Author's Website: http://www.geocities.com/callinuk

Disclaimer: Due South and all of its characters belong to Alliance Communications.

Author's Notes:

Story Notes: Follows The Call, The Return, The Honeymoon and The Quarrel. A sad story so be warned.

With Diefenbaker at his side, Ray stood gazing out onto the vast expanse of snow that surrounded him, stretching out into infinity on all sides. A deafening silence seemed to encompass him threatening to swallow him up, and Ray felt alone in the deepest sense of the word; the only sounds being his own movements, his breathing, and the occasional soft woof from Diefenbaker.

An occasional gust of wind ruffled his blonde hair, and he shivered slightly shoving his hands into his pockets. Ray imagined that he could hear Fraser softly laughing, scolding him for not wearing his gloves or hat. Diefenbaker woofed, looking up at Ray nudging his legs with his nose.

Ray bent down and ruffled Diefenbaker's head and ears. The wolf whined licking at Ray's bare hand. "I know. I miss him too," Ray whispered as he straightened up to once again look across the vast whiteness of the land before him. Fraser had once told him that the Inuit called the arctic land Nunatsiaq, telling him that it meant beautiful land. "They were right," Ray stared into the distance over the smooth ice field. "It sure is beautiful out here. Just kinda wish ya were here with me. Not the same without ya Ben," he whispered into the vastness.

He choked back a sob as the now familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach welled up threatening to overwhelm him. Wrapping his arms around his body tightly, Ray hugged himself in an effort to stop the ache spreading within in, as he rocked back and forth slowly. Trying to distract himself, Ray looked upwards again tracing with his eyes the imaginary line where the heaven seemed to meet the earth. A stray memory flashed into his head, and Ray could almost hear their conversation, at the birthday party, after they had returned from the crypt, and he had dealt with Internal Affairs and the corruption charge against the real Ray Vecchio.

"Do you know Ray. My father once told me that the sky isn't just above you. That if you look at the horizon, you will see that it actually touches the ground. So if you think about it wherever you go, you are actually walking in the sky."

Ray smiled to himself at the memory; he had called Fraser a freak that day, but he had known even then that he could love this gentle man. It had taken them a while of dancing around their feelings and fears, but eventually they had shyly declared their love for each other. Since that day four years ago, they had never looked back, making a life with each other happy and content as their love strengthened and deepened by the day.

They had been so happy - who would have thought that a routine blood test at an annual RCMP medical would change their lives forever, cruelly snatching their happiness and future away. Fraser, always super fit and healthy, was sick with leukaemia. The doctors had given it some fancy medical name, but all Ray could think was that the disease was probably going to take Fraser away from him, and for a while he had been angry with everybody - the doctors, their friends, even Fraser, but mostly himself.

In the middle of an angry shouting fit, Fraser had pulled him into his arms hugging him hard telling him over and over that he wasn't dead yet and that they were going to fight the leukaemia. Ray had immediately felt guilty and had burst into tears that Fraser had tenderly kissed away as he caressed Ray's back calming him, grounding him with his gentle love.

The fight was on, and they had battled with the illness for over a year with Fraser enduring rounds of aggressive chemotherapy as the disease ravaged his body with as much dignity as he could muster. He lost weight, his clothes hanging loose on him, and his dark hair had fallen out in handfuls. Ray couldn't help feeling totally helpless - the only thing he could think of doing was to hold Fraser close to him, stroking his back gently when the pain became too unbearable. Ray remembered locking himself in the bathroom and crying until no more tears would come when Fraser had told him that his hugs and cuddles were the best medicine he could have and wish for, that they made him feel better.

Despite his sadness, Ray smiled as he thought back to the six months remission they had been granted from the seemingly relentless onslaught of the disease. They had crammed so much into that time desperate to do as much as they could before their time together ran out. They were the best six months of his life, filled with treasured memories that he would carry in his heart to his grave. Memories of Fraser and their travels all over Canada, Europe and the United States. Memories of dancing by candlelight, their bodies pressed close together, breathing in each other's scent, kissing softly lost in their love for one another. Memories of laying in Fraser's arms after their gentle and passionate love making. Memories of eating out, eating take-out in their apartment, long walks with Diefenbaker, and of just being together.

Gradually Fraser had begun to regain weight, the pallor from his face disappeared, and his hair grew back; he had even returned to his duties at the Consulate, and they had become hopeful for the future. Three more months passed, and although Fraser seemed to tire easily, he seemed to be generally well.

But just two and a half weeks ago, Fraser had began to suffer agonising pain in his back. Fraser had tried to shrug it off as nothing, but Ray had been persistent, and Fraser had finally admitted to having felt unwell for over a month saying that he hadn't wanted to worry him. Ray had been so angry, but the tears in Fraser's eyes had dissipated his fury almost immediately; instead he had held him tightly rocking him gently as though he was a child. Fraser had cried for the first time since he had become ill; trying to choke back his tears - between loud sniffs, hiccups and ragged breathing - Fraser had told Ray that he was afraid, that he hadn't wanted to worry him, and that most of all he didn't want to leave Ray, that he couldn't bear the thought of Ray being alone without him.

Ray had suppressed his own tears holding Fraser close until the storm died down. He had then taken a reluctant Fraser back to the hospital where he clung to Fraser's hand while he underwent two days of seemingly endless tests. Deep down, both had known, without the doctors saying a word, that Fraser's battle was coming to an end, that the cruel disease was stealing the love of his life away from him. The test results showed that the disease had taken a strong hold of Fraser's body once again. There was nothing more to be done, except give drug relief for the agonising pain that wracked his weakening body. Fraser's breathing had become laboured and difficult, and Ray couldn't bear to see him in such distress and pain. Neither Fraser or Ray wanted to prolong the pain or the inevitable, and despite the doctor's protests, they had both insisted that all of the machines and medication be removed and withdrawn.

Once alone, they had held each other close, not speaking, not needing words. Just content in their love, silence their best friend, luxuriating in their last few hours together.

Not caring what the nurses or doctors thought, Ray had climbed up onto the bed, sitting behind Fraser cradling him in his arms. Fraser was smiling up at him, but his own eyes had been blurred with tears as he clung to Fraser's hand sensing that Fraser's life force was slowly ebbing away with each ragged breath. Free of pain, free of machines and drugs. Free, as only Fraser should be. Free to join his father and mother.

"I love you Ray," were Fraser's last words. Ray had kissed his lips gently repeating the words back to him softly. Fraser had smiled up at him before closing his eyes with a final sigh, his hand slipping free of Ray's, as he descended into the peaceful and pain free oblivion of death. Ray had stayed cradling Fraser in his arms, gently caressing his cooling face until the nurses had come. Ray remembered snarling at the nurses not wanting to leave Fraser alone. Finally Lieutenant Welsh had been called, and he had persuaded Ray to leave with him.

Ray hadn't remembered much of the next few days; people had visited him but it had been like a blurry dream that he didn't feel part of, the pain of his loss numbing him to everything and everyone around him. He had nodded occasionally, but had spent his time staring out of the window across the city feeling lost, lonely and isolated, his memories of Fraser and their life together seeming to have disappeared. He couldn't eat, and he had trouble sleeping as he desperately tried to remember what Fraser looked like, afraid that he would never again see Fraser's face in his dreams.

Inspector Thatcher had insisted on arranging the funeral, a full RCMP affair, and had been quite angry when Ray had told her he wouldn't be attending. Ray had ignored the protests of his friends and colleagues - many of them had condemned them, behind their backs, for loving each other so how could they understand that he had made a promise to Fraser, one that he was going to keep, no matter what. Maggie and Buck were the only ones to understand, and Ray had a suspicion that Fraser had told them about their agreement before he had died.

Ray and Diefenbaker had spent the day of Fraser's funeral on top of the apartment building - a place where Fraser and Ray had spent many a happy hour wrapped in each other's arms, Fraser teaching Ray about the stars and pointing out the various constellations. Even though the funeral took place far across the city, Ray had felt so close to Fraser as he sat on the roof, Diefenbaker silent at his side, staring up into the clear blue sky.

As the sun began to set, his mind had suddenly been bombarded with memories of their time together, their promises to each other as they exchanged rings over the telephone because Fraser was attending a conference, their honeymoon in the hills, their laughter and love for one another; he even recalled their spectacular fights, and most of all Ray could see, in his mind's eye, Fraser's happy smiling face. As the memories burst forth unhindered, a peace and serenity settled over him. Ray had smiled to himself amazed that Fraser had known how he would be feeling - even nearing death, Fraser had been right about making Ray promise not to attend his funeral.

Ray shook his head bringing his mind back to the present, tears blurring his vision as he stared over the ice field. "God I miss ya," he whispered. "Why did ya have to go? I feel so alone without ya." He wiped at the tears with the back of his hand.

The minute he had crossed the border, Ray thought he had heard Fraser calling to him, but had dismissed it as a trick of his ears, his heart and the arctic wind. Buck had been a good friend to him, and brought him out to the ice field. Before leaving, Buck had helped him build a small stone Inuksuk which faced out over the ice field. Fraser had told him that Inuit hunters sometimes left a small Inuksuk for their loved ones which contained the spirits and souls of those gone. He knew he wasn't a hunter, but Ray wanted to leave a reminder of their love for each other, knowing in his heart that he would never come back to this place.

Ray couldn't bear to part with the plain gold bands they had exchanged on their first anniversary, having worn them together on his ring finger since Fraser's death. He had settled instead for leaving a feather from his dream catcher, a picture of them taken on a camping trip into the hills, and a small piece of red serge cut from Fraser's dress uniform. He had carefully placed the items in a metal box and buried it under their Inuksuk. Buck had then left him alone, promising to collect him again in two hours. So here he was on a hill looking out over a barren ice field, with a small wooden box laying at his feet.

Diefenbaker whined again in concern. The wolf hadn't left Ray's side since Fraser had died, and Ray was glad that Diefenbaker had decided to stay with him. Ray looked down smiling through his tears. "I'm good Dief," he tried to re-assure wolf. Diefenbaker cocked in his head onto one side, and Ray choked out a laugh. "OK. Now ya look like Ben," he ruffled the wolf's furry head in affection, wiping at his tears again with his free hand. Diefenbaker woofed again. "OK. OK. Let's get this show on the road."

Ray bent down picking up a small wooden box - all that was left of Fraser. "No," he chastised himself - Fraser would be forever in his heart, and he would carry the memory of Fraser and their love for each other, within his soul, until the day he died.

Carefully opening the small box, Ray scooped up a handful of ashes. He studied his clenched fist before lifting his arm high into the air. Looking up, Ray slowly unclenched his fist and turned his hand slightly so the ashes fell from his hand, the breeze catching them as they fell from his hand. "Bye Ben," he whispered.

By his side, Diefenbaker lifted his head up to the sky; his mournful howl bounced off the vast white expanse, sounding eerie and unearthly in the stillness as it echoed all around them. Diefenbaker let out another howl as a final goodbye to his friend.

Taking another handful of ashes, Ray released them from his hand. "Walking in the sky Ben," Ray smiled to himself as he watched Fraser's ashes float on the arctic air currents. "Till we meet again," Ray murmured as he emptied the contents of the box, freeing them to dance with the wind.

Ray had fulfilled his final promise - Fraser was home.

THE END

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