Author's Notes: Written for LiveJournal's ds_snippets community - for the Rapid-Fire Challenge 2 - prompt of train

Story Notes: Unbeta'd, so it might suck. For Prudence_dearly, because she's that wonderful.

Fraser wakes, gasping for breath, phantom pain blooming low in his back. His hand is outstretched and he can still feel the vibration in his bones.

Those are his sense memories of Victoria: the flicker of candlelight, the rumble of a train, the taste of snow on her fingers, and the smell of blood.

He shuts his eyes tightly against the tears and hears the bedside lamp click on. The bed dips slightly as Ray gets up and pads into the bathroom, and all Fraser can think of is the way Victoria looked at him as he ran to catch up with her.

Sometimes he imagines regret, and sadness, and love in her eyes as he stumbles and falls. Her beautiful face, pale but alive and wanting him, needing him. The other half of his soul.

Other times, Fraser sees her clearly. He recognizes the greed and hunger etched on her face, too many years of wanting and not having scarring her soul.

He often wonders how long she would have managed to hide the broken pieces of herself if he'd gone with her, if Ray Vecchio hadn't misaimed and misfired. How long before she put the muzzle of her gun to his temple and pulled the trigger?

He's so lost in his miserable reverie that the soft touch of Ray's hand startles him. Ray holds a glass of water that Fraser accepts gratefully, swallowing against the rising tide of bitterness and regret. When he's done, he hands the glass back to Ray, trying to find his voice to express his gratitude, but Ray silently shrugs it off.

Ray sets the glass carefully on the nightstand, turns off the light and crawls back under the covers, drawing Fraser into his arms, holding tight. And for a while, it's enough.