Neverland	   Neverland

 by Viridian5

  

 Author's website: http://www.mrks.org/~viridian/

 Disclaimer: All things _due South_ belong to Alliance no matter how much
I want Ray K to belong to me. No infringement intended. Suing me would be
a waste of time. Besides, I'm poor, and I'd just kick you in the head.

 Author's Notes: Thanks to Kasha for beta, thanks to Alyx for telling me
which Canadian agencies might make the grab, and thanks to cmshaw for
helping me with a lay/lie thing early on. Go me for getting "lay" right
the first time. Thanks to Kass and Kasha for listening, 
reading, and commenting as the bits settled. The summary is from
"Neverland (a fragment)" by The Sisters of Mercy.

 Story Notes: SPOILERS: "Call of the Wild." 
This is an alternate sequel to "Long, Long Way from Home" in the
Borderlands (One for Sorrow) series. Reading the actual sequel,
"Nevermore," would only make the experience richer. *cough* This story
also has tendrils from the Things Once Linked series in it. 
I first got the idea for this during my three days of jury duty in January
2001. Maybe that's why it's so dark. I realized that there were some
_X-Files_ elements in Borderlands and wondered what might have happened in
a more XF-ish universe.

 This story is a sequel to: Long, Long Way From Home 

 

 "Neverland"
 By Viridian5  "You know in the summer if you lay on the grass and stare
at the sky, you can almost see beyond the stars, but cannot quite get a
grip on what's there? Well, sometimes it's very difficult to work out
exactly what it is that keeps you pressed between the earth and the sky
and why you don't whoosh off into oblivion."  Andrew Eldritch, on
"Neverland (a fragment)" "After the Flood" by Ted Mico Melody Maker, 14
November 1987	

 I walked the road under the stars alone. Couldn't sleep. I loved Ben, but
I couldn't take any more of his worry over my insomnia and my weirdness. I
couldn't take him thinking that I was nuts. I loved Dief--not in the same
way, of course--but he was attached to the freakiness, and he reminded me
of my dogs, my sled dogs I had to give up. The Mounties better be treating
Santa's Little Helpers right. 

 Nights were harder for me to take, even in this small town as opposed to
the big wilds. Though this town was considered pretty big by local
standards, since the small airport nearby drew people in just like it did
us. Most of the town was asleep and felt like a dull, annoying buzz now,
but a lot of the local animals were awake and hunting for food. Feeling
small critters bite the dust every so often didn't do much for my mood. 

 Better off without the people around, though. I was kind of trying to
avoid them. People kept looking at me funny, and I kept getting into
fights. I know it's stupid but can't help myself, not with the way I keep
itching. They're not friendly, they don't trust strangers much, and they
don't like me. Sometimes I go on the attack and then wonder later if the
person actually said what I thought I'd heard. 

 I'm too damned open out here. Ravens and mind reading and mystical
shit.... 

 Much as I hated going back to Chicago with my tail between my legs, my
head needed the break. I just hoped that things would be better there. 

 Wait a minute. It wasn't just animals on the hunt tonight. Somebody was
hunting me. Several somebodies. I heard them a little, but mostly I heard
them, like distant radio stations playing under static, too complicated
and mentioning my frigging name too often to be animals. The volume kept
getting louder.... Details came in pretty clear with everybody else
asleep. I couldn't hear full thoughts but I heard wants, and they wanted
me. 

 I didn't have a gun, and I was outnumbered. Dammit. 

 I walked around a bit, trying to lose them, but I didn't know the town
and it was too small anyway. Small and simple, on a grid pattern. And I
didn't trust what pathetic little woodcraft I have at night. 

 I started to briskly but "casually" walk to the boarding house to get
Fraser. Damn, I had somebodies in front of me too. And to the sides. They
were fucking hemming me in. When they came closer they didn't look too
menacing, but they were all around me and I could feel them. Seven guys.
Maybe I should have felt flattered that they figured they might need that
many. They were kind of excited about the possibility that I might put up
a fight and they might have to hurt me bad to put me down, but otherwise
they were cold because it was nothing personal to them. Professionals. 

 I didn't intend to let anybody put me anywhere or use me as some kind of
means to an end. It pissed me off being dicked around by people I didn't
even know and hadn't done anything to. 

 The first guy had a big friendly smile. "Detective Kowalski. We'd just
like to talk to you for a moment." 

 All officer of the law to officer of the law, like official business. I
knew better. I was nuts, but I hadn't lost it that far. "It's really late,
and I just wanna get back to my room. We can talk in the morning." They
were all moving in closer, tightening the noose. 

 "It's very important." 

 "Nothing's that important." 

 Lightning.... Shit, they were firing up tazers. I moved, knocked one guy
down, punched another guy, elbowed somebody else, shouted.... The tazer
hit like a punch in the head. As I fell and everything went black, I tore
my bracelet loose and tried to fling it a bit. Ben has to--  

 Ray had been gone a very long time, and, much as I trusted him, I knew
that he hadn't been well. Surely he didn't need this much space. "Dief,
we're going out to find Ray," I said as I stood and put on my coat. Dief
told me that it was about time. 

 As soon as we walked out into a night that was showing the faintest touch
of the coming thaw, Dief bounded away on Ray's trail, and I bounded after
him, trying to lose my worries in the pounding of my feet and heart, the
rush of my blood. I'd be taking Ray home to Chicago tomorrow for his own
mental safety, and it would be beyond cruel for something to happen to him
now. 

 Dief stopped suddenly in front of me and barked. I dropped to my knees
nearby, searching for something, anything. I found nothing, no signs of
anything untoward. Dief, however, barked again a meter away. Ray's
bracelet, broken and lying in the road like trash, gleamed dully in the
beam of my flashlight. There had to have been some kind of struggle for it
to come loose and break like that, because it stayed hidden under his
glove and coat whenever he went out. But I saw no traces, no hints, as to
the identity of his kidnappers. To Dief's consternation, he couldn't pick
up Ray's scent any further. They must have carried him away. Shortly
thereafter the scent trails leaving this scene became a mess, impossible
to follow. 

 Then it started to rain, nature itself working against us. It sounded
loud against my hat and quickly soaked through my jeans and gloves. 

 As my stomach dropped, my mind raced into overdrive. Who would do this?
This town had very little crime aside from the occasional drunken bar
brawl or petty theft. If he'd been robbed, he would have made it home. If
murdered.... When I let myself think about that, I had to say that if he'd
been murdered I would have surely found his... body. Why would they carry
him away? 

 Who would want him or us? Who had a score to settle? I could only think
of Muldoon, but he hadn't been a man to inspire loyalty in his minions,
not when he casually disposed of them like trash. Yet I could not think of
anyone else. What insane plans might an associate of Muldoon's have for
Ray? At best I could expect a ransom demand. At worst.... 

 I would find Ray. That was the best case scenario. 

 Dief suggested that we get out of the rain and pick this up again in the
morning. We'd accomplish nothing further here now except sickening
ourselves. 

 I wanted to howl.  

 That morning, I found out that no one had heard anything. As Ray would
say, it was a neighborhood of deaf, blind, and dumb people. The complete
lack of leads especially grated on me after a long night spent in
sleepless anxiety. I had very little patience left in me. 

 The local constable would not open a case, refusing to see the broken
bracelet, which I'd left there as evidence, as enough to indicate an
assault. "It could have just broken and fallen off." The scene presented
no other evidence. In any case, Ray hadn't been missing long enough for
anyone to be concerned. My concern obviously meant nothing. I mentioned
that we would be leaving for Ray's home today, that he knew no one here
and had nowhere else to stay, that we had enemies, but none of my efforts
sparked any interest. I even attempted to trade on our current notoriety
as the men who'd helped capture Muldoon and thus might be targets, but to
no avail. 

 "He's a Yank. Who knows what he's thinking? I'm sure he'll return." 

 I found the constable's attitude very strange. He'd arrived with a look
that suggested that his mind had been made up long before I'd said a word.
Had he been bought off? 

 "Constable Fraser," he said as I started to leave. 

 "Yes?" 

 "We've heard that you have a tendency to flout hierarchy when you feel
the situation calls for it. I firmly suggest that you refrain from doing
so here." 

 Interesting. I retained a blank exterior, while on the inside I fumed.
This constable knew too much. If he hadn't been bought off, he was still
involved somehow. 

 I thought of using Ray's methods of intimidation to make him talk, but I
knew that if I started to threaten this man I wouldn't be able to stop
short of actual violence. I would wring his neck until he confessed, and
if he refused to confess I would wring his neck until he died. 

 Seeing no help here and facing far too much unholy temptation, I took
Ray's bracelet from the street and went to call Buck. If the local
officers would provide no help, I would have to make my own. Buck wouldn't
give me any nonsense about Ray wandering off, and he had many friends and
connections amongst the RCMP. 

 He sounded concerned when I called and promised his help. His connections
would cast their net wide. I also asked him to look into the background of
one Constable Matthew Cross.  

 Buck found nothing. I found nothing on my own. No ransom note arrived. My
fears mounted. I canceled our place on the flight out. 

 When I returned to our room that night, I quickly realized that the bed
sheets had been changed, leaving no trace of Ray's scent. It disturbed me
so deeply that I brought one of his undershirts out of his eccentrically
packed bag and slept with it, missing his warmth and heartbeat and
especially his presence. My dreams that night were dark and cold, and I
couldn't remember that much more of them in the morning. Feeling like ice,
brittle and cold, I put Ray's bracelet back on and went out to search
again, looking for witnesses or anyone who'd seen anything strange or
noteworthy. 

 That day passed in a way similar to the day before: no leads, no
witnesses, nothing out of the ordinary, none of my phone calls to anyone I
could consider a law enforcement contact yielding any fruit. I was in a
welter of fear and uncertainty, knowing that the longer Ray was gone, the
more likely it was that he'd been killed. 

 Although neither Buck nor I found anything suspicious on Matthew Cross,
he'd walk down the road in front of the boarding house every so often. It
couldn't quite be called harassment. He chased me away from the scene of
Ray's abduction once with an admonition that I was blocking traffic,
which, truly I was. 

 I could fault him on nothing, but I felt how wrong it all was. The urge
to murder him grew stronger, and I knew that beating him to a pulp would
relieve so much of my stress. Given enough time with him, I could make him
talk.... 

 No, I would only kill him. Right now I lacked the finesse for anything
else. Besides, it was wrong... illegal and immoral, no matter how right it
seemed to me. 

 That night I fell into my empty bed, tired in body, heart, and soul, but
how much worse off must Ray be? And I couldn't find him. I felt helpless
and drowned in my emotions. Dief leapt up onto the bed next to me, and I
buried my face in his fur.  

 I examined the scene of Ray's kidnapping again, crouching in the road for
another look. Dief barked joyously and bounded up to the person
approaching, making me hope that he'd seen Ray. Instead, he pounced on a
young man... no, a young woman dressed boyishly in a cowboy style, a dusty
bandanna at her throat disguising a lack of an Adam's apple, her dark
blonde hair cut in a mannish style beneath the cowboy hat she wore. She
wore no makeup, and her tanned skin had a slightly wind-roughened look,
while small squint lines bracketed her eyes. She'd even altered her walk
to better disguise a different center of gravity. Most people would think
her a young man. She had an antique gun holstered at each hip, making me
wonder if perhaps the town had some kind of odd festival going on, but
then I realized that I was dreaming. 

 "Hey, Tommy!" she greeted Dief, her voice deep for a woman and somewhat
hoarse, her accent an American variant I couldn't place. "This is a good
look for you, you scoundrel." The fringe on the sleeves of her dark brown
leather jacket swirled a bit, briefly resembling wings, as she crouched
beside me. "Can I help?" 

 Perhaps she could. Perhaps my subconscious had sent me aid. "I hope so.
Ray has been taken from me, taken here, but the trail goes cold. I fear
that my enemies have kidnapped him." It felt... comfortable to have her
here. 

 She nodded. "It's happened before. Have they made any demands?" 

 "No, and that worries me." 

 "They want to sweat you a bit first, maybe." 

 "That was my thought." I closed my eyes. In a dream, I could admit
weakness. "I'm so frustrated." 

 "So am I." 

 I opened my eyes. "I don't--" 

 She looked off into the distance. "I'm lost, Ian. You have to come quick.
You have to come quick and get me, because I don't know where I am, and
they watch me day and night. And I hate the needles and being helpless."
She shook her head, then cocked it in a very familiar way. "Canada never
worked out for us." 

 "Ray?" I asked. She was. And she wasn't. 

 Why would I imagine Ray as a woman, even a boyish one? It's not as if I
had any internal struggles over my orientation. 

 "They're not criminals in the traditional way. They're part of the
government, and as far as they're concerned I am not a citizen. As far as
they're concerned, I'm a bridle they can put on you, with a metal bit they
can put between your teeth." 

 "But--" 

 I awoke, frustrated and bereft. Then I called Buck and asked him to look
into any governmental agencies that had shown signs of irregular activity
lately. The whole time I ran the length of Ray's bracelet across my
fingers, back and forth. 

 I spent the day in more fruitless searching. Buck called that evening to
say that none of his contacts had noticed anything out of the ordinary. 

 My head pounded from frustration and fear as my well-developed
imagination gave me a variety of horrific images as to what Ray's captors
might be doing to him. I needed Ray back, and I feared for his life. And
for my sanity.	

 Dark when I opened my eyes, dark with rainbows when I closed them. I
smelled a hospital, sharp and acrid, then mud, then snow, then ozone, then
hospital again. Somebody sobbing, pleading; somebody laughing. Pain tore
at me, and I couldn't get away from it, especially not with my arms and
legs tied down, the shackles creaking. They'd ransom me if they didn't
kill me from carelessness first. 

 Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop.... 

 I had a sharp stone to cut through my bonds... didn't I? I knew I had it.
I must have lost it. 

 The familiar weight settled on my chest, and something ticklish brushed
across my neck. "They're molesting that girl next door again," the voice
croaked. "Are you sure you don't want to make a deal to get all of you out
of here?" Familiar voice. 

 I used to speak. A lot. I know I did. So I tried. "Nnnnnnh. Whua?" My
lips stuck to my teeth, and my throat hurt. Dry, so dry. 

 It sighed. "Damned drugs." 

 Yeah, the girl. Something about her people's treasures being stolen or
having been stolen ages ago, and she kept demanding them back too loudly.
Somebody hadn't liked that. Hadn't liked that a bit. 

 The orderlies and guards got to use her as a kind of bonus. 

 I got to feel her being raped. 

 And she wasn't alone, and I wasn't alone, and we were all in pain and
fucked up together, and I wanted it to fucking stop.... 

 I had told Ian how it could be. I'd told him. 

 "I can stop this," the voice said. "Give me your name and fealty, and we
can tear this place apart." 

 The next thrust ripped through me, bad as it could be, and I ripped back,
then fell back onto my sweat-damp pillow, shaking, like I'd strained
something after running for miles. But I felt them panicking and leaving
her alone. Leaving us alone, thank God. It was all impossible, but being
left alone felt good no matter how much my head rang.... 

 Hard to concentrate. 

 The thing on my chest cackled. "You... you tore the major blood vessel in
his dick! I love you, kid. And tore a shackle too. How about the other
wrist now? Hatchling?" 

 "I told Ian why I can't tell anyone." It was safer to be a boy. "I told
him...." 

 "Ian? What the--" It sighed. "I'll still be here when you wake up. Or get
back." 

 I'd been afraid of that.  

 The trickster confronted me in the street where Ray had been taken, a
location I kept dreaming about. He wore my father's face and uniform
again, the cloak of raven feathers dark and swirling over the red serge.
"You have to help the Yank," he said. "He's unanchored, lost. They have
him so drugged that he doesn't know who he is or what's real. It gives him
some power, but it makes him dangerous to himself and everyone around him.
You might want to hurry." 

 My heart clenched. "Can you tell me where he is?" 

 "I'm a primal force of nature. Do you think I understand street
addresses?" 

 Amazing. He was as helpful as my father had been, which was, to say, not
very much. When I approached him, he backed away, making me wonder what
kind of expression I had on my face. 

 I had to remain calm, or at least pretend to be calm. Had to. "Then help
me." 

 "I've helped you as much as I can." 

 "That's not enough!" So much for calm. "Can you at least help him?" 

 "I'm trying." 

 I awoke to the phone ringing. The phone ringing, even at 4 a.m., could
mean news. I lunged for it. "Constable Benton Fraser," I answered. 

 "Sir." 

 "Turnbull?" I asked. 

 "I know where Ray is." 

 I hadn't even let Renfield know that Ray was missing. Perhaps word had
filtered down. "How?" 

 "It would be dangerous to name my sources, sir." He sounded... very
awake. I couldn't figure out why that seemed odd to me. "The Canadian
Security and Intelligence Service has no idea of what it's toying with." 

 The Canadian Security and Intelligence Service? I'd so wanted to believe
that Ray had been taken by criminals, no matter what my dream had said,
but I'd been kicked too many times by government and corporate agencies to
be too surprised here. Enraged, yes, but not surprised. "You said you had
an address." 

 Renfield had more than an address; he gave me directions on how to get to
the place where Ray was being held from the boarding house I stayed at. It
seemed uncanny, but who was I to complain after speaking with a figure who
might be Raven? 

 Ray had been having such trouble before he was taken. If he truly did
suffer from the presence of uncanny abilities, how much worse might they
become in confinement, especially while in the clutches of singularly
uncaring captors? I had to free him immediately. 

 "Thank you, Turnbull," I said, as plans swirled through my head. I would
dress and leave immediately, 4 a.m. be damned. 

 "Yes, sir. Please bring him home safe. Good-bye." 

 "Good-bye." 

 I threw on my uniform with vigor, figuring that the uniform would give me
more moral authority. I put Ray's bracelet around my wrist, then covered
it with my sleeves. Dief barked excitedly, but I said, "I'm sorry, but you
can't come along. I doubt these people would respond well to the presence
of a half-wolf." Dief snorted in disgust and told me that he would wait
outside for us. "That would be fine. Thank you, Dief." 

 I fumed as I walked in the darkness. Only seven blocks away. All the
effort I'd made, and Ray had been only seven blocks away. It was a small
town. Dief peeled away from me at the sixth block to prevent whoever was
expecting us from knowing that he was around. 

 Not even in the suspicion of foul play could I break into a government
facility, not without evidence of wrongdoing. They no doubt had some plan,
and if I went to them they might tell me, and if they were asleep they
could be roused. But I doubted that they wouldn't leave a watch. 

 Indeed, as I reached the entrance the guards smiled at me as if expecting
me. One said, "You're late. We thought you'd come yesterday," as he
frisked me for weapons. 

 I knew that they remarked on my "lateness" as a taunt, to gall me, but
even knowing that it stung badly. "I'm here to--" 

 "We know what you're here for. Follow us," one of the guards said. He
waved me forward with his gun, indicating that I should walk in front of
him. Despite my misgivings, I did, remaining hyper-aware of the three
armed men at my back. 

 Walking through halls painted a sickly green, my nose kept wrinkling at
the smell of dust, stale air, and sterilized equipment. It could be argued
that those scents combined could be the smell of hopelessness, futility,
but I refused that interpretation. The hall somehow felt too quiet aside
from the vaguely echoing, soft sound of our footfalls and the momentary
squeaky, scuffing sound of an orderly's sneakers against the floor.
Fluorescent lighting gave everything an unhealthy glow. I didn't fool
myself that the rooms contained behind the thick, heavy, locked doors
would be any better. 

 This place felt so wrong to me that my heart clenched. As I'd fumbled
about for days, Ray had been trapped in this purgatory. 

 A tap of a gun barrel against my shoulder told me to stop and showed me
how lost in thought I had been. Such inattention could cost me--and
Ray--dearly. This door had its own guard, and he stepped away to open the
door and let me pass inside into a small, windowless room. The door shut
behind me and the single guard escort with a heavy, final sound. The
lights were on, making me wonder if they always kept the lights on at
night or they had called ahead and had prepared the room for my arrival. 

 Dear Lord. Ray.... 

 Ray lay atop the covers on a Spartan bed. In four-point restraints. The
red marks and bruises on his wrists and ankles suggested a constant
struggle against his padded leather shackles. Oddly, one of the wrist
shackles looked significantly different than the other three. He wore a
simple, thin, white short-sleeved pajama set. His feet were bare.
Gooseflesh roughened his pallid, chill skin and made the hairs stand on
end. He smelled sour, of drugs and sponge baths. Did they ever unshackle
him at all? The IV line attached to his arm sure as hell suggested that
they didn't feed him as if he were a healthy, functional human being. At
last I looked at his face. Asleep or unconscious, he still had lines of
suffering at the corners of his closed eyes and bracketing his mouth. His
thick stubble suggested that he hadn't shaved since before he'd been
taken. 

 I was outraged. I was sick. 

 When I knelt beside his bed I could feel the cold of the bare floor
through my jodhpurs. I set my head on the thin pillow next to his and
whispered, "Ray, I will get you out of here. I swear it." 

 He turned his head toward me in a random, tossing fashion, but he opened
one eye, the eye closest to the pillow, and murmured, "Gotta get us all
out of here. Political prisoners." His low voice sounded harsh and
gravelly, more like a bird's croak than human speech. His pupil was
dilated, but he sounded rational. 

 And he seemed to fear that he was under surveillance. He was no doubt
right. 

 Political prisoners. Everyone here was imprisoned unjustly? 

 I squeezed his hand in answer and reassurance, wincing at how icy he
felt. I couldn't allow him to be kept here, not one more day, not one more
hour. Not one more minute either, but I knew that I had no hope of
achieving that one. 

 "Kenny will wanna see ya. He'll tell you what's up," Ray whispered. 

 I nearly snarled when a heavy hand fell upon my shoulder. "Our captain
wants to see you," the guard said. "To discuss terms." 

 When I turned to face Ray again, there were no indications that he'd ever
been conscious. His closed eyes looked almost bruised. I put my hand on
his dark, almost greasy looking hair and felt oil cling to my fingers.
Everything about him spoke of being ill-kept, ill-treated, ill-used. 

 I swallowed down my outrage, knowing that I would be no good to anyone if
I let myself drown under my emotions. As I left the room with the guard,
the other two rejoined us. The halls all looked the same, but I counted my
steps and the turns. I also needed time to plan. Security here seemed to
be anything but lax. I would talk to this Kenny and get a better idea of
the situation. 

 And Kenny would pay. 

 The office they led me to didn't match the rest of the institution. It
was airy, roomy, almost cheerful. The lamps here provided a warm, golden
light. Very different from the conditions my Ray suffered under. 

 "Constable Fraser, Ben. Have a seat," the man said in a friendly fashion.
The desk he sat at lacked a nameplate to identify him. 

 "I'd prefer to stand, thank you." The psychology of power could be
useful. I noticed that the guards left and closed the door behind us. 

 "If that suits you better." The man--perhaps Ray's Kenny?-- continued to
smile, an expression becoming less welcome by the moment. "Look at you.
You could be a recruitment poster. The public has gotten some romantic
ideas about you since your dispatch of the Muldoon situation. You're
physically attractive, and you have a certain idealist, pioneer spirit.
Even your wolf is photogenic. You're a credit to your uniform and could be
more so if only your superiors had the slightest idea of how to best
utilize you instead of wasting you in exile in Chicago." 

 "Thank you," I said as I wondered where this was going. 

 Calm. A display of rage wouldn't impress a man such as this to do
anything beyond letting the guards back in. I schooled my face to
stillness and tried to school my mind to it as well. Calm and cold. I
would think better that way. 

 "The problem seems to come in leashing that idealism of yours." 

 And here it came. "Sir?" 

 "I've studied you, Ben, so your oblivious routine does nothing for me,
but I will become more specific. Some people we could pay off. Promise
them that their family will be safe and that we will let their loved ones
stay free. You, you have a long history of putting yourself and others at
risk for your ideals. Thus, we have to take a more pro-active approach in
keeping you under control. You only have yourself to blame." 

 "I refuse to accept that." Factions of my country were illegally holding
citizens hostage, and it was our fault? 

 "Of course you do. We knew that you would from our study of you. You're a
man of few physical attachments, an ascetic, and most of the people you
formed some links to were Yanks, a problem until recently." He sat back.
"Now it is our boon. Detective Kowalski's legal status can easily become
very hazy." 

 Something cold squirmed in my stomach. "He is an American citizen." 

 "One we can make disappear very easily. We already have. Witnesses to his
erratic behavior can be produced from any of the towns you stayed at." 

 Normally I could play this game longer, but the memory of a deeply
drugged Ray confused and strapped to a bed burned. "Is that a threat,
sir?" 

 "We have no need to threaten. I'm merely stating facts. We're not
official. That way the government can disavow anything we do, and we don't
have watchdogs looking over our shoulder. It's very freeing." 

 "You had no reason to treat him as you have while he's been in your
custody. I couldn't trust his safety to you even if I felt inclined to do
so." 

 "It was unfortunate but necessary. We personally find this distasteful
ourselves, but you know what duty is like, Constable Fraser. Your partner
is volatile." 

 Not that volatile, dammit. "Please don't insult me or him." 

 "Yet our treatment of him has uncovered something that may facilitate his
citizenship." 

 The switch from stick to carrot left me momentarily stunned. "What on
earth are you talking about?" 

 "His abilities. Perhaps our intelligence on him was incorrect or out of
date, or it may be that the drugs broke through to something he'd always
possessed. His talents are wild, utterly untrained, and may well require
the application of sedation to use--" he smiled deeper as I bristled, "but
very much there." 

 Oh, Ray. "What talents would these be?" 

 "Enhanced intuition. Mild precognition and what seems to be telekinesis.
He talks with something only he can see that may be a drug-induced
hallucination but might not. Department H is quite interested." 

 Department H was said to work on developing paranormal operatives. I'd
heard stories of their zeal for driving on until they achieved results.
"He'll want no part of that. In any case, he isn't even Canadian." I would
take him home. To his home. 

 "Yet his talents manifested while he was here, making them Canadian." 

 I almost snorted. "That may be the most ridiculous nonsense I've ever
heard, and that is in a long life of hearing nonsense." 

 "Ben, Ray could stay with us in his current capacity, or he could take a
position at Department H and gain Canadian citizenship and all of its
advantages. Which do you think will be more beneficial to him and you in
the long run?" 

 Unknowingly, he slapped me in the face with my own selfishness. My own
former selfishness. 

 "I will tear this building down around your head first," I growled. 

 "I think not. It wouldn't be wise. We're under surveillance at this very
moment. I could make one gesture, twitch even, and Ray's IV line could be
filled with something far more dangerous than his current cocktail. We're
only asking you to serve your country, Ben."  

 I pulled restlessly at the leather straps. Parts of me kept thinking that
maybe I'd imagined Ben being here--I had before--but I could feel him too.
He hadn't gone far. But he was in pain.... 

 "That's for sure," One for Sorrow said, a heavy weight on my chest.
"They're using you as a bargaining chip against him. Speaking of
bargaining, are you sure you don't want me to get you out of here so they
can't do that to him?" 

 They couldn't do that. I wouldn't let them. I had to get out. 

 I felt a sharp, ripping pain, with sparks behind my eyes, at the thought
of it. The strap on my right wrist snapped, making One for Sorrow hop off
my chest to the bedpost when my freed arm flew up. "Maybe I don't need you
after all, Big Bird." 

 "You shouldn't be able to do that now." 

 As opposed to when? 

 It hurt like hell, but so did punching a wall. If I just needed to rip
and spark a little to get free.... 

 Rip... and the one at my left wrist snapped too. "Oh, yeah?" 

 Sitting up gave me a head rush to beat all head rushes, but I had a job
to do, and the anger of seeing Ben's folks trying to screw him over again
and trying to use me to do it cut through the haze a bit. When it looked
like I only had one IV in my arm instead of two, I pulled it out, gritting
my teeth at the pain. The feeling I got when the ankle shackles snapped
reminded me of how it felt the time I broke my arm when I was
eight--weird, deep, and sick, almost blinding--but I couldn't stop now. 

 The floor swam beneath my feet, and the walls wavered. My knees felt like
they had Jell-O in them. 

 "How are you going to get out?" One for Sorrow asked, sounding curious
now instead of taunting. 

 The door blew off its hinges in a small storm of sparks, and it didn't
hurt at all. "Like that?" 

 "You're a true son of chaos, hatchling," the raven said as he settled on
my left shoulder, heavy, but he smelled of summer and winter instead of
stale, institution air and suffering, so I didn't mind much. 

 Three armed guards, guns drawn, waited on the other side of the door, but
they didn't look very brave. Right now they just pissed me off. I was
bringing this whole place down. 

 "Get back in the room," the head guy said. 

 "Fuck off," I answered and blew doors off the cells all the way down the
hall, distracting the guards. 

 I punched out two, then somehow knocked the last one into the wall in a
way that I didn't understand. Whatever. They were out cold. My right
eyebrow kind of burned and stung, and when I touched it my fingers came
away bloody. It didn't feel real. 

 In the halls, other detainees wandered around, some saner and soberer
than others were. "Hey!" I said. "Make your way out. If your neighbors
can't make it out on his or her own power, help 'em. Get help outside.
Make a lot of noise." 

 A sound like popping corn made me look up, and I saw the overhead
fluorescent bulbs and wall-mounted cameras blowing up. This was cool. One
for Sorrow cackled. 

 "Where are you going?" a woman asked. 

 Blinking the red haze of blood out of my eye, I said, "I gotta date with
Kenny." 

 "You have a big black bird on your shoulder." 

 Hunh. She saw the raven. "I know. Get out before more guards show up.
Get. Out." And I turned away, because I didn't have the time for this, not
with Kenny somewhere else pulling Ben's wings off. 

 I didn't know where Kenny was, not even with Ben with him, but I figured
that my rubber knees could hold me up long enough, even while I had a big
black bird on his shoulder, to search the swaying halls that looked
different depending on which eye I looked at them through. Kenny had some
things to pay for, and I was coming to collect.  

 "You didn't make it easy to find you," I said, fighting the urge to
snarl. "I'm surprised. I would figure that the whole point would rest in
me finding Ray and learning what you wanted me to do." 

 "You needed to know how much you would miss your friend, so you'd---" The
lights flickered overhead, leaving my tormentor looking worried.
"That's--" 

 Something crashed behind me. I turned to see Ray standing in the suddenly
empty doorway, with the door lying on the floor. His eyes wide and wild,
Ray looked utterly insane, especially with the dark chafe marks on his
wrists and bright blood sluggishly trickling down the right side of his
face and onto the white of his shirt. "Hey, Benny-Ben. Hey, Kenny-Ken." 

 Kenny had a gun in his hand for only seconds before he cried out in pain
as it was ripped from his hand by an invisible force, going off as it hit
the wall. He grunted as it shot him, blood blooming from the side of his
neck. However, he hadn't been dealt a killing shot, merely a superficial
wound. 

 Before I could even move, Ray had run toward the desk, leapt up onto it
with almost inhuman grace, grabbed Kenny by his tie, and crouched there,
barefoot, holding him up close. "Ray--" I started. When Ray shook his head
almost convulsively, I fell into the seat I'd been offered at the
beginning of the interview. A... force kept me pinned there. "Ray!" I
shouted as I struggled against it, trying to stand. 

 "I wouldn't call his attention at the moment," a coarse voice said from
near my shoulder. A large raven sat atop the back of the chair. "Might not
be healthy." 

 Good God. 

 "Some have called me that," it said. "I'm not used to you being able to
see me outside of dreamtime. Hey, how many feathers am I holding up?" It
cackled and preened. "You know, I could get used to this. Sit back and
enjoy the show. They put him in the worst place for someone with his
sensitivities, and now it's time to reap what they've sown." 

 "I set everybody free, Kenny," Ray said. "All the people you drugged up
and bound up and raped and fucked with, they're on their way out. It's
gonna be a big, messy scene when they get outside. Lots of attention." 

 "You're not a killer, Ray," I said, although I certainly would not mind
making Kenny pay the final price for what he'd done. But I didn't want Ray
to do it. I feared for him. 

 "Think I killed some guys on the way over here. Hard to say. Like this."
Ray waved one hand a little, and a bookshelf fell over. Kenny choked and
bled a little faster as he dangled from Ray's other hand. 

 I thought I'd feared for him before? I could run hysterical later over
how Ray did all this, on how so much I'd dismissed was in fact truth. 

 I wasn't so shocked that I missed how the pressure on me had lifted a
bit. I would get out of this chair and help him. 

 "Ray--" 

 Ray's eyes were wild and dilated. "You think there's justice for this guy
and his cronies? You know how much he's gotten away with over the years?
How many people he's hurt? How much he fucking gets off on it?" 

 I saw the guard appear at the open doorway and raise his gun, aiming for
Ray. Pulling the boot knife I'd secreted, I yelled to distract and slow
the man, then threw for his throat even as I threw myself toward Ray to
sweep him out of the way. But Ray had already let go of Kenny and started
to fall backwards as if thrown aside, out of the path of the coming
bullet. I heard the bang of the gun going off and a gurgle but didn't stop
to interpret it, not when I had all my focus on Ray, grabbing him and
cushioning his fall with my own body. 

 A trickle of blood ran from his right nostril, making me check
frantically for bullet wounds, but I found none. He turned his head
against my neck and murmured sleepily, "It's over here. No more guards in
this section." 

 Kenny was slumped, quite dead, atop his desk. He had a messy exit wound
in his back to go along with the gash in his neck. Raven danced across his
desk, then faded away, smudging from glossy bird to thin shadow to nothing
at all. I could swear I heard him say, "You can thank me for his life
later," before he disappeared. The guard who'd unknowingly shot his
supervisor was sprawled along the floor with my knife in his throat. That
gave me far too much satisfaction. 

 They'd studied me, and the domesticated Constable Benton Fraser of record
wouldn't secrete a knife in his boot, so they hadn't checked. I'd schooled
my mind to reflect that Constable Fraser so well as they'd frisked me that
I hadn't even let the thought of that knife cross my brain. They hadn't
realized that where Ray was concerned, I was a different person. I would
not be anything less than fierce in defense of my loved ones. 

 Holding tightly to Ray with one arm, unwilling to let him go, I pulled
Kenny's phone across the desk with the other. I would call my people to
get an investigation initiated here. I learned. 

 And they wouldn't be allowed to take Ray out of my sight. 

 He slept quietly, peacefully, in my arms until the authorities came,
though he still looked exhausted when he woke, with nothing uncanny about
him. I spent the waiting time watching him and thinking.  

 Ray looked normal, if tired, as he gave his statement to the authorities,
but the moment we were done and out of plain sight, he slumped against the
alley wall, pulling himself down into the shelter of his borrowed coat
like a turtle into its shell. "God, I wanna cigarette," he slurred. 

 "You don't smoke," I replied numbly. 

 Ray smiled a little. "Not in years, no, but I wanna now. Not even sure
who I am right now...." Though he certainly seemed like the Ray I knew.
Dief nosed his hand. 

 I gently pulled at Ray until he leaned against my side instead of the
wall and put my arm around him. Too proud, he'd refused my physical
support while he gave his statement, but I understood that kind of pride
and couldn't repudiate it. 

 "You're Detective Ray Kowalski, my partner, my lover, and my friend." He
felt like a bundle of sticks against me. "And I love you." 

 He sighed in contentment, then said, "They're using this, you know." Ray
looked tired and pale, his skin color matching the white of the gauze
bandage covering the wound on his brow. A blood vessel had broken in his
left eye, leaving a small red spot in the white sclera. "They're saying
they were attacked and ransacked by some other country's operatives. Using
it as proof that they need more money. And with all the electromagnetic
shit I had going on around me--" 

 "Electromagnetic?" I had to ask. 

 Ray shrugged. "Blew out the camera and computer records in there. Tapes
and drives wiped clean. If we're lucky, maybe they kept all the data on me
in-house. I don't understand it any better than you do. You look worried,
Ben." 

 "I am worried." 

 "Don't worry. I think I burnt myself out a bit, and I couldn't bend a
spoon right now. At least I got you to believe me." 

 The thought of him believing that I thought him an insane liar after all
of this appalled me. "Ray, that's not what I'm worried about. I'm worried
about you, but not in that way. I know now that you're simply attuned to
things that most people aren't aware of. I saw Raven. I should have
believed you, Ray, but I've spent so much time denying the uncanny things
I've seen that I've locked myself into a habit of denial." 

 When Ray closed his eyes, the slim, tired smile that crossed his face
looked anything but happy at having been proven right. "I don't remember
everything that happened. There are these holes.... Think I killed a few
people." He took a deep breath. "Think I liked it. At the time." 

 "And you wonder why I'm worried about you." 

 Constable Matthew Cross passed our alley, sparing us only a glance. He'd
arrived with the other officers, looking ostentatiously innocent. I'd
retrieved my knife earlier and felt the urge to use it. 

 "He'll get his," Ray said, then opened his eyes and asked, "You wanna
take me home, Ben?" before I could make a comment back. 

 "Beyond a doubt, Ray." 

 "You think we'll get there without any other evildoers getting in the
way?" 

 "It's hard to say." Missing our old way of relating to one another, I
hesitantly asked, "Can't you see it?" 

 Ray heard the tease and smiled a little. "Funny guy." 

 "Unfortunately, I believe that we'll be forced to remain in Canada at
least until preliminary investigations are done. I'm sorry." I hated to
have to tell him that. I would have rather lied. "Whatever help you need
with your sensitivities, I shall do my best to provide." 

 Ray leaned harder on me, seemingly weakened by those words. "Can you at
least take me away from here?" 

 "Ray," I whispered, "I shall remain a constable through this
investigation and Muldoon's trial, the better to take advantage of the
resources attached to the position, but after that I shall resign. I
refuse to serve any authority that would allow this to happen to you.
Tonight I'm bringing you home, but sometime in the future you'll be
bringing me home. With you." I took a deep breath. "If you still want to
after this." 

 "You've always been a Mountie." 

 "My father is gone. Completely now. You're alive, and so am I, and I'd
like dearly to keep us that way." I shook my head but couldn't think of a
clearer way to express myself. How could Ray understand what I meant? 

 Yet Ray seemed to. "Together, huh?" 

 "Yes. Dear god, yes." 

 Ray's lips tasted faintly bloody, but he felt so hot and so good in my
arms, and a kiss and tight embrace made far more direct statements than
anything I could have managed. 

 **********************THE END********************* 

 More Viridian5 stories can be found in The Green Room version 2.0 at
http://www.mrks.org/~viridian/ 

 No-frames but no-frills access available at
http://www.mrks.org/~viridian/Viridian_side.htm 

 Fandoms represented: due South, Hard Core Logo, Twitch City, Andromeda,
X-Files, Once a Thief, the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie, Angel, Two Guys
and a Girl (was Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place), X-Men, Smallville,
Doctor Who, Fight Club, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine 

End Neverland by Viridian5: Viridian5@aol.com

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