Disclaimer: I don't own them etc.

Author's Notes: No-Beta reader, 1st story, took 3 years to write, so be very, very kind. Feedback extremely welcome.

Story Notes: Don't even try to get this if you haven't seen season 3's 'Odds'. I just couldn't let Fraser get away with that ridiculous ledge incident. Sorry.

THE HIGHER YOU CLIMB, THE HARDER YOU FALL

He stepped forward and heard her short, ragged breaths as she edged along the ledge towards the window he was behind. She edged past and he crept out of the window, silently, stealthily. Suddenly there was a sharp crack as the heel of one of her beloved shoes broke. He was out on the ledge before she even had a chance to scream, and caught her hand in his own. A renewed yelp and then she looked up at him, half-fearful, half-angry. "You play a dangerous game" He panted; his back felt as though red hot pokers were being jabbed into him, making his rising anger more potent. "Farrow killed my brother"
"So you had Joey kill Farrow, using me in the process?"

The strain both physically and mentally was causing blood red spots to appear before his eyes, and he struggled to keep control of himself. "You could have let me go..."

The red spots merged as a vision, long since burned into his memory, came into crystal clear focus as he heard Victoria saying those very words. Just after she hurt and used him. His control was rapidly disintegrating, and he couldn't stop it. He opened his mouth and said something so stupid, so calmly he even scared himself. "Who says I won't let you go now?"
The look of terror on her face told him his tone had been deadly serious. "You're bluffing" The desperation in her voice made it a question. All the times he had been taken advantage of, just because he actually bothered to have some standards, some morals welded together like a tight black ball in his chest. It could have been the pain searing through his back, or the stress she'd put him through, even the 'cider' he'd had earlier, but in that instant he wanted revenge, possibly for the first time in his life. "I never bluff"

He unnoticeably altered his stance. Of course he was bluffing, her gift to him, and he knew like he always did that he would catch her again. Hardly blinking, he uncurled his fingers and drew his hand away in one smooth motion. He reached confidently for her other hand, coming up to meet his. There was no hand.
Only a look in her eyes that imparted all her shock, disbelief and anger in one fleeting moment before she fell, silently. The only noise was of cracking bone, a thud, and then the silence returned like a dark blanket. "Oh God..." he whimpered as he sank to his knees on the cold, wet ledge. Somehow he couldn't tear his eyes away from the limp, bloody form, arms and legs splayed in impossible ways, looking straight at him with empty lifeless eyes. "God help me..."

Then there was noise, people near him, leading him carefully inside by the arm. Police and FBI milled around him, preoccupied, unaware and uncaring for the moment of the turmoil which sank him deep into the nearest chair, waiting for something to happen to him.

Ray Kowalski snapped on the last pair of cuffs in the entire building, and reeled off as much as the rights as he could remember to his umpteenth criminal. His head pounded with the noise, and his back ached like shit. He suspected that jumping through a skylight onto a mahogany table might have had something to do with it. The things I do for you, Fraser buddy Who was he kidding? He hadn't been on this much of a high for a hell of a long time. Situation resolved, bad guys caught, stick it in a box marked 'adrenaline rush'. "Pitter patter, let's get atta," he buzzed as he pushed the nameless card player towards another officer. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Fraser, sitting slouching!? in a chair. His face was blocked but the body language said pure depression. He started pushing his way through the throng when one of those men in black types stopped him, mid-stride. "Detective Vecchio. Just to inform you, unfortunately, Denise Scarper is no more. Seems she fell off a ledge while escaping arrest. Seems your Mountie friend found her. I'll be along to ask him some questions later. When I've sorted the rest of this mess out." With a face like thunder he stalked away; leaving Ray with a better understanding of why the form of his partner looked so washed out. Jeez Fraser, I tried to warn ya he thought as he carried on with renewed vigour towards him. Card shark, liar, cheat, super hard bitch, not exactly your type, calamari "Fraser...Fraser...Fraseuuur!"

Fraser looked up sharply and Ray's piercing blue eyes met his grey ones. Ray nearly gasped out loud, the pain in those eyes... He snapped himself back to reality. C'mon Ray, get him outta here
"Hungry?" Well done Kowalski, very original "No" Flat, soulless, matter-of-fact.
"Good, let's go"
He took his partner, his friend round the shoulder and led him out the hotel, by the back way of course, Ray doubted he needed any reminders of the night's events.

They ended up in a diner, Fraser had pointed it out, said it reminded him of someone. They sat in silence, Fraser staring blankly into his cup of strong black coffee. Ray could hardly credit it, "I'm intoxicated" had been his only explanation. Although Ray's stomach was growling like a pissed tiger he felt he couldn't sit and eat with the picture of misery that sat before him. Ray racked his brain for another occasion where Fraser had needed him like this... This is shit, you're out of your league Kowalski "Look Fraser...buddy...you can talk to me...y'know...if you felt like it" "I don't Ray"
oh well. At last ya tried
"I'd appreciate it if you left now Ray" Fraser stared, almost pleading with him to go. Ray felt like laughing. Total role reversal. Totally warped. Totally my life. He just couldn't let it go, pushing was his speciality, after all. "Fraser..."
"Go away Ray." The tone was strained, almost breaking up. "That's it Fraser. I'm not goin. Ya look like ya gonna do somethin' stupid." Fraser shot him a look that could have taken down a moose at twenty paces. "Fuck off Ray."
He left.
And if you'd have wandered past that diner, the picture before you would had been an attractive man, mid 30's, half dressed in a (very nice) tux...sobbing quietly into a cup of coffee. You would have imagined his soul was being leeched out of him by the moulded plastic chair he sat in. And you would have been right.

Ray sat in the car, guilt and anger gnawing at his insides. Stupid, so fucking stupid Kowalski
He flipped on the radio, hoping it would calm him down. Instead, it was a heavy metal station, some young punk screaming self deprecating remarks in a torrent of guitars and drums. *Situation: something seriously crappy happens to your best friend...perhaps your only friend. Result: you take him for a coffee to calm down and try to talk. He actually tells you to fuck off (still can't believe he said that) and what do you do, hey? Help him, sort his head out, be a buddy? No. You fucking leave!! * Ray found himself smacking the steering wheel like he'd done when Stella went with Orsini. That was the first time I shocked him with my temper. Then I popped him in the head. What next? Kill him? He slammed the 'off' switch on the radio and pounced out of the car, nearly taking the door window with him. He paced back and forward, deciding what to do. Breaking his path decisively, he rounded the corner. The diner's neon sign stared down at him, and below it, ghostly pale in the harsh light, stood Fraser, expectantly. There seemed to have been a change in his face, as if he had made a decision too. They stood about 3 feet apart, awkwardly, a storm brewing between them. It was Fraser who broke the silence, and he brought the storm with him. "Arrest me Ray"
The man is a freak, but this is a personal best "Arrest you! On what charge! Look Benton buddy, she lived one hellava life, but she just fell off a ledge, not your fault. Let me drive you home?" "No Ray' His voice was breaking again and Ray saw his eyes well up as he turned and drew a thumb across his eyebrow. 'Please...just arrest me Ray. I can't tell you what for..." "Well, then I am NOT going to arrest you" "Please.."
"No way! Not unless you tell me why I would want to arrest ya, super law abiding Mountie guy?!" "Can't you just trust me, trust me that I have done something, something dread..." His voice tailed off, hoarse, as the tears that had begun to fall threatened to drown him in his own guilt. "No. You need to trust me Ben...trust me with whatever you've done. I'm your partner, and your friend, whatever it is, we can straighten it out." His voice was calm, rational as he stared straight into Fraser's eyes, wide with fear and sorrow. Fraser looked away, as if he were considering a course of action, about to say something. Ray strained to hear him, and just made out... "I'm so sorry Ray"

Then all he could see was his fist, coming towards him. The punch was worse than before they went on that ship, when he thought Fraser would never hit him, and then he thought he'd never get up again. White stars exploded before his eyes as his head smacked against the sidewalk. As he flipped himself onto his stomach with a load groan, he just caught a glimpse of Fraser, turning the corner at full pelt. 'Shit...' Ray blurted out as he stumbled to his feet, blood pouring from his nose. Before he knew it he was in the car. He floored the gas, roaring away along the road Fraser was heading down. He grabbed a tissue from the glove box, and swearing under his breath, accelerated a little more, scanning the streets for his a.w.o.l. Mountie.

He had no idea how long or how far he had run. He had hit Ray. When he had looked at him, so calm, so together, and what he had done was on the tip of his tongue, the horror that would appear on the face of his best friend invaded his thoughts like some horrible dj vu, and he just had to get away from him, from everything. Maybe he wasn't really running from Ray, maybe he was running from her...her face he saw constantly, the touch of her nimble fingers, her lips...and his, telling her he trusted her... He knew he couldn't escape forever, but the more his muscles and back screamed for him to stop, the more his head pounded, the more it could override the pain and guilt that was taking over his soul. He turned a corner into a more crowded street and pushed his way through hookers, dealers and all the best that Chicago had to offer. How he hated this place, so much lawlessness, so few morals, so much hatred, and now he was part of it too, instead of fighting it.. who was he kidding? He didn't hate Chicago, he hated himself. Turning back, he saw the black GTO turn into the road with a screech of tyres, and his mind clouded over again. He had to get Ray to arrest him... He spied a woman, mid 40's, obviously lost in the wrong part of town. Hanging off her shoulder was a brown shoulder bag. As he ran towards her he could hear the car gaining on him, and he mentally prepared himself to do something he would have thought impossible, even yesterday. I've thrown away my right to have more morals than anyone else...packet of milk duds or a bag, it's all the same He wrenched the bag off the woman's shoulder, and she cried out, more with surprise than pain. He ran into the road and stood, the bag held aloft like some macabre trophy, as Ray sped towards him. The car screeched to a halt, missing him by inches. The smell of burnt rubber stifling the air. Ray was out in an instant, bloody-faced and furious. "What the fuck do you think you're doing Fraser ?!" He screamed, grabbing the bag off him and almost throwing it at it's bemused owner, who waited patiently on the sidewalk. "What is this about? What the hell did you do to this stupid bitch, hey? Kill her?"

Fraser slowly bowed his head and the group of misfits, deviants and criminals that stood silently along the sidewalk, watched as their marvel comic hero from the great white north became Ben Fraser, a man just like them. "Yes Ray...I killed her."

Benton Fraser sat on a cot, his head resting between his legs, hand massaging his temples which threatened to explode at any moment, splattering his brain contents on the walls of holding cell 3. He was so tired, so scared, and so alone. For the first time since he had taken her life, all around him was quiet. He was being forced to think. He raised his head slightly, red rimmed eyes staring along the dirty cell floor. His eyes came to rest on a pair of pretty, almost dainty woman's shoes. He couldn't remember anyone else being in here as Ray had pushed him in, slamming the door behind him as he went to talk to Welsh. Fraser drew those same pain-etched eyes up the long, slender legs and a sudden thought flitted across his muddled mind...' legs that go...right to the top' , and he looked again at the shoes. The heel of one was missing and blood dripped steadily onto the soft leather. The sudden realisation of who stood before him made him give a strangled cry. His head snapped up and he looked straight at Denise Scarper. Her expression was all at once one of terror, pitiful sadness and smug satisfaction. She looked broken, inside and out, arms and legs twisted into unnatural angles, blood forming a film over one side of her face as it poured out from a wound in the back of her head. Ben could do nothing but stare, rigid, until he was brought to his senses by the incessant banging that the cot was making as it hit the wall from his violent shaking. He rubbed his eyes but she was still there, her hatred like a bad smell in the cell. "Please...go away...dear God, haven't I done enough to you already?" he croaked out, his breath coming in sharp gasps. She slowly shook her head and began to advance on the terrified Mountie. "I'm sorry...I'm so..." he was cut off by her cold, clammy hand cupping his cheek as she bent down to kiss him. "Noo..." a muffled moan, but he couldn't stop himself, just one kiss, to show how sorry he was.But the kiss was not one of forgiveness, it was brutal, and the feeling of her cold blue lips on his own and her slimy, lifeless tongue invading his mouth made him gag, and he pulled away, stumbled over to the sink and threw up.The dry heaves became mixed with huge sobs, filled with guilt and repulsion, as blackness overtook him and he slid onto the floor, his head resting on those dainty shoes that were planning to haunt him for quite a while.

Welsh sighed and sank back into his chair. Another bad day getting worse. Ray Kowalski stood before him, dried blood covering his face, exhausted, shaken, as if someone had pulled the plug on his usual 300v energy supply. Although it didn't show in his face, or his voice, he was damn worried. Over the few months he had formed a real connection with the wiry blond. The Mountie had nearly destroyed Vecchio, and he didn't want to see that again. "Are you bored detective? Were tonight's events and your mounting caseload not enough for you?" "Sir?"
"That you have to get into a fight with your partner, and then arrest him for murder?" "It was manslaughter sir, but he didn't do..." "I don't care detective. You started this thing rolling, so you will finish it. I want him in interview 1, and I want it done properly, none of the crap we had last time." "Last time Sir?"
Welsh looked like he might tell him, then thought better of it. "Never mind. Just get out there...and Vecchio" "Yes sir?" there was hope in the bloodshot eyes as he turned. "Get yourself cleaned up"
"Yeah."
Just as Ray touched the door handle there was a load knock from the other side, causing him to jump back from the door, stumbling, his nerves shot to pieces by the day's events. Into the office stormed... "Agent White"
"Agent Exley"
"Yes agents, I think we have established who you are. What do you want?" "We heard about your Mountie lieutenant, or should I say our Mountie." "What?" Ray suddenly perked up at the agents words. "Denise Scarper was ours, so I'm afraid her suspected murderer is too." "No fucking way!" Ray screamed, heading rather quickly in the direction of the agents. "Vecchio...Vecchio!..."Welsh's voice stopped him dead. "But lieutenant...it's Fraser!"
"Don't you think I know that Detective. The agents have the right." Resignation was thick in his voice. He turned to White and Exley, who were giving Ray identical sly grins. "I want detective Vecchio present."
"No can do. He stays behind the mirror, or we drag your Mountie boy all the way back to D.C. and conduct our investigation there." Welsh and Ray stared at each other over the desk, that connection between them draining away with each second he hesitated, Ray's eyes pleading for some help. Welsh wished he could do something. But he couldn't. "I want a full report at every single stage. Is that understood?" The agents nodded at each other like they had nervous ticks. "Fine." "Go get Fraser detective."
Ray stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

In the men's room, Ray ran the water and washed the blood and tears from his face. Can't let 'em see me like this, can't let Fraser see...see what, hey Kowalski? That you give a shit? That ya don't know what to believe about him, about anything anymore? "Fuck him, fuck 'em all" he said decisively, heading for lock-up. What met him as he turned the corner made him rush out, grab the duty officer and drag him, by the scruff of the neck to the cell. As the man fiddled nervously to find the right key, Ray loomed over him, his anger making the buzz return to him. "What the hell do ya do all day, heh? Someone passes out in a cell, and you don't even notice?!" "Sorry, he was on his side, I'm new here and I thought he was a D&D." the officer tried to explain. Ray clenched his fist and pressed up close to him, whispering furiously into the man's ear. "If that wasn't my partner, and I could spare the time, I'd jump Bogart all over your sorry ass buddy..." "Should I get a doctor?" He was almost shaking. " I'll call ya, understand?"
"O.K."
Ray was inside in an instant, pulling a groaning Fraser off the floor, propping him against the cot. "C'mon Fraser...wake up...Fraser!" His anger mixed with his concern and he slapped him so hard his head whipped around. Christ, he stinks of puke
The groans turned to mumbles as Ray continued to slap him, more gently this time. "No...please...I'm sorry...Noooo!" He screamed as his eyes flew open, arms and legs flailing, terrified and trying to get his bearings. "Fraser, it's me...it's Ray."
Fraser stumbled to his feet and sat heavily on the cot, wiped the dried vomit off his face and then looked up into his partner's gaze, horrified guilt etched on his face. "I'm so sorry Ray" he panted.
"Fer what?" Ray probed
"For everything. Truly I am..."
here goes Kowalski
"I got to ask ya this Fraser. Mano a Mano, what the hell happened? I deserve to know." Fraser took a deep breath, and, tears rolling down his face, and told him everything, even some of what he'd been feeling, once he started the floodgate was open, and nothing could have stopped it. When he had finished, he felt as if there was nothing left to him except a hollow shell. Ray stood and backed away, disbelieving. "Christ Fraser...ya...ya did it...manslaughter?" He rolled the word around in his brain. It still didn't fit with the man who sat before him, drained and defeated. "Shit...let me think."
"There's nothing to think about Ray, I deserve to go to prison for what I've done. My arrogance...she died because of it" He shook his head and wiped his eyes. "Don't...it was an accident. Look Fraser, those feds are gonna come in here and grill the snot out of you any minute. You're a good guy, a great cop. If not me, don't ya think that all those people who are livin' today, or livin' better because of you, don't you think they wouldn't want you to go to jail for a stupid mistake?" He knelt before him, hands on his knees. "Ray...I don't deserve your help, your friendship" "Tough, you're getting it. Ya gotta bluff this out buddy. She just fell...ya blamed yourself, shock and all that shit." "I can't..." he whispered, defeated, but desperate all the same. "Just bluff"
"lie"
"equivocate"
"lie"
"delay"
"lie"
"lie...please Ben...for me? It was your selfish stubbornness that put ya in here, for Christ's sake don't let it ruin both of us" He stared, pleading with him. "I don't understand, Ray"
Ray bowed his head, and admitted, embarrassed, "I don't know what I'd do without ya, Ben." "Really?" The surprise made ray want to laugh, and cry all at once. "Yeah Fraser, you're not the only one loses everyone they care about...ya don't have to do that." The look in Fraser's eyes told him he'd hit a chord ,and he tried to suppress a smile. "I'll try and lie Ray...I've lost all my morals anyway..." He whispered. Ray smiled. "Naa...put them to one side, ready to use 'em again later. C'mon." He took his friend round the shoulder and led him out of the cell.

He had no idea how long this had been going on, the questions seemed to merge into one now. The first time he had lied, said "I didn't kill her", the words were like poison on his lips, and it was only the thought of Ray's words, pleading with him not to leave him that had let him do it. Now the lies were like water, no taste and no end. The agents didn't seem to be buying it though, and it a warped way this pleased him. "So Constable, you mean to tell us that your guilt over this tragic accident caused you to tell your partner that you killed her!?" "Yes."
"Do you suffer from any mental illnesses Constable?" "Perhaps"
"We don't believe that, do we Agent White?" "No we don't Agent Exley."
"We believe instead that you were having a sexual relationship with Denise Scarper, that she betrayed you and your over-inflated morals and, somehow, ended up dead due to you. "No" -Easy as that.
"You weren't having a relationship?"
"We were both lonely. We kissed. That hardly qualifies as a relationship." "We believe that it does for you Constable. Was that not the inital situation of your relationship with one Victoria Metcalf?" Ray was listening intently in the cramped, smelly booth next door. So far so good Fraser. But what the hell is this Victoria Metcalf shit? He had a vague memory of seeing that case, didn't really get it though, apart from the jist that this Victoria had fucked Fraser over somethin' good. "How will that case impinge on these charges?" He could hardly believe the lack of emotion her name now raised in him. No, another women had taken over that hallowed place, squeezing his insides till he thought he might burst. "Doesn't look good. That rap was so close a sharp razor couldn't have done better. I'm thinking life for our mountie, don't you agree Agent White?" "Oh yes Agent Exley."
Ray wasn't listening anymore, he was pressed up against the mirrorglass staring at his partner's expression of pure horror as he stared at the empty chair opposite him. What the hell are you doing Fraser?
Then it clicked. He would never thought he would have been capable of working it to this level... Go on Fraser, go for the loony tunes spin, damn! He ran out of the booth trying frantically to think of the most crooked shrink he knew.

"What's going on Son?" Fraser Snr said carefully as Ladyshoes dug her long nails deeper into his neck. "Dad..."
White and Exley looked at each other and the empty chair several times, extremely confused expressions on their faces. "I've asked her what this is about Ben, but she doesn't seem to be in any condition to answer...ugggg" -another dig. " Never realised you could feel pain when you were dead son, thought that was the point..." "She's after me Dad...I killed her."
Both Agents nearly leapt the over table in their excitement. "What was that Constable"
" Is the tape on White?"
"Yes Exley."
But Fraser had long since forgotten about them, and about Ray. All he could see was Ladyshoes passing a broken hand directly into his father's chest, and then he was up, grabbing and striking out at her wildly, his hands never making contact. All he could hear was Bob's wet gurgling cries as blood trickled down his chin. Then she spoke. Her voice was like someone running their nails down a blackboard. "I can do this forever Ben, torture him and you together for eternity..." She hissed.

"Please! Not him, he has nothing to do with this!" He screamed. Suddenly he could feel strong arms restraining him and knew that Ray was one of them. "Ray!" He had ruined everything, let him down once again and admitted his crime. "Fraser buddy, I'm here, c'mon, just calm down o.k? This is taking it too far buddy, as much as I hate these dickheads from the agency, there was no need to beat one of 'em senseless After a few moments Benny stopped thrashing and sunk to the floor, pinned down by various members of the Chicago P.D. As others attended to Agent White and Exley was shouting obscenities at anyone who would listen, in walked Dr Kruger M.D. and friend. "Hey Doc, can you do anything about this?" Ray already knew the response, it was the one had pulled in favours and begged his arse off to get . "My colleague and I have already drawn out the commmital forms. Do we need sedation?" "Nah, he's well outta it already Doc." Ray looked down at the man groaning on the floor beneath him. This setup was getting way too convincing for comfort. Suddenly Fraser's eyes shot open and centered straight on Ray. As soon as Ray saw those eyes, he knew he'd made one hell of a bad judgement. "Help me Ray, Please...Make her go away..." The tears were rolling down his face. Jesus, you really are wacko Fraser, and i've just signed you over to Dr Frankenstein. What a mess, what a fuckin' mess...

It had been at least 48 hours since he had closed his eyes last, changed his clothes, had a wash. Friendship could only go so far.

Anyway, he's safe now. Sorta. He recalled the extremely lengthy talk he'd had with Dr Kruger, trying to convince him his partner was actually 'loony tunes'. He had eventually agreed to involve a doctor who actually knew what he was doing, although Kruger had assured him that in certain circles this would "do nothing for my reputation".

Jeez, didn't know it was that important to keep an infamous reputation. There go Fraser's long words again Ray...

Fraser wasn't using many long words at that moment, being, as he was, sedated to the eyeballs with something that got rid of Ladyshoes, but got rid of most everything else too.

Meanwhile, Ray had picked up Dief from the Consulate. He was pretty sure Fraser's boss wasn't gonna like the 'presents' Dief had left her, or the note on her desk telling her about her best Mountie's indefinite leave of absence. Tough. Dief had been left with Ma Vecchio, who had started feeding him with doughnuts almost immediately.

Alright for some, heh? thought Ray as he surveyed his bare fridge. oh well, at least there's hot water and a bed on offer...

Ray found his bottle of Southern Comfort in the bathroom cabinet as usual, and started on it in earnest, carrying on even while he let the hot water of the shower wash away the last two days. Both remedies began to sink in, but not enough as he sat on the couch and stared at a blank wall.

Fraser, Fraser, Fraser, what the hell is going on with ya? Can't believe it's just the guilt. You've always been full of that, and you ain't beat anyone up because of it, not like that...

He'd heard rumours, sly jokes passed around the squadroom about Fraser 'seeing' his dead Dad, talking to himself, but he'd never really believed it until now. But this...this was different, like something had literally got inside his head and messed it around...

but what? Demons? Naa...load of drunk crap. Gotta find out though He thought as his head started to loll and his eyes finally closed....

Thank God, she's not here Fraser opened heavy eyelids gingerly. Something else was bothering him though. Something...physical. He tried turning over and it was plainly obvious what the problem was. Someone had stuck red hot pokers into his back. Perfectly reasonable punishment for what he'd done...but he really wished they'd stop doing it.

"Argggh...oh God...stop...please..." A nurse ran in immediately.

"What is it Mr Fraser? No-one is doing anything to you...are you in pain?"

"my....baack...arrgh"

"Try not to move, i'll get the doctor" She had no idea what was going on, but she wasn't going to take any chances with a violent hallucinating patient. She strapped his arms to the bed before leaving, just in case.

*why has she strapped me down? Maybe I am imagining this, I mean i'm hardly in a state to reasonably judge what is going on, am I? This pain is the same as when I was shot, same place, same...uurghh, same intensity...but what if i'm not?*

Suddenly he was overcome with an overwhelming fear, and he knew something was seriously wrong with him. And in the midst of this black cloud that was descending down on him, all he could see was Ray.

This Doctors office looked the same as all the others, white everywhere, like a pale introduction to the afterlife, and he hated it just as much as the others. But the amount he was drinking lately, most everything looked the same, covered by a warm blanket of alcohol. Ever since they had said it might be something physical that was causing his partner such pain, and even his mental symptoms, he had found that his warm blanket was all that was keeping him going.

Lose-lose situation here. If it's physical, it ain't gonna be pretty, but if not, i've still got the damn feds breathing down my neck. Either way, Benny still sits in the corner and can't even fucking speak from the pain and the things he sees, and can't even see me sometimes. Kills me when he does that and the nurses say he calls out my name all fucking night...

The door opened and a woman doctor walked in .

She's good. Blank face. Can't tell what she's goin' to tell me

"Mr Vecchio. You are here to do with Mr Fraser's test results I believe. I know you're not next of kin Mr Vecchio, but i'd like you to realise that due to Mr Fraser's mental state I am telling you this even before him. I think you may like to break this to him yourself..."

Shit.

" I don't know if you were aware that Mr Fraser had been shot in the back a few years ago, and that the bullet is still there?"

"Yeah...well kinda"

" Sometimes a foreign object can disrupt the body's working, and a growth can form around it..."

"Wait Doc, your saying Fraser's got...cancer? Oh Jesus, I don't get it"

"Do you want me to just sum it up Mr Vecchio?"

"yeah, yeah, my brain's starting to overload already, sorry..."

"It's o.k. Fraser has cancer of the spine, which is causing his back pain, and unfortunately this has spread to the front part of his brain, which is causing his mental symptoms. This seems to have been going on for quite a while, he may have had some mild hallucinations, episodes of back pain..."

Oh Christ Benny...your Dad...your back. I never thought about it being serious...

"Mr Vecchio. Is there anything you want to ask me?

"What the hell can you do for him?"

"We can give drugs to reduce the swelling and hopefully the symptoms, but i'm very sorry to say that due to the site and spread of the growths drugs, radiation or surgery are not options."

Ray couldn't even believe he was capable of asking the question that came next.

"How...how long?" his voice was cracking, and all his brain was focused on was mapping the most direct route to the nearest bar...

"That's a very difficult question to answer, it depends on so many factors, but...I would not expect much more than six months. I'm very sorry Mr Vecchio, and I wish I could bring better news."

Ray had lost it at '6 months' and he was already heading for the door. Next thing he knew he was home with plenty of reasons to forget lined up on his table, and pretty soon after that he was sprawled on the floor, completely unconscious but still whispering like a mantra...

"Fraser...Fraser...I'm sorry...."

He knew, deep inside, that he wasn't the same person he had been. But he couldn't really remember who that person was. Which was a shame, because he had a vague feeling that that person had been good, and honest, and had had a good life, if a bit lonely. He also knew that he was in a hospital, and that normal people didn't live in hospitals. Ray didn't. He lived in an apartment. He'd been there. But he had to leave when he started to break things, he remembered that. He didn't mean to shout and break things, but he just got so angry, about what he had no idea, but he never hit people. Never. Something of that other person always stopped him.

But...he was getting angry less often now, he was tired all the time instead, which was annoying because when he slept that woman would come and whisper awful things to him again. He tried to tell her that it was the other person who seemed to have upset her so much, but she never listened. Even she bothered him less. And at least he didn't have that back pain as severely now, which was good.

He spent most of the time thinking about Ray. Ray came to see him everyday, told him about all the police cases he was working on and silly things about the wolf the other person owned and Ray's turtle. He liked Ray talking about those things, though he didn't know why.

Ray had talked differently today, said he had something serious to say. He had been scared about that at first, because the last time he had said that Ray had told him about the cancer, and then cried for a long time.

This time was different though. Ray was smiling. Said we were going away, up north where the other person liked to go. I asked if we'd be together and he said 'all the time'. I was very happy about that and Ray smiled even more. Then he said something strange, he said 'you'll get some peace up there Fraser'. It was strange because I always feel peaceful when he's around.

I hope he knows that...

End The Higher You Climb, The Harder You Fall by Hannah B-T: hannahbt@hotmail.com

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