Disclaimer: Children, what are you doing in here? This terrible story features angst, demons, angels, and some messy violence. If you don’t like that sort of stuff, or know you are too young for it, please go away.
Oh, and I don’t claim to own Ray (Kowalski or Vecchio), Diefenbaker, or Benton Fraser, or any of the other recognizable characters; I’m just borrowing them for a little storytelling. They are all owned by Alliance Productions, and they can have them back when I’m done. I do however, own most of the other named characters, and those who are desperate to know how the angels and demons got in here are respectfully pointed to Steve Jackson Games. I promise not to do any permanent damage to the people I don’t own, but everyone else is fair game. I do, however, promise to abuse my overactive sexual imagination. Enjoy.
Comments go to the address above. For those who have read my Demons Sentinel slash series, this is part One of “that mess in Chicago” that Mason was griping about in “Fallen Angel.”
“And life continues.... And as for Ray, or should I say, Stanley Kowalski, Sergeant Frobisher geared us up with tack and tallow, and led by Diefenbaker, we set off, Ray and I. We set off on an adventure. And when we looked below, he saluted.
“Sergeant Frobisher saluted. And I saluted back.
“And off we went. To find the hand of Franklin, reaching for the Beaufort Sea. And if we do find his hand, the reaching out one, we’ll let you know.”
— “Call of the Wild, Part II,” due South
“The fire seems to be going well.”
“Of course it is, Fraser. You built it.”
“Oh.” Fraser looked a little flustered. “Stan - Ray?” The other man shrugged. “Ray, I wanted to ask you something. Specifically, I wanted to address the issue of our...relationship. While you may have noted that my attachments to women have been both few and far between, I have oftentimes wondered it you understood that my main attraction was not to the sex of the person, but to the person inside.”
Before Fraser could continue the speech that he had obviously memorized and practiced, Ray interrupted. “Yes, Fraser, I like you. It’s okay.”
“You - you knew?” Fraser stared into his partner’s deep green eyes in shock. “How did you know?”
“Fraser, I just abandoned civilization for you. We’re a million miles from nowhere, crossing the icy tundra with only each other to depend on and you wanna know how I knew?” grinned Stanley Kowalski.
“Well, when you put it that way.... I just - I never felt that you understood, or returned my fledgling affections.”
“Well, that and the hard-on you’ve been fighting down for the last hour. And if that thing down the front of your pants is any indication, your affection for me isn’t what I’d call ‘fledgling.’” Stan’s lopsided grin was somehow sad, and suddenly, Fraser was suddenly very scared. He couldn’t name the terror that had taken over him, he just knew it was there, as real as the glittering ice and the night sky outside the small cabin.
“C’mon, Fraser, it’s the nineties. I went through all this in college already. I’m not gonna freak ‘cause my best friend wants me. I’m open to that side of it. And I like you. Personally. Well, I more than like you. You saved my life. You saved my soul. You’re Canadian.”
“Really? You - you like me? You - what does being Canadian have to do with it?”
“Nothing. Just sit down, there’s something we have to talk about.”
Fraser sat down next to Ray, who was huddled beneath his comforter in front of the fire. “What - what is it, Ray?”
Ray sighed, trying to find the right words for the terrible truth. Diefenbaker crossed the room, and sat down on Ray’s toes, and wagged his tail as if in encouragement. “I - I, uh, I’ve been sick all my life. I was born with hemophilia - you know, it takes me longer to stop bleeding than a normal person would and all that. Earlier this year, I - uh - I tested positive for HIV.” Ray stared into the fire as he spoke. He didn’t see the shock sweep across Fraser’s face. “I care about you, Fraser. Too much to risk your life by having anything like a physical relationship with you.”
“I - ” Words failed Fraser, and he tightened his jaw against the flood of tears that threatened him. In a moment, he felt calmer and tried again. “You let me hit you. Twice.”
Ray grinned weakly at the memory of their various disputes. “Yeah, well, if I’d known how hard you were going to hit me, I wouldn’t have.”
“Oh, Ray - ”
“It was a joke,” said Ray wearily. “Laugh, Fraser.”
Fraser was silent. He was fighting back tears again. Finally, he said, “There’s a French colloquialism referring to that pause in conversation - ‘pas d’ange.’ It means, ‘an angel is passing,’ and they say it when the silence is too deep for any other explanation.”
“Pas d’ange?” whispered Ray. He was crying softly, still staring into the fire that Fraser had built.
“An angel is passing through,” agreed Fraser, and he moved closer to Ray and wrapped his arms around the other man as if he could protect him from all the dangers of the world. Ray leaned back against him. Neither man spoke for a long time.
“It’s nice out here. I’m glad I came.”
“Ray, we’re miles away from the nearest hospital. What if - shouldn’t you be nearer to civilization?” asked Fraser worriedly. “What are you doing out here?”
Ray sighed heavily. “I’m out here because I wanted to tell you all this without being interrupted by lunatics with bombs and Francesca and Vecchio and all the rest of it. I’m out here because I love you, you idiot.”
Fraser stared at him. “You - I - oh, Ray. I love you,” he said gently. “I love you, but you don’t belong out here.”
“I made it out here just fine,” said Ray stubbornly. “Nothing’s happened to me yet, Fraser. Welsh gave me time off, and I don’t want to waste it by myself at home.”
More than anything, Fraser wanted to stay out here with Ray forever, searching for the Hand of Franklin. But he knew his duty, and he knew that he would do it. “A week, Ray. Then we go back.”
You knew, didn’t you? You knew all along.
Of course. I’m his other best friend. I’m his confessor. He tells me everything.
And you didn’t even - you never warned me? Not even a hint?
I told you to keep him safe. To protect him. How was I to know you were the danger?
I’ll never understand you.
Don’t let that keep you from trying.
“You really miss riding with him, don’t you?”
Fraser smiled apologetically at his partner. “I’m sorry, Ray. I just worry about him when I can’t see him.”
“You should, that guy’s the biggest klutz I’ve ever seen. I’m still undoing the damage he did to my reputation while I was gone.”
“Really, Ray.” The warning in Fraser’s voice was soft, but unmistakable.
Raymond Vecchio quickly changed the subject. “All right, so we’ve got a bunch of Russian goons who think they’re bad boys muscling in on the territory. Without Zuko, there’s a lot of power up for grabs, and they’re grabbing. Now, if only they spoke English, or Italian, like civilized mobsters, this would be easier.”
The two were sitting in Ray’s latest incarnation of his beloved Riviera, with a group of uniformed officers, outside ‘Pa’Russe.’ Ostensibly, ‘Pa’Russe’ was a nightclub; but during the day, it got a fair amount of traffic that would interest the Chicago Police Department. Today’s bust was on charges of prostitution and forced labor. A bevy of blonde and redheaded beauties had already been bustled away, and now the officers were waiting for a translator to arrive so that they could complete the arrest of the two nightclub owners.
“Where is he, anyway?” muttered Vecchio.
“Lieutenant Welsh and Detective Kowalski will be here,” said Fraser calmly, but he was also looking expectantly down the road, waiting for them to appear. The recent developments had made Ray Kowalski, who was fluent in Polish and Russian, an extremely valuable part of District 27. Welsh had fought hard to keep Ray Kowalski in his unit, and as of today, Ray was officially a Detective, First Grade in the Area 7 Detective Division.
Finally, Welsh’s old Buick turned the corner. Welsh stopped in front of the nightclub, and Ray got out. “I’m going to park, I’ll be right back,” Welsh called from the car.
“Understood,” answered Fraser. He walked out to meet Ray, who only grinned and showed off his new badge. It had his name on it, his real name, and his new rank and number. Vecchio joined them, walking next to Fraser as they approached the men they were waiting to arrest.
“Read ‘em their rights, Kowalski, and tell ‘em we’re going to search the place.”
Ray started talking. Fraser watched him talk to the nightclub owners, who were clearly quite pleased to meet someone else they could talk to. At one point in the conversation, Ray laughed, and shook his head. Vecchio shifted his weight impatiently, and Ray quickly brought the discussion to an end. “All right, they understand they’re under arrest. Their attorney will be here in a minute, and they want you to wait for him before you start searching. They think you might plant something. They mentioned something about ‘Kruger,’ does that mean anything to you?”
Vecchio’s jaw dropped in surprise. “They said what? You tell those - ”
“Ray,” Fraser admonished gently, and nudged his partner. “Let it go.”
One of the men from the nightclub smiled, and said something in what sounded like Russian.
Ray Kowalski frowned, and replied. He seemed annoyed.
“What’d he say?” demanded Vecchio. “More about Kruger? That was a set-up, and everybody knows it.”
“Nah, he’s just being a jerk. Forget it.”
“Was that Russian?” asked Fraser curiously. He had a good ear for languages.
“Polish. I told you, he’s being a jerk.”
“What is he saying?”
“He’s trying to bribe me.”
Fraser stared at the man who was still looking at Ray with marked interest. “Bribe you?” he repeated.
“Drop it, Fraser.”
Lieutenant Welsh walked up to the group. “How’s it look?”
“They want their lawyer to escort us through the club,” Vecchio reported.
“Is he on his way?” Welsh aked. Ray nodded. “Then we wait. While we wait, I want the men to check around the back entrance. Don’t go in, but if you see anything, I mean anything that doesn’t look right, I wanna know about it,” Welsh ordered. The uniforms paired off and left. “Do we got names for these goons?”
“Viktor Mievetsky and Anton Krassovich, meet Lieutenant Welsh,” said Ray once in English, and then again in Russian.
The two men nodded, and the one who had been staring at Ray, Anton, actually extended his hand. Welsh looked at the proffered hand as if it were something unpleasant that he had found on the bottom of his shoe.
Anton withdrew his hand with an offended huff, then said something to his partner. Ray replied calmly, but whatever he said was apparently offensive enough to make Anton turn and punch Ray in the face.
He moved quickly, before even Fraser could stop him. Ray stumbled backwards, clutching his nose which was now bleeding freely. Welsh and Fraser were on him immediately afterwards; Fraser held him still while Welsh twisted Anton’s arms behind his back and cuffed him.
“I got him,” said Welsh, and dragged Anton, who made no protest, over to a police car.
Fraser turned back to Ray. “Are you all right? Call an ambulance,” he ordered. He tried to help Ray, but Ray waved him away.
Vecchio stared at him. “It’s a nosebleed, Fraser. He’s not gonna die.”
“Just call,” ordered Fraser tightly. He helped Ray sit down on the curb, and handed him his handkerchief. Ray wiped his bloody hands on his shirt before accepting.
Finally realizing that Fraser was serious, Vecchio called for an emergency unit. Diefenbaker lept out of the Riveria, and raced over to sit down next to Ray.
Help him.
I’m doing everything I can.
I don’t want him to die.
You know the rules. You know them better than I do. You actually listen to them.
Don’t let him die.
Hey, it’s not up to me. But ... I’ll see what I can do.
Fraser walked up to the trailer, and knocked on the door. Barbara, Ray’s mother answered. “Good morning, Mrs. Kowalski. I just stopped by to see how Ray was doing.”
Barbara smiled sweetly. “Oh, come in, Fraser.” She waved him in, and he entered. “I was just putting together some things for him. He’s going back to his apartment as soon as he and Damian finish with the car.”
“And how is Mr. Kowalski?” asked Fraser politely. He liked visiting Ray’s parents. They were wonderful people, and their trailer was very much a home, despite its size.
“He’s fine. He worries about Ray, of course, and so do I.” Barbara sighed, and looked at the box that she was packing. “I think that’s all I can fit in this one.” She reached for the tape, and Fraser went to help her.
“Allow me.”
“Thank you,” she smiled. “And, I never got to thank you for bringing him back. When he called and told us that the two of you were going on an adventure, I wasn’t sure...” Barbara choked down her tears. “Well, anyway, thank you for bringing him back.”
Fraser nodded slowly. “He’s told you, then? About us? And everything else?”
“Yes, of course,” said Barbara with a wry laugh. “Sometimes, I wish he hadn’t. I mean, if he had you, why’d he go out and meet that man? It just seems so unfair.”
“What?” said Fraser blankly.
“That man - he never told you what happened? How he got ... sick?”
Fraser thought about it. “Not exactly, no.”
Barbara stared at him for a moment. “Maybe you should ask him, then. I don’t know what to tell you.”
Understanding started to dawn on Fraser. “Do you think it would be all right if I went out back?” he asked quietly. “Just to let him know I’m here?”
Barbara frowned, then smiled sadly. “Maybe I should go tell him. You wait here.”
Fraser nodded, and watched her leave through the back door of the trailer. Suddenly the room was too small, and Fraser had to leave. He went outside, and sat on the front steps. A cold, white fury ripped through him, but Fraser fought it down. Dief trotted up to him and sat down a safe distance away from Fraser. “You knew, didn’t you?” he said bitterly.
“Hey, Fraser,” said Ray. He stepped lightly over Fraser, and jumped down the last step to stand next to Fraser. “Thanks for stopping by. What’s up?”
Fraser looked up at him. His eyes held no secrets; the pain in their blue depths was obvious. “What happened? Please, Ray, just tell me what happened.”
Ray looked away for a second, then sat down in the grass next to Fraser’s feet. Dief moved to sit next to Ray, with his head in Ray’s lap. Ray played his fingers in Diefenbaker’s fur. “It’s pretty simple, really. I went to a nightclub, you know. To do some dancing, whatever. I met this guy. He bought me a drink, and I drank it. The next thing I knew, I was in the ER.” He pulled his hands away from Diefenbaker, and crossed them over his chest, huddling defensively. “They’d just done a transfusion, to save my life. They’d taken blood for an HIV test when I came in. I guess it was pretty obvious what’d happened. The test came back positive. They checked again, and then to make sure it wasn’t the transfusion.”
“What did you do?”
“What? To the guy? I found him again at the nightclub and told him I was positive.” Fraser stared at Ray in disbelief. “What did you expect me to do, Fraser? Arrest him for rape? Sue him? I have a life, and I wanna keep living it, for as long as I can!” Ray’s anger was real, and Fraser knew that it wasn’t really directed at him.
“I know. I - no, of course you ...” Fraser let the sentence trail away uselessly. “When did it happen?”
Ray shrugged, as if the whole incident were unimportant. “After that whole Beth Botrelle thing.”
“After you dropped me off at the Consulate. You didn’t go home.”
Ray shook his head. “I didn’t want to be alone,” he whispered angrily. “I was so sick and tired of being alone.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” demanded Fraser. “Why do you keep hiding from me?”
“I’m sorry,” Ray looked lost. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Fraser, I never do, but.... Maybe we just shouldn’t bother,” said Ray helplessly.
“Don’t leave me.” That was all Fraser could say.
Ray shook his head. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Please, Ray,” Fraser begged. “Don’t leave me.”
Ray sighed. “I don’t wanna keep hurting you, Fraser.”
“I don’t want you to be alone. I don’t want to be alone. Not now, not after everything that’s happened between us.”
That made Ray laugh. “What’s happened between us, Fraser? A whole lotta nothing.”
“You’re wrong.” More than anything, he wanted to close the few inches that separated him from Ray with a kiss. But he knew that Ray would never allow it, not now. “Everything, Ray. You’re everything.”
Ray looked up at Fraser, almost shyly. Their eyes met, sea-green to sky-blue. Ray nodded. “Yeah. Everything.”
I remember that night. I remember watching him cry. I remember watching his shoulders start to shake, I remember him sobbing against the steering wheel until I pulled him into my arms where his tears slowly faded away. His tears were warm against the serge of my uniform, and they disappeared into the fabric, just as his misery disappeared into me. I remember praying that he would be all right.
Prayers aren’t always answered.
How can he be dying? Look at him. Graceful. Beautiful. Fragile. I would do anything for him.
Careful.
I can’t let him die.
Fraser, be careful.
I can’t. I have to save him. There has to be a way.
Fraser, stop!
I know a way.
Fraser walked into the nightclub. Dief was in Ray’s apartment. He had stubbornly refused to accompany Fraser to this meeting, or even speak to him after Fraser had agreed to meet with the stranger.
But Fraser didn’t let that stop him. He knew it was wrong, just looking at the people in this place told him that he shouldn’t be here. Darkness clung to them like needy children, and Fraser stood out more than usual.
A plain-looking man that Fraser hadn’t noticed at first came up to him. “This way, if you please.”
Fraser looked at him, not just with his eyes. The plainness was a thin mask over a soul of darkest evil, his humanity a costume. The man smiled politely, but to Fraser, his full lips hid the curving fangs of a demon. He started walking away, and Fraser reluctantly followed him deeper into the club.
They walked up a rickety set of stairs to a gloomy gallery that overlooked the dance floor below. Fraser looked down at the mass of people, flowing and throbbing to the pulse of the music, a living organism entirely unaware that it was corrupted by monsters masquerading as one of their own.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Fraser turned. The plain man had receded quietly into the background, and his master had walked up to meet Fraser. He was about Fraser’s height, with dark brown hair that brushed the tops of his shoulder, dark skin, and eyes were a startling silvery-blue. “Where’s your friend?” His voice was softly accented, with a musical lilt. Fraser sensed that he turned it to his advantage whenever possible.
Fraser didn’t know if the man was talking about Dief or Ray, and didn’t much care. “He couldn’t make it.”
“And the other? Not too sick, I hope?”
“He’s fine.” But Fraser’s voice betrayed him, shaking slightly at the thought of Ray as he had seen him the day before, pale and shaking as his nose kept bleeding on the way to the hospital.
The demon smiled. For a moment, Fraser could see him as he really was. He had the same eyes, only more alluring set in the coldly perfect face; with tiny, ivory horns and fangs, and huge black, feathered wings that swept up and curved over his head like an angel’s would. “I know your kind. You are a warrior, a guardian. But you can’t do anything to help him, can you? You could have saved him at the time, but now that it’s already happened, there’s nothing you can do.”
Fraser nodded without answering. He glanced down into the crowd, unable to meet the demon’s eyes.
“And you know my kind, don’t you? A seducer. But I used to be a protector. I still know how to heal.”
“But you can’t heal him. That would be too much, even for you. No one is allowed any miracles anymore.”
The demon nodded. “No miracles. Just make it take a very long time for anything to happen. The new therapies work best on people who are already in good health. I can delay onset, and make him ... receptive to whatever new drugs humans come out with. That leaves you with just ... maintenance.” The demon smiled.
Fraser finally looked at him. “And what do you want from me?”
“I’m looking for someone, one of your kind, as it happens. Another guardian, named Teresias. At one time, he was the Guardian of the Western Gate.”
“Why?” asked Fraser quietly. He already knew he was going to refuse the demon, but now he wanted to know what was going on.
“Honestly? None of your fucking business,” said the demon pleasantly. “Do we have a deal or not?”
“No.”
The demon sighed. “You’re not being very sensible. Who else are you going to find to help him?”
“I don’t know,” Fraser admitted, “but I know I can’t trust you.”
The demon rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll be here if you change your mind.”
Fraser turned and left the nightclub. He walked all the way back to Ray’s apartment, but when he got to the door, he couldn’t make himself go in. He needed to be alone.
Fraser went up to the roof of the building. He sat down in the shadow of the wall, huddled really, trying to make himself invisible to the world. For the first time in a long time, he missed his father’s counsel. He wanted someone to talk to.
But he was alone.
Fraser dropped his head into his hands, and began to cry, very very quietly, into the night.
Next up: The Head of a Pin