Disclaimer: Standard Disclaimer. I haven´t thought of one yet. Please send comments, questions, compliments, and otters to sdelcul@yahoo.com.

Author's Notes: I apologize for the list overload, but please bear with me (feel free to send angry emails and fling inanimate objects) until I catch up. Keep in mind that internet is a two hour bus ride away at the moment and I have to boil my water before it's safe to drink. Gotta love rural Ecuador!

Story Notes:

Daylight was breaking, and Benny would probably wake up soon after. That wasn't a bad thing, but for the moment this was better. It was good to watch the reds and oranges moving across his skin as the sun rose, forming a loving halo.

He'd fought so hard to be here, and nothing, not even his own thoughts, were going to take him away. His grip tightened unintentionally, and he looked up to meet blue eyes.

"Good morning, Ray."

And a good morning it was, although he never would have predicted this a few years ago. He forced his face into a smile and ignored the pain. The Bookman wouldn't have felt it anyway.

He allowed Fraser to make love to him, knowing the pain would get better when he was alone. Fraser left for work soon after, and he went into the bathroom and vomited up breakfast. The waffles hadn't had any flavor going down either. He rinsed his mouth, and avoided catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He cleared the dishes, glad of something to do, before pacing the apartment. The tension built and built until he grabbed his jacket and stepped outside.

The doctor hadn't cleared him to drive yet, he remembered, but it was his body. He had to do something, and soon, otherwise he'd explode. There were too many people depending on him, needing him, for him to allow that to happen.

On the surface, everything was perfect. He'd come back a hero to his coworkers. His family was glad to have him home safe. He was loved and respected by his best friend. He was in the prime of his life with everything to live for, but he was coming apart at the seams.

Everyday he was a little bit closer to the edge, driven to madness by his own thoughts.

Armande Langoustini had come from the darkness inside of Ray Vecchio. It had been too easy to become the Bookman. Too easy to do the right wrong thing and stay in character. He wasn't always sure that Armande would stay buried now that he was back in Ray Vecchio's life. God help him if he took over. God help them all.

End Closing In by silvina: sdelcul@yahoo.com

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