The characters of Due South are the sole property of Alliance. I don't own the characters of Ray, Fraser or the Vecchio family. They are being used without permission (but I promise I'll put them back when I'm done) Christine and anyone else was a product of my twisted little mind and are mine to do with as I please. Please don't sue, I'm poor enough as it is.

Well ladies and gentlemen, here it is - the fourth part of my ongoing Ray/Christine saga. For those of you who have kept up so far, I really appreciate all of the comments I've received. Thank you. Oh, and for all you interested, this story is rated PG for some violence.

A big thanks to my AOL chat friends. You guys gave me some great inspiration for this. Thanks to my beta reader Nikki.

This story is for Sylvia. Keep writing, you're doing a great job!

Send all comments/flames/gorgeous Mounties and/or Chicago cops to Audrid@aol.com

Waiting for a Happy Ending


By: Melissa Roule

        The sterile confines of the small hospital were completely silent. The only noise was the sound of footsteps, pacing back and forth, back and forth. Their soft sounds breaking the silence that seemed to surround the hospital like a blanket.

        For what seemed like the millionth time that day, Ray Vecchio paced the tiny waiting room. He ran his hands over his face and scalp, trying to banish some of the weariness that threatened to break him. It had felt like ages since he had been lead to this waiting room, ages since he had heard word on Christine. All the nurse could say was that Chris was going in to surgery. No word on the outlook, no word on if she would even survive. Now all Ray could do was wait, agonize, and continue to pace.

        An hour later, Ray continued his pacing. It was the only thing keeping him awake now. As he turned to make another round of the waiting room, a far off set of footsteps joined his own. Ray slowed his pacing, listening as the steps came closer and closer.

        The footsteps grew louder and finally resolved into an older doctor. The man was dressed in green scrubs, right down to the booties covering his shoes. A look of fatigue was on the older man's features, but it was joined with a look of triumph.

        "Ray Vecchio?" the older man asked upon seeing Ray standing there.

        "Yes?" Ray answered.

        The doctor held out his hand, which Ray shook. "I'm Dr. Allen, I performed the surgery on Christine"

        Ray drew in a breath, almost expecting the worst. "How...how is she?" he finally managed to stammer out.

        "She's fine Mr. Vecchio," Dr. Allen smiled, "The surgery was a success. We managed to retrieve the bullet lodged in her back and were able to repair the damage. She's in her room now, resting."

        Ray let out a breath, he didn't even realize he had been holding it. He slumped slightly in relief, his shoulders hunching forward. For so many hours he had been strung tighter than a violin string, now that Christine was out of the woods he could relax.

        "Thank God" he whispered. In his waiting, Ray had said every prayer he knew, beseeching God to protect Christine. It had worked, a fact for which Ray was immensely grateful. "Can I see her?"

        Dr. Allen looked at the younger man before him before answering. He saw the concern reflected in his eyes. A nurse had told him that this young man was with Christine in the ambulance, refusing to leave her side. The blood on Ray's shirt confirmed that. Allen looked down, weighing his options. After a moment he looked up.

        "Yes" he turned and headed back down the hall. "Follow me"

        Ray followed the doctor in silence. It was late at the hospital and that silence enveloped everything. Passing closed door after closed door, the two men walked down the hall.

        When they finally reached Christine's room, Dr. Allen turned to Ray in front of the closed door.

        "Detective Vecchio, I know you are an intelligent man. And I know that you care for Miss Mercutio very deeply. So I need not emphasize to you how important it is that she get her rest and she not be upset in any way"

        "Upset?" Ray asked, "why would she get upset?"

        "Because..." Dr. Allen sighed wearily, "because there is a chance that the bullet combined with the swelling did irreparable damage to her spine. There's a chance she might not walk again"

        Ray felt all the blood drain from his face. He tried to say the words 'Never walk again' but his mouth wouldn't form them. All he could do was stand there, his mouth gaping, a look of total disbelief on his face.

        "I'm sorry," Dr. Allen said quietly, opening the hospital room door. "But there's nothing we can do now but wait."

        Ray walked into the small room. All was quiet but for the low and steady beep and murmur of machines. In the middle of all the contraptions was a bed, and there nestled among the blankets was Christine.

        Tubes and wires ran from her tiny form to connect with the machines surrounding her. Each one had a purpose, either monitoring her, giving her the fluids she needed or taking away the ones she didn't.

        Ray sat in the chair beside the bed, oblivious to the fact that Dr. Allen had left them alone. He took Christine's hand in his, careful not to dislodge the IV line. Brushing his fingers over her skin, he whispered soft words to her. His voice the only other sound in the room.

        After a moment, Ray felt the tears well in his eyes. They spilled down his cheeks, completely unbidden. He lowered his head as if in prayer, then looked up, gazing into Christine's face.

        "I'm sorry" he whispered, "so sorry..." The tears overtook him then. Laying his head beside Christine's still hand, Ray cried harder than he had ever cried before.

******

        Constable Benton Fraser walked down the silent hall, his boots thudding softly on the tile floor. Ahead of him, walking almost like a funeral procession, was Ray's family. Mrs. Vecchio, flanked by her two daughters, Maria and Francesca and her son-in-law Tony. The three women all walked straight and tall but would occasionally dab a handkerchief at their eyes. Fraser understood these actions. They were all upset and they had every right to be that way. He himself felt a bubble of anger and sadness well in his chest.

        During the time that Christine was in Chicago, she and Fraser had gotten to know one another quite well. Fraser had grown to like Christine in that time. Never had he seen his friend Ray so happy as when he was with her. Even when the two were apart, Fraser had noted that Ray was a changed man. When he could return to Christine at night, Ray was lighter of heart, easier to laugh and make jokes. Before she had come to Chicago and after she had been pulled away, Ray was moody, often down in the dumps. Christine had changed the lives of those around her. Knowing that she lay in a hospital bed, severely wounded, tore at Fraser's heart. He wondered how Ray was handling it.

        Fraser found his answer when he and the others entered the small hospital room. The sight that greeted them was a dark one. Ray sat beside Christine's bed, his head bowed as if in prayer, her small hand resting in his. He looked up when he heard footsteps enter the room.

        "Raymondo..." Mrs. Vecchio whispered, saying nothing more. In an instant, her son rushed to the arms of his mother. She held him, talking to him in Italian as if he were an infant again. Francesca, Maria and Tony all joined in the embrace, holding to each other for comfort. Fraser watched the scene a bit detachedly for a moment, then crossed the room to stand by Christine's bedside.

        The sight of her cocooned in the hospital bed shocked even him. Her tiny form appeared even smaller when surrounded by the mass of wires and machines that supported her. It was then that Fraser focused on Christine's face. There were still tiny traces of make-up on her eyes, cheeks and lips. Her raven hair still held some of the curl that had been part of her hairstyle. Fraser felt the anger well up inside him, but he kept it carefully hidden. *How could anyone do this?* he wondered.

        Lost in a myriad of angry thoughts, Fraser did not hear Ray approach and stand by his side. He did not notice when the other man watched his friend, noticing the rage that flickered across ice blue eyes. Fraser kept an iron grip on his Stetson, trying to keep his emotions in check.

        "I know how you feel" Ray said quietly, interrupting Fraser's train of thought.

        Fraser turned slightly, facing Ray. The Mountie was amazed by how haggard his friend looked. His skin was abnormally pale, it seemed to almost hang from his frame. His eyes, normally full of sparkle and wit, were dull and lifeless, never wavering from Christine's face. Fraser watched as a brief flash of anger moved across Ray's face then disappeared to be replaced by the slack expression that had become routine.

        "I know," Fraser answered, just as quietly. "Is there anything we can do?" A primal voice inside his head screamed for revenge. Revenge against those who had caused his best friend such grief. Revenge against those who had hurt an innocent such as Christine. Fraser stamped the voice down until it was a whisper. There would be time later for such thoughts.

        "No," Ray spat, the anger creeping back into his voice. "David was arrested and is being held. I can't touch him...no one can" His hands curled into fists, longing to wrap them around David's neck. To squeeze the breath from the brother who had the audacity to do this to his sister, his own flesh and blood.

Fraser placed a reassuring hand on Ray's shoulder. He knew his friend was angry, he was angry too. Yet there was nothing either of them could do. The man who shot Christine was behind bars, neither he nor Ray could even get near him. They would have to wait until Christine woke up before they could make any moves.


******

        The struggle towards consciousness was a long and hard battle. Yet Christine was not to be stopped. Despite the protests her body gave and fighting the urge to just give up, she reached out towards the world of the living.

        Uttering a low groan, Christine slowly opened her eyes. At first the world around her was a complete blur, but it quickly resolved itself into a white hospital room. The only thing not hurting Christine were her eyes. So she moved them, trying to take in her surroundings. As she slowly scanned the room, her mind tried to make sense of the rush of feelings coursing through her. Her whole body ached, yet for some reason the area below her waist merely tingled. She tried to wiggle her toes but failed. Giving a small frown, Christine tried to move her hand and succeeded.

        A fleeting smile crossed her features, followed by a grimace of pain. To move her hand, even the mere fraction of an inch it had moved, hurt her extremely. Bracing herself against the pain, Christine fought and moved her hand again. The pain was excruciating as it ran its white-hot tendrils through her body. Giving a small cry of pain, Christine relaxed her body and instead began to work her mind.

        How had this happened to her? Christine could remember how she was about to be married. Then something had happened, a distraction and then a gunshot. The memory of the gunshot was clear in her mind. What was even clearer was the face of Ray and the look of pure horror and terror in his eyes. He was the one who had held her while waiting for the ambulance. Was he here? Christine wondered. She didn't know, but wanted to find out.

        Bracing herself again, Christine began to inch her hand towards the call button that lay just out of reach. Tears of pain coursed down her cheeks. She gritted her teeth, just a few inches more...
        
******

        Ray slowly walked down the hospital hallway, stretching his muscles. It had been over a week since Christine had been brought here. Over a week since the surgery and still she had yet to wake up. It was frustrating, waiting and never knowing when she would awaken.

        His family, along with Fraser, had left the hospital not long after their first visit. But every day one or two of them showed up to give Ray support. If Fraser showed up, the two men would talk. If it was his mother or any other member of his family, then they would sit together in silence, often praying. Ray's fingers ached from holding rosary beads, but being the good Catholic boy he was, he knew the power of prayer.

        Ray let out a low groan as his aching body protested the movements he was doing. He had spent the past week keeping vigil by Christine's side. The nurses had taken pity on him, bringing him meals and even setting up a cot for him. Ray appreciated everything everyone had done for him. If only Christine was awake to see...

        Giving a sigh of frustration, Ray re-entered Christine's room ready to go another round of keeping vigil. The sight that greeted him made him stop short in surprise. There in the bed lay Christine, and she was awake!

        "Chris!" Ray nearly shouted. He ran over to her bedside, taking her hand in his. His heart pounded with relief. His love was awake...and she was smiling.

        Christine smiled weakly at Ray as he knelt by her bedside. His face smiling at her was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Fighting against the pain that screamed through her body, she moved her hand to caress Ray's face.

        "Hello Ray" she whispered. Her fingers brushed against his cheek, cool against his warm skin. She felt the faint tickle of stubble on his face and couldn't help but give a small chuckle.

        "What's so funny?" Ray asked. He leaned into her touch, carefully nuzzling her palm. His lips brushed a kiss against the inside of her thin wrist.

        "I was just thinking..." she managed to answer weakly. She was thinking of a time not too long ago when she had caressed Ray's cheek and felt the stubble underneath. But that was when she knew him as Jason and they were in her father's house. That was before...

        Christine yawned, she was so tired now. Just the simple acts of moving her hand and speaking a few words had worn her out. Christine closed her eyes and was instantly asleep.

        Ray smiled warmly at the now sleeping Christine. He had been about to ask her *what* she had been thinking about, but she had fallen asleep before he could get the words out. Reaching out, he gently brushed a lock of her raven hair. How he loved her hair, her skin, everything about her. Tucking her hand among the soft covers, Ray leaned over and brushed the lightest of kisses over Christine's lips.

        "Sleep well my love" he whispered to her. Then, feeling the events of the day wearing on him, Ray too turned in to sleep. He shed his shoes and curled up on the tiny cot. Like Christine, he too fell instantly asleep.

******

        Another week passed and Christine slowly traveled the road to recovery. She was able to sit up now with little pain, and all the IV lines and monitors had been removed. The doctors were pleased with her healing and said that soon she'd be able to start physical therapy. Christine didn't look forward to the therapy, it still hurt her to move. She had gotten a bit of feeling back in her legs, but she still had little control over her lower limbs.

        One night, as Christine was getting ready for bed, she asked Ray a difficult question.

        "Ray...what happened after I was shot?"

        Ray turned from his post at the window and looked at Christine. "What?" he asked.

        "You heard me" she softly replied.

        "A-a million things happened..." Ray began. He sat on the edge of her bed and took her hand in his. Her thin fingers intertwined with his own. "After the ambulance pulled up, the local police weren't far behind. They arrested your brother...they're holding him for attempted murder"

        Christine was a bit stunned by the answer, yet it didn't surprise her in the least. She gave a gentle squeeze to Ray's hand causing him to look up at her. "Don't feel guilty" she smiled softly at him. "It wasn't your fault"

        "Then why do I feel it is?" Ray answered just as softly. "If I hadn't shown up you wouldn't have been shot. You wouldn't be in this hospital"

        Christine struggled for a second, then sat up straighter on her hospital bed. She released Ray's grip then placed her hands on either side of his face. She turned his face towards her and looked him straight in the eye. "Ray Vecchio, I want you to listen and listen good. This was *not* your fault. I'm glad you showed up. If you hadn't, you can rest assured I would have been completely miserable and would probably be dead right now" Her voice was firm but had warm tones to it "So don't think this is your fault, in fact, you saved my life" Christine smiled at him, her lips curling up slightly on the edges.

        Ray returned the smile Christine gave him. Her words had eased some of the guilt that had settled in his chest. Leaning forward, he kissed her gently on the lips. Christine broke the kiss first, laughing low as she placed a chaste kiss on Ray's forehead.

        With a satisfied sigh, she lay back on her pillows and smiled up at the man beside her. He had done so much for her, risked everything for her. Christine's thoughts drifted from one moment of her life with Ray to another as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

******

        It wasn't long before Christine started taking physical therapy to help her regain the use of her legs. The doctors had been wrong in saying she might never walk again. She would, but it would take time and patience. Christine had both in abundance, and she coupled it with her strong determination.

        At first the going was extremely difficult, the nerves in Christine's back were still very tender and raw. Many a time she would cry out in pain during the sessions. The tears of agony and frustration would stream down Christine's face disappearing into her dark hair.

        During the sessions, Ray would be there, offering what help he could. Most often, he would coax Christine. Giving her warm words to help her along. After the sessions, especially the more difficult ones, he would hold her. Cradle her body to his as she wept, the tears of pain soaking his shirt. Ray didn't mind this one bit, the feel of Christine's soft body against his was a warm sensation he thoroughly enjoyed. He would croon softly to her, holding her until she fell asleep.

        It was then, while Christine was asleep, that Ray would reflect on how everything in his life had changed. It seemed like only yesterday he had arrived at the Mercutio home and met Christine for the first time. Had it really been almost two years? Time flies, as they say.

        Ray also thought about him marrying Christine. He had been married once before, but that marriage had ended in divorce. Would this one end up the same? Ray knew in his heart he loved Christine, but he also knew that when he married Angie he loved her. A sea of doubts swarmed though Ray's mind. He loved her, but was it a love to last forever? Both he and Christine had been through so much together, would their passion continue? Or would it fizzle to nothing? Ray was so confused as he lay there in the hospital room. It was a long time until his mind settled down and allowed him to fall asleep.

******

        The next day, Christine voiced some of the same emotions that had been going through Ray's mind. She had just returned from another session with the physical therapist and now sat combing out her damp hair from her shower. The movements caused Christine's sore muscles to protest even more. Ray caught the pain in Christine's eyes. Without a word he moved and sat behind her on the hospital bed. He took the comb from her slim fingers and began to work at unsnarling her raven hair.

        "I've always loved your hair Christine" Ray whispered, leaning in closer to breathe in the scent that lingered there.

        "Thank you" she replied with a laugh. Christine turned to face him, a smile on her face. The look of trouble in his eyes made her frown ever so slightly. "What's wrong?" she whispered with a tilt of her head.

        "It's nothing" Ray murmured back.

        Christine threw Ray a skeptical look. "Nothing, eh? I know that look Ray, something is running through that mind of yours" She was silent for a moment, then whispered to him "Are you thinking of your past marriage? Wondering if we get married the same thing might happen?"

        Ray was astonished, his gray-green eyes swept over Christine's face finally settling on her dark eyes. He had never spoken of his first marriage, so how could she know?

        "Your mother told me" Christine answered the unspoken question that had flashed in his eyes. "One day - while you were at work. We sat there and must have spoken for hours. She told me all about your childhood, your father...and your first marriage."

        Ray let the words she had spoken sink in. She knew...knew everything about him now. At first, he had thought that not letting her know about his marriage to Angie was a good thing. He knew he couldn't keep the secret forever, yet try as he might, Ray could not bring himself to tell Christine. Now that she knew, Ray felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

        "So you know..." he whispered, repeating her. "You know I was married before, you're not my first"

        "Yeah, I know" Christine smiled. "I know that other women have touched your body, and one other even shared your name. But I like to think that I was the first to touch your soul"

        Her words echoed in Ray's ears, but upon reflection he realized she spoke the truth. He had loved other women in his lifetime, but none like he loved Christine. When they were together, he felt complete. When they kissed or made love, he felt as if their souls could merge just by them being together like that. It was the truth, and that made Ray love Christine even more.

        "I love you, have I told you that?" Ray asked with a grin.

        Christine looked thoughtful for a moment, then she smiled back. "Yes, I believe you have" She kissed him then, a long passionate kiss. When their lips parted, she flashed him another impish grin. "Goodnight Ray" Christine whispered, still smiling as she crawled under the covers. It had been a very long day and the session with the physical therapist had worn her out.

        Ray watched Christine settle herself under the thin covers. When she was finally comfortable, he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, much as he would do for one of his neices or nephews. When he tried to back away, Christine reached out and grabbed Ray's hand.

        "Lay with me" she whispered, "at least until I fall asleep. Please?"

        Ray looked down at Christine. *Now how can I resist a face like that?* he thought to himself. She was giving her best big-eyed look, the one that never failed.

        "Okay" he said, giving a mock sigh. Pulling the covers aside, Ray climbed into the bed beside Christine. He felt her snuggle up against his chest and smiled to himself. He listened as almost at once her breathing slowed to the deep rhythm of sleep. Holding Christine close Ray closed his eyes. Within seconds, he too was asleep.

******

        It wasn't long after that Christine was allowed to leave the hospital. Her injuries had healed and her muscles were getting stronger every day. She was still weak, still needed help to walk, but she was progressing at a steady pace.

        As soon as she was settled in the Vecchio home, Ray became the ultimate mother hen. He had returned to work a bit reluctantly, but at Christine's urging he went back. While he was at work he called her almost every hour. Christine would laughingly tell Ray that yes she was fine, yes she missed him and yes she too could not wait until he got home.

        Day by day Christine grew stronger. In the mornings, before Ray went to work, he would carry Christine downstairs to the living room. She insisted she could do it herself, but Ray wouldn't listen. He was taking the physical therapist's instructions of "don't overexert" literally. He refused to let Christine do anything while he was around, he waited on her hand and foot. While she enjoyed the fact that Ray had become her slave, it also aggravated her. Christine wanted to be allowed to do things by herself.

        So, when Ray left for work in the mornings, Christine would do things by herself. She would get up and walk around, getting her strength back. If Maria needed help with one of the smaller children, Christine would help. She'd sit and read or just rock a baby if it was needed.

        Ray came home one evening and found Christine sitting in a rocking chair, his infant nephew in her arms. Both she and the baby were dozing, their eyes shut in rest. Ray couldn't help but smile tenderly at the two. He had always wanted a family of his own, this sight of Christine holding a baby only reinforced his belief in her being a good mother.

        Shedding his bulky coat, Ray knelt before the rocking chair. Gently reaching out, he brushed Christine's cheek. Instinct made her turn towards the caress, her eyes slowly opening. She smiled when she saw Ray kneeling before her.

        "Shhh - " she whispered needlessly, shifting the still sleeping baby in her arms. The infant gave a small whimper, but immediately ceased when Christine rocked him. She looked up again at Ray, "Did you have a nice day?"

        Ray smiled, "Yes, I did" He liked the fact that she asked the same question day after day, every time Ray returned from work. No matter if it was early in the evening or 2 in the morning, Christine always asked Ray about his day at work. "We solved a big case today. A bad guy is going away for a long, long time"

        Christine smiled at Ray, but after a moment, her smile turned into a worried frown. She looked away, turning her dark gaze to the sleeping infant in her arms. In the time since her shooting, her brother David had gone to trial. The family lawyer, a total sleaze, got David off the hook and out of jail with nothing more than a slap on the wrist. Never mind that he had tried to kill a Chicago cop and had instead nearly killed his sister, David Mercutio was an upstanding man. Or so the courts had been led to believe. Christine knew the truth about her brother, and Ray knew it too. They both also knew that speaking out could lead to mysterious accidents, and most certainly death. Neither was willing to risk that.

        Ray caught the worried look in Christine's eyes. He knew what caused it, it was the same thing that kept him up at nights. Moving quietly, Ray took his tiny nephew from Christine's arms and laid him down in the bassinet beside her chair. He stood, pulling Christine to a standing position and into his arms. Ray held her close to him, his arms wound tightly around her. He felt her shudder in his arms and he held her tighter.

        "It's all right" he whispered to her "I promise you, it'll all be all right" Ray hoped Christine believed those words as much as he did. He had said those same words to her once before and he had failed her. Ray swore that this time around he'd protect Christine, he wouldn't fail her this time.

******

        The days passed and Christine slowly recovered. She had no trouble moving from room to room, but still had to hold on to something to climb the stairs. She didn't do it often, usually only in the mornings and at night, and every time she approached the stairway, Ray was beside her giving her the support she needed.

        Their wedding plans also began again. The previous plans had been scrapped when Christine had been taken back by her brother. During the time that Ray had strove to save her and later while she recovered, he hadn't given it any thought. Now that they were together again, the wedding plans proceeded.

        All seemed well once again in the Vecchio household. Christine was completely healed now and she had never been happier. Both she and Ray thought that nothing could spoil their plans now. Little did they know that their biggest fears were about to unfold right under their noses..

******

        It was a chilly night when the events surrounding Ray and Christine's life came to it's final head. The evening had gone normally enough. Ray had returned home from work and sat down to dinner with the family. Afterwards, they had all retired to the living room for a bit of TV and general relaxation.

        Around 10 o'clock, the remaining awake children were sent to bed. Christine and Ray went upstairs soon after. By the time midnight rolled around, the house had been shut down, everyone asleep in their beds.

        Ray and Christine lay in bed, sleeping peacefully. Their bodies were twined with one another, offering comfort and warmth in the cold house. Around one in the morning, the sound of something, or someone, prowling around the backyard drew Ray from his slumber. He woke up, completely lucid, his officer mind immediately taking control.

        Carefully disentangling himself from Christine's grasp, Ray climbed out of bed. His movements woke Christine up, who looked up at him with dark, sleepy eyes.

        "What's wrong?" she whispered

        "It's probably nothing" Ray whispered back, "it's probably just Mrs. Montgomery's cat stirring up trouble again. Go back to sleep, I'll take care of it"

        Christine smiled up at Ray as he silently opened his bedroom door and went out. She could hear the soft whisper of his footsteps as he went down the hall and towards the stairs. When she could no longer make out Ray's steps, Christine snuggled down between the soft sheets. Their warmth made her sleepy, and within seconds Christine was asleep again.

******

        Ray softly padded down the wooden stairs. He mentally cursed Mrs. Montgomery's cat, dragging him out of bed at this hour. He should have been back in bed, getting the sleep he desperately needed. He should have been cuddled up with Christine, not freezing his butt off trying to track down some noise that was probably the neighbor's stupid cat.

        "Stupid cat" Ray mumbled to himself, "dragging me out at this hour. When I get my hands on him...." But Ray knew the threat was useless, he could never hurt an animal, he just wasn't that cruel.

        Ray silently walked through the house, stopping at the back door. The noise that he had heard upstairs was gone, whatever causing it having disappeared. Just to make sure everything was okay, Ray silently opened the back door. He stepped out onto the porch, his eyes scanning the yard for anything out of the ordinary. The cold air took his breath away, but Ray kept looking. He didn't see the dark figure moving towards him until it was almost too late.

******

        Ray saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to meet it, whatever it was. The dark figure that came flying at Ray slammed into him, driving him back. Struggling against the person attacking him, Ray tried to open his eyes and see the face of his attacker. But the person in black wasn't going to allow that, they rained blow after blow on Ray's face, shoulders, body.

        Ray fought back, calling up strength he didn't even knew he had. For every blow his attacker gave, he gave one back. During a brief respite between blows, Ray was able to open his eyes. He looked up at his attacker, seeing only a black mask. Whoever this was, they were a professional. They weren't about to let their victim know who they were.

        But Ray knew, he knew who it was. He had seen his attacker's eyes, seen the hatred that burned in their dark depths. Ray knew that his attacker was none other than David, Christine's brother. The man had gone over the edge with anger and hatred towards the Chicago Detective and was now trying to kill the thing he hated most. All Ray could do was fight off the blows and hope to get in a lucky one himself.

******

        Upstairs, Christine was awakened from her slumber with a great feeling of unease. She looked towards the small alarm clock that sat on the side table, silently humming to itself. The hands had moved approximately twenty minutes since she had looked at it last. That was when Ray had left to go downstairs.

        Sitting up in the bed, Christine rubbed at her eyes and rechecked the clock. The time had not changed, and that worried her. Usually, when Ray checked on a noise, he was back in five minutes, ten minutes tops. He had never been gone like this before.

        Christine's head whipped towards the far window when she heard what sounded like a scuffle outside. Was there someone out there? Was that what was keeping Ray? Christine was scared, but she knew what she had to do.

        Swallowing the lump of fear that filled her stomach, she reached for the tiny key that unlocked the drawer of the bedside table. Her slender fingers reached in to the drawer and found the object she knew would be there. Drawing out Ray's gun, she snapped the clip of bullets into place and thumbed the safety off.

        She gripped the gun with both hands. Ray had shown her how to use the gun safely. He had taken her to the firing range and had helped her become a marksman. In the Mercutio family, letting a woman use a gun was strictly forbidden. Christine had been afraid of firing a gun herself until Ray had shown her that with the right knowledge, one could be safe.

        Carefully opening the bedroom door, Christine peeked around it. The hall was quiet, no other member of the family had been woken up. Christine was grateful for that, she didn't want any of the other family members to see her creeping down the hall, gun in hand.

        Slowly, Christine made her way downstairs and towards the back of the house. That's where the noise was to her ears. Silently she crept to the kitchen and carefully peeked out a nearby window. She saw nothing for a moment and briefly assumed that it had been a false alarm. That Ray would be back any minute. He'd probably be a bit upset that she took his gun from the dresser, but in the end he'd understand her reasons behind her actions.

        Just when Christine was about to turn around and return upstairs, she saw movement. It was the briefest flash, but it was enough. Whispering a silent prayer, Christine went to the back door and opened it a tiny crack. She peered around it, trying to see what had caught her eye.

        The sight she saw took her breath away. There in the backyard two men were fighting. One was clearly Ray, the other was dressed all in black, his face hidden by a black mask. Christine watched as the two men grappled with each other, throwing punches, trying to get the upper hand.

        The figure in black delivered a nasty punch to Ray's abdomen, doubling him over. Ray gasped for breath but retaliated by giving the figure in black a right uppercut. He took advantage of his dark foes momentary disorientation and delivered blow after blow.

        Christine felt all the blood drain from her face as she realized who the figure in black was. She had watched the dark figure deliver blow after blow to Ray, and watched as Ray retaliated. The way the man in black moved tickled at Christine's brain, something was familiar about him. Then it dawned on her who it was. It was David, out of jail and coming back for revenge.

        A red bubble of anger welled up in Christine's chest. She had spent a lifetime keeping her emotions under wraps, never letting anyone know how miserable she was. Now, the anger that would usually be stomped down to nothing built and grew. Fueled by the years of grief she had been through, the anger inside grew and grew until it had nowhere to go but out.

        Lifting the gun, Christine aimed for David, the figure in black. She opened her mouth and out came a horrendous scream that formed into two words.

        "STOP IT!"

        Both Ray and David immediately stopped their fighting, fists frozen in mid-swing. The two men turned to face Christine, shock on their faces. She, in turn, began a slow descent towards them, the gun in her hands still trained on David.

        "Stop it," she repeated in a hoarse whisper, her chest heaving in anger. "Stop this right now. I am tired of this David, I want it to end. And it is going to end, right here. One way or the other"

        David pulled his mask off, he knew that bit of the masquerade was over. "What are you going to do? Shoot me?" he sneered.

        "If I have to" Christine calmly replied.

        "You aren't brave enough Chrissy" David said in a cold voice. "Father was right about you, you know. He said you were weak, you would never belong in the family. And I agreed with him...I agreed. Because that's what you are. You're nothing, you're weak"

        Christine was enraged, she was furious. Here she was holding a gun to her brother and he was *still* talking to her as if he had the upper hand.

        "No David, I'm not weak. It's you who are weak. I am strong. I followed my heart instead of going along with tradition that should have been dead years ago. I am strong because I broke the bonds that have kept us stagnant for years. Ray opened my eyes to that fact, he taught me things about myself I had never known. I love him for that, and you hate him for it. You can't see past the nose on your face, you're so immersed in tradition. I'm sorry David, it is not I who is weak, it is you" Christine lifted her chin up proudly. She had kept the gun trained on David the whole time, her hands never trembling, her gaze never wavering.

        David's eyes went wide. Never had he heard Christine talk that way. Never had he seen the look on her face, the look of anger. He saw the blazing anger behind her dark eyes as she kept the gun trained on him. He was amazed at how calm she was.

        "I think you should go now David" Christine whispered. "Go. I never want to see your face again" She motioned with the muzzle of the gun towards the back gate. She knew that beyond the fence lay a car waiting for David to make his getaway in.

        "This isn't over" David whispered, "this will never be over"

        Christine's reply was calm, measured. "Yes it is David, only you can't see it" She lowered the gun slightly and turned away from him.

        David was furious. He watched as Christine turned away from him, facing Ray. She took his arm and together they both turned towards the house. The anger that filled David reached its boiling point and something inside him snapped. With a primal scream he launched himself at Christine and Ray. His intentions were very clear, he was going to kill them.

        With an extreme calm about her Christine turned and fired once. The bullet found its mark, tearing through David, killing him instantly. David hit the ground already dead. His body twitched once then settled, his blood seeping into the grass beneath him.

        Christine looked down at the dead form of her brother at her feet. The calm that surrounded her broke away and she dropped the gun in her hands. Falling to her knees, she let the sorrow she felt rush over her. She sobbed into her hands, sadness and relief filling her.

        Ray knelt beside Christine, pulling her into his warm embrace. He felt the sobs rack her body. Holding her tighter, he stroked her dark hair, whispering to her.

        "Shhh..." he whispered. "It's all right, it's over now"

        Slowly the sobs subsided for Christine. Finally she looked up at Ray, her eyes still glistening with tears. Ray tried to grin, but the busted lip that David had given him made it a bit difficult. She smiled back at him, reaching up to brush his bruised cheek. She then kissed him fleetingly on the lips.

        "You're right" she replied, "it's over. It's finally over..."


END (up next....the wedding!!)



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