LETTING GO
                      By
                         Draco
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Ray narrows his eyes at me and runs a hand through his spiky
blond hair. 
He is practically bouncing on his toes with contained anger. I
have a feeling it is not going to be contained much longer.

 No, Fraser. N-O. No. No way, nowhere, no how. No.'                

My tone is reasonable. Calm. The opposite of his.  But, Ray, if
you would just t- 

It doesn't matter. He cuts me off in mid-word, folding his arms
across his chest and glaring.
 Fraser, don'tcha ever take  no' for an answer? Isn't that word in your
vocabulary? If ya want me to tell ya what it means, I can do that.' 

I shake my head.  No, Ray, that really won't be necessary. I
assure you that- 

 Okay. Good. Then we're clear.' 

He turns away, shoulder blades jutting sharply from his back. The shaved
back of his neck looks vulnerable under the stiff spikes
of his hair. I want to touch him, comfort him, but I'm afraid
he'll take it the wrong way.

 Ray, please.' I say instead.

His muscles tense up, and he clenches his fists at his sides.
When he whirls to face me, the look on his face pushes me back a
step. He takes one toward me, bringing us closer. I firm my jaw
and face him, staring into the angry blue eyes.

 You want me to talk about it, huh? You want me to tell you all
about it, right?' He is panting for breath between the words,
rage hot on his face and sparking in his eyes. He takes another
step forward.  Say you want me to talk about it, Fraser.' I feel
his breath on my cheek. I close my eyes, then open them again and meet
his gaze.

 I want you to talk about it, Ray.'

The stiffness goes out of him at my words, and he lets out a long breath.
He looks at me and the anger is gone, replaced by pain
that hollows his cheeks and makes the dark circles under his eyes darker.
He runs the hand through his hair again, then looks at it as if he doesn't
know what to do with it. When he speaks, his
voice is so soft I can hardly hear it.

 There were two of  em. Two. Kids, really. Barely 15. I think they were
brothers, but we never did get any I.D. on them. There
wasn't enough left to I.D.' He swallows hard and presses his hand against
his eyes as if trying to shut out an image. 
I take his wrist gently, and he jumps. He starts to pull away,
and I tighten my grip just a little. I can feel his pulse
fluttering under the delicate skin. It feels trapped. Gently, I
lead him over to the couch and push him down. He sits stiffly,
covering his eyes so I can't see the tears. He doesn't say
anything else, just sobs softly.

I sit next to him, still holding his wrist in my hand. The skin
feels warm, the bones fragile.  Fraser...' His voice is soft,
thick with misery.  I don't wanna do this.'

 I know, Ray.'

 I don't wanna talk about it. Oh God, they were kids! Kids drive
too fast. They steal candy or beer. They pick someone's pocket.
They don't rob a bank! They don't blow themselves up with C4 so
there's nothing left but hamburger!'

He is crying hard now, holding himself with his free arm as if he thinks
he'll fall apart if he lets go. I don't know what to say,
but I try anyway.  Ray. It wasn't your fault. You did what you
could.'

He shakes his head.  It was my fault! I shouldn'ta pushed them so hard.
I shoulda just let it be. What's money against kids' 
lives?'

 You are a cop, Ray. You did what you had to do.' They are empty
words, empty against Ray's grief, his guilt. They aren't good
enough.

 Ray. Ray, Ray...' I let go of his wrist and, throwing caution to the
wind, pull him into my arms. He stiffens, starts to pull
away.  Shh. Ray, shh. Hold still.' Gently, I wrap an arm around
his shoulder and cradle him against my chest. He lets out a soft
breath and stays.

I can feel the tears through the thin material of my flannel
shirt. I can feel his breath against my shoulder and the
trembling of his body as he tries to stop crying. I lift my hand
and stroke his hair, feather-soft.  Ray...'

After a long time, he stops shaking. The tears on my shirt dry.
He doesn't pull away, though.  Don't let go, Fraser.' The words are so
soft I barely catch them

 I'm not going to let go, Ray.' I answer.

 Promise?' he asks softly.

 I promise.' I respond.
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