Category: drama

Warnings: angst

Rating: R (it's kind of gross)

Notes and Synopsis: PJ requested a sequel to my story Flesh is Stronger to Reason', so, of course, I had to deliver. This picks up about an hour after the conclusion of Flesh' and will make no sense whatsoever unless you've read it.

Where Blood is Weaker Than Fire and Demons Fear to Tread

by: Marie-Andrée

www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/Network/9492 uskeba@hotmail.com

Welsh came up from the morgue, shaken by what he had seen. He was relieved that he was able to spare Ray at least that much torment. As he came into the squad room, Welsh saw that Ray was still slumped over his desk, a shadow of the man who had bounced back into his life so enthusiastically. He went up to him and carefully placed a hand on the Detective's shoulder. Ray jumped.

"Oh, Lieu, it's you." Ray's eyes were red rimmed from heavy weeping.

"Yes." What could Welsh say to him? Fraser had died so that Ray could live.

"Was it really him?"

Welsh nodded. "Yes, it was." A well seasoned officer who had seen more than his share of atrocities, Welsh would be hard pressed to forget the blue tinge of Fraser's skin, the lifeless gaze in his eyes, the bruises marring his skin, the bones broken at disturbing angles...

"How did he die?" Ray could not explain to himself why he felt such a morbid curiosity, but, for some reason, he had to know.

"You don't need to know, Ray."

"Tell me!"

Welsh nodded and took a deep breath. "He jumped from a bedroom window."

Ray closed his eyes. "Did he suffer?"

Of course he did! He let Zuko rape the very life out of him! "No. Dr. Pearson assured me that death was instantaneous."

Relieved, Ray put his head in his hands. "Thanks, Lieu."

"Why don't you go home, Ray? Your family wants to see you. We can finish this later."

Ray shook his head. "I promised St. Laurent I'd talk with her."

The said States Attorney chose that moment to come out of interrogation room one where she had been conferring with colleagues as to the matter in which Zuko and his men should be brought down. She came up to Ray, ignoring Welsh's look which plainly said This man is in no condition to be harassed.'

"Ray?" she said softly. He looked up. "I'm sorry about Fraser."

Ray swallowed. "Thank you."

"Are you up to this?"

Ray nodded. "No. But let's do it." St. Laurent took the chair Welsh offered her and sat down.

"How did you get the information?"

"It was sitting on my desk this morning."

"Do you know who it is from?"

"Yes, Fraser."

"You know this because..."

"Of his handwriting.

"Are you certain that this is his handwriting?" St. Laurent held up the envelope.

Ray nodded. "Yeah. He has, had, a weird way of writing the letter R', it's like he's stabbing it." St. Laurent examined the writing on the envelope.

"You're right," she said, sounding a little surprised. "Almost doesn't fit his personality." Almost. "Well, Constable Fraser spent something like a week with Zuko, during which time he gathered evidence indicting Zuko for criminal activities." St. Laurent shook her head. "I'm sending a force over to his place to bring him and his goons down. Wow. I would have never thought that it would be *Fraser* who would finally give us what we need to arrest Zuko."

"That's why Benny's dead," Ray said bitterly. "We never saw that he hated Zuko too, that he was just as afraid of him as any of us.

St. Laurent nodded. "I... I'm not denying that I am partially to be blamed for the outcome of this case, Ray."

Ray looked up at his rival, tears welling up in his soulful green eyes. "Thank you, Louise, you don't know what that means to me.
It felt good to be home. As he stood under a torrent of too hot water in the shower, Ray allowed himself to think of the circumstances of Fraser's death.

All because of Victoria. She had done things to Benny which had made Ray put so much on the line for him.

Dammit! Would that bitch haunt his life for ever?

Fraser had been wrong; while sacrifice was not a measurable thing, Fraser had given up too much in order to save Ray.

How dared Zuko to have preyed upon that guilt everyone still saw in the Mountie's eyes? How dared he rape that innocent soul until its once fertile landscape was as barren and scorched as that of Satan himself?

As the hot water burned his flesh, Ray could feel the fires of the eternal Hell searing his very soul. There was only one way to quench this inferno within him; a way which would cost him his life, but which would finally liberate his conscience.

Zuko would die knowing pain.

His mind set, Ray allowed his mother to coddle him one last time before heading back to the precinct with some supplies. He had done this before to a lesser scale, and he could do this now. He prayed to his God for fortitude and the will to carry out his act. And he spoke to the spirit of the Mountie he felt around him, begging Fraser to not try to convince him to act otherwise.

"What are you doing here, Vecchio?" Welsh greeted him. "Go home, there's nothing you can do here."

Ray shook his head. "There is. Has Zuko been brought in yet?"

Welsh sensed trouble. "No, he hasn't. Ray... there's nothing you can do. Let the law handle this."

"The law! How the hell does the law punish someone for corrupting the innocent? For damning someone to Hell?!"

Welsh hung his head for a moment. "There was a time when they would have burned such a person, but today there is a thing called justice. Zuko will never again breathe free air."

Ray shrugged. "That's not good enough for me, Lieu."

"What are you planning, Vecchio?"

Ray smiled. "I'm going to end this thing."

Soon, the twenty-seventh precinct was full of the sound of commotion, of men screaming for their lawyers, and of cops trying to restrain them.

The raid on Zuko and his men had been successful, and the said mobster was brought upstairs for questioning.

Welsh was unsuccessful in stopping Ray from running to his arch enemy and standing square in his path.

"Vecchio!" Welsh screamed from across the Bullpen.

Ray heard nothing but the torrent of blood rushing in his head. He eyed Zuko who had the audacity to sneer at him. "I have nothing to say to you." Ray turned his attention to the uniformed officer guarding Zuko. "Step aside."

"Vecchio!" Welsh yelled again, running as quickly as he could across the Bullpen, but not in time to prevent Ray from dumping a whole tank of gasoline over Zuko's head.

Welsh wasn't stupid. It was over. It was up to him how many died.

Vecchio lit a match and suddenly Zuko wasn't quite so smug anymore.

"Ray, don't do something you'll regret," Welsh pleaded.

Vecchio answered his superior officer without turning his gaze back to Zuko. "You have one minute to empty this building."

"Ray!"

Ray dropped the match into the pool of gasoline at Zuko's feet and the man was quickly engulfed in flames.

As his hair melted and his features became distorted, Zuko's screams echoed. They were the screams of the soulless, of one who knew himself to be damned to Hell.

The fire spread quickly through the rapidly emptying precinct, consuming law' and justice' with each greedy lick of its powerful tongue.

And Ray stood amidst all this, silent in the face of the agonizing physical pain he felt. The pain that had been searing his soul had faded to be replaced with a soothing serenity which blocked out everything else.

Zuko died very quickly, writhing and screaming until the last possible second when he was charred beyond recognition and his being was reduced to ash.

As for Ray, he followed the dark haired angel who held out a hand to guide him across the flames to the better place where blood is weaker than fire and demons fear to tread.