Due South and all of its characters are the property of Alliance Communications.

A follow up story to SEEING DOUBLE (My thanks to Katherine for all her help).

Views good or bad to Linda@hamgdns.freeserve.uk.co

SOLITARY VISION

by Linda Hughes

Stanley Raymond Kowalski woke with a small cry. Sitting up he glanced wildly around the room. He was breathing heavily, and his t-shirt was soaked in sweat. Gradually his confusion ebbed away, and running his hand through his blonde hair, he got out of bed making his way through to the kitchen. He knew from recent experience that he wouldn't be able to sleep again so decided to make himself a cup of coffee. He added a handful of smarties into the warm drink, and headed for the couch. Sitting down, he crossed his legs under him, and flicked on the television. Distractedly, he flipped through the channels looking for something to watch. He gave up finally leaping off the sofa, starting to pace the living room. He couldn't get the images out of his mind; he didn't want to admit it but they frightened him.

Shaking his head, he leaned down to pick up his coffee. In the dim light, he caught sight of his wrists; the pinkish scars showing where the manacles had dug in as he struggled in the cellar, a prisoner of the twin brother he never knew he had. "Jeez, Kowalski you're becoming as unhinged as Fraser. Forget it. He's dead," he thought slumping down onto the couch once again. "Go get a shower Kowalski," he decided.

He stood under the shower allowing the hot spray to pound his body. Eyes closed, he raised his face towards the spray trying to wash away the disturbing images of his dream. Reluctantly he turned off the water, stepping out of the shower. Pulling on his towelling robe, he stood in front of the misted mirror. Reaching forward, he wiped at the damp mirror until he revealed his reflection. "Who the hell are you looking at?" he asked aloud as he traced his face's outline with his finger. Tearing his gaze away from the reflection. "If only I knew," he thought miserably.

He left the bathroom slamming the door. Restlessly, he glanced around his apartment, his eyes resting on the kitchen counter where his journal lay. He had forgotten all about the journal until Daniel had reminded him about it. In a desperate moment after the divorce, he had consulted a police counsellor who had suggested that writing down his thoughts would help him come to terms with his unhappiness. He had been cynical at first, but had found that writing down his inner most thoughts and fears had helped him overcome some of his misery and guilt at the failure of his marriage. He flicked through the pages; the journal ended the day before he had taken up his new assignment posing as Raymond Vecchio. Sitting on a bar stool, he found a pencil and began to write.

***************

It was 7.30 a.m. when he sauntered into the squad room heading over to the corner. Slumping down in the chair, he stared at the pile of files littering his desk. Sighing, he opened the top one and started to read. After he had read the first paragraph four times, he gave up and tossed the file back on the desk. He stared distractedly at the desk, his hand moving to pick up the photograph of his parents. His stomach lurched; he couldn't get used to the fact that they were no longer here. He fingered their smiling faces. "Why didn't you tell me. I'd have still have loved ya. Nothing would have changed that," he thought miserably to himself.

"Morning Ray," Francesca sat on the corner of his desk. Ray continued to stare at the picture. "Earth to Vecchio," she raised her voice slightly.

Startled out of his reverie, Ray dropped the frame to the floor the glass cracking across the middle of the photograph. "Frannie," Ray shouted kneeling to pick up the frame.

"Oh Ray, I'm so sorry," Francesca apologised. "Here let me help you," she started to kneel.

"No Frannie. Just go away. Leave it," Ray pushed her away. Francesca hesitated but seeing the look on Ray's face decided to retreat to her desk. Ray gathered up the frame, carefully setting it back on the desk next to the photograph of his new family - Dief, Fraser and himself - taken outside the Canadian Consulate by Constable Turnbull. Even looking at this picture didn't cheer him up, a dull ache inside threatened to overwhelm him.

Silently chastising himself, he turned back to the files on his desk.

"Ray," Francesca said uncertain of his reaction.

Ray looked up from his scribblings. "Yeh Frannie. What is it?"

"This address just came in from Central Records for you," she announced.

"Oh thanks Frannie," he smiled lightly taking the offered slip of paper. Francesca turned to walk to her desk. "Frannie, sorry bout earlier. Just being a jerk."

"Don't worry bro. I understand," she smiled.

Returning his attention to the file he was working on. "You can't understand. No-one can," he thought to himself. He suddenly remembered the piece of paper, and quickly transferred the address to his notebook which he slipped into his jacket pocket.

The squad room slowly started to fill up with detectives as they started their day shifts. Huey and Dewey arrived to start their shift at 9.00 a.m. They were playing catch with a newspaper rolled up into a ball.

Seeing Ray working quietly in the corner Dewey winked at his partner. "Hey Vecchio catch," he shouted as he launched the ball at Ray's desk. Ray glanced up as the makeshift ball hit his desk knocking over both photograph frames. "Oops, sorry," Dewey apologised running forward to retrieve the ball. Ray's blue eyes flashed in anger as he righted the frames. He stood up leaning on the desk his face close to Dewey's.

"Grow up Dewey can't you," he whispered angrily.

"Touchy, touchy. It's only a photograph of you, Red and the damn dog," Dewey snatched the photograph of the desk. "It's not even a good one. Hey Jack what do you think?" he danced out of Ray's effort to grab the picture back.

"Give it back now," Ray threatened. Huey saw the look on Ray's face; he had seen it many times before, and moved towards his partner.

"Cmon Tom. Give Ray his photograph back," he tried to persuade his partner. Dewey, however, was in a playful mood, and danced around the squad room with the picture held high. Ray was barely containing his anger, standing with hands balled into fists, glaring dangerously at the detective. Dewey finished dancing around the room, and came level with Ray offering him the frame. Snatching the frame, Ray turned back towards his desk.

"Oh Ray, you are no fun at all," Dewey complained. "I wish the other guy was back. You know the one that looked liked you, but was more fun." Huey groaned sinking down into his chair. Ray froze, his back to Dewey. Placing the frame down on his desk, he picked up his jacket and walked towards Dewey who was now sitting at his desk. Ray reached forward grabbing his tie, bringing the dark haired detective close to his face, his blue eyes boring into him. "He's not coming back. Didn't you hear, he blew his face away? I saw him do it. So yer stuck with me," he said quietly. Before Dewey could offer a reply, Ray turned walking out of the squad room nearly hitting Fraser with the door as he slammed out.

Fraser started to follow his partner down the corridor, Dief at his heels. "Ray," he called.

Ray waved his hand in the air. "Leave me alone Fraser."

Fraser caught up with his blonde haired partner as he was leaving the building. "Ray. Are you alright?" he asked putting his hand on Ray's shoulder. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Ray faced his partner. "No Frase. I'm good. Dewey was just being a jerk as usual. You know me, Mr. Over-reaction." He shrugged dropping his eyes to study his feet. "Look I just need to be on my own for a bit. OK?"

For some inexplicable reason, Fraser didn't want to leave his partner alone. His partner's blue eyes couldn't conceal the hidden pain. Fraser knew Ray well enough to know that his partner would tell him what really was wrong when he was ready. "Understood," Fraser replied reluctantly. "I'm sure Dief would appreciate a change of scenery," he offered hopefully. Dief barked in agreement.

Ray appeared to consider for a moment. "OK, come on Dief." Ray said as he unlocked the door to the GTO tipping the seat for the wolf to jump into the back seat. "I'll drop him off later," Ray called as he slipped into the driver's seat. Fraser watched the sleek black car screech out of the parking lot into the busy morning traffic. He decided to talk to Francesca; she would know what had happened to upset his partner.

Fraser walked back into the precinct building. He found Francesca in the coffee room. He noticed that she was still reading the book entitled Sword of Desire. "Oh dear," he thought to himself. Steeling himself against her flirting, he called "Good morning Francesca."

Putting the book down, she immediately grinned seductively. "Hiya Fraser," she patted the seat by her. "Why don't you park it here?"

"Thank you kindly Francesca," he said sitting down.

She moved closer, brushing his knee, "What can I do for you Fraser?"

He looked sideways nervously pulling at his collar. "Well I was wondering if you knew what had upset Ray today," he asked.

Francesca seemed disappointed. "Oh that. You know Mr. Hothead. First he shouted at me, then Dewey teased him, and he slammed out. God, he's worse than my real brother. He could almost be Italian."

Fraser smiled to himself at this statement. Ray Kowalski was nothing like Ray Vecchio. He was volatile, unpredictable, stubborn and instinctive. But Fraser had learned that Ray was also vulnerable, self doubting and sensitive. An intriguing combination reminding Fraser of a cactus - prickly on the outside and soft on the inside. Why," Fraser started to say.

"Why what?" Francesca interrupted picking up her book again.

"Why did he shout at you?" Fraser asked.

"I made him jump and he dropped the picture of his parents. He wouldn't let me touch it. But it was accident Fraser. I didn't do it on purpose," she replied.

"I am sure Ray knows that it was an accident," Fraser reassured.

"Yeh, well he did say sorry later when I gave him the address. Then Jack and Tom were fooling around, and Dewey wouldn't give Ray back his picture. Men are such babies," she complained. "Well except for you Fraser."

Fraser coughed nervously, "Well it wasn't very kind of Detective Dewey to take the picture of Ray's parents. He is still very upset at their death."

"What. Oh no, it wasn't that picture, it was the new one," she looked at Fraser's puzzled expression. "You know. The one of you, him and Dief that Constable Turnbull took."

"Oh yes. I see. Thank you kindly for your help Francesca," Fraser returned.

"My pleasure," she purred returning to her book as Fraser rose and moved towards the door.

Fraser entered the squad room, nodding a greeting to Detectives Dewey and Huey as he made his way over to Ray's desk. Putting his hat on the corner of the desk, he sat down surveying the untidy pile of files. "How can someone work in such a disorganised mess," he thought to himself. He glanced over at the photographs that seemed to have caused so much disruption that morning. He smiled slightly picking up the picture showing himself, Dief and Ray standing on the steps of the Consulate. Fraser remembered that it had been taken a few days before Ray's parents had been killed in the traffic accident. Ray had been truly happy that day, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he had teased Fraser about smiling for the camera. Carefully placing the picture back on the desk, he turned his attention back to the files intending to help Ray in his never ending battle against paperwork. Moving the top file, a slip of paper fell to the floor. Reaching to pick up the paper, Fraser couldn't help but notice the name and address written in Francesca's untidy handwriting. "Oh dear," he thought.

**************

Ray pulled up outside the house. He sat staring at the large two storey house surrounded by a thick green hedge. He didn't really remember the house; he had been in too much pain and suffering from the shock of seeing a mirror image of himself shoot his face off. Fraser had retrieved his cell phone from Daniel's body, calling the paramedics and police, and then had carried him out of the house staying with him until help arrived. After that events had been a blur, and he had woken up in hospital with Fraser at his side.

He dropped his head down onto the top of the steering wheel. He had to do this, needed to do this, but he couldn't bring himself to open the car door. Dief had managed to jump into the passenger seat and gently nudged Ray's arm in comfort. The detective lifted his head and ruffled the wolf's head. " Gotta do this. Stay here," he slid reluctantly out of the GTO. Changing his mind he turned back to the wolf opening the door, "Cmon on Dief." The wolf barked happily and danced alongside the slender detective as he made his way up to the garden gate. Taking a deep breath, Ray opened the gate and walked up towards the front door. He ran up the porch steps, pausing before he knocked. Hearing the sound of footsteps coming towards him, he started to retreat down the steps as panic gripped him. He was at the bottom of the steps when the door opened revealing a middle-aged woman with long dark hair and green eyes. "Hello," the woman called. Ray froze. "Hello. I am so sorry I took so long to answer the door," the woman persisted. Ray turned to look at the woman. At the sight of him, her face paled and she grabbed the door frame for support.

Without hesitation, Ray bounded up the steps taking her hand and leading her back into the hall. He hesitated and she waved him to one of the two sitting rooms. Settling her in a chair, he stood back. "I'm sorry. I should have called first. I'll go," he started towards the door.

"No. Please stay," the woman insisted. "I'm the one who should be sorry. It's just a bit of a shock. I didn't really think that you would look so like him. Please sit," she indicated a chair opposite her. "Please."

Ray took the offered chair, Dief lying at his feet. He absently stroked the wolf's head feeling uncomfortable under the woman's stare. Ray had so many questions to ask her, but for the moment, he couldn't think of one thing to say.

"I should introduce myself. I'm Daniel's aunt, Lydia McIntyre," she extended her hand to Ray.

Ray gently shook the offered hand, "Stanley Raymond Kowalski."

"The police told me what had happened here. I am so sorry for what Daniel did to you," Lydia noted that Ray shivered slightly. She leant forward putting a hand on his knee, "This must be very difficult for you. Coming here. But there's nothing to be afraid of."

"Yeh, it is. But I had to come. Don't really know why," he stammered.

"I understand," she stated simply. "I'm here because Daniel's father Bryn was my older brother. When Daniel ki.... died, everything came to me as his only living relative. I've decided to sell the house. It's full of sadness and pain. I'm just packing a few personal things up before the house clearers arrive tomorrow."

Ray studied his feet. "What was..... what was he like?" he asked quietly.

Lydia smiled sadly. "Daniel was clever and intelligent, and always kind and loving to me. But he was a troublesome child, always getting into mischief. Even as he grew into a young man, trouble was attracted to him. He was a restless soul. His parents loved him, but they didn't really understand him."

Ray looked up surprised, "But he told me that his father beat him and chained him up in the cellar."

A look of sadness flashed across the woman's green eyes, "Yes, Bryn was not an easy man. What about you?" Lydia asked changing the subject. "Did you have a happy childhood?"

"Yes, my parents were great. Got an elder brother Paul who lives with his family in Geneva. My life is just great," he babbled looking at Dief avoiding Lydia's gaze.

Lydia didn't fail to notice the flicker of pain that showed in the young man's clear blue eyes, reminding her so much of her nephew. "I see," she said.

Ray sighed, "Well, sorta. I did have a great childhood. It's just ..... well it's just now that sucks. My Dad hated it when I dropped out of college to go to the police academy. We just kinda stopped talking. Mum was always there, but it wasn't the same. We had just started to talk again, and things were just getting better when they were killed in a car accident last month. And my brother..... well he hates me cos he thinks I took their love away from him. And I've got an ex-wife who takes every opportunity to make me look stupid."

"So you are alone?" she gently asked

Dief raised his head and woofed. Ray smiled. "Not really. I've got Dief and my best friend Fraser. We kinda decided to be each other's family so we wouldn't be lonely," he explained.

"Go on," she encouraged.

"I don't understand. That's it," Ray looked at the woman confused.

"Why did you come here?" Lydia asked.

"To find out about him. Now I know. I should go," he stood up. "You have been very helpful. Thanks." Dief followed him to the door.

"Don't you want to know why he wanted so much to be you," Lydia asked softly. "Isn't that why you really came here today?"

Ray swung round. "I.... I don't really know. I want to understand," he answered tears stinging at his eyes. Lydia got up took his hand, and lead him to the couch.

She sat down next to him, not releasing his hand.

"Daniel was my nephew and I loved him. It is very hard for me to believe that he could be cruel, but I think I understand why."

"You do," Ray looked into her kind green eyes.

Lydia returned the stare and squeezed Ray's hand reassuringly. "My brother wasn't always so cruel. He was a lovely man, but that all changed when Beth died...."

"Beth," Ray interrupted.

"Beth was Daniel's elder sister. She died of leukaemia when she was twelve. Daniel was seven. My sister-in-law, Anna, was never the same again. She started drinking to dull the pain. It killed her in the end. Bryn took all his anger and grief out on Daniel. I begged him to get help, but he refused. The beatings just continued. Daniel used to seek refuge at my house. I tried to give him the love he yearned for.

But I saw him change from a happy young boy to one haunted by hate and fear," she explained sadly.

"Oh," Ray muttered.

"When his father taunted him with the fact that he had a twin brother, he became obsessed with finding you. I think, in the beginning, he wanted to get to know you. But as the years passed, his obsession turned into hate. He wanted to be you. As if becoming you would wipe away all his pain and misery."

"How do you know all this," Ray asked puzzled.

Lydia looked guiltily at the blonde detective. "I saw his obsession grow. I always hoped that he wouldn't find you. He never told me that he had. If I'd known, I may have been able to stop him hurting you."

"Maybe," Ray murmured.

"I am so sorry for the pain he has.... is causing you," she apologised.

"Nah, don't be. It's OK. It's not yer fault. I'm getting kinda used to it," he muttered.

"No-one, not even my nephew, deserves to suffer pain and hurt. And you most definitely should not get used to it," she scolded gently.

Ray turned to face her. "He said he had read my journal, and that he had been watching me for weeks. He would have known my life sucked. I don't understand why he wanted to be me. I don't want to be me sometimes," he choked.

"I'm afraid we will never know the answer to that now Daniel is dead. He obviously saw something in your life that he wanted desperately. Only you will know what that is," Lydia soothed.

"I can't even begin to imagine what it would be," he cried.

Lydia stood up, moving over to a large ornate dresser. Opening a drawer, she removed a shoe box. She sat back down next to Ray. "Perhaps, this will help you find an answer. I found it amongst Daniel's things, " she handed Ray the box.

Resisting the temptation to open the box, Ray stood up extending his hand towards Lydia, "I've taken up too much of yer time. Thanks for talking to me. I really appreciate it."

Standing, she grasped his hand. "It was my pleasure. I hope you find what you are looking for," she indicated the box under his arm.

"So do I," Ray replied.

**************

Fraser stepped out from his hiding place as the GTO headed back towards the city. He shivered slightly as he remembered the last time he had been here. He had found Ray a prisoner of a twin brother he didn't know he had, chained up in the cellar alone and afraid. Daniel had nearly killed them both, but had ended up shooting himself in the head. Ray hadn't wanted to talk about the episode choosing, as usual, to bury it deep within himself. Fraser had respected his wishes, but he could see the pain lurking beneath the bright blue eyes. Fraser had been alarmed when he recognised the address on the slip of paper deciding to follow Ray to offer assistance if needed. He had watched Ray leave the house, kissing the older woman lightly on the cheek. Relieved that Ray appeared to be alright, he walked back to the waiting taxi, and instructed the driver to take him back to the Consulate.

**************

Later that afternoon, Fraser strolled into the 27^th precinct building. He smiled as he entered the squad room and headed for Ray's desk. His partner was surrounded by files busily scribbling, a cup of coffee precariously balanced on a second pile of files. Dief lay over his feet under the desk asleep.

"Good afternoon Ray," he sat in his usual chair balancing his hat on his knees.

Ray looked up smiling. "Hiya Fraser. Where you been?"

"Inspector Thatcher needed me to run some errands for her," Fraser admitted reluctantly knowing his partner's feelings towards the Inspector and him running errands for her.

Ray leaned back in his chair narrowing his eyes at the Mountie. "You know Fraser you really ought to tell her to run her own errands. Yer just too good to be the Ice Queen's errand boy."

"I don't mind Ray," Fraser shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Can I help you with your paperwork? You seem to be a little snowed under," he indicated the array of papers, quickly changing the subject.

"Nah Fraser. I'm OK. But thanks for the offer," Ray replied.

"Ray are you alright?" Fraser asked noticing for the first time the dark lines under his partner's eyes.

Avoiding the question, Ray jumped to his feet. "Coffee?" Dief growled lightly in complaint at being woken, but trotted after Ray as he headed towards the coffee room. Fraser sighed and followed his two friends.

Fraser sat down at one of the tables while Ray fetched two cups of steaming coffee.

"Here you go Frase," Ray handed him one of the cups sitting down opposite the Mountie. Fraser noticed that Dief had once again settled himself across Ray's feet. Ray stared into his coffee, lost in thought.

"Ray are sure you are alright?" Fraser persisted tapping Ray on the arm to get his attention.

Ray looked up at his friend's concerned face. "Yeh Frase, I'm good," he replied staring into his coffee again. "I'm just...... well you know," he stammered.

"No I don't know. Tell me Ray. Talk to me. I'll try to help," Fraser said gently.

"I....," Ray started but was interrupted by a loud shout from the hallway. Jumping to his feet, Ray headed towards the door, Dief close on his heels. Cursing silently to himself, Fraser rose following the detective out of the door. Dewey was in the corridor wrestling with a large thick set man. The man was screaming at the top of his voice, "Let me go pig. I didn't do it." Fraser could see that the man was not handcuffed; Dewey was trying to lock his arms behind his back to restrain him.

Dewey snarled, "We got witnesses Maguire. Just be nice, and I won't hurt you." The dark haired detective looked towards Fraser and Ray silently asking for their assistance.

Dewey yelped as Maguire stamped on his foot, managing to struggle free. Maguire charged down the corridor towards the two partners. Ray grabbed for the man as he ran past. Seizing Ray roughly Maguire slammed him hard against the opposite wall causing the slim detective to cry out in pain. A wave of dizziness washed over Ray as Maguire smashed his head against the wall. As Ray slipped down the wall to the floor, Maguire headed down the corridor towards the stairs with Fraser in pursuit, Dief at his heels. Maguire hesitated at the top of the stairs noticing that there were a group of uniformed police officers at the bottom. He retreated back along the corridor desperately looking for another means of escape. Turning a corner, he was hit hard in the chest by Dief who seizing his opportunity launched himself at the man, knocking him to the floor. Stunned momentarily, Maguire lay on the floor trying to catch his breath. Fraser, Dewey and Huey caught up to Dief as he snarled in the man's ear as he tried to sit up.

"Dief," Fraser signalled as Dewey and Huey hauled Maguire to his feet.

"Thanks Fraser," Dewey puffed. Huey was putting his handcuffs around the large man's wrists.

"You are most welcome. But in future, I would suggest that you handcuff your suspects," Fraser advised calmly. Huey glared at his partner.

"Yeh right Constable ," Dewey scowled at Fraser.

Fraser could hear Huey chastising his partner as they dragged Maguire towards the interview room, "You didn't handcuff him. Oh man, you suck big time. Wait till Welsh hears. He's going have your head."

Dief whined; it was only then that Fraser noticed that he hadn't seen his partner since leaving the coffee room. "Ray," he thought with dread as he ran back towards the coffee room.

Francesca was kneeling on the floor at Ray's side. She looked up as Fraser knelt down. "I've called an ambulance. Oh Frase, I didn't dare move him. His arm's in a funny position," she whispered concern on her face.

Ray was laying on his back his right arm twisted underneath him. He had his eyes tightly closed, his face was deathly pale. Ray tried to shift position crying out in pain. "Ray," Fraser soothed taking his left hand. "Try not to move. Stay still for a change. An ambulance is on its way."

Tears of pain escaped from the corners of Ray's eyes. "Frase. Did you get him?" he asked opening his eyes.

Fraser squeezed his hand, wiping the tears away with his free hand. "Yes Ray, we did."

"Good," Ray grimaced biting his bottom lip, closing his eyes again.

**************

Fraser sat patiently in the reception area of the hospital. The paramedics had arrived efficiently preparing his partner for transport to the E.R. Moving Ray had caused him great distress, and he had passed out as they lifted him onto the stretcher. Fraser had insisted on accompanying his partner to the hospital in the ambulance. Ray had remained unconscious, and Fraser feeling helpless had continued to hold his partner's hand finding a degree of comfort in the gesture.

"Fraser," a voice called.

He looked up to see Dewey and Huey standing in front of him. "How's Vecchio doing?" Huey asked.

"He's being seen at the moment," Fraser replied levelling his gaze at Dewey. The dark haired detective looked uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot.

"Uhhh, look Fraser. I'm sorry I didn't handcuff the guy. Tell Vecchio I didn't mean for him to get hurt," he confessed.

"I'm sure Ray knows that you didn't mean him any harm," Fraser replied staring at the detective. "It was an accident."

Finding Fraser's stare disconcerting, Dewey lowered his eyes. "Yeh I just bet he does," his voice full of doubt.

Fraser stood up. "I am sure if you spent more time getting to know Ray and less time tormenting him, you would know what kind of man he really is. I know he won't blame you."

Huey nodded, but Dewey still look unconvinced. "Yeh. Well tell Ve... Ray I'm sorry."

"Yes I will Detective Dewey," Fraser promised turning towards the doctor who was approaching the three men.

"Constable Fraser," the doctor directed his comments at the Mountie. "Detective Vecchio is asking for you. Come this way."

"We'll see you later Fraser," Huey said as he pulled Dewey towards the door of the E.R.

Fraser didn't acknowledge the detectives leaving; he was following the doctor towards a curtained cubicle. Ray sat on the examination bed, legs dangling over the edge; he was swinging them from side to side. His blue eyes were dull with pain, his face pale, apart from a bruise on his forehead where he had hit the wall. His right arm was supported in a sling, his shirt draped around his shoulder.

"Hiya Frase," he slurred focusing his gaze on his partner.

Fraser looked towards the doctor puzzled. The doctor smiled slightly. "Detective Vecchio had a dislocated right shoulder. We gave him a pretty strong pain killer before we re-aligned his shoulder," he explained.

"Frase. Tell em I don't want to stay here. Make em let me go," Ray whined.

"I advised Detective Vecchio to stay here for the night. He has a mild concussion. He said that you would stay with him if I discharged him," the doctor stated.

Fraser glanced at Ray; his eyes pleaded silently. "Of course, I will stay with Detective Vecchio. I promise I'll keep an eye on him," Fraser replied.

The doctor turned satisfied that his patient was in good hands. "Right. I'll just go and get some pain killers for him. He needs to come back in a couple a days for me to check his shoulder out. You need to wake him every two hours or so. Any problems, bring him straight back here." Fraser nodded, moving towards Ray who was trying to inch himself off the bed. He swayed slightly as his feet touched the floor, but Fraser supported his left side and helped him out of the cubicle.

"Thanks Frase."

**************

Fraser drove the GTO carefully to Ray's building. He half carried Ray up the stairs to the second floor, Dief close at his heels. Opening the door to Ray's apartment, Fraser helped Ray to the couch. The slender detective lay back closing his eyes. The pain killer was beginning to wear off, and his shoulder had begun to ache.

"Ray, Ray, Ray," Fraser gently called.

Ray opened his eyes looking at Fraser. "Frase," he mumbled closing them again as if the effort had been too much.

"I think you would be better off in bed," Fraser decided leaning down to pull his partner gently to his feet.

"Frase," Ray complained.

"Come on Ray," he encouraged his partner towards the bedroom. Sitting Ray on the edge of the bed, Fraser removed his boots and jeans. Carefully removing his shirt, he pushed Ray gently backwards onto the bed deciding to leave the sling in place. Ray winced in pain as his shoulder touched the bed. Fraser pumped up the pillows in an effort to support the injured shoulder, covering the duvet over his now sleeping friend. He found a blanket and pillow in the wardrobe, and returned to the living room placing them on the couch. Dief whined quietly. "Yes Dief. Ray's OK," he whispered. Trotting over to the bedroom, the wolf looked back at Fraser. "Oh alright. I'm sure Ray won't mind the company this one time," Fraser acknowledged. He went into the kitchen to make himself a drink. He smiled to himself when he found a packet of bark tea at the back of a cupboard. Rummaging around, he found a clean cup. Putting the kettle onto boil, he returned to the living room to make up the couch into a bed. After making his tea, he went to check on his friend. Ray was fast asleep, his left arm slung over Dief, who was lying close to the detective comforting. Turning off the apartment lights, with the exception of a lamp near the bedroom door, Fraser removed his jacket, neatly placing it on the back of a chair. Moving a shoe box from the armchair to the coffee table, he sat down sipping his tea.

**************

Ray thrashed from side to side, the intense pain in his shoulder waking him from the now familiar dream. He lay on his back taking deep breaths trying to calm himself, and ease the pain. Dief whined quietly. "It's OK Dief. I'm good," Ray soothed the wolf as he swung his legs out of bed. "Sshhh," he put his finger to his lips. "Just going to take a pain killer." Retrieving a pair of sweat pants from the floor, he clumsily pulled them on. He padded across to the bathroom, feeling his way to the basin. The pain in his shoulder was making his head spin. Turning on the tap, he bent his head splashing water onto his face with his left hand. He swayed slightly as he straightened up and braced himself against the basin. He froze as he glanced in the mirror, a cry of distress caught in his throat. His reflection stared back, but he couldn't make out the features; they were obscured by blood, bone and tissue. The ragged mouth was moving trying to speak. "Nooo," Ray screamed stepping back, turning his back on the mirror and hiding his face against the bathroom wall. "Go away. Please go away," he wailed.

Fraser was awoken by a shout from the bathroom. Entering the room, he saw Dief sitting close to Ray, his nose touching the back of Ray's knees. Ray was leaning against the wall, sobbing quietly, "Please go away."

"Ray," Fraser lightly touched his friend's shoulder.

Ray visibly jumped trying to get closer to the wall, "Make him go away Fraser. Make him go away," he sobbed.

Fraser looked around puzzled. "Make who go away Ray? There's no-one here but you, me and Dief. Look," he said gently pulling his partner around to face him.

Ray looked around embarrassment showing on his face. He dropped his head staring at his bare feet. "Sorry Frase," he whispered. Fraser noticed that his friend was shivering. Leading him back to the bedroom, he sat him down on the bed. Returning to the bathroom, he retrieved Ray's towelling robe. Ray was still trembling; Dief had snuggled close to the detective trying to warm him. Offering his partner the robe, he said, "Ray, let me help you with the sling."

"Nah Fraser. I'll be OK," Ray winced as he tried to remove the sling.

"Ray," Fraser scolded moving forward to help his partner take the sling off. Ray slipped awkwardly into the robe, flinching as he put his right arm into the sleeve. "Do you want the sling back on," Fraser asked.

"Nah. Feels better without it, Ray said standing up and moving towards the living room, Dief close at his heels. He held his right arm across his chest to support his shoulder. "Need a cup of coffee."

"Coffee will keep you awake," Fraser said.

Ray glared at him stubbornly, "Don't wanna go to sleep."

"Right, you sit down, I'll make it," Fraser offered. Ray started to protest, but Fraser beat him to the kitchen. Defeated, Ray slumped onto the couch. Dief curled up by the armchair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Fraser asked as he set two mugs down on the coffee table.

"No Fraser. No I do not want to talk about it. I was just being an ass," he snapped angrily.

"Understood," Fraser sat down in the armchair, trying to keep from sounding hurt at Ray's words.

Ray glanced sideways at his partner. "Sorry Frase. Didn't mean to snap," he admitted.

"It's quite alright Ray. I just wanted to help." Fraser said smiling at his partner.

"Yeh, I know. Thanks," Ray smiled back, although the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Fraser took a silent breath, "Can I ask you a question?"

Ray caught off guard by the question, nodded slowly. He turned his attention to staring at his coffee.

"Who did you think was in the bathroom? " Fraser asked gently.

Ray looked up from studying his coffee. "No-one. Must have been the painkillers making me act weird," he lied.

"Ahhh, of course," Fraser returned.

Ray jumped up wincing slightly as his sudden movement jolted his shoulder. "And what the hell does ahhh mean. God Fraser, can't you just leave me alone. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to tell you about the stupid dream. The one that makes me feel like a scared kid again." Ray started to pace the living room waving his good arm in the air, "And I don't want to feel like a scared kid."

"I....," Fraser started to say.

Ray whirled on him. "Don't say anything. Do not say anything," he snarled. "You want to know what I saw in the bathroom. Do you?" Ray didn't give Fraser a chance to reply. "I saw me in the mirror, but it wasn't me, it was him and he had no face." Ray stopped pacing slumping down on the couch. He leant forward putting his head on his left hand, "I don't know how to stop the dream," he whispered glancing at Fraser.

Fraser studied his partner, and moved to sit by him, placing a hand on his good shoulder. "Oh Ray. Why didn't you tell me? I would have helped," Fraser murmured.

"I couldn't tell anyone. I felt so stupid. Screw up Kowalski having freaky dreams about dark cellars and non-existent conversations with dead brothers," Ray muttered pulling away from Fraser.

"You could have told me," Fraser soothed putting his hand back on Ray's shoulder. "I would have listened. And I wouldn't have thought you were stupid. Tell me about the dream."

Ray narrowed his eyes at Fraser. "You won't think I'm stupid or laugh at me," he whispered uncertainty in his voice.

"No, of course not. I have never thought that you were stupid, and I never will," Fraser admitted squeezing his shoulder. "And I most certainly would not laugh at you."

Ray sighed deeply. "OK. It's always the same. I'm in the cellar again. I'm afraid cos it's dark and I'm alone. I am trying to get out, really trying," Ray unthinkingly rubbed at the pink marks on his right wrist. "I hear him come in but it's too dark and I can't see him. He starts talking to me, telling me he wants to be me, telling me he's gonna be me and that I can't stop him. Telling me I stole his life," Ray stopped glancing up at Fraser.

"Go on," Fraser encouraged.

"I try to tell him that my life's no prize. I try to tell that my life sucks. That it sucks so much that I spend my time pretending to be someone else. That makes him laugh. Then he steps outta of the shadows, and I can see his face, but.....," Ray started to tremble.

Fraser squeezed his shoulder gently again, "Go on Ray. I'm listening."

"I look at him but his face is gone. It's all mashed up. But he's still telling me that he wants to be me," Ray choked pulling away from Fraser and moving to stand near the window, staring out to the city. "I can't make the dream go away. I look in the mirror and see him. He won't go away. He won't leave me alone."

Fraser silently regarded his partner. He stood moving to stand behind his friend. "Ray. When you look in the mirror, you are seeing yourself. You are not seeing him. You are not him, and he was not you."

"Great help Frase. Funny it don't help," he croaked sarcastically staring stubbornly out of the window, his back firmly turned on Fraser.

"Perhaps this will," Fraser moved back to the table picking up the shoe box.

Ray glanced over his shoulder. "Nah I doubt it," Ray turned back to stare out the window.

"Have you looked inside?" Fraser persisted holding the box out towards his partner.

"Nah, don't want to. Don't want to know what's inside," Ray insisted.

"Oh I think you do. Maybe the dream will stop when you do know. I think that's the reason you went back to the house this morning," Fraser said quietly.

Ray turned shock on his face. "You spying on me Fraser? How could you?" he spluttered angrily.

Fraser continued to hold the box out to his partner. "Ray. I was worried. I am your friend. I followed you to make sure you were alright. It's as simple as that."

Ray's blue eyes flashed angrily as he moved towards Fraser. He swung his left hand forward swiping the box out of Fraser's hand. The box hit the wall, the contents falling to the floor. "I said no. No means no," Ray shouted glaring at Fraser.

Fraser calmly returned the stare not moving, his features remaining impassive. Ray's anger started to subside, tears stinging at his eyes. He dropped to his knees starting to gather up the fallen contents with his good hand. He went to grab the box, unthinking, with his right hand. He cried out in pain as his shoulder reminded him why he had been holding his arm across his chest. He leant his head on the coffee table breathing deeply trying to ease the pain.

"Here let me help you up," Fraser offered. Ray nodded, and Fraser helped him to his feet, settling him on the couch. He then gathered up the scattered papers, placing them in the box, putting the lid on firmly.

"Frase. I'm sorry," Ray murmured.

"Sorry for what Ray," Fraser asked sitting beside his friend. "You have no need to be sorry. I understand."

"Sorry for being such a screw up. Freaky dreams, faces in my mirror. Sorry for yelling at you when you're only trying to help," Ray stared at the shoe box on the table.

Fraser hesitated before saying, "Ray. I think you should look in the box. It may help. I'll go and take Dief for a walk so you can be alone," he offered getting up.

Ray pulled on his arm. "No Fraser stay. I need you to stay," he pleaded taking the lid off the box. Fraser nodded and sat back down on the couch quietly watching his partner.

Ray took a deep breath tipping the contents of the box out onto the coffee table.

Hesitating, he picked up a brown envelope pulling out several photographs. A black and white photograph showed two young girls laughing into the camera. The inscription on the back simply read: "Lydia and Jennifer - May 1959". He handed the photograph to Fraser, "Daniel's aunt I think. Don't know who Jennifer is," he said. Fraser nodded studying the picture. Ray turned his attention to the other photographs - baby photographs of Daniel he imagined. Discarding them on the table, he rummaged through the pile of papers: there were various newspaper clippings relating to the three citations he had received early in his career. He even found the newspaper announcement of his forthcoming marriage to Stella. There was a number of colour photographs, taken recently, of him at various places - the precinct, his apartment, the consulate. "Jeez," he mumbled under his breath picking up a small notebook. He flipped through the pages reading with growing horror the detailed descriptions of his movements for the last six months - his visits to his parents' house, the trips to the hockey games with Fraser, the fishing trip they'd taken, the time he and his father had spent working on the GTO. He shut the notebook, his skin crawling; Daniel had been watching him and recording every little detail of his life.

Fraser glanced sideways at this partner. He could see the distress in his partner's face as he picked up each item. His thin face had paled as he read a small notebook he had found. Daniel had obviously spent time collecting and recording as much as information as he could about Ray. He half wished he hadn't insisted that Ray open the box.

Ray threw the notebook on the table, turning his attention to a smaller envelope

addressed to Mrs. Anna McIntyre. He recognised the handwriting - it was his mother's. Hands trembling, he removed the letter from the envelope, a photograph falling to the floor. Retrieving the picture, he stared at a picture of himself as a toddler holding Paul's hand. He vaguely remembered it had been taken on his third birthday; his parents had taken his brother and him to the zoo as a treat. Hands shaking, he searched through the pile of envelopes finding six more written in his mother's hand. Opening each one, he removed the photographs putting them in age order. The first one taken on his first birthday, and the last taken on his seventh birthday. Shocked, he slumped back in the couch, closing his eyes.

Concerned Fraser touched his arm, "Ray, are you alright? Ray."

"I don't know," his partner muttered. "I don't know Frase."

"Ray, shall I put the box away?" Fraser offered.

Ray opened his eyes. Leaning forward he pointed at the photographs. "Look Fraser. My Mum.... my Mum knew I had a brother, and she never said anything," he croaked.

"I am sure she had a good reason," Fraser soothed.

"Oh yeh. I'm sure she did. They lied to me Fraser. I feel so.... so betrayed by them," he said harshly.

"Ray. I am sure they didn't mean to hurt you," Fraser replied.

"No. Then why didn't they tell me I was adopted, or that I had a brother. Now I can't ask them why they didn't," he choked.

"You could ask Paul. I think it is likely he knew that you were adopted. But I doubt he knew about Daniel," Fraser suggested.

"How do ya work that one out?" Ray asked frowning.

"From what I know of him, and that's not very much, I admit. However, I am quite certain he would have taken the opportunity at some point to taunt you about it," Fraser replied. Ray nodded slightly. "You could ask him about the adoption though," Fraser continued.

Ray snorted. "Yeh right. Paul has made it quite clear how he feels about me. I tried to call him last week. Do you wanna know what happened Frase?" Ray asked looking at his partner. Without waiting for a reply from Fraser he continued, "Well I'll tell ya. He wouldn't take my call. His secretary called me back saying he was busy." Looking away from his partner, Ray started to fiddle with the belt of his robe.

Fraser shifted position. "I am so sorry Ray. That seems unnecessarily cruel of him."

Ray shrugged. "Don't matter. We were never close. But it kinda hurt. Made me feel really alone. God, I hate them for dying, and leaving me alone."

"Ray. I'm sure you don't really mean that," Fraser admonished.

Ray jumped off the couch moving to the window to stare out at the city again. "Frase, I hate them for not telling me. Did they think their screw up of a son couldn't handle the truth? Did they really think that little of me? I hate them," he cried.

"Ray. Stop it. I am absolutely certain your parents loved you very much. Now stop it," Fraser's voice rose in anger.

Startled Ray turned to stare at his partner. Fraser's face was red with fury. "Ray you have been very lucky. You were adopted by people who chose you, who loved you. I know you had your ups and downs, but underneath it all they loved you. Daniel wasn't that lucky. He wanted to be you. I think he was jealous of your life." Fraser picked up the small notebook. "I think this proves it, don't you?"

"I don't know," Ray murmured biting his bottom lip.

Fraser cocked his head to one side, "Yes you do Ray. He documented all the good things about your life. He even collected newspaper clippings about you."

"But my life isn't a prize," Ray said miserably staring at his feet.

"To Daniel it was. He saw all the good things in your life. The things you refuse to see in yourself because you are too busy putting yourself down."

"But...,"Ray started to protest.

"Be quiet Ray. And listen to me for a change." Ray stared at his partner, his mouth open, too startled to speak. Fraser resisted the temptation to smirk. "I am sorry that you can't ask them. I truly wish you could, but you can't." He paused looking for the right words. "I'm afraid you will just have to come to terms with the fact that you may never know why."

Ray had sat down in the armchair, and was staring thoughtfully at Fraser, "Perhaps yer right." He rubbed his injured shoulder. "Ya usually are," he added.

"Ray, don't hate your parents for not telling you. Just remember they loved you. They came back to be near you." Fraser said gently.

"Yeh," Ray smiled faintly. Picking up the last photograph, "Why do you suppose Mum stopped writing when I was seven?"

Fraser was silent for a while picking up one of the envelopes. "They moved Ray." His blonde partner looked at him confused. "Look at the address. It's not the house you visited this morning. I think they moved, and your mother had no way of knowing where. I imagine your parents decided not to pursue it any further after that."

"Mmmm," Ray nodded lost in thought. "Yer right about that as well."

"Right about what Ray?" Fraser asked curious.

"That I'm not anything like him. I'm me, a bit screwy now and again, but me all the same," Ray concluded.

"Yes, you are most definitely you, I am glad to say," Fraser agreed.

"Yer a freak," Ray laughed lightly. "Frase, do you and Dief still want to be my family?" he asked shyly looking at his partner hopefully.

Fraser smiled, "Ray, you are one of the most irritating men I have ever met, but yes Dief and I would be honoured to be your family. If I remember rightly, I have told you this before. I can assure you that I was serious then and I am now."

Fraser paused, flushing slightly. "And we want you to be our family." Dief barked in agreement jumping up next to Ray snuggling close.

Ray stifled a yawn as he smiled back at Fraser, "Greatness. I think I'm gonna get some sleep. I don't think I'll have that dream again," he stood up moving towards the bedroom. "Thanks Frase. Night." Dief followed the slender detective.

"Goodnight Ray," Fraser called.

Ray appeared at the door again. "Frase, just so you know. I don't hate them. I love them, always did, always will," he stated.

"Understood," Fraser smiled.

THE END