Author's website: http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/8741/jmgarden.htm

Disclaimer: Alliance owns them but I'm the one who gets to use the whip on them occasionally

Author's Notes: This is the fifth in the "MELTED CANDLES" series. This series will explore the ramifications of Benny's decision to go with Victoria and Ray's bullet missing him on the train platform in "VICTORIA'S SECRET". It will also be a two-part psychological study: is Frankie Zuko completely irredeemable, or are there good qualities in him? Ray loved him once. Would he love anyone who had no redeeming qualities whatsoever? As for the second part: does the core of a person remain the same, no matter what 'universe' they are in? Or does essential parts of self change with changed circumstances? We will see as Ray and Benny struggle to live in the world one fateful decision gave them.

Story Notes: Pairings: Frankie/Ray, perhaps Ray/Ben. Aw, what the heck. Let's throw in a little Ray/Renny while we're at it! :)
Categories: Drama, Series, AU.
Rating: NC-17.
Warning: Rape. Darkness.
(c)October 14, 2001.

This story is a sequel to: Melted Candles #4: Storm

I
MASS

I lit
A hundred candles
In the hope
That she would return

Ben lay curled up on his side on his bed, his naked body lying on top of the sheets. It was cold and dark in the room, reflecting the weather outside. Rain fell in steady torrents, lashing against the window when the wind blew. The window was open a crack, the icy air brushing over pale Canadian skin.

The smell of tomato sauce wafted through the house. It was Sunday, and the cook had left it simmering on the stove when she'd gone to church. Ray was attending Mass with his family, and Frankie would be in his family pew with Charlie and his bodyguards. Frankie believed in the old ways. Sunday was a day of rest. He altered his bodyguard schedules so that they could all get most Sundays off.

Ben was exempt from Mass. He wasn't Italian and he wasn't Catholic. He was simply a betrayer, the worst kind of sinner.

He lay frozen, his mind a blank. He let the rain flood into his brain, wishing it would wash away his sins.

The tick of the grandfather clock in the hall was loud. Ben stared at the wall, the aroma of tomato sauce keeping him from drifting away into that abyss which had swallowed him up in prison so often.

Unfortunately, it had always disgorged back into reality.

He stayed immobile until the sound of two cars driving up reached his sensitive ears.

Two car doors slammed. One car drove off. Ray and Frankie and the bodyguards would be walking toward the house. This Sunday Ray had opted to dine with Frankie, who appreciated the gesture. They would spend a quiet afternoon, perhaps go upstairs and make love, but it would be all low-key. Ben would accept Frankie's invitation to share dinner, then would walk all afternoon. He would return at dusk, declining supper, and go up to his room and read before turning in.

Ignoring his breaking heart.

He heard the murmur of voices in the foyer and rose from the bed, dressing with precision. He wore jeans and a white knit sweater. Ray and Frankie would change into more casual clothes, and then leisurely read the Sunday paper until Cook announced dinner. Ben heard Ray and Frankie's footsteps in the hall, Ray going to his own room. Despite the fact that he spent many nights in Frankie's room, he had insisted upon a room of his own. Ben took that as a good sign, though for the life of him he didn't know why he should be hoping for signs he couldn't fathom.

After he heard both men go downstairs, he followed.

"Good morning, Fraser," Frankie said heartily.

Ben murmured a greeting, painfully aware that Ray had said nothing, then his ex-partner raised his gaze from the front page and said coolly, "'Morning, Fraser."

Grateful even for that, Ben answered, "Good morning, Ray."

He took a seat in an overstuffed chair. Frankie was in the other chair. Ray was on the end of the couch closest to Frankie. Ben took the local section of the paper and began to read, heart triphammering as he smelled the faint scent of Armani cologne. His hands trembled and he willed them to stop.

He managed to read several more sections of the paper before Cook called them to dinner. The dishes were laid out on the red-checked dining-room table, the Chianti bottle a whimsical touch. Frankie inhaled the scent of the plate of pasta set before him. "Oh, Cook, this is really fine."

Ben remembered the delicious aroma and taste of Rosa Vecchio's cooking, and the pang nearly took away his entire appetite. He picked up his fork and began to eat the sauce-laden rotini, appreciating the taste but knowing that Rosa's would always be best.

"Mmm, Cook sure is a treasure, Frankie. Don't lose her," Ray said.

"Nah, she likes cooking for the Don of the South Side," Frankie said with a wink.

Ray laughed, Ben keeping silent. His stomach knotted at the banter between the two Italians. He took a roll from the basket that Cook offered and buttered it, trying to focus on the food. He managed to finish his plate, then ate the spumoni that was served for dessert. When it was over, he helped Cook carry the plates to the kitchen and went upstairs to get his jacket. He heard laughter drift down from Frankie's bedroom and he left the house at a brisk pace.

He walked the grounds, the rain soaking him as he entered the wooded area at the edge of the estate. The rain was cold, seeping into his empty places as he walked over stubbled ground, the harsh late-winter winds buffeting his body. He walked for miles under the weak sun. He realized that he had to turn back and by the time he reached the estate, darkness had fallen. He glanced up, but no light was on in Frankie's bedroom. There was a light on in the living room.

He went through the kitchen, careful to leave his workboots in the mudroom, and climbed the main staircase. He was beginning to shiver, dampness in every pore, his hair plastered down, and so he took a hot shower. He went downstairs to the living room, dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans.

He didn't miss a flicker going through Ray's eyes when the Italian looked up.

"Glad to see you again, Fraser," said Frankie from his relaxed position in his chair, his smirk an unpleasant addition to his face. "Work up an appetite for supper?"

"Yes," Ben answered quietly.

"So did we." Frankie winked at Ray, who laughed. Ben ignored the stab of pain in his stomach.

Supper was cold pasta, steamed broccoli, rice, and cucumbers. Ben took small portions, listening to the banter of his companions and appreciating the flavors of the meal.

The rest of the evening was quiet, and when Ben went to bed, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, despair quietly eating at his heart.

II
PENANCE

*She came back,*
And my soul melted
The wick drowning
In its own hellfire

Frankie made his usual rounds during the week, collecting the tribute due to him as Don of the South Side. The actual collection of monetary tribute was done by his Organization men, whose gifts of persuasion were legendary. Ben kept his eyes open for any attackers but none materialized. He remained silent as he sat next to Tonio in the front seat of the limousine while Ray and Frankie sat in the back. He did exchange pleasantries with the chauffeur, always amazed that his vocal cords still worked. He had thought that they would have been damaged beyond repair in prison. Screaming your throat raw could do that to you.

All in all, it was a pretty peaceful week, until Frankie dropped his bombshell.

"So, tell your mother that I would be happy to accept her invitation to dinner tomorrow night."

Ray looked uncomfortable, busying himself with pouring a glass of apple juice on this sparkling Thursday morning in the breakfast nook.

Ben's fork had frozen halfway to his mouth. He put it down. Suddenly his stomach was tied up in knots, and the eggs nauseated him.

"She'll be glad to hear it," Ray said, smiling at Frankie and studiously avoiding Ben's panicked eyes.

I will be going to the Vecchios'. To the home of the people I betrayed, because I betrayed Ray. And I nearly caused them to lose their home in the literal sense.

Ben left the table abruptly and ran to the bathroom, promptly losing his breakfast.

Ben was chalk-white as he sat beside Tonio, the chauffeur giving him sympathetic glances. He knew the gist of the story but as any good Organization man knew, he kept his mouth shut. He turned the car onto North Octavia, Ben barely breathing. He was as stiff as Frankenstein's monster when he got out of the car.

Frankie and Ray went up the steps of the front porch, Ben trailing behind. His stomach was rock-hard. The door opened and Maria smiled a greeting to Frankie and Ray. The tantalizing smells of tomato sauce made Ben's mouth water. Maria's expressive eyes darkened at the sight of Ben. Low words were exchanged between brother and sister, then Ray turned and said, "Wait here." Ben nodded, the door closing.

He paced up and down the porch, acutely aware of eyes watching him from every house on the street. Did they all know about his betrayal? His throat was painfully dry.

He turned and froze. Francesca was standing in the doorway, looking beautiful in a demurely-cut black dress and high heels. Her perfectly-made-up face was a thundercloud.

"You don't step foot in this house. Got that?"

He nodded and winced as she slammed the door in his face.

The cold of a late winter seemed to seep into his bones. It was April, but felt more like March. He paced up and down with restless energy, unable to leave his post but unable to leave this limbo of shame. He didn't even have Dief for company. There was no way that the wolf could be pried away from Rosa's cooking.

So he waited, an outcast, while the Vecchios and Frankie laughed and enjoyed a delicious meal in the warmth of the house. He quickly dashed away a tear.

There was no use in feeling sorry for himself. Every indignity that befell him was richly deserved. He was a betrayer who had committed an unpardonable sin. He had to spend the rest of his life in atonement. It was that simple.

He shoved his hands in his pants pockets. Besides, he had been alone before coming to Chicago for the first time years ago. If he had to be alone again, what of it? He could endure.

His heart whispered something else but he ignored it.

The door opened and he jumped. His muscles went rigid but he forced himself to turn and greet whomever was standing behind him. He saw Ray holding out a plate of pasta.

"You'd better eat it out here. I know it's cold out, but I also know you don't mind."

Ray placed the plate on the railing and Ben quickly shot out a hand to steady it. He accepted the glass of ginger ale that Ray gave him.

"Thank you," he rasped.

        Ray nodded and went back inside, turning to look at Ben, who was already gazing down at the pasta.  The door closed quietly behind Ray.
        Ben's mouth watered.  The smell drifted up and tickled his nostrils.  So rich, so good!  He picked up the fork and dug into the ziti that dripped with tomato sauce.  He let his taste buds revel and closed his eyes.  Just as he remembered.

        He ate steadily, unable to stop to even pause for breath.  Finally he drank some ginger ale and then finished off the plate.  He set it down carefully on the porch, wanting desperately to look in a window at soft, golden light inside the cozy house.  Pride and fear kept his back to the windows.

        Pride.  What a joke.  Ray would laugh himself silly.

        The eyes were watching him.  He felt as if a target was printed on his chest.  If it wasn't for the fact that he was Frankie's bodyguard, he'd be singing Soprano right now. 
        The door opened again.  Ray.

        "It was delicious, thank you kindly, Ray."

        "You're welcome."

        Ben wondered if Rosa knew about Ray's generosity.

        "Well, we'll be leavin' pretty soon." Ben nodded. "You need to use the john?"

        "No, thank you."

        Ray nodded and disappeared back inside.  Ben took a deep breath and waited until it was time to leave.

                                                     ***

        Ben sat bolt upright in bed, his mouth opened in a soundless scream.  Shaking violently, he looked wildly around the dark bedroom.  His naked body was coated in sweat and he slowly lay back down, his heart threatening to thump out of his chest.  He curled up into a shivering ball as whispers echoed in his ears. 

III
CONTRITION

I plunged myself
Into darkness
And dragged down
The one I love
A slow, terrible burn
Til the Light was gone

Ray took a deep breath, then glided the Riv into a familiar spot outside the Canadian Consulate. The maple leaf flag whipped in the wind of a cold, gray Chicago day. He got out of the car with his usual grace, passing the stone-like Mountie guarding the entryway. He smiled at the frozen man, then walked up the steps with quick bounces.

The foyer's white floor was polished to a blinding gleam, his footsteps echoing. He went up the winding staircase and smiled at the young man who began to say, "Welcome to the Canadian Consulate...Ray!"

"Hiya, Renny."

Renfield Turnbull beamed at the sight of the American. "How are you?"

"Great." They shook hands, then Ray said, "Renny, I...I feel kinda awkward asking you for a favor, after not bein' able to come around so much."

"I understand perfectly, Ray."

The thing of it was, Renny did understand. And that made it a little harder, but Ray knew that life sucked sometimes. He began to pace up and down in front of Renny's desk.

"I was wondering if you could get me information on a Canadian citizen who served time in an American prison."

"Certainly. And that would be..?"

"Benton Fraser."

Ray felt guilty about asking for the favor, but Renny promised to get in touch with him in a few days with the information. Ray drove around the lake after leaving the Consulate, parking by the hot dog stand. It was closed and so he was alone as the water rippled in the wind. An old hot dog wrapper blew by the windshield.

Renny had kept him sane in the days right after Fraser had leapt on that train. Faced with the ruin of his career, loss of his house and his family out in the street, and possible prison time for himself, he'd been at his wits' end. He hadn't known where to turn. One day he had found himself outside the Consulate. Numb with pain, he had entered the building. Renny had been there.

He was devastated at the betrayal of his hero, too. Ray had known that the younger Constable had entertained a crush on his superior officer, but there had also been an attraction between them. It had started simply enough. Ray had been impatient with Turnbull at first, but soon realized that the young man was vulnerable, and that had kicked in his protective instincts. He had sensed a wounded spirit, perhaps close to what he had suffered at his alcoholic father's hands. Whatever the reasons, he had started being more patient with the nervous Constable, more patient than even Benton Fraser. His kindness and lack of a sharp tongue when dealing with the young Constable helped their attraction grow.

And when Ray had needed him most, Renny was there.

Both had been hurting, but Renny had understood the absolute devastation of Ray's life. And whether or not Ray just needed someone in red serge to love him, Renny had filled that need. Ray had made desperate love with him, and would have continued, but then Frankie had entered the picture and the sexual relationship with Renny had to end, but the friendship continued. Frankie allowed it, amused by Ray still having a Canadian connection, and so Renny was safe.

Ray wasn't sure why he had asked Renny for the information. Why should he care what had happened to Fraser in prison? And did he want to know? He shivered and pulled his coat closer around himself. He had a good imagination, and perhaps seeing the facts in stark black-and-white was more than he cared to know.

But Fraser had been so forlorn after the dinner at home, and Ray was feeling an urge to find out more of what he had suffered, because his partner had been thoroughly humiliated at the home of his former best friend.

There had also been the whimper he'd heard. He had been passing Fraser's room one night after a trip to the bathroom, and he had heard a whimper from the bedroom. He had quietly opened the door and had seen the Canadian tossing in the throes of a nightmare. He had settled down as Ray watched and so Ray had gone back to his own bed, but he had been bothered by it.

Maybe Ray shouldn't care, but he couldn't help it.

The diner was the one that he and Fraser had often frequented. Ignoring the pang in his chest, Ray smiled at Renny and slid into the seat opposite him in the booth.

"Hello, Ray."

"Hiya, Renny."

Renny picked up a manila envelope from the seat. "I've got what you requested."

"Great, Renny!" Ray put it beside him and concentrated on Renny. He would read the information later. He needed to be alone when that happened. "So, how's the Inspector?"

"Inspector Carlyle is on holiday right now, Ray."

Andrew Carlyle had been Margaret Thatcher's replacement. She had replaced Moffat, who had been called back to Canada after one of his Mounties had run off with a criminal. She had made Renny more nervous than ever, but once Carlyle had come, he had gained more confidence and was now quietly competent.

"Hey, you and Stanley gonna go away this weekend?"

Renny blushed. "Yes."

Ray laughed. He was glad that Renny had found someone. After he'd been forced to resign from the force to join Frankie, Stanley Raymond Kowalski had been assigned to the 27th Precinct and even had his old desk! Ray had worked with Kowalski a few times and knew that he was a good cop. He had approved of Kowalski and Renny getting together, knowing that they were good for each other. He had even slipped Renny the tip about the supply closet as a good make-out place.

"Thanks again, Renny," Ray said later as he prepared to leave the diner. He was stopped by a large hand on his arm. He looked into affectionate blue eyes, and also saw the concern there.

"Please be careful, Ray."

Warmed by the younger man's concern, he smiled. "You know me, Ren. Always watchin' my back." He just hoped that a knife wouldn't end up in it someday.

He breezed out of the diner with the envelope as he returned to the world of the Mob.

Later that night Ben went into the exercise room at the Zuko house. He used a myriad of machines, then settled on the weights. He lifted the barbells, grunting with the exertion. Sweat gleamed on his arms and legs as he pushed up and down. His hair curled damply as he continued the exercises, the muscles clearly outlined as his T-shirt stretched taut across his chest.

He never noticed the shadow in the doorway.

That night, he had another nightmare.

IV
CONFESSION

Now my life
Is misshapen
Like cooling wax
And I yearn
To see the Light
Once again

Ben received a summons the next day. He felt his stomach flutter as he prepared himself to go to the master bedroom at the end of the hall that evening. He bathed and combed his hair, a fine tremor running through his body.

He walked down to the bedroom, quietly opening the door.

Frankie was lolling on the king-sized bed, his ever-present smirk filling Ben's vision. He could see Ray in his peripheral vision, and his stomach muscles tightened.

"Come on up...Fraser."

Whenever Frankie hesitated before speaking his name, Ben knew that he had almost said 'Constable'. Whether he did it on purpose or not, Ben never knew.

Ice creeped through his veins. The whispers started, teasing him as they mocked and laughed. The slight tremors continued as he walked to the bed. Frankie held out his arms.

He climbed onto the bed. Faces blurred and coelesced, hands grasping his arms as he whimpered deep in his throat. He could feel hairy skin against his body, and a mouth fastened onto his, its tongue pushing deep between his lips. Laughter drifted across his ears as he felt himself being pushed down, a hard cock brushing against his penis and the tongue deep-throating him...

With a gasp and cry, he shoved Frankie off him and bolted from the room.

"This is getting to be a habit. A bad one."

Ray shifted uneasily at the aggrieved tone from Frankie. His lover's mouth was twisted in a way that Ray recognized as losing patience with Fraser's disappearing act. He laid a hand on Frankie's arm. "I'll take care of it."

"All right." Frankie's eyes were glittering. "He shouldn't tease me this way, Ray."

"Yeah." Ray threw Frankie a smile. "I know you're impatient."

Frankie lounged against the pillows. "Not if the prize is worth it." His smile belied the hard cast of his eyes. Ray felt a flutter in his stomach.

"Yeah, well, keep your pants off, Frankie. I'll be back."

Ray went out into the hall, unmindful of his nudity as he searched for Fraser. He saw the man sitting at the end of the hall, his head and arms resting on his knees. Ray approached him carefully.

"Fraser," he said softly.

Ben didn't look up. Ray knelt beside him, one hand reaching out but stopping short several inches from the other man's arm. He dropped his hand and waited.

"I was attacked my first night in prison."

Ray strained to hear. Ben's voice was so soft he thought he might have imagined the words. He wished that he had.

"I fought them as best as I could, but there were too many of them. Big, hairy, laughing, cursing...they wanted a 'Mountee' and I understood what they were saying by their emphasis. I...I lost count after twelve. I don't know if the same twelve kept raping me or there were more. They stretched me out on my back and while one raped me orally, the other would rape me anally. When one set was done, another two took their places."

Ray felt bile rise in his throat. What he'd feared was true, only worse. He hadn't had a chance to read the folder that Renny had given him yet.

"The pain became a burning numbness after awhile. I nearly choked on the semen they kept pouring down my throat. I was bleeding from my buttocks. I was kept in the infirmary for four days, then released. They came for me again that night."

Ben continued in a voice that suggested he was reading from a medical book. No emotional inflection marred his tone, yet Ray could see the fine tremors of his body.

"They were more careful this time. I didn't wind up in the infirmary. Night after night they raped me. I was numb with shock. When I asked a guard for help, he laughed at me and said it was what a dirty cop deserved.

"Finally one of the bigger inmates came to me with a proposition. If I agreed to service him, he would keep me safe from the gang rapes. I also had to agree to obey him unconditionally, or be given to anyone he chose. I was so shellshocked that I agreed. Anything to stop the hell.

"Of course, I'd only traded one hell for another. Argan was brutal, forcng me to start my end of the bargain that very night. His first name was George, you know." Ben's voice was now almost conversational, Ray noted with horror. "I was in his bed every night. I did everything he demanded.

"One time I was too slow. He gave me to the cellblock. I strove hard to please him more than ever after that. One other time I balked at a demand. I was on all fours that very night servicing a long line with my mouth while they pounded me from behind in the ass. This time it wasn't free. They had to pay, so for a pack of cigarettes they were given the privilege of fucking me, front and back. Each set required a new pack. Argan was rich in cigarettes after that night."

Ray felt close to losing his dinner. His palms were sweaty and his heart pounded.

"I had tried so hard to fight them, but it was useless. I would lay awake beside him some nights, listening to him breathe as he slept and kept trying to blank my mind. I could go around like a zombie most of the time, but during the rapes I felt everything crystal-clear. The mind is funny, isn't it?"

Ray reached out a hand and laid it on Ben's arm. "Oh, Benny," he whispered.

Ben raised tear-swimming eyes. "You called me 'Benny'."

Startled, Ray admitted, "I guess I did." He squeezed Ben's arm. "Go to my room and wait there."

Ben meekly did as he was told, Ray helping him up. For a moment they stood there in the hall, gazing at each other, then Ray said gently, "Go."

While Ben went to his room, Ray went back to Frankie. An insolent smirk was on the mobster's face.

"So what's with Shy Boy?"

Ray felt his stomach clench but kept his voice casual. "He's spooked, Frankie."

"By me? I'm harmless."

Like a cobra.

Love didn't blind Ray to Frankie's faults. He shook his head. "He was passed around like a pack of smokes until he became someone's bitch."

"Ah." For a brief moment, sympathy flickered in Frankie's eyes.

        "I need to gentle him."
        A strange light came into Frankie's eyes.  "You mean fuck him."

        Ray hoped that his shrug appeared casual while his heart pounded. "Maybe.  But we got to go slow."

        Oh, Benny.

        Frankie thought it over. "Okay, I'll give you time.  But don't neglect me, Ray." 

        "Never."

        Ray leaned over and kissed Frankie lightly on the lips.  Frankie grabbed his arms and deepened the kiss.  When they parted, an odd vulnerability was reflected in chocolate-brown eyes.

        "Just remember, I need taking care of." Then Frankie winked saucily.

        Ray laughed. "Sure, Frankie." 

        "Now, go to the Canuck."

        Ray smiled and left while the getting was good.

        "Yeah, Ray, you go fuck the Canuck." Frankie murmured. "Because you won't be the only one."

        When Ray reached his bedroom, rarely used because he usually slept with Frankie, he saw Ben standing ramrod-straight by the dresser.  He was still naked.

        Ray held out his hand and Ben hesitated, as if unsure that Ray could mean the gesture.  He finally took it and Ray led him to the bed.  Ben became skittish but Ray said, "It's okay, Benny.  Lie down." Ben obeyed, stiff and miserable.  Ray got into bed beside him and gently took Ben into his arms. "Sleep now, Benny.  It's all right.  I promise."

        The moonlight streamed in through the blinds, dappling the Canadian's body.  Ben allowed himself to relax, and to his surprise, he fell asleep almost instantly.

        Ray didn't sleep for a very long time. 

If only..

End Melted Candles #5: Sinner by Gilda Lily: jeanniemarie@sprintmail.com

Author and story notes above.