Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I am just playing in this sandbox.

Author's Notes: Much gratitude to my very thorough, careful betas: Catwalksalone, Elementalv and Dessert_First. Any remaining mistakes are mine, all mine! The beautiful title was provided by Green_Grrl.

Story Notes: This story was inspired by, but is not based on Audrey Niffenegger's beautiful book, 'The Time-Traveler's Wife.' It was written for DS Match 2008.

When Ray comes back to himself, he's somewhere else. Middle of nowhere somewhere else. The sun is shining, for which he is grateful. Last time, he'd materialized into a thunderstorm. This time, the weather's not against him, but he thinks maybe everything else is. Where in the world is he? He can't ever control his jumps, but he usually ends up in some place and time that he knows. He's seen the bank robbery from every conceivable angle, his wedding day, the day Stella walked out on him, stuff like that. Right now, he doesn't recognize a thing. Which maybe makes sense because he's not sure he's even still in the same country, much less in Chicago.

He's in a vast, open valley, only there aren't hills on all sides, but huge, craggy, snow-tipped mountains. There are a few stunted trees, strange and gnarled. The ground under his feet is carpeted with odd little flowers, and what look like alien moss-plants. Fraser would probably know what they were, but he's not here with Ray.

At first, Ray thought that no one was, but when he turned to survey the entire vast emptiness around him, he saw that it wasn't actually empty.

There's a small cabin not more than a few hundred yards away. Now that he's focused on it, he can hear the clattering noises of someone doing something with pots and pans in a kitchen.

There doesn't seem to be anyone or anything else for miles in every other direction, so Ray shrugs and starts toward the little house.

When he gets a good look at it, the first thing that goes through his head is, What year is it? He's never jumped out of his own lifetime before, but there's a first time for everything, and the cabin looks suspiciously like something out of that Melissa Gilbert show about the prairie. He really hopes it isn't 18-hundred and whatever, because he has no idea how to explain his clothes and hair and cell phone if it is, but when he gets closer he sees that there's a small boy playing industriously in front of the house. The kid's making a big mess of himself in the mud with something that looks suspiciously like the Tonka truck that Ray's mom bought him for his fourth birthday. So, okay, not 18-aught-fuck-all, but not 1998 either.

He barely has time to register that before the kitchen-noises stop, and the door to the cabin swings open to reveal a young woman. Ray doesn't need to be told that this is the mother of the child still playing in the dirt. Their hair is the same--a glossy, dark brown, curling around their faces--but the real clue is the way she immediately strides forward to put herself between Ray and her son. She looks strong, like someone who works hard and knows what her body can do, and the look she is giving Ray is deeply suspicious, with only the pretense of polite curiosity. Ray can hardly blame her. How the hell is he going to explain his presence here?

She speaks first, "What can we do for you, sir?"

Ray takes a second to admire the "we." He's almost positive they're alone out here, she and the kid. He also takes a moment to figure out what to tell her. He doesn't think his badge will hurt him any, so he pulls it out and says--carefully not naming names, "I'm with the Chicago PD, uh, ma'am."

It pays to be polite in strange places. He's learned that the hard way.

Her face doesn't exactly clear, but something in her posture loosens a little, and she looks as if she understands. "If you're here to see my husband, I'm afraid you've just missed him," she tells him.

Her husband?

Any questions he might have asked are interrupted by a small voice. The boy, who has been watching them from his vantage point on the ground, pipes up with, "Mama? He came from over there!" He points one grubby finger at the spot in the valley where Raymaterialized? Dropped out of the sky? He's never seen it from the outside so he can't be sure what his jumps look like, but holy shit. It looks as if the kid could probably tell him.

"Mama" gives Ray another suspicious look, but her face softens completely when she turns to her son.

"Sweetie, why don't you take your toy into the house?"

The boy stands, but instead of turning to go inside he edges closer to his mother, insistent on his story, "But Mama! It was like magic! Ask him."

"I will. But Benton, right now I want you in the house, okay? We'll talk about it later."

"Benton?" Ray studies the kid, startled and suddenly understanding. Benton? And then it's like his brain can't handle the overload or something, because he winks out, without even a second's warning.

~~~~~~

When he came back to himself, he was curled up on the floor of the supply room at the 2-7. Yuck. He was covered in dust and his head was still spinning from his, whaddayacallit, travels, but at least he was alone.

Through some stroke of luck, Fraser hadn't figured him out yet. Usually, he got a little warning tingle, and could duck out of whatever he was doing before he dematerialized, or whatever happened when he left. Stella'd known about it, obviously, but his last partner had never figured it out, or at least, he'd never said a word about it to Ray. Fraser? Was another thing entirely. It was only a matter of time. They spent almost every waking minute together: ate together, spent the evenings together, worked together. And Fraser was not slow. One of these times, Ray would disappear, and Fraser would be right there, questioning why. So far, that hadn't happened.

Oh, man. That little kid had been Fraser. He almost couldn't believe it. He'd seen Fraser as a little boy. That used to happen all the time with Stella, at least in the beginning. It was like his body wanted to know what made this person he-

Ray scrambled to his feet, distracting himself from that line of thought by brushing the dirt from his clothes and fussing with his hair. There was no mirror in there, but he thought he was okay to face the world. He grabbed a box of paperclips off one of the shelves, stepped out into the hallway, and immediately slammed right into a big wall of red. Fraser.

Ray actually heard himself squeak, he was so startled. He almost tripped over his own feet, but when Fraser's hands came up to steady him, he pulled himself up and skittered out of reach. He couldn't deal with Fraser holding him right then. Just the idea got his heart racing with something that felt an awful lot like fear.

"Geez, Fraser," he snapped, his confusion translating immediately to irritation, "Watch it!"

Fraser didn't rise to his sniping, just looked him over with that considering stare he sometimes had, like he was cataloging the customs of an alien race of which Ray was a member. "Where were you, Ray?" On the surface, his voice betrayed nothing but calm concern. "I believe Lieutenant Welsh wanted to speak with you."

"Yeah? Well, why didn't he come find me himself?"

Honestly, Ray didn't know what controlled his mouth sometimes. Fraser didn't actually sigh, but he had the look of someone who really wanted to. That wasn't fair. It wasn't Fraser's fault that his child self had freaked Ray out.

Ray scrubbed his hands over his eyes, and decided to do Fraser's sighing for him.

"Don't know why you put up with me, Fraser," he said.

No answer to that, but when Ray looked up the "really want to sigh" look had turned into a "really want to smile" one, so he figured they were okay. He cocked his head in the direction of the bullpen, and when he turned in that direction Fraser fell into step beside him.

When he noticed that their steps were perfectly in sync, he got that jittery feeling again, but he tamped it down this time. All he said was, "I just really needed some paperclips, Fraser. You know how it is."

Fraser gave him another one of those considering looks. Clearly he didn't know "how it was," but this time he just nodded. The "want to smile" was still there, and Ray felt a little smile on his face, too.

He'd seen little Fraser, how about that?

~~~~~~

To his eternal frustration, he still can't control his traveling, hasn't been able to--not once--in all the years this has been happening to him.

In the weeks after that first time, he sees Beth Botrelle twice, the bank once, that day in tenth grade when he kissed Gabe Foster, and Stella's graduation from law school.

He's beginning to think it's not going to happen again. He's wrong about that, but the darn time-travel--whatever--takes its own sweet time getting him back there.

When Ray appears this time, it is just in time to see little-Fraser--Benton--take a nosedive out of one of the little arctic trees. The fall would have disconcerted even his Fraser, but the kid just picks himself up and launches himself forward, towards Ray, shouting, "Mama! Look Mama, he came back!"

At the speed he's going, it doesn't take Benton more than a few moments to reach Ray, and he tumbles to a stop as soon as he does. Now that Ray knows who he is, he can't stop himself from staring, cataloging everything about him.

Kid has a scratch on his cheek, and his elbow has a band-aid on it that doesn't really cover the scrape there. There's dirt under his fingernails. His hair is longer than Ray's ever seen Fraser wear it, and would be curling around his face if it wasn't blown all over the place, probably by his running and climbing and jumping--falling--off things.

Ray has barely a second to notice these things, because the boy--fearless like his Fraser--is already full of questions, breathlessly stumbling over too many of them at once.

"You came back! Where'd you go? Are you a ghost? Mama says you might be a ghost."

Ray doesn't know quite what to make of this, and he certainly doesn't know how to answer, but that's fine because he isn't really given a chance.

"What's your name? Do you have a name? Mama says you were in the police. Were you in the police?"

"Uh, Steve," he blurts, disconcerted and bemused by the onslaught of words coming at him. Some things never change. "My name is Steve--" Not McQueen, though his mind flashes for a second on the strange look Fraser had given him in the crypt that day, when he'd said the name--"Kirkman." Stella wouldn't mind. She never used it.

"And yes, I'm a police detective. But didn't your mama ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"

"Yeah, but you're a ghost. Ghosts aren't strangers." The kid looks absolutely certain of his logic and, to prove his point, he sticks out his hand and pokes--hard--at Ray's belly. Ow.

Benton looks just as shocked as he is. Ray's pretty sure they both have the identical expression on their faces.

"But," Benton starts, "you're-"

As they stare at one another, Mrs. Fraser--Caroline, Ray looked it up--apparently notices that her son is no longer trying to kill himself with small trees and has taken up talking to strangers, and comes out to where they're standing.

"What's going on out here, Ben?"

She sounds more affectionate than exasperated, and her wariness with Ray has inexplicably disappeared because she just gives him a small smile before turning her full attention on her son.

Benton--Ben still looks a little freaked. Ray takes a moment to marvel at a child who finds ghosts perfectly acceptable, but then has a problem with disappearing humans. If it were Ray, both options would be totally freakish. Hell, he did freak out. The first time? He hadn't been much older than Ben was now. He'd come to in the middle of an empty playground and immediately started to cry.

If he'd had someone to tell about the whole thing, he wouldn't have told that part.

Ben doesn't look as if he's about to cry. More like he was sure he knew the way the world worked, and is surprised and displeased to find that he's wrong. It's a funny look on the face of a child, but Ray doesn't laugh. This has never happened to him before and he's not sure how either of them will take it, or what he's supposed to say.

"Mama, he-" Ben doesn't seem able to find words to articulate his distress and so he reaches out and pokes Ray again. Ow.

"Ow!"

"Okay, okay," Caroline soothes, crossing the remaining distance between them and pulling Ben up and into her arms, "What seems to be the problem, honey?"

Ben refuses to be soothed, "You said he was a ghost!"

Caroline looks as if she too is trying not to smile. Ray likes her already, just for taking Ben seriously.

"I said he might be one, Ben. I don't really know anything about him." She says this in the most matter-of-fact voice, and Ray sees that Ben is considering it carefully.

Ray still doesn't know what they need from him so he doesn't volunteer any reply. He can't stop himself from fidgeting, however. This is surreal, even for him, and so he occupies himself with jingling the keys in his pocket.

"Besides, it's impolite to talk about someone when they're standing right in front of you," she continues, "Why don't we just ask him?"

"Okay." Ben says this quietly, but when Caroline turns back to Ray and opens her mouth, he immediately interrupts, "No, no, I want to do it. Let me do it, Mama. Let me down. I want to!"

He starts slithering out of her arms before she even replies. When he thumps to the ground, he turns to Ray, but he's lost some of the bravado from earlier. "You disappeared," he points out.

"Yeah. I guess I did." Ray resists the urge to ask him what it looked like. Maybe later.

"But you're-" and here the kid reaches out his hand, intent on poking Ray yet again.

Ray grabs the little hand before it can reach him. He thinks he might already have bruises from the last two times.

"All right, that's enough. Can you please stop doing that?" He says it as gently as he can, even though--in typical Fraser fashion--the kid's persistence is starting to annoy him. Caroline, who is watching them both carefully, actually gives him a small, understanding smile, so he figures it's fine.

Ben's not fazed. "But then how did you do it?" he asks.

Ray thinks about that one, "I don't know. It isn't really something I do. More like, it just happens to me. I don't even get to pick where I go."

Caroline gives him a sharp look on that one, as if she wants to ask why he's back at her house, but she doesn't interrupt her son.

"Yeah? Well, what are you? Where do you come from?"

"I told you. I'm a cop. From Chicago." Ray wonders if he should be even saying that much, but it's too late now.

Ben scrunches his face, "What's a Chicago? Does everyone there have magical powers?"

"Uh, I don't think so. It's just an ordinary-type city." Ray pretends to consider the question, "Well, my partner is magically annoying. And his dog can make donuts disappear, does that count?"

Ben outright giggles at that, his whole face crinkling with the effort, and Ray just watches him, wondering at the contrast between this carefree kid and his Fraser.

Grown-up Fraser had a sense of humor all right. At least, if you knew where to look for it. He'd startled Ray more than once with his sly comments. Just the other day Ray'd almost gotten into another a fight with Dewey. He'd never admit it, but that had been Fraser's fault. He'd leaned in so close that his breath tickled Ray's ear and whispered, "Some people don't know the meaning of team spirit, Ray," just as Dewey was trying to explain why he'd been late to take his shift watching some drug dealer's girlfriend's house. Ray'd laughed right in the guy's face.

So, Fraser had his little jokes, but Ray couldn't think of a time he'd seen him laugh like this. And, yeah, he wasn't a kid anymore, Ray got that, but Ray remembered himself at that age. And he should probably be embarrassed to admit it, but he'd been just as cranky then as he is now. He can vividly recall a number of fights he'd had with--granted, much larger and meaner--kids on the playground.

This little boy?

Ray doesn't know whether to hope he's hiding inside the buttoned-up guy he knows or pray he isn't. He can't decide which is worse.

He's not given a chance to brood over it because Ben reaches out, his eyes wide with mischief, and prods at him again with two fingers.

This time Ray huffs out a surprised and almost breathless laugh. Ben is small, but his arms are strong--probably from all the tree-climbing--and he apparently doesn't go in for half-measures any more than his adult self.

"Okay, that's it," Ray says, "You're in real trouble now!"

He keeps the smile on his face--and checks in with Caroline before he does it--but when she gives him an almost imperceptible nod he bends his knees into a runner's crouch and feints theatrically toward Ben. This doesn't work with every kid, but Ray knows Fraser, and he's pretty sure even his child self isn't going to be able to resist the chase. Sure enough, he takes off like a shot, giggling again, and looking over his shoulder at Ray after every few feet. As he chases after Ben, Ray wonders how he keeps on his feet. Ray has to slow his steps comically to give Ben anything like a fair chance, and they run around the clearing for a little bit, shouting and laughing. Caroline watches them. Ray catches her eye on one of his passes and there's a strange expression on her face, but again, she doesn't seem angry with him, or worried about Ben.

Finally, Ray tires of the game and stretches himself a little bit to catch Ben. He's just reaching out his arms to grab the boy when Ben's eyes widen. He stops and stumbles, tripping over his own feet in confusion. His amazed face is the last thing Ray sees before the clearing fades out.

~~~~~~

This time he was curled up in the back seat of the Goat. How'd he get here? When he looked out the window, he saw the brick wall of the alley behind the Consulate. Oh yeah, he was on his way to pick up Fraser. He remembered that. Jesus, it was a miracle he'd never totaled his car. He couldn't be more grateful for the Spidey-sense that always told him when to pull over.

He wasn't even that late. It only took him a few seconds to crawl out of the back seat and straighten his clothes. He leaned down to check his hair in the side-view mirror, and then he was done.

The Consulate was open, so he just sauntered in--past Turnbull's "Welcome to Canada"--and went straight to Fraser's office. Fraser was bent over some papers and didn't immediately look up when Ray barged through the door. He was on a campaign to teach Ray to knock first--which, good luck--and this subtle disregard for Ray's presence in his office was clearly part of some multi-stage plan.

Dief wasn't part of this endeavor, and he immediately raised his head from where it had been resting on his crossed paws. He gave Ray one of those long-suffering Dief-looks. Apparently, it'd been a dull morning. He heaved himself up and clicked over to put his nose on Ray's hand. "Hey, furball," Ray murmured, "no food today." He ruffled the fur on Dief's head, and Dief resettled himself at Ray's feet.

Fraser chose this moment to "notice" Ray. He put down his pen and stood up.

"Ray! I didn't hear you come in." Liar. Ray could see a little twinkle in his eyes as he said it. He looked as if he were expecting an argument from Ray, but Ray still had the little kid in his head and didn't have the heart for it today.

"Yeah, I'm a little late. Sorry, buddy," was all he said. He saw the barest flicker of disappointment cross Fraser's face. Ray puzzled over that for a second. Fraser wanted the fight? Fraser liked it when Ray snapped and snarled?

Something about that made Ray a little giddy, like he wanted to laugh, or make a fool of himself dancing Fraser around the room. He could feel his face getting hot and so, just to give himself something to do, he crouched down to pet Dief again. The wolf gave him another one of those looks, like he knew what Ray was doing and didn't think much of his courage.

Ray could see Fraser out of the corner of his eye and caught him stiffening just a tiny bit, his posture going guard-duty stern for a moment. Aw, buddy, he thought--somewhat incoherently--I'd ruffle your feathers, too.

He stood up at that. Fraser was watching him, something sort of sad and wistful in his eyes. Before he could over-think it, Ray reached out and gently clasped his upper arm. It was a completely innocent gesture, but Fraser's face softened at it, and Ray's heart did a little skittery thing in his chest.

"You ready, Fraser?" Ray's voice was steady and maybe just a little bit sharp, "Let's get at 'er."

Fraser just smiled, "Why, yes, Ray. I do believe I am."

"Okay, then."

Okay.

~~~~~~

Ray's not surprised when, after two jumps to the first apartment he shared with Stella and one jump to the day his dad gave him the Goat, he winds up back at the little cabin in the middle of nowhere.

"Steve!" Ben yells this from across the clearing and comes running for Ray. When he reaches him, Ben takes his hand and starts pulling at it, trying to get him to go faster. "You're just in time, come on!"

Ben pulls him up the steps and into the house for the first time. When they get inside, Ray sees Caroline setting bowls of soup down on a rough-hewn, but neatly set, table.

When she sees them, she laughs, "I guess we're three for lunch, then? Ben, go wash your hands, now."

When Ben runs over to the kitchen sink, she turns to Ray, "He really likes you. That's...unusual."

"And you're okay with that?"

It's got to feel strange to her.

"I am. For now." Her look tells him that could change at a moment's notice, that she's watching him carefully. He's been bemused at her ready acceptance of him, and is strangely glad that she's suspicious enough to show him a little menace. It's clear that she knows to protect herself, and Ben.

He makes sure to hold her gaze for a moment longer than is really necessary, signaling to her that he understands not only what she's saying, but also what she means. They nod at one another like gunslingers, but Ray can't keep his cool. He feels the helpless urge to laugh. His lips curl a little, and he sees her grin, and then they're both giggling like kids. He's not sure either of them really knows why.

"What's so funny?" Ben asks. He's finished washing his hands and has turned to stare at them.

Caroline schools her face into a semblance of calm and says, "It's nothing, sweetie. Let's eat this stuff while it's hot, okay?"

And so Ray sits down to lunch with them, like he's just an ordinary, time-traveling guest. He even gets to finish his grilled-cheese sandwich before he's pulled away.

After that, he's there at least once every few jumps and it seems like more than that as the months pass.

He becomes their imaginary friend. When other people are at the cabin, he doesn't visit, just wanders around the valley until the whatever-it-is that controls his jumps decides to send him home. He wonders sometimes if Caroline is nervous about having a strange man show up on her doorstep again and again, but she doesn't show any sign of it after that first time, and they don't discuss what she believes about him. He's really more like Fraser--BentonBen's--pet magician.

He also wonders what's happening that he only ever comes to this time and place. He can't tell how much time passes, if any, between his jumps, but Ben doesn't seem to get that much older between visits. That's odd in so many ways, he can't even think about it. If Fraser isif heif his mind thinks Fraser's important, why isn't he getting to meet him at 12 and 20 and two weeks ago?

And the other thing is: he's never been in another chronology for so long. He thinks, because they always recognize him, that he's actually showing up in linear time for them. Little Ben gets more comfortable with him every time and Caroline has relaxed enough to leave them alone together, to talk about herself with him, just the tiniest little bit.

He tries not to pry and he never tells her about Fraser. They've never talked about it, but he's pretty sure she knows that he knows Ben-in-the-future. She never asks.

Ben asks enough questions for both of them. He comes running every single time Ray shows up and doesn't leave Ray's side if he can help it. His rapid-fire chatter is peppered with questions and orders barely disguised as requests. It's not entirely unlike spending an afternoon with adult Fraser. Ray helps Ben build things, gets dirty, ends up climbing and falling out of things, and deflects as many inquiries about his life as he thinks he can.

The ways in which it isn't like a day spent with Fraser? Hurt Ray just a little.

This boy is demonstrative. He cheerfully accepts kisses from Caroline and lifts up his arms to beg for hugs from her whenever she comes to check on them. He does the same to Ray after a few weeks, his little arms awkward around Ray's shoulders. He's always smiling, often laughing. Like Fraser, he rushes headlong into everything, but Ray can't help thinking that Fraser does it only for duty now.

Fraser is cautious in unexpected ways. Ben runs toward everything.

~~~~~~

Ray woke up in his bedroom. It was dark and the clock said it was 2:00 AM. He wasn't in bed, exactly. He was lying on top of the covers, still in his street clothes. Instead of getting up, he toed off his shoes, wrestled out of his jacket, and just crawled under the covers in his jeans and t-shirt.

He was tired, but he didn't sleep right away. He pulled the covers over his head and thought about Fraser.

They'd planned to have dinner together and watch a game, but Ray'd had to cut their evening short. He'd told Fraser his head hurt, and that'd been true. He always ached a little right before he jumped.

He pictured the way Fraser's face had looked as Ray hustled him out the door, and there hadn't been the slightest detectable trace of censure or disappointment. He'd been genuinely concerned for Ray, almost exasperating in his agreeableness. Ray could have sworn Fraser'd been about two seconds away from offering to tuck him into bed.

So Fraser hadn't seemed disappointed, but Ray thought maybe he was. Fraser didn't seem to have a lot of happiness in his life, at least, nothing Ray would recognize as such. Hell, he didn't have a lot of anything in his life, what with being far from home and living at his work and probably also missing the real Vecchio.

Ray didn't know how he got so lucky, but Fraser had taken to him just like that. He liked Ray. Ray could feel that. Ray was the thing in Fraser's life that was most like happiness, he guessed. And Ray wasn't foolish enough to try and lie to himself at 2:00 in the morning. The same was true for him, too. He knew, had known all along what it meant that he kept ending up back at that cabin in the woods. Oh, sure, he could hide it from Fraser all he wanted, but that never happened for just no reason.

The thing was, it seemed like sort of a heavy thing to spring on the guy. For all Fraser's comfort with Ray, he was still so reserved, still didn't ever really let the mask slip that often. Maybe he preferred things the way they were. There was no way for him to know that his child self spent hours chattering away at Ray, or tugging him around the woods, or ordering him around in a high-pitched, but still Fraserish voice.

And Ray liked the way things were. He was glad that Fraser seemed content around him. He was happy to share his evenings with the guy. There was no reason to complicate things if they were good enough to start with.

If he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about Fraser's reserve, something that was just begging to be broken, it wasn't any of Ray's business, was it? He'd been that way all along.

~~~~~~

Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

He can hear Ben calling, "Mama!" Just the one word, repeated over and over, the syllables dipping down and then up hysterically, like a distress call or the cry of a bird. By the time the second one rings out over the clearing Ray is already running. He'd fetched up further away from the cabin than usual, and Ben's voice has time to spiral higher and higher before Ray reaches him.

What he sees stuns him. He'd known that Fraser's mother had died when he was very young, but not like this. Not like this.

Caroline is lying sprawled on the ground in front of her little house. Her legs are curled and the way she fell her face and body are turned a little bit away from Ray, one arm flung out behind her. There is blood on her shirt. Too much blood. And when Ray gets closer he can see that her eyes are open and vacant. Whatever happened here, there's nothing he can do for her.

And then there is Ben.

The boy is clutching at his mother's shirt, so tightly that--when Ray gets closer--he can see that Ben's small fingers are white at the knuckles. He is pulling on her, his cries long since turned to shrieks, frightened and uncomprehending. "Mama!" Still just that one word. Not garbled, not slurred, clear as a bell and full of what should be too much agony for the small body. "Mama!"

Ben is intent on his mother. He doesn't even register Ray's presence in the clearing.

"Ben," he calls, but there's no reaction, not even a pause in the mantra. Two more steps take him to Ben's side, and he reaches down to lift him away from the body. His mother.

"Ben, come here, come on," he says, trying to pull the boy into his arms. He's light enough to carry, but he refuses to let go of Caroline's shirt, so that Ray is tugging her body up through the connection between them. He has to reach down and unwrap each tiny finger from the soft fabric. Ben never stops screaming the entire time he's doing it, but as soon as Ray picks him up, he wraps both arms around Ray's neck and pushes his face into the crook of Ray's shoulder. It almost hurts. He's using all of his strength to burrow into Ray, to hide himself, and Ray turns his back on the wreck of Caroline's body and gets them away from her and behind the house as quickly as he can.

As soon as they turn the corner, as if a switch has been thrown, Ben stops calling for her and immediately starts to cry, his whole body shaking with it. His tears soak the collar of Ray's shirt.

"It's all right. It's going to be okay, Ben," he murmurs, repeating the soothing words over and over, though he knows full well that they're a lie.

Ray's voice is soft as it can be, but it isn't steady. As Ben chokes on sobs in his ear, he can feel his own tears running down his face. Oh, Fraser.

He's not sure what to do, here. He's not a cop right now. Hell, wherever his real self is right now, he's pretty sure he's four years old. He doesn't even know where they are, out in the middle of nowhere. He's never seen a map and they've never mentioned town or city names to him. He could easily go to get help and get hopelessly lost. 9-1-1 doesn't even exist yet, and he has no way of getting someone out here.

He starts to panic, holding Ben. What if? What if he winks out and Ben is left here? What if no one comes for him? What if something happens to him?

Okay, he tells himself, It's going to be okay. He knows that Fraser survives this day, he knows it. He's waiting for Ray somewhere out there in the future. He's fine.

'Course, now Ray knows that's a lie, too, at least in part.

He rocks child-Ben and bends to whisper in his ear, "I love you, Fraser. I love you."

Ben doesn't answer, but his arms tighten just the tiniest bit around Ray's shoulders. Ray wishes he could protect him from what's coming, what's happened, but of course he can't. He suddenly can't wait to get back to his Fraser. He's been so stupid.

As he's thinking this, he hears the voices of two men. They're on the other side of Ben and Caroline's house, so he doesn't think they can see him, but from the sound of it they're getting closer. He can't quite make out what they're saying, but as they get louder Ben lifts his head and pulls back so that Ray can see him. He's stopped crying, though his face is still wet with tears. He doesn't look afraid so Ray guesses that the voices are familiar to him.

Following a hunch, Ray whispers, "Is that your dad?"

Ben just nods. He doesn't seem relieved or comforted by the fact.

"Okay. Okay, good. Look, Ben, he can't find me here, do you understand?"

Ben nods again, but his arms tighten on Ray.

"That means I have to put you down, okay?"

At this, Ben's face crumples, and he looks as if he's going to start crying again.

"No, no, no," he says, shaking his head in time with the repetition, "No!"

Fuck. This isn't going to work. Ben is holding onto his shirt with the same grip that had scared Ray so much when he'd seen it on Caroline. His voice isn't loud yet, but any second the two men will be close enough to hear it. Ray does not want to answer questions about who he is and why Ben is clinging to him. He doesn't want Ben to have to answer them either. He has to get away, much as it kills him to do it.

He pulls Ben back enough that he can meet his eyes and says again, "I have to put you down. I'll be right here. I won't leave, but they can't see me."

Ben looks as if he wants to cry again, but Ray can see he understands. Smart kid.

"Look, what if I give you something? You can have-" What can he have? Ray mentally catalogs what he has on him. Ben can't have the gun, phone, keys, badge, but--Ray lets go of him for a second to pull one glove out of his pocket.

"Take this. You can hold it and we'll pretend you're holding my hand. Will that help?"

Another nod. Okay. Ray carries Ben to the back step of the house and sets him down. He doesn't protest again. As Ray backs away into the trees behind the house, Ben scrunches up on the step, curling his knees under his chin and putting a fingertip of the glove in his mouth. He doesn't cry.

Ray ducks out of sight and not a moment too soon. The two men have finished their conversation and come around to this side of the house, looking for Ben. They're both in the brown Mountie uniform Ray's seen on Fraser a hundred times. Exhaustion radiates from them, but they look relieved to see the boy.

Ben rouses himself as they get closer. From his hiding place, Ray watches him tuck the glove away and stand up to greet his father. It's the first time Ray's ever seen the kid look like Fraser. He stands as still and stiff as if he's on guard duty outside the Consulate. He doesn't reach for his father or run to him, just waits--a little statue on the steps.

"He's so calm," one of the men says, "He saw what happened didn't he? I'm surprised he's not more upset."

"Yep," the other man replies in a too-hearty voice, "That's my boy! He's a strong one."

It's probably shock, Ray thinks, as the man in the Mountie uniform takes Ben's hand.

"Come along, Benton," the man--Ben's father--says. "We can't stay here."

Ben looks back to where Ray is crouched, hiding, but he seems to understand that he shouldn't say anything about it. Ray gives him an encouraging nod and watches him square his little shoulders and turn away.

When they are all finally out of sight, Ray feels like a puppet whose strings have been cut. He's been holding himself together for Ben and didn't realize how much work that was until he doesn't have to do it. He doesn't even try to go back to the house, just slumps down on to the cold ground and waits for his damned "power" to send him home. Home to Fraser.

~~~~~~

It's midnight, but Ray can't wait. He doesn't even stop to think until he's at the door to the Consulate.

Fraser's bewildered when he comes to let Ray in. He's in his red long underwear and looks sleepy and concerned.

"What is it, Ray? What's wrong?"

"Fraser, um, I have something I need to tell you," Ray gets this part out, but then doesn't know how to continue. Fraser is no help. His face has closed up completely, as if he's afraid of what Ray will say and is protecting himself from what might be coming.

"Come on, Ray. Maybe we should talk in my office," is all he says.

So Ray follows Fraser down the hall, trying to figure out where to start. He wishes he could just take Fraser in his arms, have Fraser understand everything without a word, but he's pretty sure that's not going to be enough. There's too much. It's too complicated.

It's only when they get to Fraser's little room that he sees his shortcut. It's been a long time since that day, in Fraser's world, but there's something Fraser kept. Ray doesn't even have to ask.

He just knows.

"Fraser, give me the key to this, will you?" He points to Fraser's banded trunk. The only significant thing he rescued from the fire. Fraser gives him a funny look, but digs in his desk drawer and hands Ray a ring of keys.

Ray marvels at the trust that implies, but he's too intent to smile about it right now.

The trunk is neatly packed. Ray lifts the tray off the top, and finds a treasure-trove of Fraser's life underneath. There are pictures and trinkets and mysterious objects. Some day he'll ask Fraser about each and every one of them. Today, he only wants one thing, and sure enough, there it is. A single, leather glove. It's stiff with age and scuffed from its travels, and Ray swears he can see teeth-marks on one of the fingers, but it is without a doubt the glove he handed to Fraser less than an hour ago.

Fraser hasn't said a word the entire time Ray's been rifling through his worldly possessions. He's got to be curious, and indeed, when Ray stands to look at him, he can see that Fraser is biting back a hundred different questions.

Ray hands him the glove. It's been thirty years for Fraser. His eyes cloud over like it was yesterday. Ray's never seen him look so bewildered. He almost wants to stop there, but he just knows he has to get through this. He puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out the other glove.

When he hands this one to Fraser, his friend's eyes widen even further. His head snaps up so fast it's like it's on a spring, and he stares hard at Ray.

"I can't really explain how it works, but I was there. I...I can...I'm not always in this--real--time." Ray says this as quietly and calmly as he can. And oh, he knew Fraser was too smart for him, because there's absolutely no surprise at this part. Fraser looks like he's just been given the last piece of a puzzle he's been working on for ages. He doesn't look grateful or relieved or comforted, however. Quite the reverse. When he looks back down at the gloves, his expression is complicated.

Ray can see the wheels turning in Fraser's head and that the result of his calculations isn't good. Ray feels suddenly guilty, as if he's been spying on Fraser, prying where he isn't wanted.

"Look, I wouldn't've...I didn't mean...I don't get to choose, Fraser."

Fraser's head shoots back up at that.

"Yeah," Ray says, suddenly very tired, "Yeah, Fraser, that's right. I just go where it sends me, but it doesn't mean nothing, you know?"

"I don't know what you mean, Ray." Liar. Fraser is taking refuge in obliviousness, but Ray hasn't come this far just to let Fraser brush him off.

"Don't you ever wonder what...I mean, don't you ever think maybe we could-?" Fraser's still giving him that stony look, but Ray knows him. He can see a little crack of something behind Fraser's eyes. It gives Ray the courage to push forward. "Look, Fraser, it's not a symbol. I-I'm in love with you, all right?"

"Ray!" Fraser's shocked by this. Fair enough. So is Ray.

"What? It's true, and I think you know it."

"Ray," this time, the voice is soft. Soft and a little frightened.

Ray figures that's as much encouragement as he's going to get. He steps forward, moving carefully, as if Fraser's a wild animal he's trying not to startle. Fraser doesn't move, doesn't back away, doesn't reach for him, just watches Ray with eyes that are cracked with hope.

Ray steps so close he can feel Fraser's breath on his face. He's said everything he can right now, and so he just reaches up and puts his arms around Fraser, gathering him in and putting his own face into the crook of Fraser's neck. For long seconds, Fraser doesn't react. His arms are actually pressed between them, still holding the gloves. Now that Ray is this close, he can feel a slight tremor in them. If Ray feels sort of ridiculous, hugging a shivering statue, he tamps it down and hangs on gently, letting Fraser get used to him there.

When Fraser pulls back Ray figures it's because he wants to pull away. Oh, well, he thinks, I tried. But he's wrong. Fraser frees his arms only to wrap them roughly around Ray. He clutches so tightly it's as if he's afraid Ray's going to disappear. Ray clutches right back, so relieved it almost hurts. He turns his head until his mouth is near Fraser's ear, and whispers, "Look, I'm right here, okay? Even when I'm not here, I'm here." Ray isn't making any sense. It doesn't really matter. Fraser doesn't say anything, but some tension Ray hadn't even noticed goes out of the big body in his arms. Fraser melts into him, and it's the best thing on earth.

They haven't said everything they need to say, but Ray figures they'll get around to it. They have time. For now, Ray just rests his head on Fraser's shoulder and listens to their hearts beat. It's enough.

~fin