Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I'm not making money off this, this writing is just for fun and entertainment.

Where Ray is jittery and intense when he's awake, he's peaceful and calm when he's asleep. He rarely remembers his dreams and, until recently, was convinced he didn't dream at all. Fraser insisting otherwise wasn't what changed his mind. He has nightmares now. Not many. One every few months and usually he has them on the nights when Fraser has stayed late at the Consulate and fallen asleep doing paperwork, so Ray wakes up alone at three in the morning, gasping for air and groping for Fraser. Even when he has the nightmares, though, he doesn't thrash or moan quietly in his sleep. He's so still that Fraser sometimes worries he's stopped breathing and holds his hand under Ray's nose until he feels the warm rush of air.

Fraser is awake tonight. Awake and watching Ray. He does this sometimes, he stays awake and watches Ray because every so often he forgets to look at Ray during the day and Fraser never wants to forget to do that. Ray sleeps so peacefully and Fraser has no idea about the nightmares.

"Faggot."

The muzzle of the gun hits Ray hard, just above his eye and he hits the floor with a soft whap. From somewhere nearby he can hear Fraser struggling and he wants to tell him to stop, to just let it be because it's just a dream, but Ray never has his voice in these dreams.

"Get the fuck up."

And Ray does so, struggling to overcome the wave of nausea. His entire face aches and then the gun is pressed against the base of his skull and Ray is forced to look at Fraser.

"That's your fucking boyfriend, right, faggot?"

Ray nods blearily, sways unsteadily on his feet and winces when the gun digs into his skin.

"Why don't you go over there and kiss him better before I blow your brains out."

And Ray does what he's told. The nameless, faceless, nearly voiceless entity doesn't need to have a gender or an age. Ray knows exactly what it is. It's his fear. His fear of being found out, even though that's not really it entirely because sometimes he wants to have "Fraser's" tattooed across his forehead, he really doesn't care who knows. But the person in his dream is never a person because it's everyone. It's every time someone makes a joke, not knowing that Ray goes home every night and kisses a man. It's every time he sees a story on the news about a young gay man or woman being murdered, being raped, being tortured. It's the terrifying thought that he'll open a file at work one day and see his own face or, even worse, Fraser's.

"You hear me, you fucking freak of nature?"

Ray nods again, stumbles to Fraser and kneels beside him. Fraser can't move. This is how it always is. Somehow Fraser is restrained and he's so fucking scared that Ray can open his mouth and taste it and it makes his heart ache because he can't do anything.

"Kiss him." The gun is shoved hard against his skull. "Kiss him or I'll kill you."

Ray brushes his lips over Fraser's and he can taste blood. Because he doesn't have a voice he can't say how sorry he is. It's his fault. Somehow it's always his fault. He forced Fraser into a relationship, he told the wrong person, he touched Fraser the wrong way in public, he's always the one to blame. He can't whisper how much he loves Fraser, he can't utter an apology, he can't even whimper in fear. Instead he tries to tell Fraser just how sorry he is with the kiss, he tries to tell Fraser how much he loves him by gently kissing his jaw.

"Take your clothes off."

I am so sorry, Fraser, he thinks through tears and pulls his t-shirt over his head.

"Undress him. Undress him or I'll kill you both."

Ray closes his eyes, tries to pull himself together and the blast of the gun rips him from sleep.

"Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray."

There are warm, strong hands on his body and Ray flinches away from them, away from the gun he's expecting. There's a long silence broken only by Ray's laboured breathing and then Fraser touches him again.

"Ray?"

"Oh, Jesus, Fraser." And he's in Fraser's arms, pulling his body tight against Fraser's, burying his face in Fraser's throat. "I love you. Christ, I love you and I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Fraser strokes Ray's hair and holds him and does nothing to stop the apologies. He thinks Ray is apologizing for waking him, but it doesn't matter. He was awake anyway, awake and watching Ray. Fraser doesn't know what Ray dreams about, but he holds him and strokes his hair until Ray stops shaking.

"I am so sorry," he whispers again. "I'd never let that happen. I'd fucking kill anyone who tried it."

Fraser frowns, but holds Ray close and asks, "You'd never let what happen, Ray?"

But Ray is asleep once again and his shaking has ceased. He'll try to remember to ask Ray what he was talking about the next morning, but it's late and he's tired and the thought will slip his mind. The next time Ray wakes from the nightmare will be one of the rare nights that Fraser isn't there and he'll never get to ask what Ray meant. Perhaps it's best he never knows.