Blinding	Blinding

 by Elk

  

 Author's Website: 

 Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own mind. Pity me for that and don't
sue.

 Author's Notes: Comments welcomed with undignified sqealing.

 Story Notes: Spoilers: Not really, no.

 

 

 Blinding 

 Standing in a white square room. White walls, four of them, looming high
into the distance overhead. White floor, hard as granite, beneath the well
polished boots. Alone. Fraser looked about him for a moment. No, he was
quite alone. And then, he saw him standing in the corner, a corner he had
checked as empty a moment before, and there was no door to this white
walled cell. Inside the blinding white room in which he had been alone. 

"Ray." The man shook his head, watching Fraser closely as a beautiful slow
smile spread across that face. Spiky hair, golden and twisted at the ends,
framing hard soft skin. Fraser squinted through the brightness of the air,
frowning at something, at the man. 

"Ray." He said again, confirming his statement. Not a question, which
would have been ridiculous considering he could see very well and what he
saw was most definitely Ray. "How did you get here?" He asked, confused.
At the silence, at the company, at the breach of his blinding white room.
The man shrugged, sniffing a little, constantly bouncing his back against
the wall. "How did you get here?" Fraser still frowned, taking a pace
closer to the man, the blur of a man still bouncing himself off one of the
corner walls. 

"Ray." The man echoed, a touch of amusement in his voice and on his lips,
still twitching towards a smile. 

"Yes." Fraser confirmed again, irritation now showing in his tone. "How
did you get in here? There is no door." Fraser said, enunciating clearly,
and taking another step closer to the man, blurred slightly to his usually
excellent vision, moving silently, without pause. "Ray." Fraser prompted
sharply, slicing an arm forward to halt the man. "Could you please remain
still for a moment." 

"Came in the side door." The man answered, eyes flickering past Fraser,
watching the empty whiteness in the opposite corner of the room. 

"There is no side door." Fraser's hand gripped the man's arm, looking to
lock the movement into one definable place. 

"In or out?" The man started tapping his fingers against the walls, dull
nails digging slightly into the granulated surface, spraying damp flakes
onto Fraser's well polished boots. 

"I don't understand w...." Fraser broke off, his attention caught by the
erratic tapping of the man's fingers against the wall. "That is, I'm
afraid I don't quite...." Again the tapping interrupted his train of
thought. Fraser sighed, exasperated, as chippings of the wall began to
melt into his well polished boots. "I'm afraid I don't understand what it
is that...." He grabbed the man's wrist and lifted the offending hand away
from the dent in the blinding white wall, pinning it in much the same way
he was the other arm, down by the man's sides, holding him firmly in
place, holding him still. "What it is that you're doing here?" He finished
quickly, voice taking on a distant, accusatory edge. 

An eerie cracking sounded from outside the walls. 

"Have to go." The man half sang, half whispered, leaning his head closer
to Fraser, until they touched, together. "Have to go." And suddenly Fraser
was consumed by an untenable dread. His grip tightened, as this dread
stung him, moved through him, piercing his skin and flesh, permeating his
bones. 

"No." He said urgently, fingers digging deeper into the rumpled sleeve of
the man's shirt. 

"Hmm." The man hummed in an unfathomable sort of way. 

"I don't...." Fraser muttered, breath suddenly shallow and needing,
exhaling warmth into the ice chilled air, between their closely parted
lips. Then Fraser noticed the shivering in the man's hands, where the
pulse in each of his wrists pressed hard against the wall. Fraser loosened
his grasp and moved fingers down the arm, encircling the cold skin,
rubbing back and forth. His body pressed forward, pinning the man against
cold hard ice, even as he soothed the skin he had burned. Burned with the
cold of the blinding white room. 

"Ray?" Fraser asked, before being overtaken by a halcyon flash of light. 

 Fraser woke to find himself clutching a pillow to his chest, drenched in
the sheen of cold night sweat. Diefenbaker whined a little, lifting his
head from his paws. "Bad dream." Fraser explained hushly, turning his head
towards the window. "Go back to sleep." And Diefenbaker did. 

 End 

End