Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own em.

Author's Notes:

Story Notes:

This story is a sequel to: Tangled Up.

....And Blue

"Kowalski, how come you look like shit after two days off?" Welsh growls at me.

"Need a minute, Lieutenant," I tell him seriously, leaning in his doorway.

He frowns. Nods. I go in and close the door, lean against it, trying to gather my thoughts. "I'm thinking maybe I'm burnt out," I finally say. "Maybe it's time to quit while I'm ahead."

He leans back in his chair and studies me. "Time to quit," he says, just repeating it. "Sit down, Kowalski."

I really don't want to. But I do.

"This go back to the other night, or have you been thinkin' about it for a while?" He's got his eyes narrowed.

I shrug. "Mostly the other night, I guess. I fucked up."

He doesn't say anything for a minute. "Case got to you bad, happens sometimes. We all have one of those, Kowalski. Doesn't make you a bad cop."

I lace my fingers together and look at them. "Doesn't it? What if we don't get her? What if she stops? I-" I have to stop then, my throat gets too tight. Take a breath, rub my nose and try again. "If we don't get anything else on her, it could be that I fucked our one chance."

Welsh doesn't say anything for a minute. Finally sighs and leans forward. "About fifteen years ago, I had a case that got to me. Lot like this. We knew who the guy was, we knew, but we didn't have the evidence yet. I broke into the guy's car. My partner hauled my ass back before I did anything more. I'll bet Fraser was trying to haul you back."

I nod without looking at him. "He had to catch up with me, and then shit just happened so fast. So what happened in your case?" I need to know, I need to know before I decide what I'm going to do.

"We watched the bastard like a hawk, and we got him when he went trolling for his next vic. We got him before he did her."

It's not pretty. I try and imagine that, and rub my face. "Fuck."

"You're a good cop, Kowalski. You did a stupid thing. I don't think you'll do it again. What do you think?"

"I don't know." I don't think I'll be that stupid again, but I do wonder just how good a cop I am. Beth Bottrelle is what comes to mind and even after all this time, that still hurts. All those trips to chamber, I wonder if she'll ever get past it. "I don't know, Lieutenant."

He leans forward a little more. "Come on, Kowalski, talk to me. What else is going on?"

I tighten my fingers, watch the skin slide over my knuckles. "I'm just thinking, Lieutenant."

"Yeah? Thinking isn't a bad thing, necessarily. Beating yourself up, that's a different story."

I finally look up at him, shrug.

"How's Fraser," he asks.

Damn. He puts his finger on it, he just fucking knows.

I roll my shoulders, sigh. "He's still pretty sore. Back hurts a lot." Welsh is still studying me. What the hell. "Fraser-the bullet in his back is moving, I guess. Doc wants him to have surgery." I can hear how tired I sound. "He's thinkin' about it, I guess. Going to get a second opinion, see what's what."

"Damn." He looks away. Sighs. "Look. You keep thinking, Kowalski. Give yourself some time. If you need time off, you got it. You need to see somebody, go, I'll keep it off your jacket."

I sit up straight. Wow. That's an offer I didn't expect. Everything goes on your fucking jacket, including my fucking divorce. I nod, though. "Thanks." For listening, for giving a shit, for telling me I'm not a hopeless fuckup.

He gets it. Nods at me and picks up his pen. "Keep me updated, ah, on Fraser, will ya?"

I nod again. Get up and go back to my desk.

Second doc says the same thing, but a lot more insistent, so we go back to see Donnelly, because we both liked her better.

And the upshot is that Fraser's going in the hospital this morning, which is why we're both up at Oh Dark Thirty and he's wearing a hospital gown and waiting for them to come and get him for surgery.

I hate this, hate this, hate this. But I'm acting as chipper as I can, trying not to bounce off the fucking walls, teasing him about how he's going to be at my mercy for a while.

That gets a little smile, and then I sit down on the bed and tangle our fingers together, lean in for a kiss. "Think we got time for me to give you a quick blow job?"

He laughs, startled. "I don't think so."

"Damn. Should have thought of it earlier. I could stick a chair under that door handle."

He laughs again, a little more real. "I still think someone would notice."

"Hey, let 'em get their own Mountie, I had to work hard to get mine."

His eyes warm. "Well, only a little," he says and tugs me down for a kiss.

I kiss him once, then again, then the third time. Third time's a charm, I tell myself, for luck, for his health, for him. Lean close to his ear and I whisper, "I love you. Everything's gonna be fine, I won't let it be any other way."

His eyes are too bright when I lean back. "Do you promise," he asks, trying to make it light, but his voice trembles a little.

"On my life." I kiss him three more times, no sense in breaking the luck.

The door opens then, and they come to get him, and I walk down with them, but then I can't go any farther.

So it's wait, wait, wait.
I have this superstitious feeling that if I leave the hospital, something will go wrong. About eleven o'clock, Welsh shows up with a sandwich and coffee, hands 'em both to me without saying much.

"Still in there?"

I nod. Coffee's good, but I can't even look at the sandwich. It's been a long time, I get up and start pacing, too nervous to think about anything but why it's taking so long.

He watches me for a while, just sips at his own coffee. Finally, as my loops are getting bigger and I'm ready to go stand on the counter of the nurse's station, he says, "Looks like we got some more evidence. Witness remembers seeing Ms. Winthrop with Merrilee Jackson the day of her disappearance. ID'd her from a photo."

I turn my head so fast my neck cracks. "Yeah?" Probably the only thing he could say to keep me from choking news out of somebody. "Yeah? So what's next?"

"So, we talk to her again. See what she has to say about that. She'll lie, naturally."

"Everybody lies," I say automatically, and then I see somebody coming down the hall in scrubs.

Oh, yeah, and I'm out of the waiting area, on my way to meet Donnelly. She looks tired, but pleased. "He's in recovery, Mr. Kowalski. It was a bit more complicated than the scans showed us, but everything went very well. They should be moving him to a room in about thirty minutes to an hour, depending on how he does with the anesthetic, and then you can see him."

"He's okay, right? No damage, he's going to be okay?" I'm pleading with her, practically begging her.

She's a nice woman, she takes one of my hands. "He's going to be fine. There may be some tingling and numbness, we did a little repair on the disc there, and we may need to schedule some physical therapy, but I feel pretty safe in predicting a full recovery. Now you just have to keep him from getting hit by cars."

"No problem." My knees are wobbling, and I feel like my face is splitting, I'm so damn happy and relieved, and I'm lightheaded as hell, but it's okay.

Welsh is standing there all of a sudden, and he grabs my arm when I sway a little, guides me back and makes me eat the sandwich. "You're bouncing again," he growls. "Settle."

I grin at him, and eat, watching the clock, and then a nurse comes in and tells me they're moving Fraser, and I'm off like a shot, following her down the hall and into the elevator and down another hall, and they've just gotten him in bed, and he's pale as the sheets he's lying on, and really zoned, drifting in and out.

He drifts in long enough for me to lean over the bed. "Hey, I'm here, Ben buddy." Softly.

He blinks, makes a sound in his throat.

The nurse hands me this little cup of water with a weird sort of sponge on a stick. "He can suck on this if he's thirsty," she tells me and vanishes.

"You thirsty, Ben?"

He makes that sound again, so I hope I'm guessing right and swab his mouth with it. Oh, yeah, I guessed right, and he sucks the water right out of the sponge, licks his lips and sinks under again.

"You, ah, want me to tell people at the station? I can give you a day, but they're gonna wanna know, and it's better we don't wait too long." Welsh is there, and I flat forgot he was.

Oh. I shift from foot to foot. "Yeah. Yeah, that's cool. Frannie'd be upset, and some of the guys."

He nods. "Good. Take it easy and try to get some rest."

He's gone then, and Fraser stirs again, opens his eyes and squints at me. I can do what I want to do, which is lean in and kiss his forehead and the corner of his mouth. "Hey," I say softly, and there's a lump in my throat the size of a grapefruit. "Hey, you're doin' okay, Ben. Doc says you're gonna be good as new."

He makes another sound, to let me know he heard me, sinks under again for a minute, and comes back to squint at me again. Real fuzzed, real fuzzed on the drugs. I pet his hair a little, give him some more water. They've got him on one of those pump systems, hit the button every ten or fifteen minutes to get a hit, and the nurse put it in his hand. His fingers are slack though, and I guess that's okay. If he needs it, he'll wake up enough I can explain it to him again.

I never felt so much, never, seeing him like this. I thought I knew how scared I was before he went under the knife, but now that I know he's okay, I see I only knew half of it. I wrap my hand gently around his free hand, and hook the chair closer to the bed with my foot so I can sit down.

I put my head down on the edge of his bed, mostly because I haven't been sleeping any too good in days, worrying about this, worrying about him, and trying to keep him from worrying. I close my eyes and let myself drift a little, because I can feel if he shifts and wants more water or just to see that he's here and I'm here and it's okay.

Nurse comes in after a while and startles me awake.

"I just need to check him," she says and I scoot out of the way, rubbing my eyes a little.

Fraser stirs a little and says my name, his voice husky, and I'm up at the side of the bed in a heartbeat. "Hey, what's up?" Softly.

The nurse looks at me sideways, smiles a little. "He's still pretty groggy. Probably will be for the rest of the day."

Yeah, yeah, I'm not stupid, but I scoot back in when she leaves, give Fraser a little more water. "How ya doin?" I lean over the bed.

"Mmm." That sort of sounds like not too hot to me, but there's not a lot I can do.

So I pet his hair a little, tell him again what the doc said. He seems to hear me, nods and then slides under again. This time, though, he's holding onto my fingers a little, so I just stand there until his go relaxed again.

Rest of the day passes pretty much like that. I nap a little, my head back on the bed so I can feel if he stirs, and I'm Johnny on the spot when he needs more water. He's not real with it until about seven, and even then he's fuzzed pretty good.

Not talking much, but they decide he can have some jello and some broth, that he's done pretty good post anesthetic, and he does fine with that. Somebody ordered me a tray, though, and I have to admit, that really made me choke up a little. So I eat a hospital meal that isn't the greatest, but hey, it feeds the big hollow space inside me. The landlady's taken a liking to Dief, so I know he's good until I get home, and I'm not leaving until they throw me out. Fraser's starting to wake up a little more, and he seems to be happy to just hold my hand in between dozing, and not in too much pain.

He's happy, then I'm happy, and I watch a ton of stupid TV sitcoms until the nurse comes in to check him for the night, and tells me I need to be leaving.

So as soon as she's gone, I kiss him. "Want anything from home?"

His eyes are really dilated from the drugs, and he gives me just the ghost of a loopy smile. "Just you."

Heh. I kind of appreciate a stoned Mountie, too, which probably makes me scum, but I kiss him again. "You got it, Ben."

He holds on to my hand. "Thank you, Ray." Real firm.

That puts another lump in my throat. "Freak. Where else would I be?"

Another loopy grin. "Nevertheless."

Okay, so I can't stop kissing him. Not because I want to jump him, but because of what I'm feeling. "Yeah, well, I remember a guy sleepin' in a cot in Kuglukwhatever. You think I'm not gonna be here to make sure they treat you right, you're more unhinged than I thought."

He actually chuckles a little, but by the time I get my jacket and head out, he's mostly gone again. I mute the television and then I'm gone, headed home.

Dief is all over me, landlady or not, and I tell her thanks and she asks me how Fraser's doing.

So I tell her good, real good, and she looks pleased. Weird, I never used to talk to my landlady, and since Fraser showed up, we've gotten almost friendly. Of course, anybody who doesn't like Fraser has to be a freak, so it's not exactly unusual.

So Dief and I get some sleep, and I let him sleep on the bed, because I can tell he's freaked out about Fraser not being here. Reminds me of the time Fraser pretended to be dead. Maybe Dief really is deaf.

What am I saying? Maybe he's just a dog and doesn't get it, although over the last few years I'm not sure I could prove that.

The damn dog understands that Inuit language, after all.

I sleep like a rock until I wake up at 5 am and it's still dark, and Dief jumps all over me, licking me and making those Walk Me noises.

About a half a pot of coffee later, I walk him and talk to him about Fraser. Jeez, and to think I once told Fraser his talking to the dog embarrassed me.

Back at the apartment, I make up a thermos of Fraser's bark tea, grab the last book he was reading, and head out. Sure, it's early, and I know damn well they're going to have him awake and taking blood or vital signs or some shit like that. The bakery down the street is open, so I grab him a couple of muffins, just in case they're letting him have real food yet, and then I'm gone.

We'll probably have a bunch of people from the station come in today, and I'm stealing my alone time, not going to waste it. And sure enough, he's awake, more or less, and his face lights up a lot when I come in.

So I get to steal a few kisses, and I pour him some bark tea and get one of those great loopy grins. "I'll have to marry you now, Ray."

That tickles me, him remembering the joke and tossing it back at me, and it's a relief, too, that he's feeling good enough to make a joke. "Name the time and place, Ben buddy."

He takes a sip of the tea, closes his eyes like it tastes so good, so I guess I made it right. "Oh, this is nice."

I'm such a lame puppy, I kiss him again. "Hey, can't start the day right without your tea." I hold up the book. "I figure when you can see straight again, you might want this." That gets me one of those looks again, one of those that make me wobble, and I drag the chair up next to the bed and give him a muffin. "You allowed to eat yet?"

"Allegedly." He looks at the muffin. "I certainly feel like I could."

"Have at it," I tell him, "I'll take the heat if there is any."

Heh.

Doc comes by around sevenish, and tells him he's doing great, pretty much tells him in more detail what she told me yesterday. She wants to see how he does today before she has them get him up and moving around, though. Surprises me a little, I figured he'd be down a lot longer, but he grins at me and wiggles his feet under the blanket.

Donnelly laughs at that. "I told you, we have better techniques these days, and of course we do as little damage as possible going in."

"Good thing," I say, heartfelt.

Fraser just grins again, completely in tune with that.

She leaves after checking the incision, and even though I don't have an iron stomach, I take a peek over her shoulder.

I expected it to look worse, so it's a relief, neat red line with surgical staples. Staples look worse than the line, to tell the truth.

She nods and hmmmms, and then puts the tape back down and smooths it. I'm in her way and she just misses my foot, gives me a grin when I apologize. "It feels much worse than it is, I'm afraid. All those nerve endings."

"Not as painful as I expected," Fraser says, but of course he's slightly stoned.

"We'll see how you do tomorrow. If you're still doing well, we may be able to get you off the pump, but I believe in controlling pain effectively. We don't want your blood pressure going either too high or too low." She pats his foot. "I'll have a look in tonight when I do rounds."

"Thank you kindly, Doctor," he says and gives me one of those sweet, loopy smiles.

Swear to God, smiles like that, loopy or not, and I fall for him all over again.

We have about three hours together alone before people start filtering in. The baby Mountie shows up first, just a drop by, earnest as always. Frannie comes in while the baby Mountie is there, and let me tell you, some sparks fly. Evidently the baby Mountie likes those dark Italian girls, he's got his radar locked on and boy, I never saw Frannie act bashful before, but then Munro has Fraser's kind of intensity only he's aiming it at Frannie.

Really hilarious.

Gets funnier when somehow, someway, Frannie twigs to me and Fraser. Six months and more since we got back from the Territories and she twigs, and her eyes get big, but Munro is asking her if she'd like to have lunch with him, and that distracts her long enough that Huey and Dewey come in to say hey, and she just gives me this look that promises I'm going to get 'broiled' later.

With any luck, Munro will distract her totally from that.

Some of the other people from the station filter in and out, just short visits, mostly, and I sort of rotate in and out to keep it from being too obvious that I'm there for the duration. Fraser gets it, all right, but when Cecil shows up around one, I don't go anywhere.

I mean, Cecil hasn't put the make on him or anything, but look, he's good looking even if he's got a steel rod up his ass, and he's Canadian, and yeah, that makes me a little.hell, it makes me a little insecure sometimes.

He and Fraser get along, guess Cecil didn't have any hard feelings about being turned down back when, and that's cool, but Cecil doesn't much like me, I don't think, and I have to admit he gets my back up some.

Especially now. He looks at me like I'm something he scraped off his shoe. "Perhaps you could take more care that your partner doesn't get injured in future," he tells me, baring his teeth in something that's supposed to be a smile.

Fraser's stoned, but not so stoned he doesn't catch that, and he frowns. "Actually, sir, it was Ray Vecchio who shot me, not Ray Kowalski." Real mild, even with the frown.

"I was referring to the incident with the automobile," Cecil tells him, still trying to make it a joke.

"Ah. Well, I was standing in the middle of the street," Fraser says and looks at me long enough to keep me from just exploding out of my chair and decking the guy.

Cecil mumbles something, tells Fraser not to rush the healing process, and leaves.

"I'm gonna kick him in the head someday," I growl. Fraser shifts, winces, and I'm up. "Use the damn pump, Ben."

"I will, I will. I don't like being so foggy." Apologetic tone.

I feel bad for snarking at him. "I gotcha. But I hate seeing you hurt."

He smiles a little. "This isn't bad, overall. I won't wait too long, Ray, I'm not a masochist."

"I hope not." I steal another kiss. "They won't let ya come home."

He laughs at that, and we talk about Dief, and Welsh stops by after six, and by that time, I'm too tired to take off so I'm glad he knows. He doesn't stay long, and I'm glad about that, too, because it's getting harder to act like we're just buddies, and if Welsh is more or less okay with it, I don't want to do anything to make him less okay with it.

The nurses, natch, are crazy about Fraser, even if a couple of them have figured out that we're a couple, and he gets just the right amount of attention. After dinner, he decides he wants to try and get up, so I buzz for the nurse, because that makes me real nervous.

One of the guy nurses shows up. "Let's start out slow," he suggests. "Let's try moving to the other chair."

I leap up and shove the armchair around to the right side of the bed, and the nurse, guy named Tom Baker, grins a little at me. "Good thinking," he says and helps Fraser get upright. I watch him carefully while he does it; he leans in, has Fraser put an arm around his shoulder and then leans back, not hauling him but letting Fraser use him like a lever. I make a mental note of that for when we go home, and then get out of the way.

Fraser sits on the edge of the bed with his legs dangling for a minute, kind of pale, but after a minute, he seems okay. More than okay, he looks happy and relieved.

Reminds me how scary it had to be, wondering how bad the surgery might be, how it might turn out, and I want to send Doc Donnelly a dozen roses. Or kiss her. Or both.

So, Tom waits a minute. "Okay, you ready, or is that good enough?"

"I'm ready," Fraser says, stubborn Mountie.

I hover on his other side, watching Tom for cues, and Fraser slides off the edge of the bed to his feet, stands up, swaying just a little. Great big loopy grin this time, and it warms me up right down to my toes. He sort of shuffles to the chair, still under the influence,and sits down. Closes his eyes and smiles like sunshine.

Tom grins. "Okay, I'm going to let you sit there a bit, see how you do. You get dizzy, you buzz."

Fraser nods, eyes still closed. "Will do. Thank you kindly."

He's polite even when he's stoned, my Mountie is. I hunker down by the chair when Tom leaves and he opens his eyes.

They're a little too bright, so I know, yeah, I get it, he's so fucking relieved, probably even more than me. Hey, it's his life, after all. So we smile kind of stupid at each other, both of us a little choked up and he wiggles his toes.

I suddenly discover a thing for his feet, watching those toes wiggle. How lame is that?

Anyway, he sits up like that for about an hour, and even dozes there a little, so I drape a blanket over his legs and push my chair over beside his, watch television again while he dozes.

Tom comes back in before shift change and gets him up again, but he's doing good, he sinks back on the bed. Tom tells me apologetically that I need to head out soon, but he'll try and keep them from nagging me.

So, he leaves, I get my kiss goodnight, and nuzzle Fraser pretty thoroughly. "Can't wait until you can go home," I tell him hoarsely.

He puts a hand around the back of my neck and pulls me back down, not that I've pulled away far. "Neither can I." Serious Mountie. "Ray-I hope you understand what you mean to me, I hope you understand what you've given me."

"Uh oh," I say, "This is sounding like there's a 'but' coming."

"Are you unhinged?" He asks like it's interesting.

I grin. "Maybe."

"That explains a great deal."

I make a fist, tap his chin. "Hey, no insulting my taste in men."

He grins. "Get some sleep, Ray."

"Count on it." I kiss his mouth again. "You want anything from home tomorrow?"

"Just you." God, that smile. "And perhaps some socks."

"Gotcha." Careful hug, now that I dare, and I'm gone.

Dief's ecstatic, I have to walk him before hit the sack because he's pretty wound up. When I get back, there's a message from my dad on the answering machine, but it's late and I'm tired.

I'll call him tomorrow.

My folks and me and Fraser.

That's something I still have to deal with one of these days, but I admit it, I'm scared. Don't want to lose my folks again, and I can't see any way my dad's going to take the news that I'm in love with Fraser and not blow a gasket. No way.

I managed to get my mom to stop ironing, and I go out to eat there at least once a week, and my mom has started inviting Fraser, too, which makes me wonder if Mom's just being nice and motherly to Fraser or if she's started to figure things out.

And that's too scary to think about, so I hit the bed and snuggle up to Dief, which is pretty sick if you think about it, and finally go to sleep.

I'm on the way to the hospital the next morning when my cell rings. I've been locking it in the car the last few days, some floors won't let people use cells.

"Ray," my father barks. "Where are you?"

Oh, wow, it's only six fucking am. "Uh, I'm on my way to the hospital, Dad. Fraser had to have surgery, and I'm taking him some stuff."

There's a weird silence. "Which hospital?"

I start to get nervous, but I tell him.

"You going in to the station after you drop it off?" Real gruff. Now I'm definitely nervous. "Well, no, Dad, it's Saturday, I thought I'd hang out for a while, cheer Fraser up."

Another weird silence. "I'll come there. We need to talk, Ray."

Oh, nononono, I think, a little panicked. "Why don't I come over this afternoon, Dad? You don't have to drive all the way into town."

He hangs up.

Fuck. Oh, fuck. No, now calm down, I tell myself, you don't know what the hell it is, don't go leaping through your own asshole until you get a clue. I hit the speed dial and my mom answers.

"Hi, Mum, it's me, Dad there?"

"Of course, Ray. Your father says that your friend Fraser is in the hospital, is he all right?"

"Yeah, Mum, he had to have some back surgery. Had a bullet too close to his spinal cord from a while back."

"Oh, dear!"

"He's fine, though. Just recuperating now. Um, can I talk to Dad?"

"He just went out in the garage, let me get him."

She puts the phone down and I get to the hospital parking lot. I wait, and when she comes back, she sounds exasperated. "He says he's busy, he'll call you later."

My stomach knots up. "Okay, no problem. I'll talk to him then."

"Give Fraser our best wishes, Ray."

I hang up. Shake my head to clear it. I'm not going to get myself wound up over this, I'm not. So, I head on in, find the doc there talking to Fraser already.

"He's doing very well," she tells me cheerfully. "If he continues, he might be able to go home much earlier than I first thought."

"Yeah? How much earlier?"

"That depends on whether or not there will be someone at home with him. There are still some things that we'll want to watch out for."

"Not a problem," I tell her. Welsh already arranged for me to take a week of vacation. It's going to cut down on what I've got next summer, but hey, it's all time with Fraser anyway, one way or another.

"Then perhaps the day after tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Fraser says it hopefully.

"Don't be premature," she tells him, laughing a little. "I'll consider it. Good enough."

"Very much so." Fraser turns on the Mountie beam. Not the one I get, natch, but this one is good enough to make her knees wobble, I bet. She leaves and I get a kiss, and that one is enthusiastic enough, I take another one, just because.

"Brought you socks and running shoes and sweats," I tell him. "Just in case you wanna get really frisky and walk to the door and back."

He gives me a wicked look. "Ah, that kind of frisky."

"That's the only kind of frisky you get for a while, Benton buddy." I kiss him again, nip at his lower lip. "So just keep thinkin' healthy."

"Mmmhmmm."

Boy, he really is feeling better, with that glint in his eye. I like that, like it a lot, much better than Fraser all wiped out and snowed under with painkiller, and I help him get up and get the sweats on, since the early staff has already come in and done the cleanup honors.

"They probably fight for the chance to give you a sponge bath," I grumble, trying to figure out how to thread the whole IV thing through the sleeve. I give up and pop the door on the stupid thing, see if I can do it that way, and it sets off an alarm.

Nurse Attila comes in and scowls at me, and it turns out they're taking it away anyway, so she takes the whole IV apparatus out of the pump somehow, and that's easy to thread through. That takes a little out of Fraser, and he stretches out on top of the blankets.

"I'm afraid I don't altogether enjoy hospitals," he tells me.

Understatement of the year. "Nobody does, Ben, unless they're unhinged in a totally sick way."

"Point taken. How is Dief?"

"He misses you. I think he's pretty much toleratin' me, mostly, but that's only because I let him get on the bed."

Fraser gives me the Mountie look. "Ray, Ray, Ray. You know he's going to want to continue."

"Yeah," I tell him, "You talk tough, but I'll bet if you were in my shoes, you'd have let him sleep there, too."

He has to grin at that. "There's no sense in letting him get out of control, Ray. Give him an inch and he'll take a mile."

"Must be a Canadian thing," I tell him.

"Are you implying that I-"

"I'm not implyin', I'm saying it right out. You're a bed hog, you steal the covers like crazy." I'm grinning at him. "Fortunately, it's not as bad as it could be, you're also like a nuclear reactor, so if I plaster myself up against you, I stay nice and warm. And since I don't mind plasterin', I'm good."

Heh.

He narrows his eyes, but hey, he knows I'm right. So we spend a little time talking about our vacation next summer, and he dozes off about eleven, a little while after they give him his pain pill. So I pick up his book and start reading. He's reading about the Franklin expedition, and it's an interesting book, not like some of the dry stuff he reads sometimes, so I get buried in it, and then I hear somebody clear their throat.

I look up and wham, there goes my stomach. My dad is standing there, and he doesn't look very happy.

I get up and follow him out into the hall. "Hey, Dad, I told you, I'd come out this afternoon."

He doesn't quite look at me. "I didn't believe it at first. I didn't wanna believe it."

Oh, shit, my gut was right, this is about me and Fraser. My stomach winds up tighter than a fast ball, and I don't have a fucking clue what to say. "What," I say, and stutter a little, and then, "What're you talkin' about, Dad?"

"You," he growls, "You and your friend. Didn't I raise you right? What about Stella, this why you two broke up?"

Gut punches, I swear to God, I feel like I'm taking gut punches. "This hasn't got anything to do with me and Stella, that was over a long time ago, before I even met Fraser." It's kind of hard to breathe, and I'm trying hard to keep my voice down. I pull Fraser's door shut, and walk down the hall a little farther, I don't want him to hear this, I don't want him to fucking know about it.

"What did we do wrong? Why-" Dad waves his hand, and he's not trying to keep his voice down at all. "Jesus Christ, Ray, what's happened to you." He sounds disgusted, he sounds furious.

"Nothing," I say and then all of a sudden, I'm mad as hell, even madder than I am hurt and scared of losing them. "You didn't do anything wrong, and nothing's happened to me. I just happen to be happy, I've got somebody who loves me just the way I am, and doesn't spend our time together tryin' to make me feel guilty for bein' who I am. I'm happy. I'm sorry as hell if you can't handle who it is, but that's not my problem."

He's gotten awful flushed, and for a second, I'm scared again, scared he's going to have a heart attack on me or stroke out, but he brings up his hand and jabs a finger in my chest. "You aren't my son," he tells me, so fucking furious that he's practically spitting. "I don't know you."

I open my mouth, and I have no idea what I'm going to say, but it doesn't matter, he turns around and marches down the hallway.

So, these are my choices, I can give up somebody I love, or I can run after him, and you know, I've been here before. I have to let him go, I don't have a choice at all, and even though I feel like somebody just gutted me, I can't go after him.

I won't go after him.

So I go back in Fraser's room, and thank God for small favors, he's still asleep. So I sit down, feeling like I'm bleeding, and just stare at the wall until he wakes up. Takes me that long to put myself back together again.

Lousy fucking choices, sometimes.

Still can't say I regret making this one, though, no matter how much it hurts. So when Fraser wakes up, I can smile and pretend that nothing happened.

End .And Blue by anonymous co: JimPage363@aol.com

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