Standard disclaimers: I don't own these characters. More's the pity. I
only borrowed them for a little while for my own amusement. No money
changed hands...also a pity.  

 Story summary: Fraser finds out why RayK is afraid of hospitals.  

 Background: This story started out as a random thought as to why
hospitals, and morgues would both cause RayK to freak out. And the idea
sort of grew into this. This is my first attempt at Due South fan fiction.
So please keep slings and arrows to a minium. I would appreciate
feedback...suggestions for improvement, where you think I went wrong, what
you liked, or didn't like as the case may be. Katherine_Lehman@blm.gov 

  

Thank You: to Chysothemis....she read this and assured me it didn't suck.
She also provided an incredible about of constructive input. Thanks to her
this story turned out much better than it would have otherwise.   Memories
That Linger  

The "in" basket on Constable Benton Fraser's desk was finally empty. Every
necessary form was completed, in triplicate, ready for the Inspector's
signature. Fraser suppressed a sigh that was a mixture of relief and
satisfaction. Lately he found himself almost resenting the time needed to
attend to consular duties. They took away time he could be spending with
his partner, Ray Kowalski.   

 The cases they worked together, while often bordering on the bizarre,
were totally engaging in a way the simple duties of the consulate could
never be. It wasn't even the cases that necessarily captivated Fraser.
While bringing miscreants to justice was rewarding, it was the time spent
with his best friend that Fraser truly enjoyed.   

Not that they had started out as friends, Fraser thought with a smile,
preparing to leave the consulate. Thinking about his first meeting with
Detective Stanley Raymond Kowalski, Ray to his friends, always left Fraser
feeling a mixture of sorrow and excitement. When he'd returned from
vacation, Fraser hadn't known that his friend and partner, Ray Vecchio,
had gone under cover with the mob. He hadn't known that Kowalski had
assumed Vecchio's name and duties, ensuring there was no vacancy that
might endanger Vecchio's cover.   

Even now, the lengths he'd gone to, trying to prove that Ray Kowalski was
not Ray Vecchio made Fraser shake his head in bemusement. Once everything
had been explained, Fraser established a working rapport with Kowalski
that was as good or better than the one he'd had with Vecchio. In addition
to solving cases together, they shared meals, going to the movies,
exploring the sites of Chicago, and just "hangin' out" as Ray called it.  


For the past week he hadn't been able to work his way free of the
consulate. He'd only spoken to Ray twice in the past few days, and he
missed their conversations. So it was with an inner excitement, and an
outward calm that Fraser entered the bustling squad room looking for his
spiky-haired friend. Fraser ignored the usual chaos of the squad room. Ray
should be at his desk, but it was vacant. A quick scan of the room
revealed no Ray. Jack Huey and Tom Dewey were missing as well so perhaps
Francesca could fill him in on the location of his partner.   

He approached her desk with a small amount of trepidation. Francesca made
no secret of her desire to get to know Benton Fraser intimately. Her
flirtation always made him extremely uncomfortable. He simply didn't know
how to respond to her many attempts. He didn't want to offend her, or God
forbid encourage her, so he chose to play dumb hoping that eventually she
would cease.   

"Excuse me, Francesca."   

"Hi, Frase. What can I do for you?" Francesca straightened slightly
allowing her cropped top to better display her figure, and batted her eyes
at him.   

Fraser cleared his throat. "Do you happen to know where Ray might be?"	

"Yeah. He went with the Duck Boys. They're after some goon and wanted back
up."  

"I see. Do you know when they will return?"  

She shrugged and shook her head. "They left about an hour ago. Could be
back any time."  

"Thank you kindly Francesca." Fraser retreated to Ray's desk to wait. He
browsed over the files stacked in haphazard fashion on the top. Despite
their disorganized appearance, Fraser knew Ray could find what he wanted
from any one of them in a moments notice. It was mind boggling that he
could work so well with such apparent disorder. Fraser smiled slightly and
shook his head.   

Ray was a complex puzzle that Fraser felt he would never totally
understand. He had an uncanny instinctive grasp of problems, often
arriving at the same conclusion Fraser had used meticulous logic to
achieve. His quicksilver mind jumped from one thought to another with no
apparent connection, leaving Fraser feeling like his own thoughts were a
either step ahead or behind his partner's. Ray expressed extreme, but
often transient, emotions that allowed him to shift from anger to joy with
blinding speed. He was energetic, seeming to be almost constantly in
motion, with that energy almost always directed, channeled, or focused on
something or someone. Kowalski presented an outward appearance of a
hardened, cynical cop, but inside he was a caring, compassionate man. It
was these contrasts, these apparent contradictions, that made working with
Ray both a delight and a challenge.  

A sudden loud crash near the doors caused Fraser to look up just in time
to see Huey and Dewey wrestling with a giant of a man. The suspect dwarfed
both men. He was well over six feet tall and had a build that suggested
many, many hours in the gym lifting weights. Despite his hands being
cuffed behind him the man continued to struggle rather effectively. He was
also shouting at the top of his lungs.	 

"Fucking pigs. I'll kill you!! Just wait til I get my hands free. I'm
gonna fucking kill you!!"  

With a tremendous heave the suspect was able to dislodge both Huey and
Dewey. He turned to snarl at the room at large and then seemed ready to
make good on his threat by raising a boot to kick Huey in the head. It was
at that moment that Ray made an appearance. With one swift, decisive
movement Ray kicked out with his right leg, catching the giant behind the
knees, knocking both legs out from under him. Having brought the giant
down to his level, Ray reached over his head to lock his forearm across
suspect's throat and begin to choke him. Huey and Dewey reentered the
fray, preventing the suspect of dislodging Ray.   

Several uniform officers stood by ready and waiting to help should the
suspect manage to once again break the hold of all three detectives. It
was only moments after Ray began applying the choke hold that the giant
finally succumbed and collapsed, lying still. The entire room breathed a
collective sigh of relief. Uniformed officers immediately surged forward
to haul the suspect to a holding cell.	

"Vecchio! Dewey! Huey! Just what in the hell is going on here?!!"
Lieutenant Welsh shouted from his office. His voice carrying sharply
across the sudden silence.  

Huey continued to watch the suspect warily, never taking his eyes off the
still form being manhandled out of the room. Pausing briefly to breath
before he answered his superior. "We brought that goon in for questioning.
He just didn't want to come quietly."	

"I see." Welsh paused to look over his three detectives. "You guys okay?" 


Fraser ignored Tom and Jack's answers of "We're fine." to that query. He
was too busy focusing on Ray. The slender, blonde detective was leaning
heavily against a nearby desk. He sported a black eye that was beginning
to swell, a split lip, and he was holding his left arm tight to his side.
He seemed to be breathing shallowly. His entire countenance spoke of pain.
 

"Ray. Ray. Ray?" Fraser waited for his partner to look at him. "Are you
all right?"  

Ray panted slightly. "Oh yeah, I'm good. Just great."	

"Detective Vecchio. You do not look great." Welsh stalked out from his
office to look closely at Ray. He took in the bruises, the way Ray was
standing, and his suddenly pale complexion. "Fraser sit him down somewhere
before he passes out."	 

Fraser had also noticed that Ray was rapidly losing color, his bruises
standing out dramatically against his now decidedly white complexion.
Despite Ray's faint protests, Fraser got him seated in the closest chair. 


"You two go wait in my office. I'm going to want the whole story." Welsh
demanded looking hard at Huey and Dewey. They glanced at each other
briefly before heading for the Lieutenant's office.  

  

"Vecchio."  

"Yeah?" Ray tried to stand but Fraser's hand on his shoulder was enough to
prevent that movement.	

"Go to the hospital. Let them look you over."  

"I'm fine...sir." Ray protested weakly. "I don't...need--"  

"That was an order Vecchio. Not a suggestion." Sensing Ray would only
protest again, Welsh looked at Fraser. "Constable I'll leave him in your
capable hands. See to it that he gets to the hospital. And don't let him
come back unless they give him a clean bill of health. Got it?"  

"Understood sir."  

  

 Fraser gently helped Ray stand. It spoke volumes that Ray let him help at
all. Normally he would simply have shrugged off any effort to assist. Ray
leaned heavily into Fraser for just moment, gasping slightly. Fraser
watched as he swallowed hard.	

"Sorry...Benton buddy. Got a little...dizzy there."   

Ray made an effort to straighten up and stand on his own. But Fraser
continued to support him refusing to let go.  

"Its okay, Ray. I've got you. Let's get you to the hospital. Okay?"  

"Look, Frase. I don't need a hospital. I'm good. Honest."  

Fraser shot an appraising look over his friend. "I'd have to agree with
the Leftenant, Ray. You don't look good."  

Ray sighed. "Okay. How bout ya just take me home then?"  

"You heard the Leftenant Ray. Going to the hospital was an order not a
suggestion."  

"I hate hospitals Fraser. Ya sure I couldn't...just go home?"  

"The hospital, Ray. It will be fine, I promise."  

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

They had arrived at the emergency room almost thirty minutes ago. Fraser
had reported their presence to the duty nurse. He'd received several forms
for his trouble. Having filled in all the blanks and returned the forms
there was nothing else to do but wait. Fraser struggled against his rising
impatience. He wanted someone to take care of Ray immediately. He didn't
want his friend to suffer any longer than absolutely necessary.  

Despite Ray's casual slouch in the chair next to him, Fraser could feel
the tension radiating off his partner. Ray still looked decidedly pale,
and he was trembling slightly. But his breathing had improved so that even
though he was still breathing shallowly, he was no longer panting. His
black eye had swollen almost completely closed. At Fraser's concerned look
and he smiled slightly.  

"Don't worry Frase. I've had worse."  

Before Fraser could reply a nurse armed with a clip board loudly called
for Ray Vecchio. Ray and Fraser rose. Together they made their way to the
nurse. She moved forward to lightly grasp Ray's left arm at the elbow.	 

"I am sorry, sir" she said, directing her comments to Fraser, "but you're
going to have to wait here. I'll take it from here." Her tone was polite
but firm.   

"No." Ray's voice was equally firm. "He's comin' with me."   

"Sir, our regulations require that family and friends wait here." Thinking
the matter settled, she attempted to lead Ray away, but he refused to
move. He shrugged off her hold, wincing as he did so.  

"I don't give a rat's ass about yer regulations. He. Is . Coming. With.
Me. Understand?"  

Fraser tried to defuse the situation before it got out of hand. "Ray, it's
all right. I can wait here."  

Ray stubbornly shook his head no. It wasn't until then that Fraser
realized his friend had a white knuckled death grip on his jacket. That he
had, in fact, held on the entire time they'd been waiting. Suddenly Fraser
understood. The tension he had nothing to do with pain, but fear.   

Ray had mentioned before that hospitals freaked him out. The detective had
put hospitals and the morgue in the same category. Fraser suspected it was
only his presence that kept Ray from panicking outright. Unfortunately,
Fraser knew it wouldn't going to take long for his volatile partner to go
from being afraid to being afraid to being angry.   

"Are you certain that you couldn't make an exception to your regulations
in this case Miss...," a quick glance at her name tag, "Enders? It would
make things easier for Detective Vecchio if I were present."  

"I'm sorry, sir. But,"	

"Is there someone else I could talk to? Your superior perhaps?" Fraser
knew cutting her off was being rude, but it wasn't without good reason. He
was afraid if he couldn't accompany Ray into the examination room that the
detective would refuse to go. Being rude was a small price to pay for
seeing to it Ray was properly taken care of. Fraser made a mental note to
apologize later.  

The nurse opened her mouth to make an angry retort when at that moment, a
tall, grey-haired man dressed in green scrubs and a white lab coat
approached, his head buried in a file. "Carol, have you seen the..." He
trailed off when he glanced up to see the three of them. He abruptly
closed the file. His expression a mixture of concern and puzzlement. "Is
there a problem?"   

Nurse Enders was the first to answer. "Detective Vecchio wants his friend
to accompany him. I've been trying to explain that it is against
regulation, Doctor Marsh. His friend will simply have to wait here."  

"Either he goes with me, or I don't go. Simple as that." Ray's voice was
flat. There was a finality in his voice that indicated he meant what he
said.	

Doctor Marsh stepped forward. He frowned thoughtfully at Ray. He took in
Ray's battered condition, his rapid breathing, the faint sheen of sweat
coating his face, and his slight tremble. Fraser noted the doctor did not
miss the incredibly tight hold Ray had on his Red Serge or the fact that
Ray had stepped back and to the side so that he was slightly behind
Fraser. Marsh's warm brown eyes made contact with Fraser's.  

"What is your relationship to Detective Vecchio , Mr....ah...?"   

"Fraser, sir. Constable Benton Fraser of the RCMP. I first came to Chicago
on the trail of my father's killers, and for reasons that don't need
exploring at this juncture I have remained attached to the Canadian
Consulate as a liaison. I am detective Vecchio's ....well, his partner,
sir. Unofficially, of course."	

"I see." There was a small pause. "Am I right in assuming that Detective
Vecchio was injured then in pursuit of a suspected criminal?"  

"That is correct, sir."  

"The suspect will be charged with assaulting an officer then?"	 

"Ray?" It hadn't occurred to Fraser that might even be a possibility.	

Ray gave a one shouldered shrug, looking at Marsh for the first time, his
expression slightly wary. "Yeah, he could be charged with assault. Sort of
depends on my boss."   

Dr. Marsh nodded slightly, then smiled gently at Ray. "In that case....
Carol I don't see why the Detective's 'unofficial' partner can't accompany
him. After all, he might need to testify as to the nature of the injuries
his partner suffered. Please take Mr. Vecchio and Mr. Fraser back to
curtain three. I'll be with them in a moment."	 

Once they were alone and secluded behind the curtain, Fraser helped Ray up
on the exam table. Fraser's. Ray maintained his death grip on Fraser's
jacket.   

"Ray. " Fraser placed one hand around his wrist gently. "You're going to
have to let go or I won't be able to get your shirt off."  

"What? Oh, right." Ray took a deep breath, and with every indication of
reluctance, unclenched his fingers, letting go of Fraser's jacket. He
looked at the floor, embarrassed, and then up to meet Fraser's gaze.   

"I'm sorry Frase."   

"For what, Ray?"   

"For making you....for needing to have you come with me. It's just that
hospitals just....well they give me the willies." Ray took another deep
breath, and shuddered. "I hate hospitals. This place is worse than going
to the cold meat party with Mort."  

Fraser nodded his understanding. " It's all right, Ray. I don't mind
staying with you. "  

"Are you sure? I mean I know you would stay and everything, cause you're
polite and it wasn't like you could leave anyway. What with the grip I had
on you and all. I'm okay now. You don't have to hang around. I mean you
can leave if you-- "  

"I intend to stay with you. You are my friend and I'll stay as long as you
need me too. It is that simple Ray." Ray's slightly fearful, definitely
anxious eyes searched Fraser's. Whatever he found there made him relax and
smile shyly.   

"Thanks Frase."   

"You are very welcome. Now let's just get your shirt off before the doctor
comes in, okay?"  

"Sure thing."  

It was obvious that it was difficult and painful for Ray to lift his left
arm away from his body. Once Ray's holster and shirt had been removed
Fraser could see why. His left side and part of his back were mottled with
bruises. Fraser winced sympathetically. He knew first hand what Ray had to
be feeling. Before he could say or do anything else, Dr. Marsh entered.  

Ray stiffened, caught off guard by the doctor's sudden appearance. Fraser
sensed that whatever degree of calm Ray had managed to marshal was about
to be lost. He reached out, took Ray's right hand, and placed it on his
arm. He hoped that physical contact would give Ray some measure of
reassurance. Ray reacted by grasping so tightly his grip was almost
painful, never taking his eyes of the doctor.  

 "Let's take a look at you, shall we, Detective?"  

Fraser ignored the routine questions that confirmed information he'd
already written on the forms he'd been given earlier His focus was his
partner. If this relatively simple visit was enough to give Ray the
'willies', Fraser couldn't help but wonder how Ray had managed to get
through other visits to the hospital. Ray's record indicated he'd been
wounded in the line of duty more than once. Maybe he'd been unconscious
those times, or perhaps someone else to be there with him just as Fraser
was here for him now.	

Fraser found himself wondering who else Ray might have trusted. What he
knew of Ray seemed to indicate that he didn't trust very many people. It
was unlikely he would have voluntarily told anyone he how much being in
hospitals disturbed him. In the two years they'd worked together, Fraser
found that Ray could be extraordinarily tight lipped about personal
things. Fraser suspect only he and Mort knew how Ray really felt about the
morgue. And Fraser was certain that if they hadn't worked cases together
that involved much of Ray's past, hadn't come to depend on one another,
there would be a great many things he would never have learned about
Stanley Raymond Kowalski.   

Fraser felt blessed knowing that Ray trusted him. Trusted him, not just to
do the right thing, or to be sufficient back-up, but with those things he
shared with no one else. Still, he couldn't help but wonder who else Ray
had blessed with his trust and with his friendship.   

Ray's expression, his eyes following every move the doctor made, was a
mixture of pain, fear and determination. He sat completely motionless. He
spoke only to answer questions, supplying no more than the minimal
information needed. Yes, that was his full name and address. No, he was
not allergic to anything. Yes, he had a headache. No, he wasn't dizzy.
Yes, his ribs hurt. No, nothing else hurt. The only time he gave a more
detailed answer was when Dr. Marsh wanted specifics on how he'd been
injured.  

"Goin' after the perp. Two cops had the front, I had the back. Just my
luck the guy went for the back. He clipped me with the door on his way
out, then took a swing at me. " Ray gestured toward his black eye and
split lip. "We sort of ended up on the stairs. He took another swing.
Missed. And we both took a header down stairs."   

The exam continued for several more minutes. A few tests were run. Through
it all Ray's tight grip on Fraser relinquished only long enough for X-rays
to be taken. Fraser was starting to lose feeling in his fingers and
suspected he'd have bruises of his own soon. He'd known that Ray's slender
frame wasn't as fragile as it appeared, but he'd never realized just how
strong his partner was. He was certain that he couldn't have pulled away,
even if he'd wanted to.  

The final prognosis was that Ray had a mild concussion, and several
cracked ribs. Other than being stiff and sore for several days, and
needing to be careful of his ribs for a few weeks, he would be fine.  

  

"Great. So when can I leave?" 

  

"Although it is only a mild concussion, you will need someone to check on
you...someone who can wake you every two hours, make sure you don't
suddenly get dizzy and fall, or begin vomiting. Do you have someone who
can stay with you?"  

Ray shook his head. "I live alone. But I've taken hits ta the head before,
Doc. I don't need a baby-sitter."  

"If there isn't anyone who can stay with you perhaps you should consider
spending the night here for observation."   

Fraser winced when Ray's grip went from being merely tight to vice like at
the doctors suggestion.   

"No way. No how. Nothin' doin' doc. I am not spending tonight here."  

  

"I'll stay with him." Fraser quickly volunteered. At his offer to stay,
Ray shot him a grateful look, and his grip relaxed.. Dr. Marsh looked
quickly from one to the other, and then nodded.   

"Very well. As soon as I have someone wrap your ribs for you, and get you
a prescription for the pain, you can be on your way." 

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

Leaving the hospital behind with a sigh of relief, Ray had slumped stiffly
in the passenger seat of the GTO, his eyes closed. He looked more
exhausted than Fraser could remember ever seeing him. And he didn't make a
single comment about Fraser's driving. That fact, more than his near panic
state in the hospital, had Fraser watching Ray from the corner of his eye.
 

"Relax, Fraser. I'm not goin' ta wig out on you anymore." Fraser couldn't
figure out how Ray, with his eyes closed, had known he was looking. And he
wasn't totally sure what Ray meant by 'wig out'. "You should keep your
eyes on the road. I don't want you to hit anything with my car."  

Fraser's response to that was cut off by the ringing of Ray's cell phone. 
 

"Vecchio."  

Fraser could make out Welsh's voice on the other end but not what was
being said. For once the gruff Lieutenant wasn't yelling.   

"We're on our way back to the station." A short pause. "No, sir." Another
pause. "Yes, sir." A longer pause this time. "Yes, sir." Ray started to
protest to something Welsh was saying, but was cut off, finally responding
with an "Three bags full, sir." Ray cut the connection and returned the
phone to his jacket pocket.  

"Ray. Ray. Ray. Ray?" Ray opened tired blue eyes to meet Fraser's.   

"Yeah, Frase."	

"What did the Leftenant have to say?"  

"Long an' short of it....My shift is supposed to end in twenty minutes,
and he doesn't want to see me around the station again until tomorrow. He
called the hospital, and talked ta the doc." Ray sighed, rubbed a hand
over his face, and through his hair. "He's got Huey and Dewey's statements
on what happened, and he wants mine....just not today. So, you can just
take me home."	 

"Certainly, Ray."  

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Once in his apartment, Ray
shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it carelessly on to the back of a
chair. Fraser resisted the impulse to retrieve it and hang it up.   

"You want something ta drink, Frase? I got coffee, juice, water... I think
I even have tea. Not that bark stuff though. Gary something. "	

"Do you mean Earl Grey?"  

"Yeah. Grey. That's it. "  

"Tea would be fine, Ray. Thank you kindly." Fraser glanced around the
apartment, noticing that there were no dishes in the sink, the coffee
table was clear, and the entire place was...well neat. Tidy even.  

"Ray?"	

Ray glanced up from the sink where he was filling the teapot with water.
"Your apartment...not that there is anything wrong with it before...but
it's.. Ah." Fraser cracked his neck to one side. "It's...well it's neat." 


Ray flashed a quick grin. "My mum. I told her not to iron my shirts
anymore, so now she comes in once a week to clean the place." Ray placed
the kettle on the stove. "Go ahead and make yourself ta home. Take your
coat off and stay awhile."  

Fraser removed his red serge jacket, taking a hanger from the closet to
hang it up. He couldn't simply fling it over the chair as Ray had done
with his. It wouldn't be right to be so careless with his uniform. Fraser
shoved the sleeves of his henley up to his elbows. Ray's apartment was
usually warmer than Fraser was totally comfortable with.   

"Go sit down somewhere Fraser. I'll bring the tea in when its ready."  

Ray followed him into the living room a few minutes later. He placed two
mugs on the coffee table before turning to the CD player. Fraser didn't
recognize the artist, but whatever it was Ray had selected was soothing,
mellow.  

Fraser had waited politely for Ray to sit down before reaching for his
mug. His reach was halted abruptly by Ray. Ray turned his arm over gently,
sucking in a breath as he did so. A hand shaped bruise was darkening the
pale skin of Fraser's arm just above his wrist. Ray's concerned eyes, and
slightly guilty expression riveted to Fraser's face.  

"Damn, Fraser." He whispered "Why didn't you tell me I was hurtin' you? I
woulda let go."  

"It's okay, Ray. Really. It's just a bruise." Fraser tried to dismiss it,
but Ray wouldn't let him.  

"I *hurt* you. That's not okay, Fraser."  

"I know you didn't mean to grip me so tightly, Ray. You were..."Fraser
paused, knowing that saying he knew Ray was close to out right panic in
the hospital wasn't going to be something his friend would want to hear.
"You were just a little distressed . What was it you called it? A case of
the 'willies'. Yes, that was it. And you needed something...someone to
hang on to. It is okay, Ray. I told you I would stay with you."  

Ray very gently brushed his finger tips across the bruise, letting go of
Fraser. His eyes hardened slightly. "Next time I'm freaking out....you say
something. Bein' there for me doesn't me you have to let me hurt you.
That's not right. Understand?"	

Fraser met Ray's determined gaze. "Understood."  

Ray picked up his own cup of tea, and leaned back into the sofa, with a
soft sigh. He stared off into space for several moments. Fraser watched as
Ray nodded once, apparently coming to a decision of some kind, and then
shift to face him again.  

"Least I can do is tell you why."  

"Why what, Ray?"  

"Why I needed you to stay. Why I made such a fuss about havin' you there
in the first place. Why I was so damn scared that I gripped you hard
enough to leave bruises without realizing it."	

"Ray, it isn't necessary. You don't owe me an explanation."  

"Oh yeah. I do, Benton buddy. It's only fair for you to know why."  

Sensing he wouldn't be able to win this agruement with Ray, Fraser nodded.
"As you wish, Ray."  

"Okay. Good." As usual, when troubled, Ray got up and started to pace
slowly back and forth. "When I was in the eighth grade this family moved
in next door. The Kosmeyers. Nice people. Mr. Kosmeyer worked with my dad
at the packing plant. Mrs. Kosmeyer stayed at home, and looked after their
four kids. The oldest, Andy, was my age."   

Ray stopped pacing briefly to look at Fraser. "In a way, you remind me of
him...two of you don't look alike, but he was like you. Good at
everything." Ray shook his head slightly. "Andy was the kinda guy who
never should have been friends with someone like me."  

"Why not, Ray? " Fraser was confused. "If, as you say, Andy was like me,
then I think he would have been lucky to have you has a friend."  

Ray shot him a sudden, warm smile, before his expression quickly sobered.
"Yeah, well this was Junior High School, Fraser. It's a time when you want
to fit in, be popular, lots a peer pressure. Andy was good at
*everything.* Smart in school. Good at sports. Good looking. Every girl in
school thought he was like some kind of movie star. He was popular from
day one. Me...I could barely get through school. I sucked at sports. I was
this skinny Polack, with glasses. I should have been like....what's the
word for when your totally shut out of a group?"  

"Ostracized?"	

"That's the one. Anyway, Andy Kosmeyer was my friend. Because of him, I
got to fit better than I woulda otherwise. Made sure the other kids called
me 'Ray' or 'Stan', not 'Stanley'." Fraser knew that Ray wasn't keen on
being called 'Stanley'.   

"He helped me with algebra. I taught him how to dance...in secret of
course...so he could impress his date at the Freshmen Fling." Ray smiled
slightly, then chuckled. "Andy had the hots for Angie Harris. Real fox
Angie was. He'd asked her to the dance, but he had two left feet. He comes
over to my house in this panic, cause the dance is like in three weeks,
and he doesn't want her to be embarrassed by him." Ray snorted. "Like she
cared if he could dance or not. But he cared. So every night we'd
practice. He actually got to be good at it by the end." There was a long
pause as Ray stood looking out the window. Finally he turned again, and
said softly, "I thought we'd be friends forever."   

Ray sighed, then continued the story. "So, anyway.....couple of months
after Andy gets his driver's license his mom sends him to the store for
somethin'. He asks me to come along. See, with me along he can take the
long way and his mom won't say anything."   

"Why?"	

"Because she wouldn't ever reprimand him or any of the other kids in front
of company. Andy said she'd always make up for it in private, but didn't
think it proper to air the laundry in front of others, so to speak."  

"Not that, Ray. Why would he want to take the long way?"  

Ray started to laugh, but stopped abruptly when his ribs reminded him they
were not 100%. "Sometimes, Fraser, I forget that you are a freak See the
thing is, Andy had just gotten his license. Only time Mr and Mrs. Kosmeyer
let him take the car was if he was running errands for them....so he'd
stretch every one out. Chance to drive, get a little independence. Chance
to run a little, you know?"  

"I see."  

Ray picked up his mug of tea, sipping it slowly. Finally he sat down
facing Fraser, his eyes on the floor, his long fingers wrapped around the
mug as though seeking warmth. Fraser waited patiently for Ray to continue
with the story, letting him take his time.   

"So...." A deep breath.."we are headed back, when this guy rear-ends us at
an intersection. Sends the car out in to on-coming traffic. We hit another
car and then got....got nailed from both sides. I don't know if I passed
out or if I'd just closed my eyes when we got hit, but ....when I opened
my eyes again the dashboard was in my lap pinning both my hands. There was
blood...everywhere. I hurt all over. And I couldn't move."   

Ray swallowed hard. He met Fraser's eyes for the first time since he began
telling this story, his light blue eyes relaying the fear and pain of that
moment. "I looked over at Andy, and he is like....the steering wheel has
him pinned. He's got blood running down the side of his face, and his lips
are turning blue."   

Ray took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Fraser wanted to reach out
and touch him, to offer some comfort, but Ray got up and began to pace
again, stopping at the window, his back to Fraser.   

"Andy was scared...I could see it in his face. At first he is just worried
that him mom is going to be mad, but then it hits him...all of a
sudden...it hits him just how *bad* this whole thing is. By this time, I
guess, he'd gotten a good look at me. I must have...must have...looked at
least as bad to him, as he did to me." Ray shuddered, and wrapped his arms
around himself. Fraser finally stood, moved to stand behind Ray, and laid
a hand on his shoulder.   

"One minute we're kind of talking....as best we can...trying to just
reassure each other that everything is going to be okay." Ray's voice
caught. "And the next moment, Andy just....he just stops...breathing. I
couldn't even reach out to him. I couldn't move my arms enough to touch
him. He was my best friend, Fraser. He died right next to me...and I
couldn't even touch him." "   

Fraser turned Ray around and gathered him into his arms. Normally he
wouldn't have dreamed of taking such liberties, invading another person's
space without permission, but the pain and sorrow in Ray's voice couldn't
be denied. Fraser knew he needed to be held. Ray burrowed into to his
arms, burying his face into Fraser's chest.   

Fraser could tell by his breathing, that Ray was trying hard to control
his emotions, trying not to cry, and he was failing. Fraser found himself
making soothing circles on Ray's back, attempting to ease an old pain.
Finally Ray turned his head so it was resting above Fraser's heart. He
continued with the story, his voice sounding slightly detached, as if he
was relaying events that happened to someone else, events he'd read about,
not actually been a part of.  

"I don't know how long I was trapped in the car before the paramedics
came. They had to use those jaws of life things to get me and....Andy's
body out. Seemed like it had to be someone else, you know? Like it
couldn't be *my* best friend. It just had to be someone else. I kept
hoping they'd be able to do something for Andy." Ray sighed. "I knew when
they put him in one of those black body bags that it was a done deal. No
more Andy. " Ray paused before asking, "Want to know the worst part?"  

Not entirely certain he wanted to hear anymore but knowing Ray had to say
it, Fraser asked, "What was the worst part?"  

"I'd been trapped in that damn car, couldn't move an inch, and when they
put me on that stupid gurney, they *Tied. Me. down.*" Ray shuddered, and
struggled to breath normally. Fraser could feel Ray's rapid hear beat.	 

"I know...I know they did it for safety, but I just about came totally
unglued. Only thing that kept me from totally losing it was the one
paramedic. Funny thing...I can still remember his name. Mark Diebert. He
either had his hand on my arm, or mine on his the whole time to the
hospital. Kept me grounded. Mark talked to me the whole way. Can't
remember a damn thing he said, just the sound of his voice."   

Fraser made no attempt to release Ray, sensing that Ray wasn't quite ready
to let go, but that he wouldn't be able to stand on his own for much
longer.  

"Perhaps we should sit down, Ray." He suggested gently.  

"Yeah. That'd be good."  

Fraser carefully disengaged himself from Ray, but maintained contact with
his hand on Ray's arm, and lead him over to the couch. Once there, he
again enveloped Ray in a gentle embrace, mindful of Ray's ribs and other
bruises. Fraser began to unconsciously rock back and forth slowly. It was
several moments before Ray spoke again.  

"They had to keep me in the hospital for several days. Always was kind of
a restless sleeper, and guess that didn't change just cause it hurt to
move. I was movin' around so much they were worried I'd tear out my
stitches. Rip out a tube or somethin'. So they...they had to restrain me.
When I'd go to sleep at night....nurse would come in and tie my hands
down. I kept having nightmares....stuck back in the car with Andy."   

Ray breathed deeply, slowly in and out. "I'd wake up and I'd still be
stuck, you know. Still couldn't move. Scared me. Made me feel like I had
dreamed Andy's death, and the hospital...and I was really still trapped in
the car."   

Ray let out a soft, shaky sigh. "It's stupid I know. But hospitals remind
me of bein' trapped. Of bein' helpless....in pain and not bein' able to do
anythin' about it. Even now, when I know they're not goin' ta tie me down,
or make me stay. I get in there, and I just kind of...well, it's like I'm
16 years old all over again. Stupid."	

"No, Ray. It isn't stupid. You watched your best friend die when you could
do nothing about it. And to compound the problem you were trapped in a
situation that only served to create negative associations for you. That
isn't stupid, Ray. It's normal."  

Ray nodded against his shoulder. "If you say so, Frase. I wanted you to
know why I needed you to stay. Why the whole place scares the hell out of
me. Thought I could tell this story without getting all weird about it."  


"It's okay, Ray. I understand."   

Ray fell silent. The events of the day apparently catching up to him.
Fraser heard his breathing even out, and his body relaxing even more,
suddenly becoming heavy. With gentle care, Fraser maneuvered Ray out of
his arms so he could lie down on the couch.   

"Ray, why don't you just sleep for awhile?" Fraser suggested, watching his
partner intently, waiting to see if he would protest. Ray reached out with
a hand to grasp Fraser's.  

"You gonna be here when I wake up?"  

"Yes, Ray. I'll be here."  

"Okay. That's...good." Ray's hand traveled lightly up Fraser's arm to
softly caress the still visible bruise his hand had made. "Sorry, Fraser."
 

"I know. It's okay. Just get some rest." Fraser bent to gently remove
Ray's boots, and then carefully placed the afghan from the back of the
couch over his friend.	

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

Two hours later Fraser was still sitting in the living room chair, sipping
a fresh cup of tea. Ray was indeed a restless sleeper. Occasionally he
would stretch out as far as his abused body and the confines of the couch
would allow, and then slowly recoil like a carefully controlled spring.
Ray had made several attempts to roll over, only to stop with a moan when
his cracked ribs protested.   

Fraser moved to place his mug on the table. He didn't really want to wake
Ray. The lines of exhaustion on Ray's face that he'd seen earlier were
still present, and Ray could use the sleep. But, the doctor had indicated
that Ray should be awakened every few hours because of his concussion.	 

Fraser also wanted to be certain that Ray had something to eat. He didn't
know if Ray had eaten lunch, and he knew first hand that all Ray normally
had for breakfast was coffee. So while Ray slept Fraser made sure there
was something edible in the apartment. The stew heating on the stove
should be warm enough to eat by now.   

Fraser placed his hand on Ray's shoulder and shook him gently. "Ray. Ray.
Ray."  

Ray opened his eyes. He blinked a few times before squinting up at Fraser.
"Yeah, Frase?", his voice rough from sleep.   

"It's time for dinner."  

"Oh. Okay." Ray sat up slowly with Fraser's help. He rubbed a hand through
his hair increasing the disarray sleeping had caused. He yawned widely
once before asking, "How long was I out?"  

"Two hours and eleven minutes."  

Ray shook his head before flashing a quick smile at Fraser. "Nothing like
bein' precise. Help me up will ya?" Ray offered his right hand to Fraser,
who responded by taking it and helping Ray to stand. Ray made as if to
stretch but halted quickly muttering, "Damn. Forgot 'bout that."  

"Are you all right, Ray?"  

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Ray waved a hand dismissively. "What's for
dinner?"  

"Beef stew."  

"Stew? You made stew?" Ray looked at him in disbelief.	 

"Ah, no. That is I warmed it, but no I didn't make it. Your mother
evidently in addition to cleaning you apartment....well, she stocked your
freezer as well."  

"Good old Mom strikes again." Ray shuffled into the kitchen. "I think
she's been trying to fatten me up since I was a kid. Hey, you even set the
table. Cool." Ray picked up both bowls from the table and headed toward
the stove.  

Fraser followed Ray into the kitchen. He gave his friend an appraising
look. "Your frame could handle a few more pounds, Ray. Your eating habits
are...well, appalling, to say the least."  

"Appalling? Ha. This from a guy who licks things." Ray chuckled lightly,
returning the bowls to the table. Ray sat in one chair and gestured for
Fraser to take the other.   

"Yes, well be that as it may. You don't eat breakfast. I've seen you skip
lunch many times preferring to eat something from the vending machine, or
a donut from the break room. With all the sugar you eat it's a wonder
you've got any teeth left. Your dinner is usually pizza or Chinese take
out. Hardly what one would call a balanced diet, Ray. It wouldn't hurt for
you to--- "  

Ray held up a hand to halt Fraser's lecture. "Enough already. Just eat."  


They ate in companionable silence for several minutes. Fraser watched as
Ray ate. For someone who seemed to be constantly in a hurry, eating was
one thing Ray took his time with. Oh there were times Fraser could have
sworn Ray had eaten so fast he hadn't actually had time to chew the food,
but most of the time Ray seemed to eat delicately, evidently enjoying his
food. Fraser had to admit that Mrs. Kowalski did make good stew. He said
as much to Ray.  

Ray grinned. "Oh yeah, my mum can cook. I swear she used ta feed half the
kids in the neighborhood. Said she had to make sure the food didn't go ta
waste."  

"Ray, may I ask you something?" Fraser paused, he brushed a knuckle across
an eyebrow, not entirely comfortable with the question he wanted to ask.  

"Sure. You can ask me anythin'. Ya want more stew?" Ray had already gotten
up and was heading for the stove.   

"Ah. Not right at the moment. Thank you."  

Ray returned to his seat. "So, what was it you wanted ta ask me?"  

Fraser cleared his throat. "Do you remember the day we spent in the crypt
attempting to apprehend Marcus Ellory?"   

"Yeah. Why?"  

"I told you I'd read your file."  

Ray paused with his spoon half-way to his mouth. "You said it would be
prudent to know something about me since we was going to be working
together."  

"Yes. Well...your record indicated you were wounded several times in the
line of duty."	

"So?" Ray was clearly puzzled.	 

"It is just that what you told me today....about Andy and your feelings
regarding hospitals, and your reaction to the hospital during what was a
relatively simple visit, I was wondering...well, I was curious, and
possibly a bit concerned..."   

"Will you just ask what it is you want to know already? I told ya, you can
ask me anythin'. So ask. Okay?"  

Fraser sighed. "How did you handle your other trips to the hospital?"  

"Way to ruin a guy's appetite there, Frase." Ray pushed his bowl away.	

"I'm sorry, Ray. I shouldn't have mentioned it. It's just that, well, you
seemed so distressed at the hospital." Fraser made eye contact with Ray
and held it. "I understand your reaction. Given what you told me today, it
is perfectly natural to be uncomfortable in a hospital. I just thought
that perhaps...if I am unavailable whenever you need to go to the hospital
again, although I sincerely hope you never do, is there was someone else
for you to call? Someone else who is normally there for you the way I was
today?"   

Ray stared at Fraser for several seconds with an unreadable expression
before rubbing a hand over his face.   

"No, Fraser there isn't anyone else who knows that hospitals freak me
out." Ray's smile was a little rueful . "You wouldn't know either if you
hadn't taken me to the hospital. Truth is..." There was a momentary
hesitation, as if Ray was deciding whether to saying anything else even as
the words were forming. "If you hadn't been there today, I wouldn't have
gone to the hospital."	

"Ray!"	 

"If I can walk, an' talk, an' I ain't gushing blood, I figure I don't
really have to go. Usually no one pushes it. " Ray shrugged. "Welsh knows
I hate hospitals. He don't know why. Just knows I don't like to go.
Probably why he called the doctor today. Makin' sure I followed his
order."  

"But, Ray, your record indicated--"  

"I know what my record says, Fraser. I lived it." Ray got up. He wandered
over to the counter, bracing himself against it, with his back to Fraser.
When he spoke again his voice was so low Fraser almost couldn't hear him.
"It's real simple. If I couldn't get out of it, I went. Just had to suck
it up and do it, you know?"  

Fraser remained seated. He sensed that Ray needed some space between them.
"You never told anyone how uncomfortable hospitals make you?"  

Ray shook his head no. "Usually I can handle it. "  

Fraser supposed that in hind sight he really shouldn't be surprised to
find out that Ray had never told anyone of his fear of hospitals. It hurt
him deeply to think of his friend struggling on his own to contain his
panic.	 

"How do you normally handle it, Ray?" Fraser asked softly.  

Ray turned to look at Fraser. "I think about dancin'. Try to hear the
music in my head. Keep remindin' myself that I'm not a kid anymore. I just
keep telling myself that I don't have to stay. That I can leave just as
soon as they finish doin' whatever they are doin'. I know what the AMA
form says by heart."  

"AMA?"	

"Against Medical Advice. Form they make you sign if you decide to do stuff
they don't want you to do."  

"Like leave the hospital when you should stay?"  

"Yeah."   

"Ray, will you promise me something?"  

"What?" Ray was watching Fraser warily as he rose from the table and
approached.   

"The next time you are injured....whether or not your able to walk and
talk, whether or not you are 'gushing blood'...will you promise to call
me? "  

"Why?" 

  

"Because you are my friend. I would be honored to help you in any way that
I can."  

Ray cocked his head to one side. "That hard to say?" Ray smiled slightly,
and Fraser returned it before answering.  

"Not at all."  

"Okay, Fraser. I promise to call you." Ray reached out and embraced
Fraser. "Thanks." He whispered.   

"You are very welcome, Ray. Would you like to finish dinner now?"  

Ray laughed softly. "Yeah. I would. You done asking hard questions?"  

Fraser nodded. "Yes, Ray." Fraser held up his hand in the traditional Boy
Scout manner. "I promise. No more hard questions."   

They returned to the table to finish eating. Conversation consisted of
safer topics like hockey, gossip from the precinct, events scheduled to
take place at the consulate. Fraser watched with approval as Ray finished
his second bowl of stew. He was relieved that his "hard question" hadn't
completely ruined Ray's appetite.   

Fraser cleared the table when they were finished. He insisted that Ray
take the pain medication the doctor prescribed, and then return to rest on
the couch. Once the kitchen was again spotless, Fraser joined Ray. They
watched TV for close to an hour when Fraser glanced over at Ray to witness
him yawning widely enough to make his jaw pop.	

"Perhaps you should go to bed, Ray? I'm sure it will be more comfortable
than sleeping on the couch. "  

Ray yawned again before nodding. "Bed. Yeah, the bed would be good. You
can go home, Frase. I'll be fine."  

Fraser shook his head no. "I told the doctor I'd stay with you. I would be
remiss in my duty if I left you alone."   

Ray apparently realized that he wouldn't win an argument with Fraser where
his duty was concerned. Instead of pursuing the issue, Ray simply said,
"Suit yourself. Couch is all yours. Should be some blankets in the
closet."  

"Do you need help getting ready for bed?"  

"Just help me off the couch, Fraser. I can handle everything else."  

Fraser helped Ray stand and then steadied him as he swayed slightly.
Fraser wondered around the apartment securing the dead bolt in the door,
shutting off all but one of the lights, retrieving blankets to make his
bed on the couch, while Ray prepared for bed. He kept one ear trained on
the movements of his partner. He didn't entirely believe that Ray could
"handle everything else".   

When Ray exited the bathroom, Fraser couldn't resist the impulse to follow
Ray into the bedroom. He watched as Ray carefully lowered himself into
bed. Ray laid back, closed his eyes, and gave a relieved sigh. Wanting to
be sure that Ray was warm enough, Fraser found himself reaching out to
tuck Ray in without conscious thought.	 

"Sleep well, Ray. I'll be back to wake you in two hours."  

Fraser turned to leave when Ray's sleepy voice stopped him. "Hey, Frase?" 


"Yes, Ray?"  

"Thank you for today. For bein' my friend."  

Fraser laid his had gently against Ray's cheek. "Your welcome. It's a
genuine pleasure to be your friend." He paused, softly caressing Ray's
cheek before saying, "Now get some sleep."   

"Okay. G'night, Frase."  

Fraser waited until Ray had fallen asleep before he left the room.  

The End