Title: When God Makes a Joke, Nobody's Laughing
Author:
arrow00
Fandom: dS
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: R for violent image
Category: ER
Warning: None
Wordcount: 691
Notes: I was in bed trying to sleep when they made me do this.
When God Makes a Joke, Nobody's Laughing
By Arrow
Ray knew she was dead the first second he plunged through the apartment door, but he made himself walk over to her and put two fingers on her blood-spattered neck. Fraser shifted behind him, and Ray stood up with a sigh.
The domestic call had come in only twenty minutes ago, but they were at least fifteen minutes too late.
He flashed for some reason on an image of his red tricycle on the green lawn of their old house in Skokie. The red trike that had disappeared one night, and he'd cried and cried the next day, because he just couldn't understand how someone could do that, just take his bike like that.
Now he was thirty-nine years old and looking at the body of a woman, a wife, killed by her husband—because, what? She'd burned his casserole? She'd forgotten to wash his favorite shirt?—and Ray still couldn't figure it out.
"Ray, should I call the coroner?" Even Fraser sounded tired, completely beat up with it.
"Yeah, that'd be good. Don't get prints on the phone, okay? I'm going to put out an APB on the husband."
They did their thing, and together they waited for the wagon.
///
That night it was beer and sushi, which Ray hadn't liked very much the first time he'd tried it. But Fraser, once he'd moved into Ray's apartment and Ray's bed and started being pushier about everything, was persistent. And after while Ray had gotten to really like it. Now it was his favorite, even over pizza.
Fraser was drinking his beer slowly, one to Ray's two. They had the TV on, but the sound off—some show with polar bears waddling around on snow and ice. Ray watched them and tried to let the day go. The ice was blue and almost glowed, and the polar bears dropped and slid one by one down into the water, all clumsy and graceful and hilarious.
The snow looked clean.
"Fraser, you ever have a bicycle?"
There was a pause, and then Fraser said a little creakily, "Not that I can remember, no. I did have a sled, though." His voice warmed. "It was perfect—my father made it for me during one of his visits. Mother insisted he sand it smooth so I wouldn't get splinters. It was brown and white. The runners were aspen, I think, and it flew like the wind." Now he was smiling wistfully.
"Sounds nice. Where did you keep it?"
"Keep it?" Fraser sounded puzzled, and turned to face him fully.
"Yeah, did you take it inside with you?"
"Oh, no." Fraser grimaced slightly. "I left it in front of the house. Mother yelled at me one time when she tripped over it on the way to the barn."
Ray chewed that over along with his salmon sashimi.
"Why'd we come back to Chicago, anyway?" he said.
The silence was like a wind howl, with Fraser suddenly frozen beside him.
"I don't—I just assumed—" Fraser scrubbed his eyebrow. "This is your home, Ray."
Ray should have known it was something like that. He should have realized Fraser wouldn't ask for something he really wanted. The sushi was about his limit.
"Well, it doesn't have to be. I mean I liked it up there. A hell of a lot." Something in his chest relaxed, eased open. "We could go back, you know."
Fraser was now so tense he was practically vibrating. "Go back...? But what would you—"
"Don't think about it. Don't think, just tell me—if you could, would you live up there with me?"
"Yes." Fraser's thin whisper was like a prayer. "Yes, Ray."
"Okay, then. We'll go."
"Ray—"
"We'll just go, you and me and Dief. And we'll live up there."
"Ray." Fraser's hand was on his leg and hanging on tight like he was falling.
Ray smiled. "And you'll make me a sled, all right?"
"Yes, Ray. I'll make you a sled." Fraser let go of his thigh and suddenly crushed him close. Ray hugged him back even tighter.
"But Fraser? It's gotta be red."
.....................
2008.02.29
Author:
Fandom: dS
Pairing: Fraser/RayK
Rating: R for violent image
Category: ER
Warning: None
Wordcount: 691
Notes: I was in bed trying to sleep when they made me do this.
When God Makes a Joke, Nobody's Laughing
By Arrow
Ray knew she was dead the first second he plunged through the apartment door, but he made himself walk over to her and put two fingers on her blood-spattered neck. Fraser shifted behind him, and Ray stood up with a sigh.
The domestic call had come in only twenty minutes ago, but they were at least fifteen minutes too late.
He flashed for some reason on an image of his red tricycle on the green lawn of their old house in Skokie. The red trike that had disappeared one night, and he'd cried and cried the next day, because he just couldn't understand how someone could do that, just take his bike like that.
Now he was thirty-nine years old and looking at the body of a woman, a wife, killed by her husband—because, what? She'd burned his casserole? She'd forgotten to wash his favorite shirt?—and Ray still couldn't figure it out.
"Ray, should I call the coroner?" Even Fraser sounded tired, completely beat up with it.
"Yeah, that'd be good. Don't get prints on the phone, okay? I'm going to put out an APB on the husband."
They did their thing, and together they waited for the wagon.
///
That night it was beer and sushi, which Ray hadn't liked very much the first time he'd tried it. But Fraser, once he'd moved into Ray's apartment and Ray's bed and started being pushier about everything, was persistent. And after while Ray had gotten to really like it. Now it was his favorite, even over pizza.
Fraser was drinking his beer slowly, one to Ray's two. They had the TV on, but the sound off—some show with polar bears waddling around on snow and ice. Ray watched them and tried to let the day go. The ice was blue and almost glowed, and the polar bears dropped and slid one by one down into the water, all clumsy and graceful and hilarious.
The snow looked clean.
"Fraser, you ever have a bicycle?"
There was a pause, and then Fraser said a little creakily, "Not that I can remember, no. I did have a sled, though." His voice warmed. "It was perfect—my father made it for me during one of his visits. Mother insisted he sand it smooth so I wouldn't get splinters. It was brown and white. The runners were aspen, I think, and it flew like the wind." Now he was smiling wistfully.
"Sounds nice. Where did you keep it?"
"Keep it?" Fraser sounded puzzled, and turned to face him fully.
"Yeah, did you take it inside with you?"
"Oh, no." Fraser grimaced slightly. "I left it in front of the house. Mother yelled at me one time when she tripped over it on the way to the barn."
Ray chewed that over along with his salmon sashimi.
"Why'd we come back to Chicago, anyway?" he said.
The silence was like a wind howl, with Fraser suddenly frozen beside him.
"I don't—I just assumed—" Fraser scrubbed his eyebrow. "This is your home, Ray."
Ray should have known it was something like that. He should have realized Fraser wouldn't ask for something he really wanted. The sushi was about his limit.
"Well, it doesn't have to be. I mean I liked it up there. A hell of a lot." Something in his chest relaxed, eased open. "We could go back, you know."
Fraser was now so tense he was practically vibrating. "Go back...? But what would you—"
"Don't think about it. Don't think, just tell me—if you could, would you live up there with me?"
"Yes." Fraser's thin whisper was like a prayer. "Yes, Ray."
"Okay, then. We'll go."
"Ray—"
"We'll just go, you and me and Dief. And we'll live up there."
"Ray." Fraser's hand was on his leg and hanging on tight like he was falling.
Ray smiled. "And you'll make me a sled, all right?"
"Yes, Ray. I'll make you a sled." Fraser let go of his thigh and suddenly crushed him close. Ray hugged him back even tighter.
"But Fraser? It's gotta be red."
.....................
2008.02.29
no subject
Date: 2008-02-29 06:44 pm (UTC)