Author's Notes: Thank you to Team Whimsy! You are so brilliant and I love you. I could not have completed this without you. A most especial thank you to slidellra, who is an encouraging and most helpful beta, and to torra, who helped me get a a kickstart on this, even if she didn't know it. Hugs and kisses to all of you!

You always did what you were told to do. Been who you were told to be. You completed your assignments as given and you never questioned. You had a job to do and that was what you did. When they pulled your formless consciousness out of the collective where you waited for their forgiveness, they gave you this body and they told you to test him. They showed you his soul, and they told you to break it.

And you did it. But it broke you as well.

**

She is always there. He can't see her, not unless he looks in a mirror, but he feels her presence, hovering just behind him, a brush of fingers over his lips as he is falling asleep, a puff of air on his ear as she whispers in his dreams, things he doesn't remember or can't hear, and for that mercy he is thankful. He can't imagine she would have anything to say that he has not already told himself.

He learned years ago how to dress and shave without mirrors. He can't look into them without seeing her face, pale and angry and sad; it makes him shake and cry, and that, that he tries his best to avoid.

She had just been a passing thought in his mind until he had been forced to come to Chicago on the trail of the mortal that killed his father; such a mundane task, something that should have paled in the light of the troubles that the other creatures were visiting upon the world. But his father had deserved to be at peace; he thinks that sometimes he still sees the old man, in his dress reds and hat, as if guarding him from the afterlife or the realm of spirits or perhaps just his imagination.

There hadn't been many people to request help from. The police system had long ago been scattered and broken, but he had found help in the form of a few people who had banded together, still dedicated to the safety of all people. These he had willingly joined with, and they had welcomed him.

But even they had turned on him. They had taken the last vestige of his life before this disaster. They had taken her from him, and in her spite she had bound herself to him just as surely in death as she had been about to in life.

Ben turns and deliberately looks in the dirty window, sees her reflection there; he reaches out and traces the long dark hair, the shape of her face.

She mouths words he doesn't hear, and he closes his eyes and turns away. He knows what she is saying, her curse burned into his mind. He failed her. And he will never forgive himself for that.

**

When they birth you into this world the air rips apart and spews you to the ground. Your skin, newly stretched over your body and still pink from the trauma of being infused with life creaks as you struggle to your feet, adjusting to the unfamiliar structure of your body, the solidness and density of it.

Blood still streaks your back from half healed wounds that you know will never close; those slashes on your shoulder blades were made in another world, by weapons whose marks cannot be seen, let alone repaired, in this world. Painful, vivd reminders of how you fell, how you work for their mercy.

Yeah, and so what, you tell yourself as you turn your eyes up to the closing rift. They will remind you of what you have done to deserve this, and of what you will do for this chance at redemption.

Your shoulders twitch, your body still thinking it can launch itself up, back through that rift; you turn away before it can finish closing and you stagger across the frozen grass to look for help.

You find it in the form of a man and a woman who are kind enough to stop and help a stranger. You feel some guilt for using one of your remaining gifts to delve into their minds and discover this world, to build from your fading memories and theirs a life for yourself in this world. You twine your lives together, build yourself a history in your past as their son, entrench it deep within them, and within yourself, until neither of you know of a life without the others. You let go of the life you once had, and let this life embrace you.

**

'You don't even know if he's gonna see you.' Kowalski walks around the pile of rubble, wondering why anyone would willingly live in this part of the half ruined city.

'Yeah, but I gotta try. I don't know why he came back here, but we need his help.' Ray stops and looks around, his face softening with nostalgia.

'You wanna move it along, Vecchio? Before I die of waiting for you to remember the good old days?' Kowalski mimes walking, and Ray shakes his head, smiling sadly.

'He was a good friend. And I let him down.'

'From what you told me? I don't think so. His bloodsucker girlfriend whammys his mind and tries to turn him into a vampire, and you stopped her. How's that letting him down?'

Ray looks down at his feet, then takes a deep breath and forces a smile. 'I guess he didn't realise she was messing with his head. I almost hit him, you know. But I hit her.' He taps the center of his forehead. 'Anyway. Like I said, the consulate is just up here. That's where my sources say he's staying.'

'Are you kidding me? He doesn't know you're coming? I thought you said he knew you were coming, Vecchio.'

'No, I said he probably expects me to come by. Look, I haven't spoken to him in five years but he was my friend.'

'And you need his help.'

'Friendships, right?'

'Yeah yeah, duets. Whatever.'

Ray leads the way to the old building, stops at the bottom of the steps. The entrance has been cleared, even swept, and the door is clean. No doubt left. This, this is Fraser's work.

'You wait here,' he says to Kowalski. 'I uh, don't want to...' He trails off and shrugs, then turns and ascends the steps, knocks on the door. He hears footsteps after a moment and they stop on the other side of the door; it's another several seconds before the key turns in the lock and the door opens in.

'Detective Vecchio,' Ben greets them formally. He has one hand resting on the door handle, the other behind his back; he doesn't invite them in. 'That must be your partner, Detective Kowalski.'

'It's good to see you, Benny.'

'I prefer Sergeant Fraser, if you don't mind.' He's wearing the brown uniform, although it is worn and ill-fitting.

'Benny, drop it, okay? Five years and you can't let this go? She had altered your mind!'

'Am I to assume that you aren't here in a professional capacity?' He's already stepping back in preparation for closing the door.

'Fraser, don't do this again,' Ray orders and takes a step forward, only to be halted by Dief, growling and baring his fangs. 'Whoa! Dief, relax.'

'If you'll excuse me, I do have matters to attend to.'

'Benny, wait.' Ray holds up his hands. 'Why are you back here?'

'I simply do not have the time for this, Detective Vecchio, and actually, I was hoping to circumvent the explanation.'

Ray sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. 'I understand that you don't like me anymore, Benny, I really do. But we need your help.'

Ben hesitates, then steps to the side and motions them in. 'Why didn't you say so?' he remarks.

**

'So you think he can do it?' Kowalski tosses his shirt toward the laundry basket like it's a ball into a hoop.

Ray just rolls his eyes and catches it in flight before it inevitably misses and drops it in the hamper. 'Yeah, he can do it. He's the best. Always was.'

'He's been living in the back of beyond for five years,' Kowalski points out as he slides off his jeans without unbuttoning them. 'How sure can you be that he's still got it?'

'It isn't an issue. You wanna pick those up? Show a little respect for your living space, Kowalski.' Ray waves a hand at the jeans and sneakers discarded now at the side of the bed. 'If he couldn't do it he would say so. He'd take any excuse to get out of working with me.'

Kowalski just kicks the clothes under the bed and crawls under the covers. 'Who you gonna send over tomorrow? Now that you got him on the job, I mean.'

'You gotta be joking me, right?' Ray finishes hanging up his suit and falls on the bed. 'Much as he doesn't like me, he'd be offended if I didn't act as liaison. He won't work with anyone else, and I can guarantee you that.'

'But you need to go interview that guy. About the other thing. With the, the...'

'The thing,' Ray finishes with a sigh. 'Forgot about that.' He scoots up the bed and punches the pillow in a vain attempt to plump it up.

Kowalski throws blankets over him and sprawls out, draping half his body over Ray. 'I'll go see this Fraser guy. Take him to the scene. Don't worry, he'll work with me. I got charm.'

'Charm. Yeah, sure,' Ray snorts, but doesn't protest the arrangement. He turns onto his back and lets his eyes close. 'Thanks.'

**

He didn't have a name until he was sent down, and he picked that out of the mind of the man who stopped to help him. The one he's looking for didn't have a name either.

It's been difficult to track her. Just because Ray took out her corporeal body doesn't mean she died; her kind, his kind, don't die like that. There isn't anything in this plane, on this world, that can damage their consciousness and until they're called back they can't leave this place; which is one reason he's here.

She had a job to do, and she did it. But it's done now, and it's his turn to take over.

The door to the former consulate eases open after several moments and Sergent Fraser stands there in his ill fitting uniform. He looks tired; he looks like he's been tired for a long time, and there's a sadness in his eyes that Kowalski knows well, and he feels kinda bad for being a part of what put it there. But that's a fleeting emotion and he can't start second guessing the head honchos now, after so long.

'Ah. Is Detective Vecchio not accompanying you today?' Fraser asks in a perfectly polite voice only barely edged with accusation.

'Nah, he had some interview set up with someone we been trying to talk to for fucking ages,' Kowalski says, excusing his partner. 'You got me today, Fraser. You ready to go? Pitter patter, time waits for no Medium, don't matter how good you are.' He flashes a grin and circles his hand to emphasize his haste.

'Let me get my hat.' Fraser steps back, only leaving the door open because Diefenbaker chooses that moment to sit next to it.

'Hey there.' Kowalski crouches down and holds his hand out to the dog, only to have it tip its muzzle up in a blatant dismissal. 'No need to be a snob,' he mutters, straightening, and takes a quick step back when Diefenbaker whips his head around to look him in the eyes, and damn, he thinks, that ain't just any dog.

When Fraser returns he's stopped in mid step by Diefenbaker's huff of breath and soft bark; he frowns and looks at Kowalski, then really looks at him. 'You must be mistaken,' he directs down at Diefenbaker and steps out, closes the door after himself. 'He is Detective Vecchio's partner.'

'Your dog doesn't seem to like me,' Kowalski says, and motions to his car.

'Diefenbaker is half wolf. He doesn't like to dwell on the other half.' Fraser pulls the seat back for Diefenbaker, then slides into the passenger's seat. 'He simply doesn't know what to make of you.'

Kowalski glances over at Fraser, but his eyes slide off the man and focus on movement beyond the window. Oh yeah, and there she is. Her pale face is pinched with anger, her long hair blowing back from her face. She can't come any closer to him, they both know this, and that means she knows why he's come here. She lifts her arm and points an arm at him, her lips moving.

Fraser frowns slightly and raises his right hand to rub at his eyebrow. 'Shall we, Detective Kowalski?'

Kowalski directs his eyes forward and shrugs. 'Call me Kowalski,' he allows. 'And there ain't nothing to make of me, Fraser. Born and raised here. Course, things were different when I was a kid, you know? But I guess they always are.'

They make the drive in silence, except for Kowalski tapping out songs on his steering wheel, occasionally singing along. He pulls up at an old apartment building that's in danger of falling over, and parks in the opposite direction of its tilt.

'In here,' he says quietly, almost respectfully. He can see what's in there, one of the abilities that never went away, but he can't tell anyone, can't let them know what they can't see. And what they can't see, what even the Mediums can't see, is so sad and terrible that he's glad he can't say anything about it.

Fraser stands before the building and closes his eyes, lets his chin drop to his chest. He holds his hand out and Diefenbaker licks it, then nudges it with his head. 'I...' He presses his lips together and takes a deep breath. 'Let's be as quick as possible,' he finally says.

'Why? It's just some ghost, right, just---'

'No,' Fraser interrupts softly. 'No 'just' anything. It's...I am glad you cannot see it, Detective Kowalski. What is here...' He trails off with a shake of his head. 'Well. Shall we?'

It wasn't nice, not in any way, what went down here; just a reminder of what happened across the world, though. Vampires, werewolves, mages; and no, he wasn't actually here then, but he's built himself the memories to compensate for that, and he feels the pain of it. Everywhere he looks he can see the pain of how it ripped the world apart. It's standing at his side, after all.

Kowalski leads the way in, hesitant as they climb the stairs, half afraid they're going to give way. They reach the third floor, and Fraser frowns deeply.

'There's something recent here.' His left hand goes out in front of him, then drifts over to the wall, fingertips brushing over the peeling wallpaper. 'Dief.'

The half-wolf trots down the hall, sniffing at doors; he stops at one and crouches down, whines, puts his paws over his eyes.

'Thought you were the Medium, not your dog,' Kowalski teases as he walks toward Diefenbaker. Fraser stops him with a hand to Kowalski's shoulder.

'He's half wolf,' he reminds him. 'And please remain here. I work better when I am left alone. Especially in these, ah, circumstances. You wish to know if the one you found here knew her murderer?'

'Something like that. Like Vecchio said, we couldn't get any other Medium in here, and we gotta solve this for her. She was just a kid.'

Fraser follows Diefenbaker through the doorway, and closes the door softly.

Kowalski stuffs his hands in his pockets and stares down at his boots. When he looks back up he sees her, hazy at the far end of the hallway. 'You done your job,' he says softly, so quietly that he barely hears his own voice.

'But I didn't.' She doesn't move, but Kowalski hears her voice in his ear, a hiss, a crackle like white noise.

'No,' Kowalski assures her with deep sadness. 'You did.'

'He gives every consideration for a man he hates! He still stands with them!' Her voice is painful on his nerves and it feels like fire on the slashes over his back; he winces, hunches instinctively.

'Going through the motions,' he says. 'You broke him. In a way no one should have.'

She seems to solidify for a moment, to stand straighter, chin raised in pride. 'I am free to go?'

'A job well done,' Kowalski repeats. 'Go home.'

She looks to the closed door and her face softens; and then she is gone, as if never there.

Kowalski lets out a long breath and pushes a hand through his hair, leaving it even more disarrayed. His head snaps up when the door opens. Diefenbaker comes out first and bolts down the stairs and from the building. Fraser follows slowly, replacing his hat on his head. He pauses in the hall, fingertips squeezing the bridge of his nose as he takes a few moments to compose himself. Then he looks up, takes a deep breath and turns, walks toward Kowalski.

'We good to go?' he asks Fraser. 'You find anything out?'

'She was not murdered,' is all Fraser says, not stopping as he passes Kowalski.

And he doesn't push for more, just lets him go and follows silently until they are outside again. 'Come on. I'll buy some lunch,' he offers, pulling open the car door.

'If you could please drop me off at the Consulate I would be most grateful,' Fraser declines, getting in. 'Diefenbaker has decided to walk home.'

For once Kowalski doesn't rev the engine, showing respect for what he knows happened in that little room.

**

Standing on the roof of the apartment complex gives a taste of what he's working for; up here he can feel the wind rushing against his skin, a poor substitute for the real thing but a taste of it that's enough to soothe him. He's standing here in his jeans, shirtless, shoeless, leaning over the edge.

'One of these days I'm going to find your body all over the pavement.' Ray's voice is pitched low, careful not to spook him. He stands a few feet back, coat pulled tight around his body to protect against the chill. 'What do I do then? You know how hard it is to find a decent partner?'

Kowalski turns and flashes a grin. 'I'm not gonna jump,' he says. 'And it's too high a wall to just fall over.'

'You're crazy, Kowalski. You might get in your head to fly.'

'Not that crazy, Vecchio.' He steps away from the door and shrugs. 'You been interviewing that guy all day?'

'Just got back. You eat yet?'

'Nah. Waiting for you. Come on, I'll get it started.' He leads the way back to their apartment. He's had time to think since he left Fraser earlier, to figure out exactly what he's supposed to do, and he thinks he knows now. He was never meant to stay here, not forever, not even for a human lifespan. His time with Vecchio has always been limited. He doesn't want to hurt the man when he leaves, and in order to leave, he has to set the final test for Fraser.

'Benny find anything?' Ray hangs up his coat and rubs his hands to warm them as he joins Kowalski in the kitchen.

'There was no murder,' Kowalski answers, pulling things out of the fridge. 'That's all he said. No murder, no one to look for. She did it to herself.'

'She still there?'

'Don't know. He didn't say.' But he does know, and no she isn't there anymore; Fraser sent her on with a smile and a kiss, just like she was going home to her mother. It's going to be a long time before she sees her mother.

'You okay?' Ray moves to his side, rests a hand in the small of his back. 'That place freaked you out when we were there.'

'I'm good.' Kowalski sets up the pans and begins tossing stuff into them. 'Tell me what you got out of that lowlife.'

**

Ben has been standing at the doorway for close to an hour now. He passed Detective Kowalski on his way up the stairs and was assured that Ray was still at home. It brought an unexpected flash of pain, maybe jealousy, to know that the two men were so involved. Even though he had left first, when Victoria had invited him away, he had expected Ray to remain celibate, as atonement for what he'd done. It was a petty thought, he knows that, and he doesn't care. He's spent five years hoping that Ray has been in as much pain as he has been. He sees now that Ray simply moved on, as he should have done.

The door yanks open and Ben finds himself staring at Ray, that same face he had once loved; older now, a few more lines, his eyes tired and haunted, but still the same mouth that he kissed with such passion.

'Benny!' Ray greets him with a wide smile, caution in his eyes. 'Come on in.'

'Were you leaving? I wouldn't wish to detain you,' Ben says.

'Was going to head in early but that doesn't matter. Come on.' He waves Ben in and shuts the door, bends down to ruffle Dief's fur. 'Hey there, mutt. Sorry, no doughnuts or pizza these days. You want a drink, Benny? Tea?'

'No, thank you,' Ben refuses and takes off his hat so his hands have something to do. He looks around, feeling lost in the unfamiliar apartment. His eyes rest on a small wooden statue that he had given Ray one year, sitting next to a framed picture of Ray and Kowalski.

'Kowalski told me there was no murder,' Ray says, sitting in one of the chairs at the dining table. 'Suicide.'

'Yes,' Ben sighs and rubs his forehead.

'Sent her on to the light, I guess?' The look on Ray's face says he knows the truth, but begs Ben to lie.

'Of course. She was just a child,' Ben answers dutifully and forces a smile. 'Detective Kowalski seems like a, ah, dedicated officer.'

'Kowalski? Yeah. He is. Fucking insane, though. Jumps at nothing, freaks over the smallest things. And you've seen his hair, right?' But Ray says it with such affection.

'The two of you suit each other,' he says. 'I should be going. I wanted to, that is, if you need me. Please feel free to contact me.' He puts his hat back on.

'Don't go yet, Benny,' Ray says. 'You just got here.'

'No, I can't. Good morning, Detective.'

'Just, wait. What if I wanted to drop by and say hi?' Ray asks, because no one got anywhere without daring.

Ben hesitates, then nods. 'Of course,' he allows, and it's strange how something seems to unknot inside, like letting out a breath he's been holding for five years. He leaves quickly, taken off guard by the emotion and not wanting to push himself any farther.

**

It happens faster than Kowalski expects it to. He wakes up in the morning and Ray isn't back from night shift yet. He considers making breakfast for the both of them only instead he is struck by pain across his chest. He staggers back, hand slapped over his heart, and gasps for breath.

'Not yet,' he grinds out. 'Come on, I ain't done yet!'

He gets his answer in the loosening of the pain; it fades to a dull throb, a reminder that he doesn't have much time. He stands again, and just in time. The door swings shut, and Ray drags his feet into the kitchen, exhausted and worn out.

'Morning,' Kowalski greets him, still breathless. 'You hungry? Coffee?'

'No,' Ray refuses. 'Tired. Going to bed.'

Kowalski just stares at him for a few moments, taking in the sight of him. 'Sure. I'll wake you up when I get home, okay?'

'Yeah.' It's a testament to how tired Ray is that he drops his coat on the couch before heading into their room.

Kowalski waits until he's sure Ray is asleep, then dresses, spends several moments standing next to the bed watching Ray sleep. He bends and presses a soft kiss to his forehead and leaves. He doesn't drive, just in case he doesn't get to Fraser's before they lose patience with him; wouldn't really be a good idea to die behind the wheel. It takes longer than he expected to reach the consulate, and he barges in without knocking.

Ben sits on the stairs, fully dressed, staring at the entrance. Dief is lying at the bottom of the stairs, and he whines as Kowalski walks up.

'You know where she's gone to,' Ben states, tilting his head to stare at Kowalski.

'That girl?' He sits next to Ben. 'Yeah. I know.'

'And...Victoria.' The word is ripped from him, full of pain.

Kowalski licks his bottom lip, then shrugs. 'Sent her home.'

Ben just nods. 'What are you?' he finally asks.

'Just a guy.' Ben knows it's a lie of course, but he doesn't push it further.

'The blood seeps through your shirt. On your back,' he does point out. 'I doubt anyone else can see it. I've seen it before.'

'Best to not mention it.' And then Kowalski does something he's never done before, something he's sure will get him stuck in purgatory for another millennia. 'You should have died. Out there, in the Territories. You know that, right? They wanted to see, Fraser. If a soul as good as yours could be broken. If it could be fixed.'

'And you?'

'Me? I'm nobody, just a guy, like I said. Got a job to do, you know? I do my job.'

'And what was your job? How did it require using Detective Vecchio?' He sounds angry now, and that, Kowalski thinks, is a good thing.

'I didn't use Ray. Shit. I like him. But I came here to send her home, Fraser. Help you move on, if you could.'

'Ray will be devastated when you leave.'

'He'll forget me, Fraser. So will you. In time I'm just gonna be a faint memory to you all.'

'I highly doubt that.'

'Look, I came here to say that you gotta take care of him. You think you can do that for me?' Kowalski stares down at his hands, hoping to get this one last thing sorted.

'Of course, Detective Kowalski.'

'Thanks.' He stands, slaps Ben on the shoulder. 'You're a good guy.' He starts toward the door, falters as the pain hits again. He takes a step to the side, frowning when Ben rushes past him and drops to his knees next to...ah. Next to his body.

He leaves the scene behind. He's done here now, and it's time to move on. He walks out into the chilly morning and looks up, hoping for that rift, calling him home. What he gets is a full body shudder as the last vestige of his life here falls away, and he drifts.

**