Rating/Warning: R. Bad language. Slash. That's not new, is it?
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Disclaimer: They're not mine.
Spoilers: yes.
Summary: Things have to get worse before they can get better.
Notes: I want to thank *everyone* who has written to me. I have received some of the most incredible e-mails about this series. I know how shocking some of it must have been, how heartbraking... they're bruised and battered, I know. My apologies go out to all Kowalski fans who have read this, and are actually still reading. Thank you *everyone* for sticking through this. It's in the home stretch!
Anyone who wants to see the title graphic-thingy I made for "Victims of Love" check right here :)

*ahem* You know what to do ;)

UNRESOLVED - July, 2000
by Ashinae

"I know, Benny."

My head snaps up and I look at Ray with wide eyes. He did not just say that. He couldn't have said that. There is no way he could have known what I was saying, what I'm thinking--

He knows. My God, he knows. How? How--

Ray Kowalski.

Oh God, no!

Ray closes his eyes and puts his elbows on his knees, lowering his head and looking at his hands.

There is a very long silence. This was a bad choice--to decide to tell him now, but waiting until after dinner would have made it all worse. I don't know what to do now.

He says something, so softly that it barely breaks through my thoughts and I don't really hear it.

"Ray?" I ask cautiously.

His head raises and he looks at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Get out, Fraser," he says.

"Ray, please--"

He jumps to his feet. "Get out!" he shouts. "Get out of my house! I can't believe this! I thought you *loved* me! I thought I could *trust* you. You waited ten *fucking* years for... for *her* and you can't wait thirteen *months* for me? I thought you were better than that, Fraser! I thought we were forever. Do you know what that means? *Forever* means life, it means commitment, because I thought we could do that, I thought we had something special, but I guess I'm wrong! A cute little blond comes along and bats his eyelashes at you and you can't fucking say *no* to him? Was it like it was with us? Was it? Hearts and flowers and breakfasts in bed?"

I'm sitting there like an idiot, staring up at him, his eyes filled with betrayal and anger. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides and I think I'm going to cry again. I force myself to get to my feet. "No, Ray," I say softly. "It wasn't like it was between us at all." I pause for a long time. I need to tell him. I can't keep it a secret. I have a very good reason to believe Ray Kowalski did *not* tell my Ray--though he's obviously not my Ray anymore--the truth.

"I raped him, Ray."

He stares at me, in complete shock. I stare back, ready to take... anything.

"I don't believe that," he says finally. "You... you wouldn't."

"I did."

My God. I did. I...

"No, Fraser."

"You weren't there."

"Then tell me what the fuck happened!"

I look away from him. "I was... at his apartment. He suddenly asked if--if I missed you, and I told him I did. He... made advances--he made several advances while you were gone. I told him no, I told him no every time, and I don't know why--" I take a deep breath. "I don't know what I was thinking. I *wasn't* thinking. I stopped thinking entirely. He took me to his bedroom and I--I forced myself on him. He--I went too fast for him, I suppose... I know I hurt him."

Ray's entire body seems to collapse and he lowers himself back down onto the coffee table. "Did he say no to you, Fraser?"

I pause. "No, he didn't," I say finally.

"If he had said no, would you have stopped?"

Another pause. "I don't know," I admit.

He doesn't say anything, and looks away from me. I sigh softly, then pick my Stetson up from the couch and head for the stairs. Half of me expects him to stop me--wants him to--but the other half knows he won't. I climb up the stairs, and ignore Francesca's protestations as I leave the house.

Frannie and Ma don't say anything as I come out of the basement alone. I'm gonna guess they saw Benny leave. They don't say much to me at all, actually, all through dinner. They probably heard me shouting at Benny, though I hope to God they couldn't make out what I was saying. I can't seem to make myself eat much, and I feel bad about the leftovers. After I've eaten, I kiss them both on the forehead and excuse myself, telling them I'm really tired and I head up to my room.

Fuck it all.

Is this it? Is it all over, before it even really got to begin?

What is there for me if there isn't Benny? I know him--even if I do forgive him, he'll never forgive himself. He honestly really believes he raped Kowalski. I know I wasn't there, but...

Kowalski sure as hell seemed *proud* to have been with Fraser. There doesn't seem like much of a chance that he's gonna press charges or anything. He *should* know better, and if he felt like he'd been assaulted, he would have said so already.

I hate him. I hate him for doing this to us. For getting in between us. Couldn't he have just done his job, pretended to be me when they were working, then stay away from my Mountie?

*He's not your Mountie anymore,* an evil little voice says in the back of my mind. *They both made sure of that already.*

"Go to hell!" I shout, then shake my head and sigh. Numbly, I get ready for bed--it's only, shit, six-thirty--and I just collapse. I lie there for a long time, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think.

Damn him.

Damn them both.

I've royally fucked up three lives.

Good job, Kowalski. Well done. Bravo. And, for an encore, what're ya gonna do? Shoot the wolf?

I'm sitting alone in my dark apartment--nothing new there--and I feel like such an asshole. I *am* an asshole. This isn't *me* and I don't know how to tell Fraser that. I *can't* tell Fraser that. He's not gonna wanna see me, cause there's no way he and Vecchio didn't talk about it.

I admit it: I feel guilty.

I sigh and get up, turn on the light, and look around. This is all I have. My CDs, some furniture, the turtle...

I coulda had something with Fraser. If not what I *really* wanted, I coulda been his friend. I shoulda been his friend. Everybody thinks we were close, all great and wonderful and working good together. We *were* good. We coulda been *great*, great friends.

Fuck it. What's done is done and I am such a fuck-up.

I hate them both.

I make up my mind real quick, grab my keys and my jacket and leave my apartment.

I almost don't hear the pounding on the Consulate doors. Sighing heavily, I leave my office and open the doors to find Ray--Stanley Kowalski--standing there, doing his best at looking miserable.

"I--I won't be long. Just wanna... say a few things," he mumbles.

I don't say anything. I don't move.

"Right, uh--" He glances down at his feet, then looks up at me. "I'm real sorry, Fraser. For everything. You had every right to do what you did and I don't blame you, it's my fault so don't you dare even blame yourself a bit. But you're you and you probably will so I don't know why I try sometimes." He stops and takes a breath. "Look, Fraser. You don't deserve anything I did to you, and I deserve everything you did to me. So I just wanted to say I'm sorry. And, uh... well, now that Vecchio's back I should be going. There's no way I'm gonna stick around here, it'll be too... too hard. So I'm gonna--go, I'm gonna go and work some stuff out and, I dunno what I'm gonna do after. I haven't seen my parents in a really long time, so I think I'll head out and see them. Uh--" He looks down again. Then he says very quietly, "I'm a prick. I hope you work things out with Vecchio. I'll, uh--Bye, Fraser. It's been different. I'm sorry I didn't take what I could get. Maybe I'll see ya again one day."

With that, he turns and walks back to his car. That took an incredible amount of courage, I give him that.

"Ray!" I call out. He half-turns to look at me. "Take care," I say.

"You too." I watch him drive away. There is no way I can really forgive him, and I honestly don't expect him to ever forgive me. We hurt each other terribly, were flung together in circumstances beyond our control and made each other miserable, as much as we were good at hiding it from everyone.

That chapter of my life is closed.

Now I have to move on.

Work things out with Ray Vecchio, if I can.

I don't know how to, if I can, ever, if he'll want me back--

I'm going to need help.