shoved Ray out of the back of the truck. His leg couldn't support him and he fell flat. Ezra picked him up and held him up while Wilkes tied a cloth around his eyes. Ray panicked and fought against the blindfold but Ezra held him easily. Next they tied his hands behind his back. Ezra nearly had to carry him the rest of the journey to keep him upright and away from a hundred things he might trip over.

Finally, after a long walk, they stopped. Ray swallowed over a dry throat hoping the sound of his heart was silent to the rest of them. Ezra lowered him to the ground shifting him so his back and arms leaned against rough bark. His arms were freed, then pulled behind him and secured tight with nylon rope.

"This is murder," Ray growled out.

"So was my wife," Wilkes responded against his ear.

Ray did his best to get the boys' attention, to try and appeal to them but their father's hold was too strong. He listened until the sound of their footsteps disappeared.

His arms didn't want to move. But they had to. He started rubbing the rope against the tree. He knew his forearms were being scraped raw but he couldn't worry about that. He refused to be dinner for some hungry bear or coyote.

He worked steadily, stopping only when his muscles failed completely. Then he rested and started again. Determined to go home to Fraser, nothing else mattered. A couple of hours later, the rope snapped. He cried out in pain and relief and surprise as he pulled his arms back to his body.

Ray yanked the blindfold off. He squinted into the dark forest stopping himself from thinking past the task at hand. If he considered his situation, lost in the woods, miles from anything familiar or safe, he knew he'd panic. He knew nothing about wilderness survival. He couldn't find the North Star on a bet. He wouldn't know a wild blueberry from a round bug.

His arms were throbbing from scraping against the tree. He took off his jacket, then lifted the flannel shirt over his head. Finally he pulled off the blue Henley. He shivered in the cold while he checked his skin. His forearms were raw and scraped, but not bleeding. He replaced his layers, taking a moment to hug himself and replace some of the heat he lost.

Shifting on to his knees first, he tested himself before rising the rest of the way. His left leg did not want to cooperate but Ray managed to reach his feet. Slightly dizzy, he gave himself a few moments to adjust. His tenuous grip on balance was immediately bowled over by streaking gray fur. Ray covered his face and head in a panic, cursing that he had gotten free only to be mauled anyway.

'Sorry, Frase, I tried to get back to ya,' he thought while teeth and tongue played over his body.

A few moments later, Ray realized something strange. Whatever was eating him was being damn slow and gentle about it. He rolled over, hearing a familiar whine and getting a face full of tongue.

"Dief?" The half-wolf barked and continued licking his face thoroughly. Strong arms soon replaced Diefenbaker as he was drawn into a wide, hard chest.

Ray didn't need to open his eyes. He curled into the warmth and the safety and ignored the tears in his eyes. Fraser held him tight, rocking him, whispering to him, kissing him on the top of his head. Big, wide hands stroked his back and shoulders, caressing him into calm.

As the reality of Ben's presence started penetrating his mind and his fear started fading, Ray squirmed in his lover's arms. The grip on him slackened. He looked into gray-blue eyes and saw his own feelings reflected. He leaned up capturing soft lips against his own, sighing into the kiss.

"How'd ya find me?" he finally managed, scooting away so Ben could take off his backpack.

"I've been camped about half a kilometer from the Wilkes home since yesterday morning."

"How come?"

"My trip to Ottawa took less time than expected. When I went to speak with Leftenant Welsh, he and Special Agent Lewis asked me to bring you back." He rummaged around in the pack and found a bottle of water.

"How come?" Ray asked while he took the offered drink.

"Some new information has come to light regarding your assignment."

He swallowed from the bottle. "Like what?"

"We can talk about that later."

"What's wrong with now?"

"I'd rather hear about you at the moment."

Ray wasn't ready to give him details so he asked a question instead. "How'd you find me out here?"

"I saw them put you in their truck but as they were armed, I couldn't risk approaching. I followed the trail of their vehicle to here." Ben rubbed his eyebrow nervously, "I was afraid I'd be too late." Ray hugged him, happy to have his arms around him again. Fraser breathed in his scent and sighed.

"Right on time, Frase. Just like always."

"Are you hurt?"

He shrugged and finished off the water. "Nothin' serious."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"We don't have time for me t'be hurt. We gotta get Wilkes."

"Ray..."

"We can get him for kidnapping, assault...."

"Ray..."

"Attempted murder...."

"Ray."

"What!"

"We have enough time for me to make sure you're all right. There's a radio in my pack. Special Agent Lewis is waiting for our call."

"I'm all right."

"We have to arrange for a rendezvous and it's at least 20 kilometers to the nearest Ranger's station. You won't make it if you're injured."

Ray recognized the 'immovable Mountie' look but he was feeling stubborn as well. He struggled to his feet. His left leg almost betrayed him but he managed to stay up.

"That's very impressive Ray, but I am still going to examine every inch of you." Ben tried for seductive but his partner refused to be distracted.

"We gotta arrest Wilkes."

"The FBI will arrest Mr. Wilkes."

"That ain't good enough."

"We can accompany them back if you wish."

"He'll get away."

Ben considered this. He wanted to take his lover home. He could see that Ray was in pain, that he had been hurt.

"They have no reason to abandon their home since they believe you've been neutralized. We'll meet up with the federal agents and return with them for the arrest."

Ray sighed before he agreed. "We can go some uh the way now, can't we? It'll be safer in the dark. An' besides, I don' want 'em comin' back and findin' us here."

"Very well," Fraser gave in, reluctantly. Ray's rationale made sense even if Ben didn't want to agree. "We'll go a short distance and then you will let me take care of you."

Reaching into his backpack, he handed Ray a baggie filled with granola, oatmeal, raisins and peanuts.

"It's good for you," Ben said when his partner frowned. "Lots of fat and carbohydrates. Oh, I almost forgot." He reached back in the bag and produced a one pound package of M&M's. He emptied some of the candy into the trail mix. Ray smiled happily when he took the bag.

Fraser produced the radio next. An agent named Wilson answered first, then Lewis was put on. As agreed before he left, they planned to meet at a Ranger's station.

"Detective Vecchio is slightly injured. Is there a closer place to meet?" Ray snorted unhappily at his 'slightly injured' status.

"Understood." Ben clicked off and returned the radio to his pack. "They are unable to meet us in another location. We're to continue to the ranger's station. However, if we haven't arrived by dawn tomorrow, they will send in a search team."

"Glad t'see my well being doesn't change anything." Ray answered with a scowl.

"We can call back. Insist that they..."

"Nah, forget it. Let's just get goin'."

"One more thing," Ben said, digging back into this pack. He pulled out a brown knit ski cap and pulled it over Ray's head and ears. He adjusted the length in front to above his eyebrows. "There, that's better. Keep your hands in your pockets as much as possible."

"I can't do that an' eat."

"Just do the best you can."

"What...no grandma knitted mittens?" Ray asked, sarcastically.

"Unfortunately, no." Ben answered seriously. "But we have pockets, that should suffice."

"I don't see a hat on you."

"Well my hat is not efficient for travelling through trees like this. It tends to get tangled."

"Stetson's made for open spaces, huh?"

"Precisely. Now, shall we get started?"

Determination and tenacity carried Ray for about a mile. Fraser walked ahead of him, glancing back, watching him drag his left leg slightly despite his effort to hide it. Ben kept the pace slow. Dief stayed close to his injured packmate.

Kowalski looked into the forest. The trees looked like they were dancing or swaying. The colors swam together. He turned to look at Ben and found that he was swaying also.

"Fraser?"

Ben caught him when he passed out. The dead weight nearly knocked them both down. Fraser lowered him gently to the ground.

A moment later, Ray's eyes blinked open, their usual bright blue muddy.

"Ray? How do you feel?" Ray shrugged and started to push himself up. Ben held him back with a light hand on his chest. "Please stay where you are."

"Okay," he answered, lying back.

"Are you in pain?"

"Hell yes," Ray said softly.

"What hurts?"

"Everything. They beat the crap outta me before they tied me up." Fraser had to swallow before his next question.

"Is anything broken?" Even as he asked, he started feeling his partner's bones. He started at his feet and moved upwards. Ray grimaced when his calf was touched.

"Nah, nothin' broken. Wilkes had me all tied up to this pulley thing. He had me stretched out real tight, ya know. Somethin' kinduh pulled in my leg. It's just a little sore."

Ben had reached his arms. Ray winced and jerked away.

"Scraped up." He said.

"And when did you eat last?'

"Dinner, the first night. Sara gave me water this mornin' though or yesterday or...hell, I don' know."

Ben pulled his leather jacket off, followed by his red flannel shirt. Gently, he tugged Ray up so that he was sitting. Ray decided to let him do whatever he wanted. Fraser slipped off his jean jacket, then unbuttoned Ray's shirt and slid it off him. He tugged up the sleeves of the Henley. Ray's arms were red and raw. He searched in his backpack until he produced some ointment.

"What, no mucus whale membrane or whatever?" Ray teased.

"Well, I'm quite sure I can find something in here but I thought you were opposed to my..."

"No, no, yer right, stick with over-the-counter stuff."

"Very well," Ben answered with a grin.

Gently, he rubbed the antibiotic lotion on before pulling the sleeves back down. He helped Ray back into his shirt and buttoned it. Then he put his own shirt over Ray's head, buttoning that as well. All followed by the jean jacket. He re-adjusted the hat.

"Sara is the daughter?" Ben asked, after he was sure that his partner was warm enough.

"Yeah, she helped me. Aren't you gonna need this?" Ray asked indicating the new shirt.

"I'm perfectly comfortable," he answered while he replaced his leather jacket. He reached out for Ray's arm and rolled first one sleeve up over the jean jacket cuff, then the other. "I want to have a look at your leg."

"Yeah, okay, but not here, 'less yer plannin' t'call it a night."

"If we go just a bit further, there's a good thatch of trees and foliage. It'll provide cover and we can spend the night there and have something to eat. Do you think you can go a bit further before we camp?"

Ray held out his hand. Ben pulled him up.

"You really can live out here, can't ya?"

"We both can."

Ray leaned over and kissed him. Ben could taste the salt from the nuts and the chocolate from the candy. He pulled away reluctantly.

"Camp," Ben said.

They spent another twenty minutes looking for the area that Ben remembered. When they found it, Ray sunk gratefully to the ground. His leg felt like it was shredding from the inside.

"Ray. Ray. Ray." The detective opened his eyes slowly, startled he had been sleeping.

"Sorry, I..."

"Lie still and be as quiet as you can."

As he realized that Ben was whispering, he looked around curiously. Gradually, voices drifted in. He could hear the sound, but not the words. The only people likely to be up here were Richard Wilkes and his family.

Ben huddled low against his partner. Dressed in blue jeans and the brown thermal, he knew he blended effectively into the scenery. Still, if the voices grew much closer, he'd have to confront them. Normally, he wouldn't hesitate, but Ray worried him. He couldn't risk putting him in danger.

A few moments later, the men moved away.

"We have to get moving. This area won't be safe enough." Ben said. "Are you up to it?"

Adrenaline pushed Ray to his feet. He ignored his aching body and the shooting pain through his calf.

"Yeah, I'm...I'm good."

"I could carry you," Ben said, carefully. Diefenbaker whined and moved away from them.

"I don' think so," Ray growled.

"There's no point in being stubborn. If you're hurt, you should let me help you."

"I'm not hurt, okay? I'm good. I'm ready t'go."

Ben knew arguing would be useless. "Very well, then."

Ray pulled the two flannels closer around himself. "Could ya hear what they were sayin'?"

"Some of it."

"Wanna share?" He asked, irritably. Diefenbaker nudged him playfully then ran into the woods.

"It seems Richard Wilkes has had a change of heart. He and his son are on their way back to retrieve you."

"Don' think that can be good, Frase."

"Perhaps they're planning to release you."

"Nah. They're goin' down for a lotta felonies. Wha'd they stop for? Ya think they heard us?"

"No they didn't. They stopped to urinate."

"Yeah, nothin' like whizzin' in the great outdoors. I can tell ya from experience it's a little better than a metal bowl."

Ben looked back at his partner, puzzled by the comment. A moment later he understood. Reaching out, he took Ray's hand and squeezed it knowingly earning a squeeze back from his partner.

A few minutes of silence passed before Ray spoke again.

"Hey, uh, Frase?"

"Yes, Ray."

"Ya know how we been keepin' things quiet about us? Ya know, 'round the station and the consulate?"

"Given our professions, it seems prudent."

"Yeah, right, well uh..." Fraser stopped. Ray almost ran into him.

"Do you want to tell them now?" He asked seriously.

"No. No!" Kowalski caught himself, knowing he answered too forcefully. He took a breath and lowered his voice. "Sorry. I mean I just...all I was gonna say is when we see Wilkes again, let's just be real careful not t'show anything, okay?"

"Well, we've kept our relationship a secret from our friends and co-workers, I would imagine we can do so from strangers."

Ray leaned in impulsively, landing a quick, warm kiss. He looked away, embarrassed and shaking his head.

"Guess that won't help." Ben pulled him closer, pressing soft lips to his. He let go with a smile.

"Nor will that."

Still holding hands Fraser led the way as dawn started lighting the morning sky. Ray looked up, amazed at the beauty of the purple and blue glow surrounding the pine trees. Distracted, his foot snagged on a root, his hand slipped out of Ben's grip and he went down with a yell.

Ray curled up hugging his injured leg and moaning. It felt like an ice pick had been drilled into his calf. Ben pulled him into his arms, rocking him until the pain subsided. He stroked his hair and rubbed his back soothingly. As Ray calmed, he tried to straighten his leg, only to hiss when pain shot back through the muscle.

"Hold still, Ray, just will yourself to relax," Ben whispered. After several minutes, his partner seemed to settle enough to move. He helped him sit up and lean against a nearby tree. Diefenbaker returned from devouring whatever critters he could flush out and curled up by Ray's side.

"You should have told me it was so bad," Fraser scolded.

"I was doin' okay," Kowalski whined back.

"Yes, I can see that. It's your left leg. What hurts?"

"All of it."

"Be more specific." Ray was surprised by Ben's anger.

"Frase, I..."

"I'm serious, Ray."

"I did somethin' to the calf. It feels like somethin' in there is tryin' to pull loose."

Ben examined it carefully but Ray had to bite back a yelp as he gently flexed his ankle and knee. At last Ben appeared satisfied. "I think you've strained, possibly torn, the muscle. What you need is a cold pack and ibuprofen, and some strapping. What you have is me. So this is what we'll do. There's an empty cave less than a kilometer from here. We'll make camp there. I've been somewhat careful at keeping our trail to a minimum. With luck they'll miss us completely since we're heading away from the cabin. We'll eat and then I'll give you a massage. Hopefully that will ease some of the pain."

"A full body massage?" Ray asked, hopefully.

"Ray, it's well below zero degrees at the moment."

"It ain't that cold."

"In Celsius, Ray."

"Oh."

"While getting you naked is normally a fine idea, I think it would be unwise at the moment. We'll just have to make do around your clothing."

"If it means cuddling with you, I'll take it," Ray teased.

"Here, put your arm around me." Ben pulled his partner up. Ray winced and obeyed this time without arguing.

"How do you know about the cave?"

"I passed it on my way in."

"I didn't come this way."

"You drove, Ray. This is not a driving trail."

They arrived at the promised cave in short order. Fraser took them about twenty feet inside and lowered Ray to the ground. Dief swiped Kowalski's face happily and lay down beside him.

"You don't think they'll look here?"

"Not unless they're better trackers than I give them credit for."

"They are kinduh mountain men."

"They're used to tracking animals for food. Out here you could practically shoot at the wind and hit game. I doubt they have tracked humans before."

"Yeah, but they might."

"Ray, even when they find you missing, they may not bother to come looking."

"Why not?" As soon as he asked the question, he knew the answer.

Ben saw the self-disgust in his eyes just before Ray looked down to busy himself with petting the wolf.

"Ray..."

"Don' worry about it, Frase. I know what yer thinkin'. They're thinkin' I'm alone out here an' I don' have a chance in hell uh survivin'. No food, no water, no weapon. Hell, no sense uh direction. It's not like they're wrong."

"Ah, but they don't know you, Ray. They don't know your determination, your resourcefulness, your strength. I believe they may underestimate you but that mistake will work in our favor."

Ray met his partner's eyes, looking for the joke or the pity. What he found was truth. Ben believed every word he spoke and Ray rewarded him with a grateful smile.

While Fraser made camp by rolling out his sleeping bag, finding cans of food and bottles of water, pouring kibble for Dief and finding his first aid kit, Ray took a look around their sanctuary. It was a cave. Rock walls, mildew, packed dirt and stone for a floor. It smelled damp and almost like rust or aluminum. Ben handed him a bottle of water and another bag of trail mix, remembering to add the M&M's.

"We can't risk a fire but I have stew as well. It's perfectly all right to eat it cold."

"Fraser, I'm starvin'. If I thought I could take Dief, I'd be goin' for the kibble."

Ben chuckled at that. "Admittedly the GORP isn't very filling but you could have eaten more of it while we walked."

"Gorp?"

"Trail Mix to you. Granola, Oatmeal, Raisins, Peanuts and in your case, chocolate."

"Oh. Well I didn't wanna complain. Ya prob'ly weren't plannin' on haulin' me all over the woods."

"I have plenty of supplies, Ray. If we need anything else, we'll find it out here."

"I just wish I could be more help." He said, annoyed with himself.

"Ray, living in the wilderness is a skill. You aren't born with the knowledge."

"Oh, sure, Frase, you prob'ly fell outta yer crib hikin' an' campin'."

"That's just silly, Ray. I had very good teachers. You are as capable of learning to live out here as I am. You just haven't taken the time to develop the necessary skills."

"You really believe that?"

"Of course. Here, eat this, finish your water and then we'll see to your injuries."

Ray took the can of stew and the spoon. Ben sat beside him with his own can and happily watched his partner devour the meal. The wolf finished his bowl and gulped down the water beside it before he bounded back out of the cave.

"Dief's happy," Ray commented. Ben nodded in agreement.

When they finished eating, Fraser took care of the discards. He opened the first-aid kit and shook out two aspirin, handing them to his partner with a fresh bottle of water.

Ray swallowed them without question, obviously tired of being in pain.

"Come on, Ray, take off your jacket and lie down on the sleeping bag."

"Sleep?" he asked, while he took off he coat.

"I promised you a massage. Lie on your back."

Fraser decided to start with his feet. He removed Ray's boots, but left the socks. Firmly and skillfully, he rubbed the heels, then the arch. He squeezed and rubbed each toe individually. Ray moaned happily while his ankles were stroked, pressed and rotated. He felt an erection start and then wilt when it hurt. Fraser didn't notice. He took the squeak of pain as a reaction to the massage.

When Ben reached the injured calf, Ray arched off the sleeping bag with a curse, blinking back tears. Fraser sat back immediately and rubbed a gentle hand over his other leg.

"I'm sorry," he said, hating that he hurt him. "I'll go slower, I promise, more gently."

"S'okay. Surprised me as all." Ray answered, breathlessly.

"How did you do this?" Fraser asked, skipping past the injury to start on his knee.

"Tryin' t'get away."

"You thought pulling your leg off would accomplish that?"

"I was tryin' real hard."

The rest of the massage was taken mostly in silence. The start of each new muscle group was excruciating and then the muscles would melt and obey and soon he'd feel limp again.

Touching his lover this way, having him relaxed and pliable under his hands started Fraser's own arousal. As he reached Ray's groin, he made a playful stoke over his penis. Ray jerked forward like he'd been jolted. Ben rocked back on his knees, surprised.

"Nothin' pulled there, buddy."

"I...I'm..."

"S'okay, just... s'okay. Maybe we could just skip up t'the shoulders, huh. Lotta tension up there."

"As you wish." Ray knew he hurt Ben's feelings. The two of them had been together for months now. Touching was free reign. They never denied access to each other. And in this case, Ben was only playing. They both knew there was a time and place and this wasn't either of those things. He didn't know how to apologize though. He would have to explain. He didn't want to. He didn't even want to think about what happened in the cellar.

"Would you roll on to your stomach, please?" Ray sighed at the formality. But he shifted over without comment. Fraser was doing a fine job with the massage and he mostly felt like a damp rag.

The firm kneading of his back and shoulders felt better than his legs. His arms were painful in a good way.

"Just one more thing," Ben said, pulling out his tube of ointment.

He lifted the various sleeves on Ray's shirts and re-applied the antibiotic. When he finished, Ray had a hard time moving at all. He felt boneless and weak.

Ben pushed back the unzipped sleeping bag and helped him to climb inside. Then he zipped him back up, snug and warm.

"Yer not comin' in here with me?" Ray mumbled while Fraser readjusted the knit cap.

"I'll keep watch. You sleep."

"I should argue with ya." Ben smiled at that as he leaned down and kissed him thoroughly. Their tongues danced with each other. It felt good and warm and right.

"I love you," Ben whispered.

"An' I you," Ray answered with a tired grin.

Ben sat beside him until Ray's breath settled into the telltale sign of sleep. Then he stood to stretch his legs and take a quick look outside. Diefenbaker had taken sentry duty. He was lying at the entrance letting the autumn sun soak him in its warmth. Ben instructed him to stay with Ray while he headed out to cover their tracks.

He backtracked over two miles before feeling satisfied they were safe. Using stones and felled trees, he returned to the cave without leaving an obvious trail.

He was happy to find Ray still sleeping when he went back inside. Ben pulled a worn paperback from his pack then stretched out with his back to the cave wall. He would rise, stretch, pace a little and then settle back down with his reading.

Towards mid-afternoon, voices drifted into the cave. This time Ben could not make out the words. He checked their position again confirming they could not be seen from the outside. He went to the inside wall and stood silently against the stone, waiting to see if the visitors would come closer or move on. The voices became clearer. They still weren't near enough to understand all of the words but he could pick out pieces now.

A few feet away, Ray grew restless. Ben split his attention from the cave entrance to his partner. Ray was gradually moving into the throes of a true nightmare. He started thrashing inside the sleeping bag and pushing back with his hands. He mumbled incoherently but his voice grew louder.

With no time to wake him properly, Ben left the cave wall. Kneeling by the sleeping bag, he pulled his lover next to him. He put one soft hand over his mouth and the other around his body trying to keep him still.

The intruders were very close to the cave.

"He's gotta be bait by now." The younger man said.

"You saw the other set of tracks, Ezra."

"I know. But, I saw the bark on the tree too. He mustuh rubbed that down gettin' loose so he didn't have any help. The second guy most likely came after he was gone."

"Maybe."

"An' the wolf prints an' that scuffle in the dirt. He was prob'ly dinner."

"Not enough blood for that. And no remains."

"He won't make it out here, Daddy. He's gotta be half dead by now."

"All right. Let's head back towards the cabin. Take the south trail and keep your eyes open."

They left the area. Ben listened as their voices faded. A few moments later, Dief bounded into the cave with a whine. Fraser noticed how stiff Ray had become in his arms. He took his hand away from his mouth. Ray remained still. Ben spoke his name softly but he didn't respond.

In a sudden frenzy, Ray fought his way out of the sleeping bag. It was a frustrating and difficult process. Ben started to help and then realizing he couldn't, he stayed out of the way.

Finally breaking free, Ray crawled away to the opposite side of the cave. He pulled his legs up, then grimaced when the muscle in his lower leg objected. He pushed the left one out in front of him while he hugged his right knee.

Ben watched him helplessly. He started to walk towards him and Ray held up his hand, warning him to stop.

"What is it?" He asked, frozen in place and desperate to understand.

Ray wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. He wasn't actively crying. A couple of surprised tears were all he allowed. The cap was turned sideways and pushed back so some scattered blond hair poked out from beneath.

"Please Ray, tell me what's wrong."

"I don't want to," he said, sounding like a stubborn child.

"Please." Kowalski looked up from his knees and found the pale, concerned face of his lover, crouched on his knees, one hand slightly extended as if approaching a frightened animal.

"I'm okay." He knew how weak that sounded. "It's nothin', it's stupid."

"Wilkes and his son, did they frighten you?" Ben moved slightly closer.

"Well, they did knock the stuffin' outta me," he said, a little too brightly.

"And that's why you're..."

"Come on, Fraser. I lost fights before. It ain't nothin' new."

"Will you tell me then?" Ben moved again.

"I just thought they were gonna find us."

"There's nothing else?" He came closer.

"You don' have t'a sneak up on me. Come on over." Ben sighed. He scooted over and sat with his legs crossed. He pulled Ray's injured calf into his lap and began rubbing gently.

"It's not that big uh deal but I know if I tell ya, you'll act like it is an' I just...I don' wanna dwell on it, ya know? But I mean, yer you an' we're t'gether an' I know I gotta tell ya but I just don' wanna make it some big thing." Fraser wisely stayed quiet. He continued running his hands along the calf, waiting patiently while Ray gathered the words in his head.

"I was down in the cellar for days, Fraser. I was dressed like this but no blanket or nothin'. It was real cold at night an' I was alone most uh the time. The way I was tied up was like bein' on a rack or somethin'. Everything was all pulled tight an' I couldn't move. And, um..." Ben held his breath. Ray let his out. "Wilkes came and visited a few times. He, uh, he...touched me."

"As in..."

"Played with my dick, Fraser," he blurted out, then cursed himself when Ben paled.

"Oh my God," Ben whispered. He abandoned the leg and moved to Ray's side, gathering him against his chest. Ray leaned against him, resting his head against his shoulder. He reached out to entwine their fingers together.

"No, see, this is what I mean, it ain't the worst thing that's ever happened to me." Ben kept quiet, just rubbed a gentle hand against his arm. "Okay, maybe it is, but I ain't hurt." Ben continued stroking him but slower. "Well, yeah, I guess I'm hurt but he used a glove so..."

"A glove?" Fraser asked. "What sort of glove?"

"The kind ya use t'wash dishes, ya know, the yellow one, kinduh thick."

"Dear God."

"See, this what I mean? Yer goin' into 'big, protective Mountie' an' I can't deal with that. Yer all mad an' upset an' I can't talk to ya like that."

It took a moment but Fraser forced himself to take a breath. Slowly he released his grip slightly. Ray didn't take the opportunity to push away, nuzzling his face into Ben's chest instead.

"Please tell me."

"See, I wasn't gonna tell ya out here," Ray began, "I was gonna tell ya but after we got back cuz I didn't wanna make ya crazy out here. But...he'd cover my mouth, Frase...when he'd be...you know...An' just now when I woke up an' you'd...well... ya get the idea."

"I'm so sorry."

"He didn't rape me, Fraser. He didn't really do that much. I don't think he knew what he was doin'."

"Apparently, he had some idea," Ben answered, bitterly.

"Yeah I guess, but he couldn't uh liked it, right? I mean the gloves an' all kinduh say he didn't wanna get dirty."

"I suppose so. Evidently he's heterosexual."

"That's what I think too. Maybe he just wanted t'experiment or somethin'. We both know this kinduh thing is about power, not sex."

Ben couldn't answer. His emotions were churning too fast and too loud.

"You mad?" Ray asked softly, after a few minutes passed.

Ben cleared his throat. "I'm not angry with you."

"I know that. But yer upset. It's really okay. Ya gotta let this go, all right?"

"I won't do that."

Ray heard the finality in his lover's voice. As Ben held him closer, he let out a sigh. A part of him wanted to refuse the coddling. He knew all about sexual assault victims and he was determined not to be one. As far as he was concerned, Wilkes' ...visits...barely constituted assault.

But being wrapped against his warm, strong Mountie, feeling safe and loved and protected outweighed everything else. He curled his body tight against his lover and let the rest of the world fade away.

As Ray settled against him, slowly letting himself surrender to sleep and comfort, Ben had two distinct thoughts. The first was...He touched my Ray. This was quickly followed by...without his consent. Anger and revulsion filled him, then swept him clean leaving desolation in their wake.

With nothing else to do and needing to hold his lover, Ben woke Ray long enough to return him to the sleeping bag. He crawled in beside him.

"What about watch?" Ray asked, sleepily.

"It's unlikely they'll be back this way. And Dief will warn us of danger."

"We gotta meet Lewis."

"We'll travel more safely at night."

They huddled together, kissing softly and gaining comfort over passion. Ray fell asleep first. Fraser followed giving a brief thought that Ray might be sleeping too much and what would that mean. He set his internal clock for nightfall. They hadn't made good time yet. They needed to push on at dark and try to make the ranger's station before the new dawn.

Ben forced the mental images of Wilkes abusing Ray from his head. It took a great deal of focus and restraint to keep his feelings in check. He hugged Ray closer until his companion squirmed and mumbled.

A few hours later Ray woke first, just as the cave started growing dim with evening. He was lying across Fraser's chest with his head tucked into his shoulder. The cap was lying above him. He shifted and Ben rubbed his back for a few moments while they both finished waking. Ray stretched his full length with a groan and a sigh. Since they were nearly the same height, he found his face pressed into Ben's hair. He rubbed his nose against the soft curls breathing in the scent. Ben turned his head and was met with a warm, determined mouth.

Fraser curled his arms under Ray and pressed his hands against his back pulling him closer and harder. Kowalski met the pressure by using his own hands to search along his partner's sides, moving lower to his hips. He was humming softly while Ben sucked on his tongue. As they both became aroused, Ray let out a gasp of pain and pulled away, burying his face in Fraser's shoulder.

"Dammit," he whispered into the warm flesh.

"Did I hurt you?" Ben asked while he rubbed Ray's back, trying to soothe him.

"No, it was...oh, God, Fraser, let's not start this again."

"Start what, Ray? I don't understand."

"I'm sore, ya know, down there, I'm sore." Ben pushed him back so he could see Ray's face. He saw embarrassment.

"It's all right, Ray. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yeah I know. Look, let's just let's forget about it, okay?"

"Actually...uh...I'd like to take a look, Ray. I need to make sure..."

"No. No way."

"It's important."

"Yer not a doctor. I don't want ya seein' me like this. It's...it's ugly."

"I don't care about that. I have to know how seriously you were hurt, Ray. I may be able to help."

"How Fraser? By lookin' at me and tellin' me I'm bruised? I already know that." Blue eyes searched gray. Fraser leaned on one elbow above his lover. Ray lay flat on his back staring up at him.

"Then you've checked yourself out," Ben persisted.

"Yes. Kinduh." The Mountie frowned and Ray knew he was lost.

"I knew you'd make a big deal outta this." He started unbuttoning his jeans. Ben took his hand away. He kissed the palm.

"It's all right if you don't want to."

Ray sighed. He leaned up capturing the soft lips for just a moment. He laid back.

"It's cold so be quick about it."

Ben unbuttoned his lover's jeans and he opened the zipper. He glanced up surprised when Ray wasn't wearing underwear.

"I forgot t'pack an extra." Ben nodded. He had to push the sleeping bag away to let in enough light to see. Even then, all he could make out were shadows. He slipped out of the bag and pulled the flap back over Ray. He rummaged in his pack until he produced a flashlight.

Ray fidgeted uncomfortably. Ben kissed him before pulling the heavy fabric out of the way. He checked the area fully, touching as little as possible but wanting to be thorough. He refused to react outwardly though his stomach clenched tightly.

"You were right, Ray. It's just some bruising and redness. Nothing that won't heal in a few days time. I'd like to use the antibiotic ointment. Would that be all right?"

"I guess." Ray answered, grudgingly.

Ben returned to the pack. He fished out the first aid kit. He handed his partner two more aspirin and a bottle of water first. After they were swallowed, he used the ointment, carefully warming it between his fingers before applying it. Ray's body responded as it always did to Fraser's touch, then wilted immediately in pain. He winced, closed his eyes and cursed. Ben kissed him lightly.

Ray buttoned up. He rose slowly, cautious of his leg. He limped a few steps, then turned around and walked a bit more.

"I don't understand it, Frase. I'd bet my life he's never touched another guy. It disgusted him, what he was doin', but he kept comin' back."

"There are things you don't know. We should have breakfast and then I'll explain. Is that all right?"

"Breakfast?"

"It may be evening but we did just wake. I have more GORP, if you'd prefer that."

"No, no, I did the trail mix thing. Much more an' I'll start grazing."

He walked towards the front of the cave and out of view. Ben found the frosted pastry and orange juice. They couldn't risk a fire so there would not be coffee. Ray came back a few minutes later. He lowered himself awkwardly to the ground.

Ben watched him. His partner moved slowly, favoring his right leg. His irrepressible hair lay matted on one side and stuck up in tufts on the other. Ben's shirt ballooned around his body and the sleeves had come loose while they slept, hanging past his hands. Ben was reminded of the orphan, Oliver Twist. Not so much the physical appearance as the overall impression he gave.

"Sweet roll? You, Fraser?" Ray teased.

"I brought them for you."

"You expect me t'believe that? I bet yer a junk food junkie at heart."

"I'm a Mountie, Ray. I don't lie." He handed over the package of rolls. "All this sugar and fat should please you."

Ray growled playfully as he ripped into his breakfast. He was still feeling the effects of being starved before and he couldn't seem to eat enough to be full. Ben watched him, knowing that he needed the calories and glad that he felt like eating.

Diefenbaker smelled the food and appeared almost immediately with a pathetic whine. Ben pointed out his bowl of kibble. The wolf ignored that and went to sit by Ray. Fraser glared at him. When he turned away for a moment to reach for juice, he heard Ray whisper and the wolf was soon swallowing a large piece of sweet roll.

They chatted companionably while they ate. Ray grumbled about the lack of coffee. Ben explained the term "roughing it." After several minutes, Ray sat back, a bottle of juice in one hand while the other ruffled wolf fur.

"Better lay it on me," he said.

Ben nodded and told him the story of Rebecca Wilkes and AD Colby. He explained what little he knew of the circumstances surrounding her rape. He theorized that Richard Wilkes was actually protecting Rebecca from Colby the day that Sara was born.

"He said somethin' to me. Said he wondered if what I was feelin' was like what she must've felt. He mustuh meant his wife."

"That's likely."

"Then what he did to me was like gettin' even for her."

"Possibly." Ray let his head fall back so that he faced the ceiling. His eyes were closed as he sighed.

"God, what a mess." He said.

"It doesn't excuse him. What he did was unconscionable."

"Yeah, I know. I do know that. It's just... well I can see why he'd be so mad."

"While his anger is understandable, it has been seventeen years, and it had nothing to do with you."

"We should get goin'," Ray said abruptly, getting to his feet. He started gathering their few supplies. He fed Dief a leftover pastry.

"You're not helping his diet, Ray."

"Oh, come on, Fraser, he's gotta be workin' those calories off out here."

"That is not the point. Would you be so kind as to put your trash back in the pack while I go..."

"Commune with nature?" Ray finished for him. He knew that Ben was irritated about his disregard for the wolf's diet.

"In a manner of speaking." Fraser replied.

Ray smiled to himself. The man was so touchy about Dief's wildlife skills. The wolf lived in Chicago so why worry about hunting and all that?

He cleared up the cave, hoping to discover he was becoming more limber. Most of his body felt better. He was still sore from getting beat up and his leg still hurt a lot but he was starting to heal. Ben's magic hands had done wonders for his stiffness.

By the time Fraser returned, they were ready to go. Ray offered to carry the pack but Ben refused. He quoted some camping rule about carrying your own gear.

The evening air blew cool around them. The aroma of pine filled them with the sense of outdoors. The pain in Ray's leg was bearable with the use of aspirin and what he guessed was a slow pace for Fraser. The only time he really had trouble was when he forgot to watch and jagged rock or uneven ground jammed his foot sideways. After the first couple of mistakes and the intense pain that followed, he put all his concentration into watching the ground. He became so focused on this task, he was surprised when Fraser called a halt to rest. Neither man had spoken in a long time and the sound seemed foreign.

Ray was surprised to find they had been walking for hours. They shared some water and split some trail mix while they rested on the ground. Diefenbaker continued his playful examination of the trees, shrubs and small wildlife. Even Ben had to admit that the wolf was acting like a wolf for a change.

After a careful examination of Ray's general wellbeing, they started out again. Ray did not mention that he was ready to gnaw off his leg and leave it behind.

A couple of hours passed before they stopped again while Ben consulted his compass and a small topographical map. Ray looked over his shoulder while his partner pointed out their current location and their destination. Even on the map it looked like a long way to go. Fraser assured him that they were making good time.

Satisfied they were progressing in the correct direction; they continued the long hike to their rendezvous. Giving up on maintaining a brave front, Ray started leaning on Fraser, letting him guide them while he took some pressure off his injured limb. A short time later, Diefenbaker growled. Both men stopped, listening for voices and sounds of movement.

Ben found the problem first. Two men moving past the tree line a few hundred feet ahead of them. Ben pointed and Ray led the way back into some scrub. They ducked down while Dief disappeared into the brush.

"Come on outta there," Richard Wilkes said.

Ben had covered Ray's body in an effort to make them both less visible. With a gentle pressure he pushed Ray to the forest floor before he stood.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said pleasantly, noting the hunting rifles that the two men carried.

"What're you doin' there?" Ezra asked.

"Hiking," Ben answered honestly. "It's beautiful here."

"You wandered off the National Forest," Wilkes said.

"Did I?"

"You alone?" Ezra asked.

"Well I have Diefenbaker with me although he seems to be missing at the moment." The half-wolf trotted into the open as if on cue.

"That's a wolf," Ezra said.

"Yes, Sir. He's my companion."

"That's a beautiful animal. He's not from around here though, is he?" Wilkes asked.

"He's an arctic wolf. We're Canadian."

"Canadian, huh. Where ya headed?"

"Here and there," Fraser answered vaguely. "Are you doing some night hunting?"

"Yeah we are," the son answered, taking a step forward. Diefenbaker growled and he stopped at the threat. "Not very friendly."

"Apparently not today, so we'll be on our way. Good day, gentlemen."

Later, Fraser remembered feeling confident at that point. He managed a few steps with Dief at his side before Ezra said, "There's someone over there."

Wilkes ordered Fraser to stop. Diefenbaker jumped Ezra. Ray leaped to his feet, hurling a good-sized rock at the boy. Not expecting the wolf to have already brought him down, the rock flew harmlessly into the woods. Wilkes swung away from Fraser and fired his rifle. Fraser tackled the older man as he caught the sight of Ray falling backward. Wilkes took advantage of the Mountie's distraction and clubbed him with the side of his rifle. Ben fell over dazed.

Dief stood on Ezra's chest, chewing on his jacket and growling. Wilkes grabbed Ben by the front of this shirt and shook him.

"Call him off," he ordered. Fraser managed to pull enough sense in his head to call to the wolf.

Diefenbaker tore a piece of the jacket off and devoured it before he jumped off Ezra. He ran around the brush to where Ray was laying. The detective seemed to bounce back to his feet. He cast a dazed look around until his eyes landed on Fraser. He seemed to focus for a moment, looking like a macabre corpse with blood streaming down his face then his eyes rolled back and he collapsed. Dief whined and licked his ear.

Fraser rolled to his feet. Wilkes turned away from his victim in time to see a furious Mountie bearing down on him. He fired as Fraser hit him but the bullet flew into the air. Ben punched him in the belly, pummeling him with both hands until a voice finally penetrated his terror and rage.

"You like the wolf? Stop it! Stop it!"

Ben let Wilkes fall. Ezra Wilkes clung to his rife, pointing it at Diefenbaker who was standing protectively on Ray's chest and growling. Richard Wilkes crawled towards his son who helped him up with one hand while he kept the gun aimed. The older man was having trouble catching his breath.

Ben spared Ezra a brief look before he scrambled over the shrub to his fallen partner.

He pulled the bloodied cap away. Ray moaned softly while Fraser examined the wound on the right side of his forehead. Blood pumped from the small graze. Ben reached in his pack.

"Hey." Ezra said.

"I have a first aid kit," Ben answered without stopping.

"Just be careful about it, I'm watchin' you."

He fished out the gauze and tape. He used his knife to cut a length of cloth, then pressed it to the wound to stop the blood. He taped it down firmly. Ray made small, pained noises while weakly trying to pull away.

"Shsh. It's all right. I'm here," Ben soothed.

He checked over his partner. Luckily, the bullet had grazed his skull only. It looked like the lead bounced off. Ben did not want to think about the luck of that or the physics that had to be in place to cause it.

Ezra helped his father. Wilkes wasn't hurt seriously, just in pain and out of breath.

"I think you killed him," Ezra said, just a touch of panic in his voice.

"He's not dead," Wilkes responded.

The forest hung quiet around them. The only sound was Fraser's gentle soothing of his partner. Diefenbaker had abandoned the group at the alpha's command. He hated to leave his packmate but the wolf knew it was the alpha's job to protect the pack.

The Wilkes family took a few more minutes to recover before Richard Wilkes stood up. He checked Ezra to make sure Diefenbaker hadn't harmed him.

"What're we gonna do?" Ezra asked.

"We'll take 'em both back t'the cabin. This new fella knows his way around out here, don't ya?" Ben didn't answer. He was listening to their conversation but his concentration remained with Ray.

"He gonna die before we get him there?" Ezra asked.

"He's not going to die," Ben answered.

"Ezra, take his pack," Wilkes said. Then to Ben, he said, "You can carry him."

Fraser had completed all he could do for Ray's injury. Now, he was only holding him. Ray hadn't opened his eyes but he fidgeted in his arms, drawing his legs up, pushing them back, moving his arms randomly. His head remained still in Ben's lap.

"Who are you, anyway?" Wilkes asked, while Ezra relieved Ben of his knife. Ben put his arms beneath his partner to lift him.

"My name is Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police."

"What're you doin' here?"

"Retrieving my partner," Ben answered, grunting under the weight then cradling Ray to his chest.

The four men trekked the few miles back to the Wilkes cabin. They kept the pace slow. The night was bright enough with stars and moon but they had to be careful in the general darkness.

By the time they reached the cabin, morning was starting to appear over the horizon. Wilkes led the way into their home, followed by Ben and Ray. Ezra came in last. Wilkes pointed towards the couch and Ben lay Ray down gently. He pulled a faded patchwork quilt from the back and covered him.

Ray mumbled for a few moments, then he opened his eyes. Slits of blue appeared and gradually became round. He focused on the closest body to him and found Fraser kneeling beside the couch, tucking the blanket around him. He tried to speak but no sound came from the mouthed words. He gave a small smile before he closed his eyes again.

Fraser squeezed his hand in return before standing to face their kidnappers. Ezra stood closest to him. In the kitchen, a boy stood near the stove. A pale, young girl hovered near the hall. Wilkes stood in the center of the room. He looked like a predator eyeing his prey as he switched his gaze from Fraser to Ray and back again.

"I have no problem with you," Wilkes said. "This isn't personal."

"It doesn't get much more personal, Mr. Wilkes."

"My children are at stake. If I let ya go, we'll all go to prison. I can't allow that."

"The FBI knows where we are. Your only option is to surrender to the law. Tell your story, ask for leniency. You have cause." Ben remained deliberately vague. He did not know what Wilkes had told his children regarding their mother. He had no wish to inform them.

"No, I won't do that. Your law has caused me nothing but grief."

"You'd rather make your children murderers?"

"Daddy..." Elijah started.

"Quiet, Eli. Take your sister and go outside. You too, Ezra."

"I don't wanna leave ya alone, Daddy," Ezra said.

"He won't do anything while I have a gun. His partner might get killed and I'm betting he won't risk it."

Fraser watched Wilkes through narrowed eyes. This was the man who ordered Ray's beating, who kept him for days, who abused him. Ben could arrest the others, even speak to the prosecutor on their behalf, but this man, he wanted to kill.

Wilkes stayed in the center of the room while his children filed out around him. He kept his rifle ready in his hands though it wasn't actually aimed. He looked a little too indifferent as if he didn't care what happened to any of them. He took a couple of steps towards the couch.

"You should stay back," Ben said.

"Nice show of bravado." Wilkes commented. "I won't hurt him."

"You've already harmed him."

"He told ya everything, didn't he?" Ben didn't respond but the answer was clear on his face.

"Settle down. It's not like he's a child or a virgin. From what I've seen of the two of ya, I'd guess he didn't really mind me bein' a man."

"Then I suppose Rebecca didn't mind either. She preferred men as well, did she not?"

Wilkes swung his rifle like a club. Ben ducked and caught just a piece of the metal against his shoulder. It hurt but not too badly. Wilkes backed up immediately and took his rifle in a more threatening position.

"What do you know about her?" He asked, his voice shaking.

"I know what happened to her. I know about Assistant Director Colby," Ben returned softly, rubbing his shoulder.

"Rebecca made me promise that I wouldn't let him on our property. I knew she was havin' trouble. But... but I promised. I couldn't let him near her."

"I'm sure you did what you believed was right." Ben answered.

"Why'd he come here?"

It took a moment for Ben to realize that he meant Ray.

"The FBI asked him to come. The letters you've been writing have taken on a more threatening tone. There was concern that you planned to act on them."

"What're you talkin' about? I've been sending letters for years. I just didn't want them to forget me. Forget what they did."

"Then you've succeeded. They haven't forgotten."

"If they know, then why'd they send him? T'cover it up again?"

"Ray didn't know the truth about your wife. Only about the circumstances regarding her death. No one did except Colby and he died after Ray came here. It was my job to bring Ray out."

"Colby's dead?"

"Yes."

Wilkes grew silent for a moment, obviously considering the information he was given.

"That's sure convenient," he said.

Ben rubbed at his eyebrow. "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean, it's a real convenient story. Perfect for getting you outta here."

"I am not lying." Ben said. Wilkes started to approach again. "You should still remain where you are."

"I told ya I won't hurt him."

"No you won't."

Ben considered his chances. He might be able to disarm Wilkes. He might be able to reach out and break his neck. But, then what? His children would come back to a dead father. They would be armed and likely filled with the same rage that Ben felt.

Fraser suspended his screaming instincts and stepped backward. He settled on the couch beside Ray. Wilkes moved closer until he was standing above both of them. He looked down at Ray with an almost paternal smile.

"My wife showed me this after...after that bastard...she said that every touch is different. She said she could lay with me cuz I didn't feel like him."

Wilkes placed one flat palm against Ray's cheek. The injured man moaned and shifted away immediately. Ben slapped his hand back. He moved immediately to stroke his lover's cheek and hand. Ray subsided with a contented sigh.

"Ya see? He wants your touch. Even confused and hurt, he's looking for you."

"What do you want from us?" Ben asked, irritated.

"You an' him? I don't know. Nothin'. Everything. I want the last week back. I want the FBI to stay outta my life. Outta the lives of my children. I wanna kill him for being one of them. For makin' nice with Sara so she trusted him. For using her the way Colby..."

"Ray never touched your daughter."

"I don't mean that. If he had, he'd be long dead. Colby wanted Rebecca t'betray me. Tried t'turn her away from me. It's when she wouldn't that he hurt her."

"Ray would never hurt your daughter. He had a three-day assignment. He was to come in, look around, establish if you presented a threat and then leave. If he befriended Sara, it was genuine. He had no need to use her for anything."

"You're a liar, same as him." Wilkes re-aimed his rifle. "Pick him up."

"Mr. Wilkes..."

"I haven't decided anything. Just pick him up."

Ben lifted Ray once more. Wilkes pointed him down the hall and into a bedroom. Ray could have told him that it was the boys' room. Once they were inside, he locked the door behind them.

Ben settled Ray on one of the single beds and under the covers. Day had come and the room was cool but not cold. Still he worried that his partner might be in shock. He climbed into the bed beside him and pulled his body full against his own. Ray smelled like pine and mud and perspiration. His skin felt cool.

Some time later, Ben felt wriggling in his arms. He opened his eyes, confused at first, then surprised he had slept. Ray faced him with a weak grin. A moment later, soft, insistent lips pressed against his own, then a warm tongue pushed for entry. Playful and warm, his mouth was soon full and his tongue was being thoroughly assaulted. He pushed himself up, not breaking contact and using his free hand to cup the face of his partner. The need to breathe interfered as Ray released his mouth only to run his lips down his chin and across his throat. Ben sighed regretfully as he pushed himself back, stroking Ray's face from his cheek to his neck.

"Feeling better?" Ben asked, his voice scratchy.

"Eyes are open."

"That is an improvement." Fraser reached up to gently check his wound. Ray caught his hand.

"Still hurts." He said.

"I'd like to look."

"Yer like a peepin' Tom, ya know that?" Ben blushed earning himself another deep kiss. Reluctantly he pushed away again and turned to sit up. Ray followed him more slowly but soon he was mostly upright, leaning heavily against Fraser's arm.

"I don' feel too good."

"Nauseous?" Ben asked, putting an arm around him.

"Yeah."

"You most likely have a concussion, Ray."

"What happened t'the bullet?"

"I don't know precisely. It must be laying out in the forest somewhere."

"How come it ain't in my head?"

"Hard skull, I imagine."

Ray nodded, rubbing his head against his lover's chest.

"Bastard shot me."

"I'm sorry, Ray. I meant to get us out of the woods safely."

"Not yer fault, Frase. So, our uh...secret's out, huh?"

"How did you..."

"I was out, but not like out, ya know? Kinduh dazed, I guess. Light hurt my eyes. I heard some stuff before I passed out."

"I told him the truth but he didn't believe me."

"S'okay. No reason why he should, considerin' everything."

Fraser knelt in front of his partner. He looked into his eyes while he took both hands into his own. Ray's skin felt cool and damp. His eyes were still not focused properly. Ben stood up and pulled the blanket around his shoulders.

"Try to stay warm, Ray."

"A Mountie blanket'd do the trick."

"I don't have my pack, Ray. The bedroll and..." Ben realized what Ray meant. He blushed again. "That wouldn't be entirely appropriate."

Ray just grinned at him and pulled the blanket closer.

"Do you feel as if you need to vomit?"

Ray laughed.

"Nah, but you'll be the first t'know."

Ben checked his watch. More than two hours had passed since Wilkes locked them in the bedroom. In another two hours, they would be late reaching the Ranger's station. Agent Lewis and her team would come to the Wilkes' home first to search.

Ray touched his partner's arm just as Fraser finished checking the bandage on his head. Ben glanced down at him.

"I never got...excited. Hard. Ya know? Not when he was touchin' me."

"Ray..."

"I know yer gonna say it doesn't matter. An' yer gonna tell me why a person's body reacts t'stuff even if they don't want to. I know that. I just wanted you t'know, I didn't, not with him."

Ben touched his face gently, sadly wishing he could take the last few days away from him. Shaking himself back to the problems at hand, he tucked the blanket closer around his shoulders.

Richard and Ezra Wilkes came through the door suddenly and Ben wondered for the first time why there were no windows in a bedroom. Both men stood up when their visitors entered but Ray stumbled and sat back down. Ben put a hand on his shoulder.

"I've made the only possible decision," Wilkes said. "You'll be going with Ezra, Constable."

"Going where?" Ray asked, tamping down on his panic.

"That shouldn't concern you," Wilkes said.

"We'll stay together," Ben said.

"This isn't a debate."

"You better have a whole lotta friends," Ray said, standing. This time he surprised himself by staying up.

"Have it your way," Wilkes responded, leveling his rifle in the general area of Ben's abdomen. Ben closed his eyes. Ray started yelling.

"Wait, wait, okay, whatever you want."

"Ray..."

"No. You go with 'em, Frase. I'll be okay. You go with 'em."

"I won't leave you."

"You have to. We don't got a choice, okay? You'll go, you'll come back. I'll be here waitin'."

Ben closed his eyes and took a breath to steady himself. He squeezed Ray's hand and turned to Wilkes.

"That's so sweet," Wilkes said, sarcastically. "Maybe we need to turn a hose on ya."

"At least we don' go around molestin' helpless cops, you son of a bitch," Ray spat.

Wilkes looked at him. The two men matched rage for rage. Ezra looked at his father, clearly puzzled. Ben held his breath.

"Do as I said, Ezra. Take him outta here."

The son indicated with the barrel of his rifle. Ben took a last look at Ray before he went through the door. Wilkes waited until their steps could no longer be heard.

"Ya shouldn't try an' turn a boy against his father."

Ray seemed to deflate with Ben's departure. All the adrenaline fueling his courage drained away. He was left dizzy and sick. He couldn't focus without becoming nauseous so he kept his eyes on the floor.

"Your kind is the reason for this. They shouldn't have sent ya here."

"I know. I didn't before but I do now."

"Your...your what? Your friend?" He asked with contempt, "He said you didn't know about my wife."

"I didn't."

"You're a liar. Ya came here to turn Sara just like Colby tried t'turn Rebecca."

Ray sunk on to the bed. His leg wasn't going to hold up much longer. His head hurt.

"Believe what ya want. I got no way t'prove anything."

"Ya shouldn't 've tried t'tell Ezra about our...our encounter."

"It was yer encounter. I was a blow-up doll or maybe one uh them punchin' bag dolls that kids get."

"Say good-bye, the life you knew is over. Just the way mine ended when Rebecca died."

Wilkes walked out. Ray heard the lock turn behind him. He wondered why he would have a lock on the outside of a bedroom door. It wouldn't keep people out. It would only keep people in.

He sat weakly on the bed, barely staying upright. His head was pounding a marching beat. His body felt like he was used as the ball in soccer. He thought about Fraser.

Then he heard the gunshot. A single pop in the middle of silence. He jumped up, forgetting his leg and stumbling with a yell. Incapable of thinking he crawled over to the door. He pounded on the wood, screaming until someone banged the door from the other side. Ray quieted until a voice came clearly through the barrier.

"I warned you," Wilkes said.

Ray slammed fists into the door, screaming until his voice was nothing but a whisper. He stopped feeling his hands long before he noticed the smears of blood on the rough wood. When he couldn't lift his arms anymore, he rolled to his knees and nearly sobbed as his leg collapsed beneath him. Slowly he crawled towards the bed to wait. They would come for him next and he was ready.

He flinched in surprise when the bedroom opened. Then desolation came as Agent Lewis peered inside. He was rescued but it only meant they wouldn't kill him, he'd have to live that much longer without Fraser.

"I've found Vecchio," she called to someone.

The wildness in Kowalski's eyes worried her. There was something dangerous in his face.

"Detective," she said, approaching slowly, "It's all right now. You're safe." She knelt in front of him and stroked the top of his knee. He jerked away. "Let me help you."

He couldn't answer her. Even as Ray looked at her worried face, he couldn't find his voice. Somewhere a part of his mind acknowledged that he was in shock but it was like being trapped in a cage of blinding white light.

"Vecchio. Ray. Let me help you. I just want to see if you're all right." She continued talking softly. He didn't fight or react while she looked at his head, then used her scarf to wrap his bleeding hand. She took the quilt off the bed and wrapped it around him.

Ray reached out suddenly, gripping her wrist.

"What is it?" she asked, surprised by the pressure in his fingers. The way he was holding on, she might have bruises the next day.

"Fraser," he said and blinked a few times. Tears were forming in his blue eyes. He blinked them away again.

"Where is Constable Fraser?" Ray shook his head. He couldn't force words around the emotions he was fighting. Another agent poked his head in the room.

"Helicopter'll be here in five," he said before leaving. He couldn't see Ray's fist clench tighter around Lewis' wrist. She grimaced.

"Where is he, Ray?"

"They killed him," he said and the strength in him broke. He couldn't hold his head up anymore. His hand fell away from her.

"Oh, God," Lewis breathed. She jumped up and hollered out the door. Ray couldn't see whom she spoke with but she told them to look for Fraser. When she went back to Ray he was already retreating back into himself.

"Hold on, Ray. Tell me about Constable Fraser."

"I can't leave him here."

Lewis maintained her authority, trying to break through his confusion.

"Tell me about him. Help me find him." Ray just shook his head. Nothing made sense.

Lewis watched him sink back to shock. She had to get him to a hospital. Putting an arm around him, she was careful to keep the blanket in place as she helped him up. He leaned on her with most of his weight as she led him out of the bedroom then through the back door.

Outside the Wilkes' cabin was a scene of controlled chaos. Police from all sorts of agencies were searching the grounds. They were gathering evidence and looking for signs of any additional illegal activity.

Carol Lewis brought a small army with her. She had local police, federal agents and two park rangers. For the moment, the Wilkes family was under arrest and being stored in their barn. They had put up a mild resistance but she was in no mood for demands or standoffs. She and two other agents rushed the barn and disarmed them without a shot being fired. After the family was subdued, they set their search for the missing officers.

Lewis moved Ray through the activity slowly. The helicopter took over all attention as it's whirling blades and thunder-like engine landed in a clearing. She was anxious to get Ray on board. He was a mass of injuries, from the bandage wrapped around his skull to the way he dragged his leg.

They could feel the wind from the rotors when Lewis jerked to a stop. She grabbed the edge of his shirt and shook him. The helicopter motor drowned all the sounds around them. He continued staring at his feet. She shook him again and pointed.

At first he saw nothing but a dirty gray wolf rushing at him. Then through the noise and the dust there was Benton Fraser walking towards him. Ray took one step before the world sank into darkness around him.

Several hours later, Kowalski blinked himself awake in a quiet and dimly lit room. He recognized the antiseptic smell, the rough sheets and the soft glow of lights from just beyond the doorway. He felt warm for the first time in days. He didn't hurt although his head felt muddled enough to suggest drugs were the reason. He noticed his leg was elevated.

A shadow towards the door caught his attention. He couldn't move, couldn't smile or cry, he was frozen. The trance was broken by the sound of his lover's voice.

"Ray, you're awake. I wanted to be here when you woke." Ben came in and poured water into a plastic cup. He held it to Ray's lips. He gulped a few swallows down, then regretted it when his stomach recoiled. Ben saw him pale and quickly took the cup away. He rubbed his hand in soft circles over Ray's belly to calm him. The nausea only lasted a moment before he was settled again.

"Feel better?" He nodded. "I'm sorry you woke alone."

"S'okay. Yer not dead."

"So I can do anything I want as long as I'm alive?" Fraser teased.

"Yep. Anything."

"Like this?" Fraser kissed him, softly, slowly, savoring the taste. Ray deepened it, burying his hands in his lover's soft hair. When they separated, both were breathless.

"How long I gotta stay here?"

"Until tomorrow."

"Too long."

"It's one night, Ray. Then we have forever."

"No, we have right now." He looked towards the open door. "Forever's somethin' we hope for."

Ben sat on the edge of the bed. He took Ray's hand, massaging the fingers slowly.

"Agent Lewis said that you thought I was killed."

Ray closed his eyes against the threat of tears.

"That bastard Wilkes. Said it was cuz I told his kid what he did to me."

"Ray, please look at me." He sighed as he opened his eyes. Fraser reached out to brush his cheek.

"They didn't hurt me."

"Where were ya?"

"Ezra locked me in the cellar beneath the kitchen. It took quite some time to gain attention with all of the confusion inside the house."

"You hear the gunshot?"

"I was with Ezra when he fired into the woods. I had no idea that the sound was used to terrorize you."

"Did Lewis tell ya I freaked out?"

"She said you were in shock. The doctors confirmed it."

"When she found me, I thought it was Wilkes, ya know? Finishin' the job. I didn't care. I just wanted t'be with you."

"Your body took a great deal of abuse, Ray. Your mind couldn't keep up. Despair was a natural reaction. The shock was a way of protecting yourself."

Ray decided not to argue. In this one thing, Fraser was wrong. If his Mountie had died at that cabin, Ray would have taken his gun and followed as soon as possible. The thought sent a shock of sadness through him and he couldn't stop the tears from slipping out this time.

"It's all right," Ben whispered, drawing him close, brushing his lips against Ray's mouth, across his cheeks, down his throat. "We're all right." Ray wrapped his arms around him, cuddling to his chest.

A few minutes later, after he calmed, Ray leaned back in the bed.

"Well, that was real manly," he joked.

"Would you like to talk to someone?" Ben asked, seriously.

"Yeah, I wanna talk t'you."

"I mean a professional."

"I know what ya meant. I don't wanna talk to a stranger. You'll listen to me, won't ya?"

"Of course, Ray. But, perhaps someone from the outside would take a different viewpoint. Be more objective."

"What're they gonna tell me, Fraser? That I asked for it? That I screwed up?"

"No, of course..."

"Then, what? Maybe ole Wilkes was right on the money. Maybe I should be willin' t'sacrifice myself for his revenge. Ya think that's what they'll say?"

"A counselor would reinforce that you are not to blame. You know that."

"That's right, I do know that. An' so do you, so wha' do I need an outsider for? If I start t'have doubts, I'll tell you an' you'll tell me I'm wrong an' you'll tell me we're okay an' I'll believe you. Why would I need someone else for that?"

"There's more to counseling than..."

"I don't think there is. Look, let's just do it my way for now. If I need somethin' else, we can do it later, all right?" Ben stared at his partner for several seconds, until Ray shifted uncomfortably, "All right?" he repeated.

"As you wish."

"Thank you. Now, uh, why am I here for the night?"

"You have a concussion. And they want to keep your leg elevated until some of the swelling goes down from the torn muscle."

"What about my dick?" He looked away with an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry." When he looked back, Ben was grinning as well.

"You'll be fine. I'm afraid it will take several days for the bruising and abrasions to heal."

"I guess we'll have t'be good, huh?"

"Yes, I believe we will."

"Ya know, you're the only one that can embarrass me like that. I can say 'dick' t'anybody but you. Not sure if that's good or bad." Ben didn't have a response so he stayed quiet. "It's prob'ly cuz yer so proper about everything."

"Perhaps," Ben agreed. Ray yawned and scooted down in the bed.

"You stayin' awhile?"

"As you long as you'd like me to."

"Just 'til I go t'sleep, okay?"

"Yes." Ben put his hand over Ray's forehead and rubbed softly with his thumb.

"Oh...wait...what about Sara?"

"She has been transferred to juvenile hall. She'll likely remain there until the State's Attorney sorts out the charges against the family."

"We gotta help her, okay?"

"We'll do what we can, Ray. Why don't you sleep now."

"You gonna stay?"

"All night, if you'd like."

"Ya don' mind?"

"I can sleep when you come home. I sleep better when you're with me."

"'Kay. Thanks."

Ray closed his eyes. The gentle brush of Fraser's thumb lulled him softly. He sighed, feeling content and safe as he surrendered to sleep.