Confessional
There's not much explanation for this one, other than I was feeling soppy one night and was sick of revision. It's similar to a converastion Fraser and Ray had in Red, White and Blue, only it’s set post COTW and deals with some old issues. You'll see what I mean when you get to the end. Comments, as always, welcome.
"There are things we have to talk about."
"Yes."
A simple answer. Fraser watched his friend, watched him suddenly look away to study the floor.
"Why, Benny? Why leave me? When I only just got you back . . ."
"I . . ." What could he say, other than the truth? "I was homesick."
Vecchio raised his head slightly. "Homesick?" Anger in his voice. "Benny, I needed you. When I got back here, when I came back to Chicago, I was so afraid that everything would have changed, that I'd have lost something. Only I knew you would be there to put everything back together again. But you left."
"Ray - "
"No! I couldn't help you catch Muldoon, and I'm sorry. I wanted to be there, Benny, I swear I did, I would have done anything to be with you, to have caught that bastard for you . . ."
"That wasn't your fault," Fraser said gently. "You were injured, I never expected you to follow me to Canada."
"But Kowalski did. I expected you to come back, Benny. But you didn't. Just some dumb phonecall asking was I okay, and that you and Kowalski were going off to find some stupid damn hand thing, and was I okay with this? No! I needed you, and you weren't there. I can't forgive you for that. I know you were homesick, Benny. You were homesick three years ago, when they made you leave your home to come to Chicago. And you were still homesick when I opened that hotel door and saw you standing there, the first time in over a year. And I would have understood, y'know? If you'd asked me."
A small silence. Fraser studied his hands, unable to hide the guilt from his eyes.
"I'm sorry. Ray, your friendship means more to me than anything, and I don't want to do anything to harm that. And I'm glad you're back. I missed you."
"But?"
"But . . ." Time to confess. He had not even spoken to Stanley about how he felt towards Muldoon, even those few months up north together, alone. "When I discovered that Muldoon had murdered my mother . . . I had to get away. I felt somehow that . . . as though I blamed Chicago for everything. For you leaving, for Warfield, for you getting shot, for Muldoon returning from the dead . . . Everything that happened, it happened here. Chicago. Victoria . . ." A slight pause. "Everything."
"Warfield." He pointedly ignored the Victoria reference, didn't want to get into that. "I've not heard that one."
"It doesn't matter."
"Everything matters to you, Benny."
He wanted to tell him it was nothing, or to ask Stanley, anything not to bring that name up again. He shouldn't have mentioned it, but now it was too late, the name was out, as was Victoria, and he couldn't take it back.
"There was a mob leader who assaulted a waiter. His name was Warfield."
"I remember him. Small-time mob-guy trying to make it big."
"Well he had," Fraser told him. "I . . . I tried to make him confess, Not force him, or at least, I never thought of it like that. But then . . ." Quickly: "Several of his men attacked me as a warning to stop. Stanley, Welsh, Huey and Duey, they came forward and forced Warfield to confess, sent him away. But I gave up. I thought Warfield was going to win, and it was because of this city."
"And the others? Me leaving you? Getting shot? Benny, those were my own choices, nothing to do with Chicago. Maybe they were bad choices, or at least, the first."
"I wasn't just leaving Chicago," Fraser insisted. "I saw this city, this place . . . more than that. I saw myself as a curse. All that happened, ever since I arrived in Chicago. Everytime I thought things were getting better, something happened to destroy them. Victoria. Zuko. Your leaving. Warfield. And then when you came back . . ." Another pause, then emphatically: "I'm sorry, Ray. You're my closest friend, and I don't want lose you. In part that’s why I left. I was afraid of it all happening again. Dragging you down."
"Benny, you never dragged me down. You're my friend, and I owe you more than I can ever say. But when you left, when you took Kowalski with you . . . He finally replaced me. You and he on some dumb Canadian heroic stunt, and I never heard from you, not after that first phonecall to tell me you were going."
"Well, to be fair Ray, there are very few phonelines out in . . ."
"I don't want to hear it."
Fraser looked up at his friend, blue eyes catching hazel. "You're wrong," he told him, seriously. "Stanley never replaced you. He is my partner, but you're my brother."
Ray blinked, taken aback. "Really? Jeez, Benny . . . I mean, I guess Ma and everybody always looked on you as one of the family. Maybe not Franny. But I guess I did. Only I never thought, well, that you looked on us as the same way."
"Ray, until Maggie came along I had no family. And even now, she's in Canada, and I'm here. She's my sister, and I want to know her better, and I know I'll have the chance in the future. But here, in Chicago, you and your family are my closest relatives."
"But you still left." Sullenly, almost petty in its childishness. It was not one of Vecchio's most attractive traits, but one he shared with Stanley and Fraser missed it.
"I was afraid of hurting you if I stayed."
"Why? Cos you thought you were a curse? Man, Benny, that's the dumbest thing I've heard even from you! I need you! All those months of being Armando Langoustini, I only had one hope, and that's that I'd come back home and you'd be here for me. But you weren't. You were glad to see me, I know, but almost all you could see was Muldoon and I could understand that, you know? And I got shot, and you left to go get him, and I wanted you to, Benny, I really did. Go get your man. But I thought you were gonna come back."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have left, it was wrong. But I needed to get away from Chicago."
"From me?"
"Not for the reasons you think. I . . . you were shot, Ray. And it was my fault. I couldn't face you. I was afraid that you wouldn't forgive me."
"Benny, I told you, it was my choice. He was going to shoot you."
"But it was my fault. The moment you step back in Chicago and I almost get you killed. I decided that it was enough, that I didn't want to lose you again."
"So you left instead, is that it?"
"I'm sorry. Lieutenant Welsh told me about you and Stella, and I thought . . ."
"What, that I'd be okay? Man, that was a mistake. Me on the rebound, out for something to grab on to and I grab on to her. Off to Florida. I can't believe we were so stupid. Doomed to failure from the start, but then that's the course of all my relationships with women. It only lasted a few months I know, while you were up North, but boy . . ."
"You can't know the future, Ray."
"No, but you want to know something really stupid? I think I was doing it to get back at Kowalski. He took you away from me, so I took Stella away from him. Only she was never his for me to take, she was her own woman, and I only realised that when it was too late."
"You thought you were in love."
"Yeah, well you know better than anyone that love sucks." A brief hiss of breath, then an: "I'm sorry. That was wrong, I shouldn't have said it. I'm sorry."
"No." Softly. "You're right."
"I can't remember the last time I argued with you, Benny, not over something serious. No, I lie, I can remember, and it was her fault. I could see our friendship falling apart."
"Like now?"
"Maybe. I only hope it doesn't end up in gunfire this time." A brief, downward flicker of eyes. "Can you forgive me for that? I know we never talked about it much. But I need to know, Benny. You can forgive me?"
"I never blamed you," Fraser told him.
"Liar."
"I . . ." Admitted: "Maybe at first. I thought I could help Victoria, I thought I loved her. But I was wrong. There was a darkness in her and I couldn't help her. But when she left, when I woke up after the operation, and I was alone . . . I thought . . ."
"What? That I'd taken her away from you? Benny, you were in love with her, and I tried to kill her. I shot you in the back just to keep you from her."
"It was an accident."
"I'm not so sure. I think I saw a gun, but I can't be positive, I can't say for certain that even if I knew that she was unarmed, I wouldn't have shot anyway. Because I hated her."
"I was wrong. I was going to go with her. Ray, I can never explain to you how I feel, about betraying you, about how she set you up, how you could have lost everything, your job, your home, your freedom, because I thought we could have something. Because I wanted to be with her."
Tears in his eyes, barely restrained. "I thought she loved me. But I was wrong. She hated me, she had to. Otherwise she wouldn't have left."
A long silence. Ray pulled away from his friend, emotionally, spiritually, but had to say something more. Maybe it would only make things worse, he wasn't sure, but it had to be said. He knew it was the truth.
"Benny . . . I think she did love you, you know. I know she tried to frame you, she shot Dief, she even considered killing you, but despite all of that . . . she wanted you to come with her. I saw her call out, on the train station, even if I never heard the words. I saw her reach out for you. But I tried to kill her. And I ended up hurting you all the same."
"But you've risked your life for me, more times than I probably know. And I only end up getting you hurt."
"And Kowalski? What, you thought it was okay to stick his neck out for you? Or you just don't get into the same situations as me and you seem to get in?"
"It's not like that. Stan . . . he was looking for something, and I'm not sure if he found it. He was afraid you were going to take his place here. Ray, you have to understand, when you came back . . . Stan owes you everything. The name, the job. He thinks he owes you me. Our partnership. But it's not true. You are two different people, and you are both my friends."
Vecchio appeared to seriously consider this for a moment. "I suppose he had a point," he acquiesced, reluctantly. "But I still missed you, Fraser. When I was undercover. When you were up North. And I blamed him for that, blamed you. Truth is, I think I could actually like the guy. Only you don’t tell him that."
"Ray, Stanley . . . When you left, I thought nothing could ever be the same, but life went on. And he's a good man, and he's my friend. I trust him more than I've ever trusted anybody. Except you. Because you made me who I am, Ray. You gave me a purpose, and you gave me hope, you gave me a family, and you gave me a partner. A friend. A brother."
"I gave you hope? After all I did? Shooting you? Benny . . ." A long, drawn-in breath. "I could have killed you. I mean, you were dying, out there on that train station platform. You told me you ought to be with her, and I knew you were going to go with her, I knew all along. And I took that chance away from you."
"If I had gone . . . Ray, how can you forgive me? I would have given up everything to be with her. Dief. My job. Chicago. And more than that; I would have left you. You and your family would have been homeless, you would have lost your shield, possibly even your freedom. And that was my fault."
"But I took her away from you. If it had been me in your place, if it was Irene on that train . . . I would have gone with her, and to hell with the consequences. I would have been wrong, but I still would have gone. And if you had your fingers on that trigger, if you heard that shot . . . Benny, I don't think I've ever been so scared. But if it was me, in your place . . . I could never have forgiven you."
"But you and Irene were in love. Victoria . . ." He suddenly wrapped his arms around himself, cold. "Maybe she loved me. I know I loved her. But we could never have been together, no matter what I thought . . . or what she hoped. And I would never have forgiven myself for making that mistake."
There was another long silence. Finally, Ray raised his head. "I'm sorry, Fraser. You left to go up North with Kowalski, and I can't say I understand why you did, and maybe that's why I'm really angry. I can't understand, I can't even lie and say that I do. It's like I came back from Las Vegas and suddenly you're this different person. Only maybe it's me who has changed, and I hate myself for it."
"Ray . . . My father once told me, that no matter how great the difference, or how long the time, partners will always be partners. You are closer to me than anyone has ever been. When I thought that . . . when I saw you were shot, after you only just returned . . . It was my fault. I was afraid I would lose you, and never get a chance to tell you how glad I was to see you again, to have you as my friend. How much I owe you. And I was afraid of coming back from the North to see you, afraid of meeting you. Afraid that you wouldn't forgive me for hurting you."
"Benny, you only hurt me when you left. I needed you, maybe I always needed you. I needed you after Victoria, and you were there for me, after everything I did to you. You were there for me when Irene died. You would have been there for me if I had chance to say goodbye, you would have told me that everything was going to be okay, and you'd promise that we'd be partners again. But after Armando Langoustini, and after meeting Kowalski, and after Stella . . . you weren't there. And I've realised that I'm being selfish. Stupid, huh? All this time, and I thought I could come back and everything would be the same. I was wrong. And I'm blaming you for that, for my mistakes."
Gently: "Its not stupid, Ray. You're right to be angry. If I could undo things . . . then perhaps I would have still gone up North. But not for as long. And I would have said goodbye."
"I guess we all make mistakes." A slight pause. "This Warfield guy . . . I remember. I mean, Franny was filling me in on things, while I was in hospital. She skimmed over the details, but I remembered, and after I got back from Florida, after me and Stella split up . . . I looked up Kowalski's report. They got you pretty bad."
"It was my own fault. Stubborn pride."
"You, Benny? Stubborn? Yeah, I guess that's one of your less appealing traits. Man, you can be so damn obstinate when you want to be. It's gonna get you killed, one of these days. Only worse . . . the first time, with Zuko, that was my fault. My own, stupid cowardice. I'm sorry I never stood up to him sooner. I thought Kowalski . . . well, you said he was a good man. But I guess he made a mistake. Couldn't protect you."
"He warned me. But I didn't listen."
"You never listen, Fraser. Or maybe you do, maybe you listen too hard, and that's the problem."
"And you, Ray? When you were undercover, when you were Armando, what then?"
"Not stubborn enough. Fraser, some of the stuff I had to turn a blind eye to, some of the stuff I had to order, or I was supposed to order . . . People were hurt because of me. Maybe they weren't wonderful people, but you believe in people, Benny. You started to make me think the same way - I guess you have that effect on people. But in Vegas . . . I'm not sure if I can live with some of the stuff I saw, the things I allowed to happen."
"It was for a greater good, Ray. Your work helped convict some large names."
"And all the little stuff gets swept under the rug." A shaky sigh. "I can still remember the faces, their voices. All trying to please me, and me sucking up to even bigger fish. The Bookman. I hated it. Thought I was losing myself. But I always thought you'd be here for me when I got back - though I never thought I'd open the door to you."
"I almost got you killed."
"Not your fault, Benny. If the Feds had done it right, they would have known. Only then you would never have found me. I know you think you screwed up, you broke my cover, but I owe you for that. They weren't sure how much longer it was going to go on for. I thought a couple of months, at first, but a year, and never a word? I never felt so alone. And they told me it could take longer, and I could feel pieces of Ray Vecchio slipping away, like I was becoming him. Armando."
"But you're back."
"Yes."
"Ray, I promise, I will be there for you. Things will be okay again."
"And you're going to help?"
"If you'll let me."
Another pause.
"Benny, about everything . . . me blowing up at you. That was wrong. Well, maybe not wrong, I kinda still think you had it coming, but so did I. I'm just sorry for some of the things I said. And about your mother . . . If it had been Ma . . . I can't believe you never thought about killing him."
"Who said I didn't?"
Another pause.
"So . . . nothing is ever going to be the same again?"
"No Ray, I don't think it can."
"But me and you, we're partners?"
"Closer than that."
"Good. And Kowalski . . . Is he any good at pool?"
"No, Ray."
"And poker?"
A slight smile. "Perhaps you should have a game."
"Maybe."
Another silence, broken by a voice.
"Hey, Fraser!"
Looking up, the Mountie shuffled his feet in the snow to stop them from going numb, and blinked across the small rise to where Kowalski was busy preparing the huskies.
"You finished talking to yourself yet?"
He gave a slight smile, the voice of Ray already dying away. He was alone, in this small space in a glacial pit, but it was only a passing cold. He knew, somehow, that it wasn't the same. Ray was back in Chicago, waiting for him. Angry, probably. Afraid. They would have things to talk about. But neither of them would be alone again. And this time there was Kowalski, and Fraser had a feeling that the bickering wouldn't last. Both of them, good men. His friends.
"Yo, Fraser! Are you ready?"
A slightly foolish grin at Dief, who padded patiently around his feet.
"I'm ready."
*
In his own, new, apartment in Chicago, that still smelt heavily of paint, contents spilling from boxes and with the general aura of having just moved in, Ray Vecchio sat down on a dust sheet and gave a rueful smile.
"Talking to myself again. I really gotta stop doing that, or Welsh'll put me away."
He picked up the postcard from the coffee table, a slightly crumpled picture of white snow and mountains. Not much on the back, just general Fraser small talk, skirting around any major issue. Kowalski probably helped him write it.
"Me, play poker with the bag lady? Fraser would never suggest that. Man, can you imagine how much I would beat that guy? He'd be living in a box and still owe me money."
Sat in a small glass tank, on top of the coffee table, the turtle blinked at the human rather disinterestedly. Ray stared back.
"Who owns a bloody turtle for a pet anyway? A dog, maybe, or a cat, or even a hamster. One that can swim. But a turtle?" Another pause. "Sorry. I know, Kowalski, well, you're probably very affectionate towards him. If a turtle can be affectionate."
The small creature gave Ray another pointed look, then turned its back. Sighing, the detective sank back onto the couch, tapping the postcard against his other hand.
"Benny will be back soon. And I'm going to have to talk to him. I owe him, and he owes me. I guess that's the way it's always going to be. And I have to talk to him about Franny, I mean, Fraser and my sister?"
There was a slight pause, and then he addressed the next comment to the empty air. "And Kowalski? You had better have a damn good explanation for losing my car."
These characters are not mine, I only borrowed them and promise to put them back when I'm done! Comments appreciated.