By Amethyst

         Ray Vecchio shrugged quickly into his suit jacket and finished his coffee as the front door rang. Francesca Vecchio yelled that she would answer it, and a moment later the Detective heard her purring a greeting to Constable Benton Fraser. He rolled his eyes as Francesca practically dragged the poor Canadian into the kitchen, both her arms wrapped around him possessively. Diefenbaker trotted in beside them and immediately moved to greet Ray.
         "Hey, Furball." The Italian greeted the wolf affectionately, bending slightly to scratch him behind the ears before scowling at his sister. "Frannie, heel." She glared at him but released the flustered Mounties's arm to go prepare a cup of tea. "I told ya I'd pick ya up, Benny, why ya here so early?"
         "Diefenbaker felt the urge for a good walk and we just ended up here, Ray." Fraser shrugged with a small smile as Mrs. Vecchio entered the kitchen, just as Ray was feeding the animal the remainder of the huge breakfast that his mother had fixed him; he could never eat heavily before work, but she insisted.
         "Raimundo," she scolded and Fraser hid a smile, since he had been about to do the same thing; he didn't approve of Diefenbaker's begging.
         "Hey, Ma." Ray countered easily and carried his plate to the sink. "Fraser never feeds him. I was just takin' pity on the poor guy."
         "Ray, that isn't true!" Fraser denied indignantly. "I feed Diefenbaker quite well enough, but you spoil him with all the extras you give him throughout the day."
         "Enough of such nonsense." Mrs. Vecchio charged and moved to the stove. "Sit Bentino, have breakfast."
         "Oh thank you kindly, Ma." Fraser declined graciously. "I ate earlier this morning." That wasn't quite a lie, he had swallowed a piece of toast with his cup of tea.
         She paused in the process of filling a plate, then set it back on the counter and snatched up one of her homemade cinnamon rolls from the table. She walked over and stood before him defiantly, having to crane her head to meet his gaze.
         "Open." She demanded and Fraser complied. She placed the treat in his mouth and patted his stomach. "You are too thin. You must eat more."
         "Thank you." He replied, around the roll, biting off a delicious piece and pulling the remainder form his mouth.
         "Gotta go, Ma." Ray insisted, draining his cup and setting that in the sink, before starting to head out with his partner, who offered a polite goodbye and called Diefenbaker away from the table. Her sharp call brought them both back, so they could each kiss one of her cheeks affectionately and she smiled approvingly.
         "Raimundo!" Ray paused again as his mother hurried after him. "Will you have time to take me to the market today?"
         "Have Frannie take ya, Ma." He suggested, pulling out his wallet and handing her some bills. "I don't know when I'll get time. I got a full case load." He opened the door and noticed that Fraser had shoveled the walkway. "Benny, ya gotta quit doin' dat. Tony was supposed ta do dat yesterday."
         "The shovel was there, Ray, and it needed to be done." Fraser countered. "I don't mind doing it and I wouldn't want someone to slip and hurt themselves." Ma Vecchio smiled and pulled them both down for a quick hug.
         "Such fine, strong young men I have to take care of me and my children." She smiled proudly, then to Ray.  "Do not work so hard, caro," she warned, patting his cheek, then doing the same to Fraser, who was putting on his hat. "You either, my darling."
         "Have a good day, Ma," Fraser offered as Ray waved and they headed toward the Riv. She waved at them and went inside.
 
 

         Ray smirked at his partner Constable Benton Fraser, who had started on a story about seals and an otter pelt, his ear only half tuned to what the Canadian was saying. His cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket, answering it with his usual smooth greeting.
         "Vecchio, talk to me babe." Fraser paused in the telling of his tale as he watched the Italian grow pale and his hands started to shake. "I'll be right dere." He slammed off the phone and grabbed his jacket.
         "What is it, Ray," Fraser inquired, quickly following his friend out of the precinct.
         "Ma and Frannie were in an accident," Ray muttered as he climbed behind the wheel of the Rivera and Ray peeled out of the lot.
         "Are they hurt badly?"
         "I don't know." Ray replied grimly, his knuckles showing white as he gripped the steering wheel fiercely. "Tony called and told me they just got the call themselves from a friend of theirs that works at the hospital and recognized Frannie." He bit his lip and Fraser could tell his friend was struggling to remain focused and calm enough to drive. "God! If something happens ta dem, Benny, I...." he shook his head.
         "I am sure they will both be fine, Ray," Fraser opted soothingly. "We'll know more once we get to the hospital." Ray nodded and pressed the accelerator. "In one piece would be preferable, Ray." Vecchio shot him a glance then nodded and slowed down to a more respectable speed. He wouldn't be much help to his family if he ended up in an accident himself, and they'd both kill him if Fraser was hurt due to his panic. He smirked slightly and concentrated on the road ahead.

 
         "I'm Ray Vecchio," the detective introduced quickly at the nurse's station. "My Mother and sister were just brought in?" The nurse glanced at her information chart, then her eyes rose in a sympathetic gaze.
         "If you will just wait over there in waiting room three, Sir, I will send the doctor out."
         "What about my family," Ray demanded. "Where are dey? Can't ya tell me..."
         "I'm afraid I can't, Sir," she returned. "They were brought into the ICU unit. The doctor will know more."
          Ray looked like he wanted to protest more, but Fraser's hand on his shoulder prevented it. He allowed the Mountie to guide him to the privacy room the nurse had indicated and moved inside. A few minutes later a tall, dark haired man in his thirties, still in his surgery greens, entered.
         "Mr. Vecchio," he inquired and Ray moved toward him instantly.
         "Yah," he confirmed. "I'm Ray Vecchio. How's my mother and my sister? Are dey gonna be okay? Did they say what happened?" The doctor lowered his eyes for a brief moment, his eyes going over Ray's head to the Mountie behind him, then back to Ray.
         "Witnesses say that a driver ran a red light and slammed into the passenger side of your sister's car as they were traveling through the intersection. Another car hit them coming from the opposite lane as they spun into on-coming traffic." The doctor informed. "I don't know all the details, but the police have made out a report that you can see later. Right now we have to deal with the extent of your sister's injuries, which I'm afraid are quite serious."
         "So my Ma's okay den," Ray asked slightly relieved. "How bad is Frannie?"
         "Mr. Vecchio," the doctor began gently. "Your sister is in critical condition. I am afraid Mrs. Vecchio died at the scene." Ray stared at him.
        He couldn't have heard him correctly; it must be a mistake. Did he just say that Frannie was seriously hurt but Ma....Ma was dead? He shook his head and stumbled backwards as an unsteady feeling swept over him, feeling the comforting arm of Benton Fraser who was beside him instantly.
         "Oh God," he whispered, then released an anguished cry as he slumped against the wall, Fraser barely keeping him from falling to the floor. "Jesus Christ! OoohhhhhhGoooodddd!"
         Fraser stayed beside him, one arm around his shoulders, the other keeping the Detective upright with an arm anchored at his waist, as Ray's body was racked with painful sobs. The Italian was grateful for his partner's support, and he leaned into his Fraser's embrace as the tears continued to fall. Fraser struggled to keep his own emotions in place. No point in both of them falling apart. He had to be strong for Ray.
         "Ray," Fraser murmured gently as he rocked him in his arms. The doctor gave them some privacy to voice their grief. Fraser's voice was thick with unshed tears. "You have to think about Francesca now. It's very important that we concentrate on getting her well again."
         "Oh God, Benny," Ray cried mournfully. "Oh God, not Ma. Not my Mother."
         "I know, Ray," the Mountie soothed. He heard the sounds of footfalls from outside, rushing toward their room. Knowing Ray would not wish to be caught in this state, despite his despair, he pulled away from his partner slightly and handed the grief-stricken Italian his handkerchief. "You have to concentrate on your family now, Ray."
         The detective nodded, beholden to his friend for being the voice of reason, and quickly wiped his face and cleared his throat.
         "Ray," Maria called from the doorway as she and Tony rushed into the waiting room.
          Fraser watched his friend straighten automatically, pocket the handkerchief that he would no doubt return later, and turn to the window for a moment longer to compose himself before facing his anxious sister and brother-in-law. He took a step toward her and she took a step backwards, clutching her purse to her chest as if trying to ward off some insurmountable evil.
         "Maria...." Ray encouraged quietly as Maria started shaking her head back and forth, her eyes wide with terror as she witnessed the sadness she saw reflected back from her brother's emerald eyes.
         "No," she whispered fearfully, shaking Tony off even as he tried to comfort her. "No!"
         "Come here, baby," Ray offered, with just the barest tremble in his voice and his sister numbly stepped into his embrace.
         "Tell me," she demanded. "Who...?"
         "Ma's gone, sweetheart," Ray whispered and Fraser closed his eyes as the Italian woman's cry echoed around them.
         Maria beat on her brother's chest viciously and Ray closed his eyes, withstanding her tantrum as she called him a liar, a beast, and brought a string of Italian curses down upon his head. Finally she slumped against him, her anger spent and only her grief left to run its course as she cried on his shoulder. Tony stepped forward, and Ray gently transferred his sister into her husband's waiting arms, then brushed at his eyes and stepped toward the doctor, who had discretely entered.
         "I want ta see my sister," he demanded, resuming his role as head of the Vecchio family. "Then my Mother." The doctor nodded and opened the door. "Fraser, will you...?"
         "Coming, Ray," Fraser returned quietly and followed his partner out. The doctor briefed them on Francesca's condition as they walked down the long white corridor toward the ICU unit.
         "She has suffered trauma to her skull, a fracture on the left side and some severe lacerations on the right portion of her face. Her left arm is broken, her pelvic bone is fractured where the second vehicle hit her side of the car. She has internal injuries as well, but we cannot perform another surgery until we are sure we can stop the bleeding."
         "What are her chances," Ray asked as they stopped outside the room.
         "Quite honestly, Detective, it is all up to the man upstairs right now and how much fight your sister has in her," The doctor informed and Ray nodded.
         "Frannie's Italian. She slugged the doctor fer havin' cold hands when he delivered her," he stated fondly, with the barest hint of praise in his voice. Fraser almost smiled, knowing how difficult it was for Ray to attempt humor in such a tragic situation.
         "Please be prepared. Your sister's injuries are not pretty, but are remarkably mild considering what she could have suffered," The doctor assured. "If she had not been wearing her seat belt, she would have never made it to the hospital."
         Ray nodded and pushed the door inward to step inside the room. Fraser noticed his partner's hand moving backwards in a silent plea for him to follow, and Fraser could not help but move his hand forward to link their fingers. Ray needed all his support right now.
         The patient that was offered as Francesca Vecchio looked nothing like the vibrantly beautiful young woman that both men knew. This weak, pathetic form held no fiery color in her cheeks or outrageous pink to her lips. She was pale, garishly small against the stark white sheets. Her head was wrapped all the way around and one side of her face held multiple bandages.
         Her left arm was in a cast and mechanical brace, keeping her from moving it. There was a high thick collar around her tiny neck that seemed entirely too large and uncomfortable for such a small woman to have to wear. The heart monitors and other medical machinery made rhythmic sounds and the pump of an attached respirator continued to inflate and deflate with her shallow breathing.
         "My God, Benny," Ray exclaimed in a shocked whisper, his grip tightening in the Mounties's hand. "She looks so...so frail."
         Fraser had been thinking the same thing. He had felt as though the wind had been completely knocked from him and had barely caught himself before allowing an audible gasp to escape. Never had he envisioned this beautiful woman, whose strength he had come to admire, so incredibly defenseless.
         "Francesca is a strong woman, Ray," Fraser reminded, finally finding his voice. "I am sure she will get through this, if any one can." Ray nodded and released Fraser's hand to lean down and gently kiss his baby sister's forehead.
         "You hear that, sis," he whispered tenderly. "Even Benny's rootin' fer ya, baby. You gotta pull through this, okay?"
         Fraser blinked away the sudden moisture in his eyes and rested a supportive hand on his partner's shoulder. Somehow, they all would pull through this.
 

         Ray walked into the room where they told him his mother lay, a sheet drawn respectively over her face, and felt himself start to tremble as he moved closer. Maybe, maybe it wasn't his Ma, maybe it was a mistake and when he pulled the sheet back it would be someone else staring back at him. That idea scared him as well, for he wouldn't be able to look into his Mother's beautiful eyes and not see any of the vibrant, loving source of life he had always found there.
         He swallowed a few times, wishing now he had allowed Benny to come with him, but he had asked the Mountie to stay with Francesca, whether she knew he was there or not. Ray had to do this alone, he understood that, but his feet seemed rooted to the floor. He couldn't help the guilt that rose up inside him, thinking if only he had agreed to take his mother to the market that day she might not be dead and Frannie wouldn't be in a coma. He'd seen plenty of dead bodies before, this shouldn't be so hard, because he firmly believed that was all that was under that white sheet, a dead body. His mother had gone to her reward and she was no longer in that body, so he should not be having such a problem with this.
         "Just breathe, Vecchio," he told himself, trying not to think of when he had gone with his mother to identify his father's body many years ago.
         Ray hadn't yet made detective when his father drunkenly got behind the wheel of his vehicle, after spending most of the day and evening at Fanellie's, and crashed into a telephone pole, killing him instantly. When Ray had heard the news of his father's death, he could only remember offering a silent prayer that the bastard hadn't hit another car or killed anyone but himself.  Joseph Vecchio wasn't exactly up for Father of the Year at their house, and his oldest son had grown to hate him over the years due to the misery the man had caused all of them.
         He had been the strong comforting son for Ma, but had felt nothing when they pulled open the drawer that held his father's body at the morgue ; nothing, that is, but relief that the suffering had ended and they could all start to rebuild their lives. His mother had taken it hard, naturally, for the man was still her husband despite all the pain he had caused her and her children.
         Frannie probably got off the easiest. She was the youngest and the apple of Pop's eye, until she eloped with that creep Donald at just eighteen. She'd only known him less then a month and the marriage only lasted about three weeks because the guy liked to hit women.  Ray and Tony went to have a discussion with their new brother-in-law and he left town the following day, after signing papers to grant Francesca a divorce.
         Ray suspected his sister had eloped so quickly mainly to get out of the house and away from their father's tyrannical abuse. Though Joe never raised a hand to her, Ray understood her fear. How many times did he see Frannie, still just an innocent young girl, cowering in the corner while their father beat Ray or his younger brother Andrew within an inch of their life in a drunken rage? Or witnessing the way Joseph Vecchio belittled Maria and Ma for daring to speak back to him?
             He smiled slightly, remembering a few times when Ma, tired of the abuse her husband was issuing, threatened him with a meat cleaver if he dared to lay a hand on their children again.  Then there was the pool table incident, where Joe Vecchio had been banished from their house for a few days before his wife relented to take him back. His mother was not a weak woman, but she was a devout Catholic and traditionally Italian, so she tried to stick to her place in the family as dictated by that culture. But now and then even the sweetness in her would turn sour, and she would have to push back.
          Once Ray hit puberty he wasn't such an easy target for his father's rage, for he quickly matched his father's height and strength, and started to fight back. Andrew had been smart to take off. Aas soon as he had graduated high school, he joined the priesthood and immediately went overseas to aid third world countries. Ray had been tempted to join his brother more then once, but the idea of giving up women forever hung heavily on him, and he had been in love with Angie at the time, so he continued with his dream to become a cop instead.
          Ray also knew he had to stay to protect his family, especially Francesca. After her failed marriage, she also became a target of their father's rage. Ray knew his tiny sibling would never withstand such a beating. In the end, he stopped fighting. To protect his family, he allowed his father's rage to center on him and deliberately provoked him when needed, to draw his attention away from the others.
         In a way, he always felt slightly resentful of Frannie, simply because she had never had to deal with what he and Maria did. But watching the way she crawled up inside herself at times gave him pause. The outspoken and argumentative side that Frannie showed the world was only part of his sister's persona.
         To this day, he knew she still spent hours alone in her room crying or writing in her diary.  She avoided their father's study, which was actually Ray's now, perhaps remembering that was where most of the beatings took place. She often stayed out walking or driving in all kinds of weather just to avoid going home. Their Father was no longer there, but Francesca still seemed to feel his presence. Ray knew she had been scarred as well.
         With a final deep breath and shrugging off the past, he stepped forward and carefully pulled the sheet back to stare down at his Mother's serenely angelic face. He reached a shaking hand toward her and caressed her pale cheek, relief flooding him that she hadn't been badly scarred or disfigured by the accident.  She just looked like Ma, same as always, and Ray felt tears prick his eyes as he continued to caress his Mother's cold skin.
          She looks like she's sleeping, he thought absently. Very much like he remembered her looking when he caught her dozing on the living room sofa after a long day of housework and cooking, or when they would wake her up Christmas morning. He smiled a little, knowing his Mother had been up cooking and filling stockings long before any of them, if she had even gone to sleep the night before.
          She would sneak back upstairs the moment she heard the scamper of feet in the rooms above, then close her eyes and pretend she was asleep. Then the Vecchio children would all throw open the door and converged on her with kisses and hugs and Christmas wishes, and Ma would act all surprised and try to thwart their efforts to get her up so they could open their gifts.
         Even Joseph would get into the act, tickling his children and trying to save his wife from their captive arms. Joseph was always great Christmas morning, but by early afternoon he would start drinking again. Sometimes the festive spirit would last within him and he'd be hamming it up and playing with the kid's toys and reading them stories.  Most times, however, he would become moody and start snapping at them for making too much noise. They would disperse to their rooms or a friend's home or wherever to avoid further confrontation, unfortunately leaving Ma to deal with her bastard husband.
         Their father was a mean drunk, belligerent and cruel, but his anger was always wasted on Ma because she would never get angry back. She would just ignore him placidly and go about clearing up or knitting, which only frustrated Joseph until he let the house to haunt a bar somewhere. Even sober, the man was forever criticizing and berating the members of his family. Look out for number one, that was his motto, no matter who you stepped on. It was always about what could Joseph Vecchio get out of it.
         Eventually, his mother would send Ray out to fetch their Father and bring him home, though Ray personally wished he could just leave his old man at Fanellie's or whichever pool hall or tavern he had ended up at that night. Let him wake up on a dirty floor somewhere. But this was still their Father and Ma's husband, so Ray would haul the inebriated Italian home, were he and Ma would get the drunkard undressed and put to bed. The next morning, everyone would pretend it didn't happen, as always.
         Ray shook his head again, not wanting to think of his father. He didn't want to soil his mother's memory by reliving the life of a man not worth thinking about. He glanced down at his mother's soft face again and found himself wishing she would open her eyes with surprise and delight, just as she did so many Christmases ago.
         "Oh Ma," he whispered as he fought to control his raging emotions. "How are we gonna manage without you?"
         Images of being held by warm, loving arms, and tender kisses to soothe his many aches and pains as a child flooded him and he had to press his lips together, hard enough that he could feel the imprint of his teeth, to contain his misery. Through all the misery in his life, all the trials and tribulations Ray had endured, his father, getting into trouble with Frankie Zuko, women, his failed marriage, Ma was always there with one of her special hugs and a plate of cookies and milk.
         He smirked. Even as a grown man, he would turn to her when there was no one else, and she would have the special meal ready for him.  Eating was how Italians got through life. When everything else got you down, eat. That was his Mother's credo. Ray was lucky he had a high metabolism or he'd probably weigh three hundred pounds, or worse, look like his brother-in-law Tony.
          Although his Mother sometimes treated him like the shy little boy he once was, she always respected his decisions as a man. That was all Ray ever worked for, was his Mother's love and respect.  She used to rise early, to make sure he had breakfast before he left, especially on the days he had worked late the night before.
         She called him three or four times a day at work to see how he was doing, and above all, he was never to leave the house without giving her a goodbye kiss or there would be hell to pay. She'd even gotten Benny into the habit, which Ray though was very cool. Above all, Anna Vecchio never failed to tell her son how proud she was of him and his profession, for making the streets safer for those who could not defend themselves against the evils of the world.
         "Ti amore, Mamma. Scusare, mio," he suddenly sobbed, unable to contain his despair any longer. As he lay his head across his Mother's breast, like he did as a child, and hugged her, he wished with all that was in him that his embrace could restore her life or that he could trade places with her. He raised his head and kissed her forehead with trembling softness. "Ti adoro, Angelo mio. I'm so sorry."
 

         Fraser watched over Francesca Vecchio silently from his rigid stance by the window. Ray had gotten her a private room and they had been waiting four days now for the young woman to awaken, each taking turns by her side. Though she had started breathing on her own and the doctors informed them they had managed to stop the internal bleeding, the anticipation was wearing thin on those waiting for her recovery. Ray had stepped out for some coffee to wake himself up and Fraser had been staring out at the rain, saying a silent prayer to whoever would listen that Francesca would be all right.
         He turned back toward the window and watched the drops slide down the glass, pressing his fingers against the pane as if trying to catch them and keep them from falling to the street below. Fraser hadn't had much sleep the last few days, no more than his partner, anyway. Both men were determined to be there in case Francesca woke up. Fraser went to work early in the mornings, stayed until his shift ended at three, then headed for the hospital where he would remain until well after midnight, before he had to return to his apartment to shower and get ready for work again.
         Ray Vecchio had taken some personal time to remain with his sister and take care of the funeral arrangements for Mrs. Vecchio. A sharp pain stabbed at the Mounties's chest, as it did every time he thought of the loving woman who had been as close as a mother to him, and who he had kissed goodbye just a few days ago, unaware it was for the last time. Ma Vecchio had accepted Fraser as one of the family unconditionally, the day Ray first brought him home to dinner. Fraser had been grateful for their love and acceptance.
         Having been an only child, Fraser was startled, and frankly a little frightened, by the large Italian family that bickered with intense anger one moment and were hugging and kissing with tender love and affection the next. It was a contradiction to the Mountie and he found it difficult to understand at first, but he stopped trying and accepted them as they were.
         Fraser glanced back at Francesca, lying so deathly still against the pale white sheets of the hospital bed, despite the colorful afghan Maria had brought from home to add a splash of color to her sister's bed. He remembered the first time he'd met the pretty dark haired Italian, that night he had come to dinner with Ray, and he could not get over how stunningly beautiful Francesca Vecchio was. She had boldly inquired if he had a girlfriend and Ray had pulled him away before he could respond properly.
         She was unlike anyone Fraser had ever encountered, full of fire and spirit, yet vulnerably soft and feminine. She was very young, at least Fraser thought of her that way. Ray's little sister, perhaps by only a few years, but younger just the same. At times Fraser felt ancient next to her.
         Despite the difference in their ages, he couldn't help but be drawn to Francesca like a moth to a flame, which was why he tried to keep a respectable distance between them. He knew he would be in over his head if he ever took that first step toward a relationship with her, and besides, Ray would not approve. His partner had made that clear the day at the precinct after he found out about his sister's night visit to Fraser's apartment.
         Fraser smiled a little and shook his head. How many times had he thought of that night? He had been shocked and flattered when Francesca showed up at his door with some sort of black leather negligee on, unaware that Fraser had just been beaten half to death by Frank Zuko's henchmen. Don't be afraid, Francesca had soothed him, perhaps sensing his distress at having his partner's little sister in his home with barely anything on.
         They had not done anything of course. Fraser had been in no shape to try anything more then sitting up at the time. Which had probably been fortuitous, because although he had entertained the thought of allowing the beautiful woman to have her way with him, he knew it would be wrong to take advantage of her that way. Fraser knew Francesca had a crush on him. He would have to be stupid, blind and deaf not to realize that, but he believed it was just that, a crush.  Although he did not wish to hurt the young woman's feelings, he simply was not the kind of person to take advantage of her infatuation.
         Fraser's feelings for the pretty Italian were a contradiction in themselves, often confusing him and making him behave foolishly around her at times. He was both enamoured of her and frightened of her. She was so bold and honest about her feelings for him and Fraser could barely get out a good morning to her half the time, because he was so often tongue-tied around her. But he did have feelings for her, whether or not those feelings would ever be explored, and he was very worried about her.
         It was strange. Though she was here in the room sleeping, and he saw her every day, Fraser realized he missed her.  He missed her laugh and hearing her harass Ray. He missed the way she mixed up her words or certain phrases, yet she was never embarrassed about her mix up, just mildly annoyed that it should matter to anyone else enough that they corrected her. She knew what she meant and that was all that mattered.
        Fraser missed those fabulously dark eyes of hers and that sexy smile that set his heart pounding as she purred his name in greeting in that special way of hers. The way Francesca said his name often embarrassed Fraser enough to cause him to blush and start stammering, but he willingly accepted the humiliation in return for hearing his name said just that way.  Perhaps he was a little egotistical to enjoy it so much, but then so be it. He was still a man, and to be the object of a young woman's fancy earned him a kind of self- indulgence, as long as he let it go no further.
         His gaze drifted toward Francesca once more and he found himself wishing he could trade places with her so that Ray and Maria would not be suffering so. They needed their sister back, especially after losing Mrs. Vecchio. Fraser wished to end their torment. In all honesty, Fraser wished he were the one lying there instead of her for selfish reasons as well, to ease the breaking heart of a certain Canadian who had grown so fond of the extraordinary woman that had captured his attention so easily.
 
 

         "Caro, you need to go back my darling," Ma Vecchio insisted to her daughter. "You cannot stay with me any longer." Francesca shook her head and smiled at the bluebird perched high in a tree that was singing to her. The garden in which they strolled was decorated in so many varieties of flowers that Francesca would never name them all. It smelled absolutely heavenly.
         "Why won't you come back with me, Ma," she returned. "Or, why can't we just stay here? It's quiet here and so beautiful."
         "Yes, it is beautiful my daughter," Ma agreed, smiling, as she watched Francesca hurry on ahead to uproot a flock of birds perched by the water. Francesca spun around and laughed as the wings flapped around her and moved upward into the sky.
         "Ray will kill me if I even got a scratch on da new car," she muttered, picking up a daisy and slowly twirling it in her fingers.
         "Your brother does not care about the car, Francesca," Ma stated with a sigh. "He is more worried about you. You must wake up now, my darling, and let him know you are okay."
         "Why," Francesca demanded. "What'd he ever do fer me?"
         "He is your brother Caro. He loves you," Ma replied gently. "And your young Benton, he waits to see you awaken as well. You must go back." Francesca shook her head.
         "Why? So Fraser can ignore me some more and Ray can criticize everything I do?"
         "There will be no more argument, daughter," Ma decided firmly. "It is time for you to awaken."
         "I can't Ma," Francesca cried. "Not without you. I can't go back without you! Ray will hate me. Maria will never forgive me." Ma enfolded her daughter in a warm embrace.
         "They are your family, they will love you always," she stated, and Francesca started to cry.
         "I love you Mama, please don't leave us. Don't go away." Francesca glanced up as her mother moved away and realized her surroundings were fading into a darkness she wasn't yet ready for. "Ma! Please Ma! Let me stay with you! I can't face them. I can't!"
         "You are my heart, Caro," Ma Vecchio assured, her soft voice growing faint as she moved further away and the darkness started to swallow up Francesca's vision. "My love for you reaches beyond heaven and earth, my darling." Francesca reached out a desperate hand even as the shadows engulfed her.
         "Ma! Mother don't go!"

 
         Fraser glanced over, startled by Francesca's cry, and quickly moved toward her from his position at the window.
         "Mother don't go," she had cried and reached out her hand as though trying to catch on to someone that she was still seeing in her dream. Fraser had instinctually taken that desperate hand and folded his warm fingers around it as Francesca Vecchio's eyes opened and she stared straight at him.
         "Ma," she asked tearfully, her voice barely audible from lack of use.
         "It's Fraser, Francesca," he informed gently and felt her fingers tighten around his.
         "Fraser," she questioned, confused, as she blinked a few times. Her dark eyes moved but focused on nothing, and Fraser felt his lower lip start to tremble. "Where are you? Why can't I see you?" Because you are blind, dear heart, Fraser wanted to tell her, even as he forced his voice to remain calm.
         "I shall fetch the doctor, Francesca," he offered, but when he went to move away she refused to let go.
         "Don't leave," she cried as Ray opened the door, holding two coffees in his hand. When he saw that his sister was awake, the two coffees were immediately tossed aside as he rushed forward.
         "Frannie," he declared happily.
         "Perhaps you should get the doctor, Ray," Fraser suggested and Ray observed the tight grip his sister had on the Mountie. He grinned, dropped a delighted kiss on his sister's swollen cheek then hurried out.
         "W...who kissed me," she asked, startled, and Fraser smiled.
         "Ray," he assured and for a moment he thought he saw disappointment on her face, but then it was gone.
         "Oh," she said softly, but she didn't release Fraser's hand. "I smell flowers." She inhaled deeply and then for a moment thought she was back in the field with her mother.
         "Your room is practically overflowing with them," Fraser informed. "There are pink roses from Ray and Maria. Daisies from Elaine. An arrangement of Orchids, Lillys, carnations and roses from your church. The department sent a large decorative arrangement of ...." Fraser broke off as the doctor and Ray entered.    "Here is your doctor, Francesca." Francesca finally released him and allowed the physician to examine her.

         Some time later, Ray re-entered his sister's room and moved over to sit beside her, reaching for her hand, which she allowed him to grasp.
         "How you doin', sis," he asked cheerfully as Francesca turned her head away from him.
         "How long," she demanded and Ray blinked confused.
         "How long what, sweetheart?"
         "Stop being nice to me," she declared, pulling her hand away angrily. "I don't need yer pity, just tell me how long I've been here."
         "About five days," Ray replied quietly. "I'm not givin' you pity, Frannie, I..."
         "I know what yer doin'," she hissed. "Ya feel sorry fer me. Well, I don't need it."
         "Damnit Frannie, why ya gotta be like this," Ray demanded, running his hand over his head in frustration. "I'm yer brother, can't I be worried about ya?"
         "Yes," she returned quietly, her fire suddenly vanquished. "But you don't gotta treat me any different because I'm a little banged up and can't see."
         "Frannie I..." Ray bit his lip. He'd been through alot trying to hold things together for his family, and he was so close to the edge now he felt ready to explode. "We almost lost you, too, Sis. I...I couldn't have....I don't think I would have been able to handle losing both of you." Francesca heard the tears in her brother's voice and she reached for him. Ray lay his head on her chest and linked his fingers through hers again.     "I...I'm sorry, I...I just..."
         "Well, ya didn't loose me. I'm still here," she stated grimly and Ray was confused at the dejection he heard in her tone. "When can I go home?"
         "They said I can take you home in three days or so," he informed and she nodded.
         "Is...is it bad, Ray?'
         "Is what bad, Honey," he asked puzzled.
         "My face," she replied softly. "I...I can feel da bandages and da nurse was in here a little while ago talkin' about skin grafts and plastic surgery." Ray silently cursed the stupid woman and meant to track the insensitive bitch down at a later date.
         "I...no, Frannie," he assured, forcing his tone to remain optimistic. "I wouldn't worry about dat little scratch, it's nothin' really."
         "Then why did..." Francesca began and Ray cut her off.
         "Doc says you may need some surgery," he admitted. "But it's nothin' ta worry about, Frannie. You'll be good as new." Francesca was quiet for a long time.
         "And my eyes, Ray," she demanded. "Will dey be good as new too?" Ray was silent, unsure how to respond, but before he could decide she was speaking again.
        "I want ya to do some things fer me, Ray," she asked and he nodded, forgetting she couldn't see him.
         "Anything, Frannie," he returned. "Within reason." She almost smiled and he was glad he had added the barb.
         "I want to use the guest room downstairs. It will be easier fer me ta get around."
         "Sure, Maria already figured that," Ray returned. "She's setting it up."
         "Good. I also don't want you guys helping me any more than is necessary."
         "You got it."
         "Last thing." She took a deep breath, knowing how well this would go over with her brother. "I don't want Fraser in da house." Ray gaped at her in shock.
         "W...what? Frannie! You can't be serious! Why?"
         "I know he's yer partner and yer friend, so I'll accept dat he has to be dere on occasion with you, but I don't want him around me."
         "Frannie! Dat's crazy," Ray exclaimed. "What have you got against Benny all of a sudden?"
         "It's what I want, Ray," she informed firmly. "If you can't do that fer me, I'm not going home." Ray was torn, but his family took priority right now. Frannie need his support.
         "Okay, Frannie," he agreed. "Fer now." She nodded and turned her head away.
         "I'm tired," she stated, and he rose from the chair.
         "I'll let you rest, then," he returned quietly and left the room. Fraser was waiting outside and glanced at him sympathetically. "She...she doesn't want you around, Benny."
         "I know, Ray," he replied, trying to make it easier for his friend. "I apologize for evesdropping. I couldn't help but overhear."
         "She...she's just goin' through a tough time, Benny," Ray assured quickly. "She'll be her old self in no time, and..."
         "Ray, it is okay, really," Fraser offered quietly. "You must do what is best for Francesca." Ray nodded. "I should get back to the consulate, Inspector Thatcher will be wondering where I am. Please keep me apprised of your sister's condition and give her my best."
         "Sure Benny," Ray mumbled, unable to even meet the Mounties's eyes.
 

         "Dat's great, Frannie," Maria exclaimed as Francesca made another trip around the living room, having memorized where everything was.
          She was doing much better and the doctors said she may even get her sight back eventually, but Francesca figured it was better to learn how to get around without it, just in case. They had a blind tutor come and teach her for a few hours a day and then the physical therapist would work with her for her arm and spine injuries. Ray spared no expense in getting her whatever she needed. Francesca was cordial and willing to work with all her new teachers, but would remain stubbornly silent whenever the hospital's counselor would visit.
         Francesca never talked about the accident or losing her mother. She barely spoke to the few friends that called to check on her, quickly informing them she couldn't be better then claiming she had to run, and hang up. However, she would not venture outside the house other than for a trip around the garden with Maria or to go for her weekly check-up at the hospital
         Every now and then she would hear Ray's car pull up and two doors opening and closing. She would move to close her bedroom door and sit in the darkened room, listening to the voices on the porch. Fraser never stepped inside the house, merely accompanied Ray to the porch and waited. Occasionally Francesca would hear the pitter patter of wolf's feet and Diefenbaker would immediately go and sit by her door, pawing at the wood and whining mournfully until either Ray or Maria came to coax him away. Maria always offered Fraser a plate of supper to take home and he declined that as well.
         Maria and Ray were trying to be patient, but Francesca knew they were both starting to get fed up with the way they had to treat their favorite Mountie. Francesca wouldn't budge on the subject. She did not want Benton Fraser around and no one could convince her differently. Despite the guilt in her heart at having to be so cruel to him, she would remain firm. for her own sake.
         It had been almost a month and Christmas was growing near. Maria had tried everything to coerce Francesca into allowing Fraser to come for Thanksgiving and Francesca finally gave in, but told them she would eat in her room. The Vecchios were torn between the people they loved and neither knew what to do about it.
         Finally Ray decided he'd let Frannie eat in her room, but he was not going to neglect Fraser another minute longer. Their decision didn't matter, for Fraser declined the invitation to Thanksgiving dinner and Francesca knew her brother and sister blamed her for the Mounties's refusal.
         "I said he could come," Francesca argued as Ray confronted her. "If he said no, dat's his problem."
         "He said no because of you," Ray accused. "The same reason he has said no to every damn thing I've asked him to do off duty, because of you. He knows you don't want him around and he's trying to be the polite Mountie and do the right thing."
         "Then it's his problem," Francesca spat angrily.
         "Frannie, I'm askin' him over fer Christmas," Ray decided. "You can spend the whole freakin' week in yer room if you want, but my friend is not going to be alone fer the holidays. If Ma were here, she'd..."
         "Ma's not here, though, is she, Ray," Francesca turned on him. Despite her blindness, there was fury in her eyes. "Which makes you da head of the household fer real, so invite Fraser, invite Welsh, invite all of freakin' Chicago for all I care, cause I won't be celebratin' Christmas with any of you." Ray was shaking with anger and full of despair that he couldn't get through to his sister's misery.
         "Why do you hate him so much all of a sudden," he demanded. "What has Benny done to deserve this? He's never treated you with anything but respect and decency. He's even picked up fer you with me. What is wrong, Francesca?"
         "Like you said, Ray," she muttered, moving to find her chair by the window and sitting down, turning her back to him. It didn't matter that she couldn't see outside, she just liked sitting there. "Guys like him never go fer girls like me." Ray growled in exasperation.
         "Is that what this is about? All of a sudden ya decide to listen to me," Francesca shrugged. "Bullshit! You wouldn't listen to me about Fraser or any other man ya had it bad fer, Frannie, and ya know it. I'm just yer brother, I don't know shit about yer personal life, remember? You will not pin yer treatment of Benny on me, not dis time."
         "Leave me alone, Ray," Francesca warned. "I told you to invite him if you want, but I won't be there." Ray threw his hands up in the air and finally slumped in the chair.
         "He wouldn't come even if I asked him, Goddamnit," he muttered.
         "Ya'd better watch yer mouth, bro," She warned. "Before ya end up with a months worth of confession. So Fraser doesn't want to come, how is dat my fault?" Ray growled at her.
         "Because you don't want him here and he knows it," Ray stated angrily. "Christ, Francesca, why won't you talk to me? Why do you have to be this way? Losin' Ma was bad enough, but I feel like...I feel like I've lost you, too."
         "That's stupid, Ray," Francesca retorted. "I'm right here."
         "No," he sighed, standing up again. "No Frannie, yer not. I don't know where my little sister is, or who she is anymore, and damnit, it's tearin' me apart that I can't help ya." Francesca remained silent. "You...you do what you gotta do, Frannie. I...I can't take it anymore. You won't let us help you, you stay in this damn room like yer a prisoner, ya won't talk to us or to the counselor, then tell me what the hell ya want me to do. How do I help you get through this? Who can you talk to, Frannie?"
         "Just leave me alone, Ray," she replied quietly. "I just want to be left alone."
         "No Frannie, I won't leave you alone. Yer my sister and I love you." She heard him stride to the door. "Ya won't talk to us, ya won't talk to da shrink, but I know someone ya will talk to because, he'll stick it out until you do." Francesca almost stumbled in her rush to get out of the chair.
         "Don't you dare, Ray," she cried out, furious. "Don't you bring him here, or I swear to God I will never speak to you again!"
         "Yer not speakin' to me now, Frannie," he reminded quietly as he opened the door. "But you will talk ta him."
         Francesca screamed at him as he closed the door quietly behind him, reaching for whatever she could grasp. She found a picture frame on a nearby table and threw it in the general direction of the door, listening to it bounce off the wood and the glass crack as it hit the floor. She groped for her chair and slid into it, blinking at the tears in her eyes. He wouldn't bring him here, Ray would never betray her like that, how could he?
 

         Andrew Vecchio entered the Vecchio household as quietly as a church mouse and set his bag by the door. It looked like everyone was still asleep, but then it had only been a little after five when he got a cab from the airport. He pushed the door closed and locked it, pocketing the key, then just stood there for a long moment, inhaling the sense and feel of home. He hadn't stepped foot inside this house, where he grew up, in over ten years and there had always been an emptiness inside him that he could never fill.
         He pulled off his coat, hung it in the closet and then headed into the kitchen to put the coffee on. Everything was the same, nothing had changed, not even where their mother kept the filters and coffee grounds. He regretted missing her funeral, but he had been in Kenya not been able to get back in time.
         When he spoke to Ray, he was assured that the family understood and that they hoped he would make it home for Christmas this year. It was always the same invitation every year, yet Andrew never came home for the holidays, or any other reason. There were too many bad memories, too many demons he wasn't prepared to unleash. Then he received Ray's letter a week ago about their little sister, and Andrew knew this was the time to come home.
         Francesca had always been his favorite sister. He got along well with Maria, but there was just something about Frannie that always made him happy to be with her. They were inseparable growing up, and then things changed. When Andrew left home to join the Priesthood, his mother and Maria were proud, his brother relieved and his father laughed in his face at the idea. Frannie was, of course, heart broken that he would be leaving her, but he never expected her to take it as hard as she did.
         Perhaps Andrew never realized how much she had come to depend on him, how cherished he was to her, but he soon learned how very much his leaving had hurt his baby sister. She cut off all ties with him, refusing to answer his calls and returned his letters unopened. When he had come home for their father's funeral, she would not speak to him and spent most of the day in her room away from the rest of the family. He never quite understood her anger, but had been forced to accept it.
         Now, Ray had mentioned she was closing in on herself and he was worried what was going to become of their baby sister if things continued as they were. Andrew knew all about Fraser, and Francesca's affection for the Mountie, and had read the confusion in his brother's letters as to why she was so angry with the Canadian.
          Andrew probably knew Francesca better than anyone, despite their years of separation. He could always get her to talk to him and tell him what was wrong. Now it seemed that gift was about to be put to the test. He would have to work hard to break down the barriers Francesca had put between herself and everyone else, but then, he had plenty of experience at that from working so many years as a missionary.
         He heard a door close upstairs and quickly poured a cup of coffee, then moved back out into the foyer as his older brother appeared on the upper landing.
         "Andy," Ray greeted softly, so as not to wake the rest of the house, as he strolled down the steps in his favorite gray Armani suit and designer tie. "I didn't think you'd be here 'till tomorrow."
         The brothers embraced for a long moment before Andrew offered him the cup. Where Ray took after his father, Andrew had his mother's coloring and dark eyes, like Francesca. He was tall and thin, with a full head of thick black hair. His skin was a dark rich brown from the hot African sun, which made the white collar he wore stand out even more against his skin and the dark shirt he wore.
         "I bribed a few people to get me out of Kenya a little sooner," Andrew commented, his accent slightly thickened from his time abroad, and Ray thought he almost sounded British. "You're up early."
         "I've got the early shift at the station," Ray explained, surprising Andrew by remaining where he was to sip his coffee, since the detective almost always drank it in the kitchen. Andrew hadn't been home in awhile, so maybe things had changed. "Maybe later you can drop by and I'll give ya a tour where I work."
         "I'd love that, Raime," Andrew smiled and watched his brother's color heighten slightly.
         "Um...don't call me that in public, okay, Kid, kinda ruins my rep." Andrew laughed.
         "I promise," he assured. "If you promise not to call me Kid." Ray grinned.
         "Ooh, I didn't say I was gonna bargain now," Ray chuckled, but the amusement never reached those dark emerald eyes.
         "Are you hungry," Andrew suggested moving back toward the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee and maybe one of the sweet rolls he'd seen on the table, expecting Ray to follow.
         "I..." Ray paused and lowered his eyes, the pulse in his jaw flexing dangerously, alerting Andrew that his brother was close to an emotional breakdown. "I'm not hungry, Andy."
         "What's wrong, Ray," Andrew asked softly, noticing that the detective remained just outside the kitchen doorway.
         Ray shrugged, watching as his brother served up another coffee and grabbed one of the rolls, settling at the kitchen table, obviously expecting Ray to sit with him. Ray sipped his coffee as he leaned against the door frame and resisted the nausea that welled up inside him. His palms were sweaty and his hands slightly shaky.
         "Ray," Andrew asked again, rising from the table and approaching his brother concerned. Ray had grown quite pale.
         "I...I haven't..." Ray began. "I haven't been able to...to come in here since Ma died," He finally admitted and Andrew cast him a sympathetic look. "I...I see her everywhere, feel her presence all over the house, but here...she...she was just always here, and..." He shook his head and gestured at the large kitchen emphatically. " I...I can't seem to get past...without her it isn't da same, y'know?" Andrew nodded and stepped forward, outside the kitchen to pull Ray into his arms..
         "I miss her too, Raime," he whispered, taking Ray's cup and setting it aside, before folding the trembling man in his embrace again.
          He couldn't imagine Ray not being able to step inside the kitchen in their own home. It was practically where they grew up. Full of fond memories, the kitchen was the one place where no outside conflicts could reside, because Ma Vecchio wouldn't allow it.
         "I...I feel like it's my fault, Andy," Ray whispered wretchedly and Andrew felt hot tears sting his eyes. It was intimately painful to see his older brother so distressed. Ray had always been the strong one, never a tear, never a show of weakness. "Ma...she wanted me ta take her to da market and I told her ta get Frannie ta drive her. I shoulda done it, she might be alive if..."
         "It's no one's fault, Ray," Andrew refused firmly. "It was an accident. Frannie is a good driver, you've told me that yourself. It might have happened even if you had driven Ma. You couldn't have known something like this would happen."
         "But I should have been dere, Andy," Ray insisted miserably. "I could've protected her. I..."
         "You're not God, Raime," Andrew protested. "He must have had a reason for wantin' Ma with him. You know it's never about blame or who did or didn't do something. It's His will."
         Ray nodded and clung to him, needing the support of a brother, and the knowledge that someone forgave him. Finally they broke apart, each sniffing suspiciously and Ray using his pocket handkerchief to wipe the tears from his eyes.
         "I really miss her, Andy." He released a shaky sigh. "And...I don't know how ta get through ta Frannie. Maria's barely holdin' it together, but at least she's got da kids and Tony ta look after her. Me and Frannie, we just got each other, y'know, it's all we've had since..." he broke off and Andrew bowed his head, ashamed.
         "Since I left," he finished quietly and Ray nodded reluctantly.
         "Ya did what ya had to do, Andy. No one blames you."
         "Frannie does," Andy sighed as they moved toward the front door, so Ray could retrieve his coat from the hall closet. "I shouldn't have stayed away so long. I am sorry, Ray."
         "Don't worry about it," Ray dismissed as Andy held the coat for him. "Besides, things have been better since I met Benny." Andy nodded and smiled.
         "Will I get to meet the Mountie finally," Andrew inquired and Ray smiled, back to his old self..
         "Sure, if ya survive yer talk with Frannie," Ray retorted, fishing his keys out of his pocket. "I gotta get to work, but you know my cell number. Call me if ya need an attempted homicide investigated."
         "Gee, Raime," his brother smirked. "If yur tryin' to scare me away, it's workin'."
         "She's messed up pretty bad, Andy," Ray warned seriously. "She's shuttin' everyone and everything out, I don't know what to do anymore." He shook his head. "She's gonna hate me fer callin' you."
         "No more than usual, I imagine," Andrew teased, trying to put his older brother at ease. Ray had always been the family's strength and problem solver. Now it was time Andrew took some of the pressure off and grabbed the reins for awhile. He squeezed Ray's shoulder affectionately.
         "Love you, Caro," Ray smiled and patted Andrew's shoulder in a similar fashion.
         "Just keep sayin' that while yer in with Frannie. I'd be pissed if you ended up hating me to fer putin' ya through it."
         "I'd never hate you, Raime, you know that," Andrew stated firmly and Ray nodded again.
         "Yah I know," he admitted. "I'll see ya later."
         Andrew watched him leave then quietly closed the door and returned to the kitchen to finish his coffee. He rose finally and put both mugs in the dishwasher and retrieved his bag from the hall. He pulled out a change of clothes and headed for the downstairs washroom for a quick shower

 
         After freshening up, and a quick hello to Maria and Tony, who had woken to get the kids off to school, he headed for the guestroom, which Frannie was now using. He entered quietly and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dimness in the room. There were no lights on, and Francesca had pulled the blinds on the windows, making it seem even darker.
         She lay on the bed, curled up under the covers as Andrew remembered seeing her sleep many times before. Two long, serrated scars marred her perfectly porcelain skin from the middle of her left cheek up to just before her ear. The skin around them seemed to hold a yellowish tint, setting it apart from the rest of her smooth complexion.
         Ray had informed Andrew that there were surgeries and new procedures to cosmetically repair the scaring on their sister's face and she'd be good as new. Francesca, it seemed, doubted that. Since she couldn't see for herself, only feel it with her fingers and imagine the hideous wound, she would not allow them to discuss surgery, or let anyone outside of her family to see her.
         "Frannie," he whispered gently as he pushed a lock of her hair back from her face. She murmured in her sleep and turned away from him. "Honey, wake up, it's Andy."
         "G'way," she muttered and snuggled further beneath her covers. Andrew smiled, and settled next to her. Obviously Frannie was still not a morning person. He called her name again and finally her eyes opened and she stared at him vacantly.
         "Frannie," he inquired, testing to see if she was awake yet.
         "Who's there," she asked so painfully soft that Andrew felt his heart go out to her. He didn't see the strong, stubborn person Ray had wrote to him about. All he saw was a vulnerable and frightened girl.
         "It's Andrew, Frannie," he greeted and she immediately turned away from him.
         "I don't want you here. Go away," she stated furiously, but Andrew remained unmoving. "Yer not my father confessor and I have nothing ta say to you, so you've wasted a trip. I will never forgive Ray fer bringing ya here."
         "I came of my own accord, Frannie," Andrew replied quietly. "Ray only told me what was going on. I made the decision to come on my own."
         "Well, now you can turn around and decide ta go back."
         "Why?"
         "I don't want ta talk to you!"
         "I don't care if ya want to talk to me or not," Andrew retorted. "This isn't about your childish little grudge against me, it's about you, Frannie."
         "Just leave me alone!"
         "You've been left alone," Andrew shot back. "Ray and Maria and everyone have been trying to adhere to yur every wish and it's given you the idea that ya can get away with such rotten behavior, because Ma isn't here ta take ya over her knee..."
         "You shut up!" Francesca screamed at him, bolting up in the bed and lashing out at him. He defended her blows easily, since she couldn't see him, but didn't move from his position on the bed. "Don't you dare talk to me about Ma! You never even bothered to come to her funeral, you bastard!"
         "I tried to come, Frannie," Andrew barked, catching hold of her wrists to thwart her attacks. "I was stuck in a tiny hell hole in Africa when Ray called and left a message with the Sister there. I didn't get it until three days later, and when I called, Ray said the funeral was over but dat they understood why I didn't make it."
         "Well, Ma wouldn't have understood," Francesca denied, still struggling against him and trying to get her hands free. "You should have been here, she was yer mother." Andrew moved his grip up to her upper arms and shook her enough to get her attention.
         "Yes she was, and I feel like a hole had been cut out of my heart now that she's gone, but it's not nearly as big as the hole you've left dere, Frannie. Now I've a complete set." Francesca blinked in confusion.
         "I...I don't..."
         "Ya cut me out of yur life when I left here, Francesca," he explained bitterly. "I never understood why and I tried ta make up fur whatever it was I did to make ya hate me, but it was never enough and eventually I realized that any trips I made home just put added pressure on the family because of yur bloody hatred." He caressed her cheek tenderly, as his voice grew softer. "I never meant to hurt ya, Frannie. I love ya and always have, but I didn't want to come home because I couldn't stand to see the hate in yur eyes directed at me. It almost killed me." He released her and stepped away abruptly.
         "That shouldn't have stopped you," Francesca accused. "This is yer family and ya should have been here to..."
         "I couldn't be here, Frannie," Andrew exclaimed, frustrated. "Not while Pop was alive." Francesca folded her arms around herself and shook with anger.
         "We all had to deal with Pop, we all made it through just fine, but you...you ran away to hide behind da church."
         "It wasn't like that," Andrew denied. "Yes, I joined the priesthood. It was what I thought I should do. But you have no right to hate me because I got out of dis place and away from the abuse, Francesca. You have no idea what went on between me and pop. You were always his precious favorite and he hardly ever even bothered with you, but Ray and me were on the receiving end, and I finally couldn't take it anymore."
         "I know Pop didn't hit me around like he did you," she screamed, twisting violently and tearing herself away from his grip. She stumbled out of the bed, shaking furiously as she turned back toward him. "Ya think I don't feel bad about dat every day of my stinkin' life? But I had to watch him do it and couldn't stop him, don't ya think I wanted to do something? Don't you think I hated seeing you and Ray getting beaten and degraded all da time?"
         "Look, I didn't want to get into this," Andrew denied. "I don't want to talk about Pop, or the church or any of that other stuff. I came to find out what is wrong with you."
         "Why don't you want to talk about the church," Francesca demanded, as she felt her way around the bed to where she believed him to be and Andrew stood to wait for her. "Shouldn't this be the part where I fall to my knees and beg you Father fer forgiveness of my sins?"
         "Frannie, don't..." he warned but she was too far incensed and she fell to her knees before him, bowing elaborately.
         "Oh Father forgive me for..."
         "Stop it," he demanded, grabbing her arms, pulling her roughly to her feet, and Francesca knew she had gone too far. "This is not a game and I won't have you disgrace the church by such spiteful arrogance. You want to confess yur sins then go to church. I can't help you."
         "Yer a priest," she hissed, struggling against him. "Isn't that what a priest does?"
         "I'm not a priest anymore, Francesca," he stated coldly and shoved her away from him, toward the bed to break her fall, as he turned his back to her and ripped off the white collar. "I haven't been one fur almost eleven years now." Francesca stared at him in shock, but he refused to turn back to her as he carefully folded the treasured collar. "I'm still wearin' the collar for Heaven's sake. I wore it because...out of habit really. I didn't know how to tell you or Maria."
         "W...why," Francesca finally managed. They had all been so proud of Andrew for joining the church, even Frannie, despite her anger.  Andrew was quiet for a long time, before he finally turned to her with of tears in his eyes.
         "Frannie, I was never gonna tell ya any of this," he admitted quietly. "I couldn't handle any more of yur hate and disappointment." He took a deep breath and stared down at the collar in his hands. "I left because...because Pop found out I was gay and he banished me from the house." He grimaced, barely hearing her gasp. "But not before he beat me half ta death and threatened ta kill me if I ever came back. No son of his was gonna be a fag, and he would kill me himself before he allowed anyone else to know."
         "B...but you were a priest," she whispered, confused. Her emotions were dangerously close to exploding around her and the room was spinning slightly as she slowly sat up on the bed.
         "Yes, I was fur many years and I enjoyed ministering, but...eventually I had to be honest with myself." He sighed and shook his head, still unable to meet her gaze. "I thought becoming a priest would change me, or at least make da...the feelings I was having go away, but it didn't. I loved my work with da church, but sooner or later I knew my secret would be revealed, so I left on my own. I still have my faith, Frannie. I'm still a devout Christian and Catholic, but...dere are just certain things I can't adhere to anymore."
         "D...did Ma know," Francesca demanded and he shook his head.
         "No, other than Pop, Ray is the only one who knew."
         "Ray knew," Francesca shrieked. "And he...he still..." she fumbled with the words and Andrew almost smiled.
         "Still what, Frannie? Still spoke to me, still loved me as his brother?" She nodded. "At first he was really angry, I could understand dat. I mean, da way we were brought up, it's a sin to be homosexual, and Ray is very firm in his faith." Andrew shrugged. "We argued and screamed and he swore I would go to hell, but den I guess he started to accept it a little at a time. I was still his brother, after all, and family is just as important as faith to Ray. But when he saw what Pop did to me, I guess it made him think he was no better for the way he had been treatin' me, and den it was...I don't know, a miracle maybe, but Ray accepted me as I was. We wrote a lot over da years and maybe learned a bit too. He knew when I left da Priesthood and had agreed with my decision, but we never told Ma or any of you."
         "Andy I..." Francesca didn't know what to say. How did one respond to such news? Andy had been living in fear that his family would find out he was gay and disown him, and he had only Ray to talk to about it.
         "I lost ya years ago Frannie, and I finally came to terms with dat," he continued. "But then we lost Ma and I've been throwing myself into my work to keep from feeling so lost." He shook his head wearily. "Now you want to shut out the world and all who care about ya and that isn't right, Frannie. You weren't the one who died. Ya need to start living again and stop feeling sorry for yurself."
         "You don't understand," she murmured and turned away. "No one understands."
         "Then make us understand, Caro," he encouraged softly. "You have a family who loves you, Frannie, so much I don't think you even realize it. A family dat has been broken into separate pieces by da loss of Ma, everyone trying to deal in their own way with their grief and still be strong for the others."
         "I don't want dem ta be strong fer me," Francesca cried. "I want dem ta just leave me alone." Andrew turned her toward him, his hands squeezing her shoulders gently.
         "Frannie, we are going to be strong fur you, and tend to you and try to make things better because you are what we have left."
         "Ya can't," she sobbed. "No one can."
         "Only if ya don't tell us what's wrong," Andrew pressed. "We look at you and we thank God because you survived, don't you understand?" Francesca shook her head miserably. "Frannie, we can't be a complete family with pieces missing."
         "Ma and Pop are gone," she murmured. "We'll never be a family again." He shook his head.
         "No sweetheart, yur wrong. We just need to draw closer together so the gaps they left are less noticeable. But we can't do dat when one of the pieces are broken, and won't be fixed."
         "I'll never be fixed, Andy," she stated remorsefully, and he bit his lip as his heart went out to her.
         "Only if you don't let us help you, baby. Let us love you." Francesca remained silent. "What about this Fraser fellow, I thought you and he were close? What has he done to deserve yur anger? Surely he didn't abandon ya as you think I did." She shook her head.
         "I don't...I don't want his pity."
         "His pity? Why would he pity you," Andrew inquired, puzzled, and she pushed away from him, furiously slapping at her scar.
         "This is why," she screamed. "I'm a monster! I wouldn't see the disgust in his eyes, Andy, but I'd know it was dere and I won't accept his sympathy." Andrew shook his head and stepped forward, reaching his fingers toward the scar, watching her flinch away when he touched it. "Don't! I'm hideous!" He dropped his hand and gazed at her quietly.
         "You aren't a monster, Frannie," he refused softly. "That little scratch can be mostly taken care of with plastic surgery, honey."
         "Little scratch," she shrieked. "It's a damn crater and it will scar, the doctors said..."
         "It might scar, it might not," Andrew countered as he started to pull off his collar and pull at his shirt. "We all have battle scars Caro. Not all are visible on da surface, but of those few dat are, you have nothing ta worry about."
         He pulled his shirt over his head and revealed the discoloration of long jagged lines that extended from his left shoulder, down across his back and part of his right side, to all the way around his torso in hideously white claw marks. He grasped her left hand and ran her fingers across the texture.
         "W...w...what happened," she whispered in distress as he watched her automatically cringe at the disproportionate feel of his injuries. He did not pull away, but allowed her trembling hand to trace the scars on his flesh.
         "I was mauled by a tiger trying to save a young woman from the village where I was visiting," he stated calmly, then pulled his shirt back on. "Pretty awful right?" Francesca could only allow her hands to drop to her lap as tears entered her eyes. "Funny thing is, I thought it was the end of life as I knew it. I had just left the church and then this happened. I was fully determined to curl up and die, or go live as a hermit, but da African people wouldn't allow it. Dey asked me to stay and continue to teach as I had been. It made no difference dat I was no longer a priest. Dey don't put much store in a person's outward appearance as what dey contribute as a member of their tribe. Most honored me as a brave and fearless man for facing da tiger. The women all thought I was the greatest thing since sliced bread, and over all I garnered a lot friends from it. I can walk around dere with my shirt off and all I get are looks of admiration and respect, not disgust."
         "We're not in Africa," Francesca reminded, subdued. "And Fraser will..."
         "Fraser will like you as much as he ever did, because yur you, Frannie," Andrew insisted quietly. "He isn't going to care about a little scar, not from what Ray has told me of him. And if he does, den honey, he isn't worth worrying over."
         "I...I just..." She wiped at her eyes in frustration and felt her brother's arms going around her. "I don't deserve him...don't...I shouldn't be..." she shook her head unable to express what she was feeling.
         "What, Frannie," Andrew encouraged kindly as he settled on the bed next to her and took her tiny hands in his. "Why don't you deserve Fraser? He makes you happy, doesn't he?" She nodded. "You really like him, don't ya? And despite all the stuff Ray has said about what he thinks is infatuation, I think you might even love him, am I right?"
         "That's why," she cried forlornly, her hands griping his desperately. "Don't you see?" She unknowingly raised tear filled eyes to his and Andy felt his heart breaking at her despair. "I feel so bad about...I was driving, Andy. Why...why did Ma have to be da one to die? Why couldn't God have taken me, Andy? W...why did He leave me and t...take Ma?"
         "Because that was God's plan, honey," Andrew soothed as he rocked her gently in his arms, not forcing her to turn into him, just holding her. "You obviously haven't finished yur work here yet and I'm so glad, because I'm not ready to lose you yet either, Frannie." He turned then and wrapped her arms around him. "Give Fraser a chance. Give all of us a chance, it doesn't have to be the end, but a beginning."
         "I want it to be me," she sobbed, wrapping her arms around him and turning her face into his shoulder.  "It's my fault that Ma died and I...I can't fix it. I know Ray and Maria hate me and..."
         "Honey, it wasn't yur fault," Andrew assured gently, as the door opened and he glanced over, surprised to find Ray standing there. His gaze told the detective to be quiet and so Ray remained where he was and allowed his brother and sister to find comfort in one another.
         "It is," she cried. "I killed Ma! I should have been p...paying a...attention and...and not t...thinking of...of..."
         "What sweetheart?"
         "F...Fraser," she declared mournfully. "I was thinkin' about Fraser and I...I usually look b...both ways at an I...I...intersection because I...I k...know...Ray always says... people run da l...lights and...I...I didn't I...I was thinkin of Fraser and j...just headed through w....without l...lookin' and M...Ma died! S...she died and it shoulda been me, Andy."
         Andrew continued to soothe her as he exchanged a horrified glance with his older brother, who had paled dramatically at his sister's confession. Ray looked angry, concerned, frightened. All those things and more registered on his face, and Andrew knew his brother was having difficulty sorting his emotions out at the moment.
         "I've hurt him so much, Andy," Francesca murmured, her sobs finally subsiding as Andy continued to hold her. "I've hurt everyone so much I don't know how ta take it back. I wanted Ray to be mad at me fer Ma dyin', but he wasn't and I can't handle the guilt. I hate dat I survived. I want to be with Ma." Andrew frowned and pulled her closer.
         "Sweetheart, Ma's with the angels, probably cookin' up a batch of Gaspatcho fur the Big Man himself," he promised with a small smile. "Yur okay, Ray's okay and Fraser's okay. Everyone will be just fine, but you gotta let it go and move on." Francesca sniffed and shook her head. "You remember what Ma always told us when things were lookin' tough? Whenever God closes a door..."
         "S...somewhere He opens a window," Francesca finished huskily. "I...I'm just so afraid Andy. If R...Ray finds out what I did, he'll hate me, I know he will. He doesn't think I love Fraser, not really, but I do, Andy, I really do, that's why I want him to stay away. It's my punishment. I can't ever be with him or think about him again because of what I did. I know Ray will hate me because I wasn't payin' attention. R...Ray's right. I don't deserve a guy l...like Fraser anyway."
         "Ray would never hate you, Frannie," Andrew assured, glancing again at his brother and finding confirmation in the wounded green eyes that stared helplessly back. "And you deserve whatever you want reach for, whoever your heart belongs to. Everything will be okay." Andy smiled down at her. "Things are already looking up. You and I are speaking again and holdin' each other." She buried her head in his chest and squeezed him harder.
         "Never let go," she whispered and he replied with a straight face.
         "That would make going to the bathroom a little tricky, but we'll manage it."
         She giggled and Ray found himself delighting in the sound. He hadn't heard Frannie laugh since the accident. He watched her slap Andrew's chest playfully, then snuggle closer, as Ray stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly behind him.
 

         Ray headed straight for the front door, forgetting the file he had returned home for, and quickly climbed back behind the wheel of the Rivera. He backed out of the drive and sped away, trying to get a hold of the tidal wave of emotions that was threatening to overtake him.
         He made it three blocks before pulling off to the side, throwing open the door and wrenching painfully into the snow. Finally the nausea subsided and he sat wearily back in his seat, closing his eyes and trying to contain his trembling. His Adam's apple was bobbing furiously as he attempted to swallow past the baseball size lump in his throat, refusing to allow the tears that threatened him to break through.
         Dear God! He couldn't comprehend that Francesca had been living with such torment all this time. He was hurt and angry that she couldn't confide in him, but he had to admit that now he understood why she had cut herself off from Fraser. He squeezed his eyes shut as his fists automatically tightened at the mention of the Mountie.
         Frannie had been daydreaming of his Canadian partner, again, and this time it ended in disaster. Part of him was furious. He was man enough to admit that and fully aware that his Italian blood pushed him to emotional extremes at times, but this...this was just unbelievable.
          What did it take to make his sister understand that the Mountie was not interested? Why did she continue to reach for something that would never be hers? Part of him was convinced she did it just to tick him off, but his protective, brotherly instincts wanted to believe Benny had done something to encourage her. Francesca was not a stupid woman, despite Ray's patronizing behavior toward her at times. She had to see that Fraser avoided her as Ray noticed him doing. Unless she saw something Ray did not, some sign that Fraser enjoyed her flirtation. If that were the case, Ray would be very upset.
         The fact that neither she nor Benny ever told him what had happened that night at the Mounties's apartment stuck in his craw, yet he had to assume nothing had or Francesca would not have been trying so damned hard to make herself noticeable to his friend. Ray had wanted to respect their privacy. If they didn't want to tell him what happened, he had to except that. But he could not honestly believe that his little sister was really and truly in love with the Mountie. It just didn't wash.
          Obviously, whatever his sister's feelings for Fraser, Francesca was punishing herself for their Mother's death by denying herself the one thing she seemed to treasure most, contact with Benny. Ray had never approved of a relationship between his partner and little sister, and obviously his feelings had not been lost on Francesca. But the idea that she had been blaming herself all this time had shocked and frightened Ray, because he had not been able to see his sister's fears. She refused to let him see, because she thought he would blame her as well, and even hate her for causing the accident.
         "Oh Frannie," he sighed as he pulled the car door closed, shutting out the cold, and headed back to the station. "Why didn't ya tell me?"
         He had to find a way to get past her fear of him being angry so that they could talk about this. Frannie never worried about upsetting him before. Sometimes she seemed to revel in pushing his patience to the limit, but this was different from their usual sibling rivalry.
         Francesca was truly afraid of Ray hating her, blaming her, and Ray had to admit that he had probably given her every cause to think that because of the way he treated her at times. When he thought about it, really considered his past behavior, he realized his aggravation and impatience with his little sister had caused him to be just like their father. He contemplated all the times he had snapped at her, put her down, humiliated her, especially in front of the Mountie. Sure, she came right back at him, her tongue was just as sharp, but Ray had always just thought of their bickering as a game.
         He remembered being in the interview with Francesca, the day he'd found out about her nightly visit to Fraser's. She had been furious at him for interfering in her life, put him in his place good and proper, but he told her why he said the things he had, why he was worried. They had embraced and things were good again, but he couldn't help wishing he could have taken back what he said about girls like her and guys like Benny. He hadn't meant it as an insult. He was just trying to protect her.
         Francesca still openly pursued Fraser, so Ray assumed nothing he had said had made a difference, but apparently it had. He wondered if Fraser had sensed his disapproval as well, and maybe that was why he had tried to distance himself from Francesca. If Ray truly believed they would be happy together, he wouldn't stand in their way. He loved them both, but it seemed his arrogance and protectiveness may have ruined everything.
         He considered talking to Fraser about it. He had gotten used to the Mountie helping him solve some of his problems, and perhaps he would have some ideas of how to approach Francesca, but then he thought better of it. Somehow, Ray knew the Mountie would find a way to deflect the blame onto himself and the Detective couldn't allow that. One depressed martyr was enough for him to deal with at the moment.
 
 

         At the station, Ray was surprised when he walked in to find Fraser waiting for him at his desk. It was not even yet eight O'clock and Benny usually pulled guard duty until noon. Fraser was dressed in civilian clothes, blue jeans, ivory turtleneck and his brown jacket and Stetson.
         "Hey, Benny," he greeted, forcing a smile to his lips, as he dropped the file on his desk. "Yer here early. The Dragon Lady let ya off yer leash fer the day, or what?"
         "I requested some personal time and Inspector Thatcher was kind enough to grant it to me, Ray," Fraser replied quietly and Ray frowned.
         Nothing short of hospitalization would usually convince Fraser to take any time off work, despite that the dependable Mountie probably had over a year's worth of sick and vacation days coming to him. Something was really bothering his partner and Ray meant to find out what.
         "I was just gonna grab some breakfast, anyway, Benny," he assured, moving back around his desk. "Come with me and we can talk."
         "Thank you kindly, Ray," Fraser agreed gratefully and Ray noticed some of the rigid tension flow from his uptight friend.
         They walked to the corner dinner a block from the precinct and selected their regular booth. Ray ordered a plate of eggs and sausage with a cup of coffee, but Fraser requested only a couple of pieces of toast and a glass of juice.
         "That all yer gonna have, Benny," the detective scowled and Fraser nodded, laying his Stetson on the seat beside him and folding his hands upon the table, staring down at them.
         "I am not very hungry, Ray," the Mountie explained, glancing out at the gray mist of morning that shrouded the streets and cast a gloomy mid-winter solace through the busy city of Chicago.
         "What's goin' on, Fraser," Ray demanded gently. "Something on yer mind?"
         "No, not really," Fraser quipped, still avoiding his partner's gaze, even when the waitress brought their orders.
         Ray ate his casually. He wasn't really all that hungry himself, but it had been an excuse to get Benny somewhere they could talk other than that damned closet at the station. Fraser barely nibbled his toast.
         "Talk ta me, Benny," he encouraged softly. "Ya know we're friends, and friends share. If somethin's botherin' ya, maybe I can help." Fraser sighed, actually sighed, and the sound startled the detective.
         "It isn't anything really I...I suppose I..." Fraser shrugged, obviously embarrassed to even be discussing this with someone. He shook his head, perhaps deciding to forgo the discussion for the moment, and changed the subject. "How is Francesca?"
         "She's okay," Ray replied automatically, watching his friend intently. "My brother is in town, thinkin' maybe he can straighten her out on a few things."
         "Ahh," Fraser replied and took a sip of his juice. "This is your older brother?"
         "Yah," Ray returned, popping a piece of sausage into his mouth. It was nowhere close to his Mother's cooking, but Ray had taken to eating out a lot lately, so it didn't really matter. "He said he'll probably come by the station later. I promised to introduce you to him."
         "Hmmm," Fraser agreed, pulling his toast apart, but leaving it lay on the plate.
         "Are ya gonna come to Christmas Dinner, Benny," Ray inquired. It was the third time he had asked the Mountie, so he knew what Fraser's response would be, yet he continued to ask.
         "I...I do not believe that would be appropriate, Ray," he returned on cue.
         "Well, I don't care if it's appropriate or not, Benny, yer part of my family and I want ya there fer Christmas," The detective countered firmly.
         "I don't think so, Ray, but thank you..."
         "Yer comin' Fraser and dat's the end of it."
         "Ray I don't..."
         "Don't make me have ta tie ya to my car ta get ya there, Benny because I'll do it, y'know."
         "Please, Ray," Fraser sighed, suddenly sounding more tired and defeated than Ray had ever heard as he caressed his brow, agitated. "I do not wish to argue about this, I simply cannot attend. I am sorry."
         "Give me a good reason and I might consider lettin' ya off da hook," Ray challenged.
         "I will not be here," Fraser replied quietly and Ray shot him a startled glance.
         "Where will you be," he asked suspiciously.
         "I have requested some time off, Ray," Fraser stated. "I am going to Canada for awhile." The Mountie was fully prepared for the look of betrayal his partner shot him.
         "When were ya gonna tell me, Benny," he questioned with a trace of anger in his voice. Fraser blinked for a moment, but answered honestly without hesitation.
         "I only received an answer from Inspector Thatcher today, Ray. That was why I came to see you."
         "Why are ya goin' home," Ray demanded. "There's nothing dere for you, no family, barely a shack to live in, so what the hell ya goin' back fer, Benny?"
         Fraser was silent and Ray hated his harsh words the moment he had said them. It was cruel to remind the Mountie that he had no family left, but he couldn't understand why his partner would want to be alone at Christmas.
         "At least ya got us here, Fraser," he reminded softly. "Someone to spend the holidays with, people who care about ya and want ya with 'em. We're yer family. "
         "I am not a blood relation to you or any of your relatives, Ray," Fraser reminded firmly. "I have no family, as you have just pointed out, and I do not care to..." He broke off suddenly and had the grace to look chagrinned at what he was about to say.
         He did care about the Vecchio's, he wanted to be there, spend Christmas with them. They were his family, as Ray said, blood relation or no, but he did not wish to upset Francesca. She was all he had thought about lately. He had gone over and over what he may have done to hurt her so badly that she no longer wanted to see him, but he could come up with nothing. However, each and every time he had politely snubbed her advances seemed to replay through his mind, and he worried that she had finally just accepted he was a lost cause and decided to forgo any further contact.
         "Benny," Ray inquired softly.
         It was the third time he had called to his partner, who was looking very lost and far away. He was well aware of Fraser's feelings of helplessness since his sister's accident, mostly because Frannie would not allow the Mountie to even see her. Now it seemed his partner had come up with a solution: leaving Chicago.
         "I...I'm sorry Ray, did you say something," Fraser finally answered.
         "Cancel yer plans, Fraser," Ray encouraged. "Come to Christmas dinner, please. I think it will help straighten out dis thing between you and my sister."
         "I don't wish to make her uncomfortable, Ray," Fraser insisted, then under his breath, "I've hurt her enough." Ray had caught the discrete mutter but decided not to comment. There was something between then, whether Fraser admitted it or not. Now that Ray knew, he had to act fast.
         "Okay then," he agreed. "Will ya at least come to dinner tonight, see how dat goes?"
         "I really prefer not to, Ray," Fraser replied automatically.
         "Do you care about Frannie at all, Benny," Ray challenged and watched his friend's surprised gaze finally meet his directly.
         "What do you mean, Ray," he countered confused.
         "How do you feel about my sister?"
         Ray really didn't expect the Mountie to tell him outright. Fraser could skirt the issue and play dumb better then anyone he knew, and in all honesty it was making Ray slightly nauseous to be asking. He really didn't want to know if there was anything between Fraser and Frannie. She was his baby sister, and it was hard for him to admit anyone was good enough for her.
          He had honestly thought Frannie's infatuation was just like all the other women's reactions to his partner's good looks and charm, but it seemed Francesca did feel something deeper. Her happiness was all Ray really cared about, so he would have to bite the bullet.
         "I...I am unsure what you are asking, Ray," Fraser finally stammered and got that Deer-In-The-Headlights look Frannie was so fond of pointing out.
         "You want her to get well don't you," Ray insisted.
         "Of course!"
         "Then listen to me and come to dinner. It will help."
         "She doesn't wish to see me, Ray," Fraser reminded quietly. "You heard her say..."
         "A lot's happened since den," Ray dismissed. "I don't think Frannie even knows what she wants anymore. She's hurt and confused and missing Ma and blaming herself. I need yer help Benny. We have ta get her outta dat pit she's climbed into."
         "How, Ray," Fraser questioned. "I want to help in any way that I can, but if she wishes no contact with me, won't my helping only be hurting her further?"
         "Trust me on this one, Benny," Ray suggested as he finished his breakfast and tossed some bills on the table. "Com'ahn, since yer off, let's go do some crime fighting."
         "That sounds like a good idea, Ray," Fraser replied gratefully and grabbed his Stetson from the seat.

 
          Ray pulled into his driveway and shut off the engine, then glanced at his silent partner, who sat rigidly in the seat and looked as though he was about to face a shooting gallery rather than a family dinner. Ray had called Maria to let her know he was bringing the Mountie home, and Andrew decided to forgo the trip to the station, instead meeting Fraser when they arrived.
         "We're here, Benny," Ray offered softly, startling his friend back from whatever place Fraser's thoughts had carried him to.
         "Oh, yes, so we are," Fraser returned quietly as Ray opened the door and got out. Fraser hesitated only a moment before doing the same, holding the seat forward for Dief, before shutting the passenger door. He didn't move away from the vehicle, just stood there stiffly and fiddled with the Stetson in his hands.
         "Benny," Ray encouraged, tossing an arm around him affectionately. "I want to tell ya somethin' before we go in."
         "Yes Ray," Fraser agreed, relishing the support of his friend's arm and meeting Ray's gaze, eager to postpone entering the house.
         "Ya know I love you as a brother, right?"
         "And I you, Ray," Fraser concurred honestly, with a small smile
         "Well, I...I just want ya to know..." Ray hesitated, searching for the right words and hoping that just once Fraser would catch on to the subtlety, and the detective wouldn't have to spell it out for him. "Nothin' would make me happier if ya were... y'know...really my brother, a part of my family."
         "You mean if we were blood related, Ray," Fraser questioned and Ray sighed, okay, so much for subtlety
         "Well, okay, dat would be cool too, but I was speakin' more in the way of...well, dere's all kinds of ways ta join a family, y'know?"
         "Are you saying you wish to adopt me, Ray," Fraser teased and Ray chuckled.
         "No ya moron I..." he shook his head. "Just remember, no matter what else I say or do, I love ya, okay? All the rest is just my Italian temper and miscellaneous frustration, it doesn't mean anything." Fraser stared at him for a long, confusing moment, then finally nodded.
         "All right, Ray," he returned, obviously still puzzled.
         "Good, let's go in." Ray decreed and Fraser was forced to follow.
         They stepped inside and Andrew came out of the kitchen to greet them. Ray quickly made the introductions as they hung up their coats and set Fraser's Stetson on the hall table, where it usually sat when the Mountie visited. They made small talk, and Andrew immediately put Fraser at ease by getting on the subject of his work in Africa.
         "Why don't you guys trade stories," Ray suggested as Andrew led Fraser into the living room. "I'm gonna go check on Frannie." Fraser stiffened slightly, but Andrew nodded approvingly.
         Ray knocked once on the door of Francesca's bedroom and waited until she called for him to answer. He stepped inside, glad that the lights were on. Probably Andrew's doing, so he could see his sister clearly. Usually she kept the room in darkness, since she could not see anything anyway. She was sitting in the chair that faced the window, still in her night clothes.
         "Hey Frannie," he greeted softly, closing the door and leaning against it. She rose and turned toward him, her face anxious. "How you feeling, honey?"
         "I...I should be mad at you," she managed quietly, fidgeting with her hair and her robe belt. "I told you not to call Andy."
         "I guess I didn't hear you," Ray returned easily and she almost smiled.
         "Do you ever," she shot and he moved to take hold of her hands.
         "Not enough, probably," he admitted gently as she tilted her face toward him, startled. "I...I thought it was the right thing to do and...it seems it might have helped a little?" She bowed her head shyly and nodded. "Good. Dat's good, Frannie. You know I'd never intentionally hurt ya." She nodded again.
         "I know," she agreed softly and Ray felt a gentle reprieve from his guilt. "I...Andy says I should talk to you, but...I don't know how."
         "Seems we have da same problem," Ray replied, again surprising her. "I don't know how ta talk to you either, Frannie, and I'm sorry fer that. I never...I never noticed how..." He caressed her cheek affectionately, despite the scar. "I never realized what a beautiful woman you've grown up to be, and I...I guess I just couldn't think of ya as anything but my baby sister."
         "I'm not a baby, Ray," she insisted indignantly and he chuckled.
         "I know...now," he allowed and she smiled again. "I'm sorry, Frannie."
         "For what," she asked, puzzled. Ray sighed and cupped her face, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
         "For not listening to you, for assuming you'd always be my responsibility and that I'd always know what was best fer ya. I don't, y'know. I'm makin' it up as I go along."
         Francesca stared at him with unseeing, tear filled eyes. It amazed him how he could still see all that fire and feeling in their depths, but they could not see him.
         "You were just bein' a brother," she soothed in a shaky voice. "I always liked dat ya wanted to protect me, but..."
         "I went too far," Ray finished grimly and she nodded slowly. "I can't promise ta stop worrying about ya, Frannie, or buttin' my nose into yer life when I think yer gonna get hurt, but...I promise ta be a little less obvious about it."
         "Ray..." she began biting her lip. "A...About Ma..." Ray hushed her and placed his thumb to her lips.
         "I know," he stated and her eyes grew wide as a tear of distress spilled out of one corner helplessly. "I heard part of what ya said to Andy." She started to sob and he pulled her to him. "Hush baby, it's okay. I don't blame you. I blame myself for not protecting you better."
         "Y...you couldn't help w...what happened...y...you can't protect me f...from accidents."
         "No, I know that," Ray agreed, continuing to hold her. "I meant protect you better from me, Frannie." He heard her gasp in surprised. "I should have protected you from my arrogance and my selfishness. I finally realized how rotten I've been to you, treating you like ya didn't have a brain in yer head and I'm so sorry, Frannie. I'm no better den Pop was."
        " No," Francesca refused, pulling back and reaching up to find his face with her hands, surprised to find it wet with his own tears. "Yer nothin' like Pop, Ray. He hurt us out of meanness and spite. You were doin' it out of love. You and me always fight, it's how we are, but I know you'd always be dere to protect me and let me cry on yer shoulder, Ray. I know you love me. Please don't think I don't love ya back just as much because yer mouth runs away wit ya sometimes."
         "I do love you," Ray whispered, folding his arms around her again, distressed to find her tiny frame so painfully thin. "I want things to be better again. Help me do that, Frannie. I'm da head of the family now, but I don't know what to do. Ya gotta help me. I need you ta tell me what I'm doin' wrong."
         "I'm sorry fer being such a bitch, for makin' things harder on you," she stated softly. "Will ya forgive me?"
         "If you'll forgive me," Ray returned huskily and she squeezed him harder.
          "Yer doin' everything right, bro," she whispered back, smiling even as her tears continued to run. "Yer doin' a great job. Ma'd be proud."
         It was what Ray needed to hear most and she held him tight as he released the anguish he had been holding inside for so long. His strong body was wracked with painful sobs and shaking uncontrollably. He'd been unable to let go of his grief, unable to cleanse himself of the guilt of not protecting his family, but Francesca seemed to understand and she knew how to fix it. Now they would both heal.
         After what seemed like hours, but was actually only a few minutes, they parted and tried to compose themselves.
         "I...Frannie, ya probably will hate me fer dis, but I...I brought Benny home to dinner," Ray admitted and he watched a measure of different emotions cross his sister's face, before she nodded.
         "O...Okay," she replied.
         "Are you gonna eat wit us," he requested, and she shook her head. "Frannie, please, he's nervous enough about being here."
         "Why?'"
         "He doesn't want to upset you," Ray stated. "He...I asked him about Christmas dinner, and ya know what he told me? He said he was takin' time off and goin' back ta canada fer da holidays."
         "So," Francesca demanded. "It is his home, Ray."
         "He doesn't want to go away and be alone fer Christmas, Frannie," Ray insisted. "I can see how lonely he is when I look at him and dere's no one fer him in Canada."
         "What does any of this have ta do wit me, Ray," she sighed.
         "Don't ya get it? He's leavin' because he doesn't want ta make me have ta chose between him and you. He knows I want him to spend Christmas with us, but he also knows you don't want him here. He's doin' it fer you, Frannie, so you won't be hurt."
         "What should it matter to him," she huffed and returned to her chair. Ray sighed and rounded to face her, leaning against the window. "I don't mean anything to him. You were right, I was just being a pest."
         "Frannie, I wasn't right, I was an idiot," Ray declared. "I didn't want you likin' Fraser dat way because he's my partner, and yer my sister. Anyway, I think part of da reason Benny hasn't accepted any of yer advances is because of me. He's really worried about you, sis. I see it in his face. He's seemed so lost the past couple of months. I think he misses you but is afraid to admit it."
         "Ray Vecchio, you had better not be playing with me," she demanded furiously, rising to her feet before him once again. "If you thought Fraser really was interested in me, you'd be doing everything to keep us apart. So, what's yer angle?"
         "I swear I don't have one," he insisted. "I was an idiot before. I told you dat. I just want you and Benny to be happy. I admit the idea that you both might need each other to do that gives me the shakes, but if it's what you want..."
         "Yer serious," she exclaimed shocked.
         "Give him a chance, Frannie. See where it leads and I promise not to get in the way, but don't punish yerself for something that you couldn't help."
         They stared at each other for a long time, then finally Frannie dropped back into her chair, resigned, and Ray sensed he had lost the battle.
         "Could you ask Maria to come in, please," she requested quietly and he sighed in defeat. No doubt Frannie would ask their sister to bring her meal to the room again. He shook his head disappointed.
         "Okay, Frannie," he agreed reluctantly and moved toward the door. "Whatever makes you happy."
 

         It was Christmas Eve and Ray had talked Fraser into staying in Chicago and celebrating the holidays with them. The Mountie had been reluctant to do so, since the last time he was at dinner, Francesca remained in her room and did not make an appearance. But between his partner, Andrew and Maria, he was roped into coming, despite his trepidation. It was the first big family meal they had attempted since the passing of Ma Vecchio, and though the kids and everyone seemed in good spirits, the emptiness was felt by all who loved the beloved woman.
         They decided to have their family dinner on Christmas Eve, instead of Christmas Day, because the family intended to spend the day visiting family and their mother's grave. Andrew, Tony and Fraser brought the dinner Maria and Andrew had cooked from the kitchen and Ray set it on the table, still unable to set foot in his mother's kitchen. Everyone understood that.
         Maria had disappeared some while ago into Francesca's room, perhaps to set up her sister's private meal, and Diefenbaker was trying to stay out of everyone's way. He settled close to the kitchen door in case anyone dropped something off the plates they were carrying.
         Finally almost everyone was seated about the table and trying not to notice the three empty chairs usually taken up by the women of the family. Ray had gone to Francesca's door to tell Maria they were ready to say grace, and was surprised when it opened and both his sisters stood waiting for him, dressed in their Christmas best.
         "Care to escort a lady to dinner, Brother dear," Francesca requested, knowing him by the scent of his cologne, as Maria grinned happily and headed off toward the dining room on her own. Ray placed her hand on his arm gently.
         "Are ya sure about this, Frannie," he offered softly, and she nodded.
         "I'm through with hiding," she declared, and he smiled and kissed her cheek.
         "Then let's go eat," he suggested and guided her into the dining room.
         He was sure she would laugh at all the startled, happy faces that were staring back at her as he guided her around the table, surprisingly toward his chair instead of hers on the other side. Fraser stood politely and Ray noticed his eyes never moved from Francesca's face.
         "Good evening, Francesca," he greeted with trepidation as he held out the chair for her, before exchanging a curious glance with his partner. He was rewarded with her brightest smile and couldn't help smiling back in relief.
         "Merry Christmas, Benton," she returned softly as she settled into her chair and Ray rounded to the other side.
     They got through dinner without mishap, though many eyes continued to flick toward the still empty chair where their Mother should be. Afterwards, when they started to clear things away, Francesca requested that Fraser sit with her on the porch outside. After retrieving their coats, the Mountie complied and they settled in the porch swing, Francesca staring off ahead but seeing nothing.
         "I...I'm sorry for being so mean to you, Frase," she offered kindly, startling him. He hadn't expected that. She had nothing to be sorry for. The Mountie understood her desire to only be tended to by her family. He could not fault her.
         "There is no need to apologize.." he began but she cut him off,
         "Does it disgust you," she demanded. She had to know the truth, and she knew he wouldn't lie to her.
         "Does...does what disgust me, Francesca," he countered, confused, and she reached for his hand to place it against her scarred cheek.
         "Me," she whispered, relieved that he didn't pull away as he usually did when she allowed herself contact with him. "My...my ugliness. My blindness." She heard his sharp intake of breath. "Please, be honest. You said you would never lie to me, Benton."
         "There is no need to lie," he assured gently, and she felt his thumb caress her flesh softly. "Did you really think I would be?"
         "I...you..." she shook her head, then nodded numbly. She was shocked when she felt his large hand grasp her other cheek, cradling her face tenderly.
         "Is that what this is all about? You were worried I wouldn't...that I would think of you as...damaged?" Again she nodded. "Oh Francesca, no. No, I do not think that at all. I am astounded by your courage. You have are a wonder to me that you have survived all that has happened." Francesca stared at him, shocked.
         "Y...you really mean that, don't you?"
         "I don't lie, Francesca," he reminded quietly and allowed his hands to drop to his lap, causing her to immediately miss their warmth.
         "I...I just...yer used to seeing me...well... attractive, sexy, alluring...at...at least I tried ta make you see me dat way." She bit her lip. "I...now I'm blind and all scarred up. Doesn't that bother you? The difference I mean?"
         Fraser was silent for a long time and she worried that she had put him on the spot. She knew he had difficulty discussing his feelings, but she had to know if Ray was right and all her attempts with him had not been thwarted by her accident. When he finally spoke, he was so quiet she almost had to strain to hear him.
         "My grandmother was a traveling librarian and occasionally taught school in some of the more isolated villages," he stated. "When I was nineteen, a fire threatened to destroy one of those villages. My grandmother was badly burned trying to save the children there. Occasionally we would meet people who would turn away from her, either in revulsion or sympathy, because of the scarring the burns had caused, but my grandmother never let it bother her. She never regretted her actions on that day. Her courage saved the lives of numerous children." He paused. "My grandmother was considered a handsome woman before the fire, but I...I always thought she was even more stunning afterwards, because she never allowed me to see anything but the beauty that was her."
         "Was...did your grandfather...was he upset," Francesca found herself asking.
         "My grandparents were not affectionate people, not the way you and your family are," he admitted. "However, I don't think it changed the way he looked at her, or felt about her." He reached up and touched her cheek again, tracing the scar. "Any more than this will not change how I see you, Francesca. How anyone will see you."
         "But I can't see," she protested. "Doesn't that bother you at all?"
         "I would give anything for you to have your sight back, Francesca," he offered kindly. "But whether you can see or not doesn't change who you are, not to me, and not to your family."
         "Ray thinks...Ray says that you...you were worried about me...upset because..." she broke off and bit her lip, but Fraser knew what she meant. He'd had a long time to think about what he would say to her if she ever gave him another chance.
         "I...I was concerned I had done something wrong, something to offend you," he allowed, and she shook her head.
         "No, it was me. I was just so afraid..." Again she shook her head, frustrated. "Please forgive me for hurting you, Benton. I didn't mean to do it." She shivered from the cold and he stood, pulling her with him.
         "Let's head inside before you catch a chill."
         "You didn't answer my question," she reminded but allowed him to guide her to the door.
         "There is no need for forgiveness, Francesca," he deflected promptly, pushing it open. "You did nothing wrong." He pushed a stray dark curl back from her face. "I assume then that we are...okay again? Back to normal?"
         "Depends," she returned bravely. "How can I chase you if I can't see you," she teased gently and he smiled.
         "I suppose I will just have to stop running then," he offered and she gasped in surprise.
         "Do...don't you...I mean what...you think we..."
         "I've missed you, Francesca," he whispered and leaned down to press his lips to hers in a soft kiss. "Merry Christmas."
         "W...why," she gaped at him in delight and shock.
         "You have mistletoe over your door," he commented as he ushered her inside and she blushed happily.
         "Hey Maria," Ray called, seeing them as he entered the hallway. "Benny's givin' away free kisses!"
         Fraser blushed as Maria hurried out and promptly demanded one, much to her husband's chagrin. Fraser dutifully bent and kissed her cheek and she blushed happily and walked away, threatening to never wash her face again.
         "Do I get one too," Andrew inquired wickedly and Francesca giggled as Ray grinned at his brother's boldness. He was shocked and slightly impressed when Fraser kissed Andrew's cheek as well and the younger man pretended to swoon.
         "Do you require one as well, Ray," Fraser taunted, since his partner had gotten him into this. Ray grinned and stuck out his hand.
         "Shake will do, Benny," he assured, and Fraser clasped his hand, fully prepared for the tug that drew him into the Italian's arms. "Thanks Benny, she looks radiant again." Fraser smiled and nodded as he took Francesca's hand and guided her toward the living room.
         Ray headed automatically for the dining room to tell Maria to hurry up with their coffee, but Maria wasn't there. He stopped at the doorway and stared at the tray his sister had set on the table, then forgotten. He looked around the darkened kitchen. Once again that feeling of dread crawled up his spine and he tried to shake it away. He knew the coffee would get cold if he didn't bring it in, but he couldn't make himself step across the linoleum.
         "Such fine, strong young men I have to take care of me and my children." His mother's voice seemed to whisper around him, reminding him of his failure to protect him. God Ma, I'm so sorry, he cried silently. I'm sorry I didn't protect you. "Enough of this nonsense. Tend to your guests, Raimundo." I can't Ma, I can't take that first step. I can't stop wishing you were here. "I am here, caro. I am always here, my darling. I have earned my rest and you have earned your place as head of our family. You make me so proud, Raimundo. Your Mama loves you so much."
         "I love you, Ma," he whispered and started to turn away,
         He suddenly heard her voice again, sharply calling his name. He turned back automatically. His eyes filled with tears as his mother appeared before him, her arms held out invitingly.
         "No goodbye kiss for your Mama," she demanded, her eyes twinkling in merriment.
         Out of habit, Ray stepped into her embrace dutifully and kissed her cheek. He felt her arms hug him tight, then suddenly he was alone in the middle of the kitchen and she was gone. He glanced around, dazed, wondering if he was finally going over the edge, and then he looked down at himself.
         He raised his left hand shakily and watched the light from the hall catch on the small gold and onyx ring wrapped round his pinky. It had been his father's, passed down from three generations. When Joe Vecchio died, Mrs. Vecchio had taken to wearing it as head of the family.
         Ma always teased Ray that she would give it to him, but only when he was grown up enough to accept the responsibility of caring for their family. It was a secret joke between them, for Ray had long since taken over the finances and other aspects of the Vecchio household, though Ma was still in charge.
         He had forgotten about it until now. Yet here it was on his finger and he didn't remember ever putting it there. As far as he knew, his mother had been buried with it. He felt the warmth of her arms once again and released a soft cry, as he tightened his fist over the ring.
         "Arrivedercie, Mamma," he whispered as a single tear slid from his eye, even as he smiled. "Resto bene."
 

The end
 
visit my WEB page