Sorrows	*SORROWS*                               *By GILDA LILY* 

              I read with great interest the thought that Benny's 
              mental health is showing signs of deteriorating in 3rd 
              season.  I've felt that way myself, and this story has 
              been simmering in my mind since 3rd season began.  This 
              is a sad one, folks, but then, sometimes I'm just sad 
              when watching Seasons 3/4.  :( 
              Rated NC-17 for a graphic m/m sex scene. 
              Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, more's the 
              pity, Alliance does. 
              (c) March 20, 1998 (Ostara) 

                                    *I* 
                                 *MELTING* 

     *Ben awoke, smiling to himself.  The warm body next to him made him 
feel tingly all over.  He stretched lazily and turned over, eyes till 
closed, his hand reaching out to caress the skin of his beloved.  A soft 
purr let him know that his lover was enjoying his attentions.  He 
remembered last night: his lover deep inside him, hot and demanding, 
his legs spread as his beloved touched his cock, pumping it while his 
hips moved, and semen spilled out to spatter on his chest and belly 
while Ray's scalded his insides... 

     A frown marred his perfect features as he continued caressing.  He 
couldn't recall Ray being so...bony...? 

     Eyes snapped open and he sat up as if shot from a cannon.  All that 
missing was him modestly pulling the sheet up his chest, he thought with 
a touch of hysteria.  His face reflected his shock. 

     "Mmm, lover, you were the *best* last night." 

     His lover turned over and smiled at him.  Except that this man was 
not his lover. 

     "Who...who *are* you?" 

     The man frowned, his smile a little uncertain. "C'mon, babe, it's 
too early for your weird sense of Canadian humor." 

     "Who *are* you?" Ben repeated harshly.  His fist balled while 
clutching the sheet. 

     "I'm Ray." 

     "No, you're not," Ben ground out.  His heart was racing and he 
could feel cold sweat running down his back. 

     "'Course I am!" 

     "You're not Ray Vecchio!" 

     "No, but I play him on TV.  C'mon, Fraser, what's up with this 
act?" 

     Ben leaped out of bed, limbs trembling with anger and fear. "Get 
out of my bed!" 

     "What?" 

     "Are you dim or something?  I *said*, get out of my bed!" 

     The stranger seemed too astonished to do anything.  Ben felt dizzy 
and rapidly spilled out the next words. "Where's my Ray?" 

     "Right here." 

     How could this man be so *stupid*! "I *mean* Ray Vecchio!" 

     "Listen, love..." 

     "Don't call me that!" 

     Ben heard a whine and turned with relief to Dief.  Maybe he could 
order the wolf to nosh on the intruder.  He felt his blood run cold. 

     "Dief..." 

     He slowly knelt down in front of the wolf and grasped his muzzle. 
Panic began to whisper along the edges of his mind as he gazed into the 
big eyes. 

    "You're not Dief," he said with a whimper, dropping his hand away 
and lowering his head. 

    "Fraser..." 

    His head snapped back up to see the imposter staring over the edge 
of the cot.  He scrambled up and ran to his closet, slamming the door 
shut behind him. 

    Closet.  Right.  How many times had he and Ray been in the broom 
closet at the Precinct?  He had to get out of here and over to the 
Precinct!  Ray would be there, and he would come back with him and help 
toss this impertinent stranger out. 

    A banging on the door startled him. 

    "Fraser!  Come on out here!" 

    He flung the door open, nearly beaning the imposter.  Enjoying a 
perverse sense of satisfaction, Ben barreled past him in his red serge 
and out the apartment, ignoring the man's calls and the wolf's barking. 

    He ran all the way to the 27th Precinct, heart pounding all the 
way.  He pushed the fear to the back of his mind.  Ray was all right. 
Ray was fine.  He would find him at his desk and they would deal with 
this poor, sick soul in his apartment.  In his *bed*. 

    Ben shuddered.  He hoped that nothing had...happened. 

    Ignoring the strange looks thrown his way, he stepped up his pace. 
He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the Precinct and barged up 
the stairs, tossing off a quick, "Pardon me" to a woman he almost bowled 
over. 

     He reached the squadroom and took a moment to compose himself, 
chest heaving.  All he had to do was open the door, and he would see 
Ray.  It would all be fine. 

     He opened the door, his eyes immediately going to Ray's desk. 
Disappointment washed over him.  Empty.  Well, that was fine.  Ray was 
just away from his desk.  He would sit in his chair before the desk and 
wait.  He could do that.  Ray would come and everything would be all 
right. 

     He walked across the room a little unsteadily, clutching his hat 
with a painful grip.  He passed Elaine's desk and said automatically, 
"Good morning, El..." He stopped, expression shocked. 

     "Hi, Benton." 

     Francesca Vecchio sat at Elaine's desk, wearing a civilian aide 
uniform.  Well, it *resembled* a civilian aide's uniform.  The sleeves 
had been shortened and the neckline lowered.  Frannie was working at the 
computer. 

     "Uh, Francesca, what are you doing in Elaine's seat?" 

     "Silly, it's *my* seat now." 

     "What?" asked Ben faintly. 

     "Yeah.  I'm the one you and Ray come to for information." 

     Suddenly heartened, Ben stepped closer. "Yes, *Ray* and I.  Do you 
know where he is?" 

     "Who am I, my brother's keeper?" She sighed. "He should be in any 
time now." 

     Ben nodded in satisfaction.  "Thank you kindly, Francesca." He went 
over to Ray's desk and sat down in the chair before it.  He took a 
deep breath, eyes closed.  This was where he belonged. 

    "Hey, Fraser!" 

    He opened his eyes.  Oh, no!  That crazy man had followed him to 
the Precinct! 

    The spiky-haired blond slouched over to the desk, dressed in grungy 
jeans and a T-shirt that read MEGADEATH.  *His* Ray would not have been 
caught dead in such an outfit, at least not while on duty. 

     "Glad to see ya got over your little hissy fit, babe." The stranger 
had the audacity to slide into Ray's seat!  Ben felt a great anger begin 
to surge inside him.  Before he could say anything, though, Francesca 
waltzed over and put a file on the desk. "Here ya go, Ray." 

     "Thanks, Frannie." 

     *No!* 

     "Francesca, this man is claiming to be Ray!" 

     "Well, that's because he is." 

     Shock poured out from blue eyes. "Francesca, that is *not* your 
brother!" 

     "My brother?" 

     "Yes, your brother!  The man with the dazzling smile, incredible 
green eyes, and wears Armani!" 

     Frannie looked at Ben askance.  He could feel sweat begin to 
trickle down his collar.  He shot out of the chair and said, "I'll prove 
it to you all!" 

     He ran all the way to the Vecchio house, gasping for breath by the 
time he reached the house...but the house was a charred ruin, his heart 
nearly beating out of his chest.  He stared at it for a very long time, 
the panic building, and he took off at a run again. 

     *The Consulate!  There I'll have the resources to track Ray down 
and figure out why all the Americans have gone bonkers!* 

     He skidded to a halt outside the Consulate building, its cool 
whiteness pristine in the early-morning sun.  Yet there was no Mountie 
on guard, and the official brass plaque had been removed and replaced 
with a sign that read: VANDALAY INDUSTRIES.  He barged in, the usual 
niceties forgotten as the blood rushed in his ears. 

     "Can I help you, sir?" 

     "Jasmine!" He almost sobbed her name and grabbed her.  Ignoring her 
squeal, he said, "I must see Inspector Thatcher!" 

     "Then you'd better go to the Consulate." 

     "This *is* the Consulate." 

     She looked at him strangely. "No, it's at 602 Roosevelt Avenue." 

     He nearly snapped at her, "No, it isn't!" but decided not to argue. 
He ran out, looking wildly about him, then took off in a direction he 
was certain would bring him to Roosevelt Avenue.  He had been there once 
with Ray. 

     Ray.  Why were these people *doing* this to them?  Why wouldn't 
they let him see Ray?  Was their disapproval so strong that they 
couldn't stand to see them together?  Why did he feel like he was in a 
TWILIGHT ZONE episode, an old classic television series that Ray had 
introduced him to years ago? 

     Everything seemed to revolve around Ray.  Dear Ray.  He yearned to 
see his face, gaze deeply into those leaf-green eyes and close his arms 
around that slender, elegant body.  He desperately wanted to make love 
to his partner, feel his strength and passion, and celebrate their love. 
Oh, dear Ray. 

     Flushed with passionate thoughts and from the run, Benny stopped 
outside the dark, old-fashioned structure that now bore the legend, 
CANADIAN CONSULATE.  He dashed inside past Turnbull who was on guard 
duty.  Thank heavens for Turnbull!  Doing what he always did.  Benny 
needed some continuity right now. 

     He hesitated in the grand foyer, uncertain of this building's 
layout, then took a guess and headed for what appeared to be Inspector 
Thatcher's office.  He burst in, forgetting all about politeness in his 
desperation. 

     "Inspector, I need your help...!"  He stopped short, the old 
familiar feeling of disbelief hitting him.  Meg Thatcher was staring at 
him. 

     "What is it, Constable?" 

     "When...when did you get your hair cut?" 

     She rolled her eyes. "I'm busy, Constable.  Now if you don't have 
anything constructive to say, kindly leave and shut the door on your way 
out..." 

     He dashed around her desk and grabbed her by the shoulders, her 
grunt of surprised pain ignored by him. "You must help me, Inspector! 
Ray's missing and no one seems to care!" 

     She smirked. "Why should that surprise you?" 

     He shook his head impatiently. "No, I mean, what I mean is 
that...Inspector, everyone acts like he never existed!  I *have* to find 
him!  Please, you must help me!" 

     "Fraser, you must calm down.  Vecchio is probably just out of town 
for a few days, or on some assignment.  I'm sure your lover boy will 
come back to you." She said the words 'lover boy' with obvious disgust. 

     "No!" Benny snatched his hands away and felt his panic rising. "I 
must find him!" 

     He ran out of her office, ignoring her calls for him to come back, 
and was out in the street before he saw Jack Huey's car pull up. 
Relieved, he stood there trembling.  Jack would help him.  Jack 
understood about partners.  He frowned at the dark-haired man who was 
also stepping out of the car. 

     "Jack, you must help me!" 

     "Sure, Benton," Jack said reasonably.  He and the stranger slowly 
advanced. "I'll be glad to help." 

     "Thank God!" Benny sobbed.  He grabbed Jack's arms. "Jack, Ray's 
gone and some imposter has taken his place!  Dief's not Dief, and the 
Inspector had a new haircut!  This Consulate isn't the Consulate! 
Please help me find Ray!  I *need* Ray!" 

      "Sure, Benton." Jack lightly squeezed Benny's arms. "Come with us, 
and we'll find Ray." 

      "Who's this?" Benny asked warily, staring at the new man. 

      "He's my partner, Tom Dewey." 

      "Partner?  Oh, no, your partner is Louis." A look of horror 
crossed his face. "Louis was killed...in the Riv...burned...!" He began 
to moan and slid out of the men's grasp, the world whirling around as 
from somewhere, deep inside, a scream began to rise up from a black 
abyss as fire exploded behind his eyes and the world melted... 

*II* 
                                  *FLAMES* 

     The young, dark-haired man studied his clipboard and looked up at 
the approach of the two officers.  They were a handsome couple, he 
thought, and he shook their hands. 

     "Please be seated," he said to Jack and Elaine.  Tom was off-duty 
and Elaine had come to the hospital when Jack had called her. 

      They sat on a leather settee, the hall bright and cheerful. 
Certainly not what you would expect of this kind of hospital.  Elaine 
asked, "Is he all right, Doctor?" 

      Dr. Julius Birnbaum shook his head. "He's heavily sedated, Ms. 
Besbriss.  He's really quite clever, getting out as he does. 
Unfortunately, unless we keep him doped up to the gills, he'll always 
manage to do so.  And we can't keep him restrained forever, either." 

     "He's not a danger to anyone," Elaine said softly. 

     "No, just to himself." 

     She and Jack exchanged glances. "Doctor, I know you're new to 
Benton's case, but are you aware of all the details of what happened?" 
She took a deep breath. "He's never been the same since his partner was 
killed by that car bomb.  Ray's beloved Riv went up in flames, and him 
with it.  Dief went, too." 

      Birnbaum frowned. "Dief?" 

      "His wolf," Jack supplied. 

      Raising an eyebrow, the doctor indicated to Elaine that she should 
continue. 

      "Well, he's never forgiven himself for Ray's death.  He was 
helping an old woman he knew cross the street when Ray and Dief got into 
the car and when Ray turned the key in the ignition..." She shuddered 
and quickly took hold of Jack's hand.  She understood why he was being 
so quiet.  The memories were being dredged up again.  He was seeing 
another Riv, another flash of flames, a partner lost. 

      Birnbaum frowned. "Why would he feel guilty about that?" 

      Elaine smiled slightly. "You didn't know Fraser before his 
breakdown.  He was always helping people and Ray would grumble about it, 
but he'd help, too.  And one of the cases Fraser dragged Ray into ended 
up connected to the Mob, and Fraser was targeted by them for execution. 
Unfortunately, it was Ray and Dief who paid." 

     The sadness in her voice could have broken a hundred hearts.  She 
wiped at her eyes and continued. 

     "Anyway, Fraser screamed and started running toward the car, and 
Jack and the Lieutenaut caught him and held him back.  He fought them 
like a wildcat but then just slid out of their grasp and fell to the 
ground." Elaine's voice was strong but tear-filled. "He 
started...hugging himself and keening this...*awful* wail...and he was 
in shock for the next few days.  When he came out of it, he insisted on 
going over to Ray's family's house and helping them with the funeral 
arrangements.  He as there, helping poor Mrs. Vecchio and Ray's sisters, 
and he made arrangements for Dief to be buried up in the Territories, 
too." 

     The doctor consulted his chart. "He seemed normal after that?" 

     "Well, as normal as Fraser can be." She and Jack laughed gently. 
"Anyway, he refused a transfer and helped crack the case of who was 
responsible.  He seemed to control any desire for revenge he might have. 
 And then he didn't come around the Precinct much anymore 
after that, though he was still coming in the capacity as a liaison 
between our department and his Consulate, but no longer as Ray Vecchio's 
unofficial partner." 

      "He seemed all right, and even would occasionally accept Mrs. 
Vecchio's dinner invitations, but he gradually stopped going there, and 
stopped going anywhere, I'd heard.  He began to lose weight, looked 
awful from loss of sleep, and then he began to haunt the Precinct, 
while not neglecting his duties at the Consulate but his boss definitely 
didn't like it.  And he began sitting in his chair in front of Ray's 
desk..." 

      Here Jack joined in. "The desk still hadn't been assigned to 
anyone.  He came in every day at lunchtime and every day after work, and 
just sat there until one of us would suggest he go home." 

      "And he looked so confused...so lost...it always broke my heart," 
Elaine said. 

     "Did he ever say why he was doing this?" asked Birnbaum. 
  
     Jack and Elaine exchanged glances.  She answered, "He was waiting 
for Ray." 

     The doctor's eyebrow rose and he wrote something on the chart. 
Elaine watched him, then exchanged a glance with Jack.  At his nod 
she asked hesitantly, "Doctor?  Has it been noted that Ray was more than 
just a partner in work...that he was one in life as well?" 

     "What?" 

     "Ray and Fraser were lovers." 

     Birnbaum suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Uh, yes." 

     "Does that bother you?" 

     "Yes, it does, Ms. Besbriss." 

     "Should you excuse yourself from this case, then?" 

     The doctor was indignant as he said, "Certainly not.  Constable 
Fraser will get the utmost care from me.  Now, I see here that the 
deterioration continued at a slow yet noticeable rate?" 

     Elaine nodded and Jack said, "He would come in and talk about Ray 
as if he was still alive." 

     As Jack told his examples, Elaine closed her eyes and remembered 
one incident in particular: 

                                * * * * * * 

      *Ben walked in, smiling sunnily as he used to do so long ago, and 
Elaine felt her heart skip a beat.  He was so beautiful!  But what could 
have made him so happy?  His uniform hung on him like a starving man, 
and there were always dark shadows under his eyes from his lack of 
sleep.  His step was lively today, however, and there was that dazzling 
smile. 

      "Good afternoon, Elaine." 

      "Good afternoon, Fraser.  What's up?" 

      He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Ray and I had a wonderful 
time last night." He blushed slightly. "I am very lucky to have an 
Italian lover." 

      Elaine felt her good cheer dissipate as if a bucket of cold water 
had been thrown on her.  She looked at that smiling face and wanted to 
cry. 

      "Uh, Benton?" 

      But he had already taken his customary place in front of Ray's 
desk.  She watched as he sat there patiently, glancing every now and 
then down the length of the squadroom to its entrance, waiting... 
  
     Her heart broke.* 
  
                             * * * * * * 

     The doctor was furiously scribbling on his clipboard.  Jack had 
finished his story and Elaine took up the tale again. 

     "So we decided to contact his boss at the Consulate, wondering if 
they knew about Fraser's delusions over there, but the last straw came." 
She took a deep breath.  Jack took her hand and squeezed it. "It 
happened six months to the day that Ray died..." 

                              * * * * * * 

     *Ben came in the Precinct, looking a little tired but happy. 
Elaine couldn't bear to ask him why, so she simply said nothing. 
Lieutenaut Welsh eyed the Mountie from the doorway of his office and 
watched as he said his customary "Good afternoon" to Elaine and Jack and 
went to sit in front of the desk. 

      He held his hat in his hands and moved it around and around, 
looking up now and again and being disappointed every time.  Welsh began 
to come out of his office when a footstep was heard and someone called 
out, "Hey, Ray!" 

      Elaine gasped as Ben's head immediately came up, light glowing in 
his eyes, only to be replaced by confusion and bitter disappointment. 
Her heart broke and she started to get up and go to him when the blond 
newcomer sauntered over to Ray's desk and sat down.  She instinctively 
held her breath. 

      Ben was looking at the stranger with stupified astonishment.  He 
was a spiky-haired blond wearing a scruffy set of jeans and a 
powder-blue T-shirt.  He was busy going through the top desk drawer when 
he looked up and said, "Oh, hi." He held out his hand. "I'm Ray." 

     Elaine saw the storm crash on the horizon, Ben jumping up and 
nearly leaping over the desk as he grabbed Stanley Raymond Kowalski's 
T-shirt. 

     "You're *not* Ray!" he shouted, dragging the man across the desk 
and shaking him, then he threw him back. 

     "Fraser!" Elaine yelled and Jack came running.  Ben was already on 
the unfortunate Kowalski, rage twisting his handsome face.  Welsh and 
Jack reached him before he could seriously hurt Kowalski and he 
screamed, "Let me *go*!  This man is an imposter!  What have you done 
with Ray!" 

      "Fraser, Ray's dead!" Welsh shouted. 

      Silence.  Deadly and chilling. 

      "No," Ben said, swiftly shaking his head. 

      "Yes," Welsh said, hating to do it but needing to try and get Ben 
to face reality. 

      "No," Ben whispered, and then he shrieked, "*Noooo*!!!" and 
twistedout of Jack and Welsh's grasp, taking off out of the squadroom. 

      "Catch him!" Welsh ordered, and several officers bolted the 
squadroom.  The Lieutenaut rubbed his face and swore. 

      A few minutes later Jack returned with a few other cops. "He's 
gone, Lieutenaut." 

      "Gave you the slip?" Welsh barked. "All right, put out an APB on 
him.  Elaine, call the Consulate and inform Thatcher about what's 
happened." 

>      "Yes, sir." Elaine made the call and was glad to get a sympathetic
Turnbull instead of the Ice Queen.  After the call she 
walked slowly over to Ray's desk.  Kowalski had gone into Welsh's 
office.  She picked up the abandoned Stetson and gently clutched it to 
her heart. 

      "Oh, Benton," she whispered.* 

                                * * * * * * 

      "We finally found him at the Vecchios' old house.  The family was 
away in Florida but Ben still had a key.  He was in Ray's room..." 

                               * * * * * * 
      *The house was eerily quiet.  Elaine and Jack checked the 
downstairs.  Elaine glanced into the living room and drew in a breath as 
she saw the family pictures arranged on a wall...including the wedding 
picture of Ben and Ray.  She traced a finger along the golden frame and 
felt tears blur her vision as she gazed upon their smiling faces.  She 
carefully turned away, Jack indicating the stairs and she nodded.  They 
quietly went up the staircase, Elaine pointing to the room down the 
hall.  Jack nodded and they headed for it. 

      It was Ray's room.  They knew that from the parties they'd 
attended here over the years.  And this was where their sad quest ended. 

      Ben was here, sitting on the bed and rocking back and forth, tears 
streaming down his face as he tightly clutched a pillow to his abdomen. 
The spread was turned down partway and an empty space was at the head of 
the bed next to a second pillow.  The drapes were pulled back, sunlight 
streaming in to highlight the angelic face. 

     Elaine cautiously approached him.  When he didn't acknowledge her 
presence, she sat down next to him and said gently, "Benton, it's time 
to go." 

     He continued rocking, the silent tears breaking her heart.  She put 
a hand on his shoulder, then withdrew it and laid her head there 
instead.  Jack remained silent at the foot of the bed. 

     They stayed that way for a long time, Elaine finally telling Jack, 
"Call the ambulance."  After he left she thought she heard, "He isn't 
coming back, is he?" whispered in her ear.  She turned quickly, but Ben 
was moaning softly now.  Had she imagined him speaking?  She gathered 
him into her arms and sent up a quick prayer to Ray, wherever he was. 

     *Look out for him.* 

                                * * * * * * 

      Elaine wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. "We brought him to City 
Hospital but there was nothing they could do for him, and he was 
admitted here." 

     Birnbaum nodded. "Six months ago." 

    "And today is the first anniversary of Ray's death." 

    The doctor sighed. "We'll keep him under close observation." He 
stood up and shook their hands. "Thank you for telling your story once 
again.  I want to find out all I can about Constable Fraser.  Maybe I 
can help him." 

    "I certainly hope so.  What a waste of a fine man." 

     Birnbaum looked at his chart after the officers had departed.  He 
read, *The patient suffers paranoid delusions, insisting that his dead 
lover is still alive and being held prisoner somewhere.  He thinks here 
is a vast conspiracy keeping him from Ray Vecchio.  Skilled in the art 
of escape, he periodically gets out of the facility but only wanders 
around looking for his lover and wolf.  The outside world overwhelms him 
and he eventually breaks down and is picked up by a police force that is 
familiar with his situation and brings him back here. 

      Here at Briarwood he is totally withdrawn, punctuated by wild 
episodes that must be treated with a tranquilizer and straitjacket. 
Unfortunately he seems to have the knowledge of getting out of the 
straitjacket.  Possibilites of total immobilization are being 
considered.* 
  
     Birnbaum shook his head and went down the hall. 

                           * * * * * * 

     Benton Fraser, formerly of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, sat 
by his hospital room window and stared into space, the figures of Jack 
Huey and Elaine Besbriss slowly getting smaller as they walked toward 
the parking lot.  A discarded straitjacket lay on the floor by the bed. 

     He let the gauzy curtain fall from his hand and obscure his vision 
of the outdoors. 

     "I'll be waiting, Ray." 

     It could have been merely a whisper on the wind as the sun set, 
dissolving into passionately-brilliant flames flickering over the 
marble-perfect face of the man at the window.* 
  

     Comments can be mailed to: jeanniemarie@sprintmail.com 

  

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