by Lazuli
Part 16 ~ Behind The Door
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A day wasted, Ben
grumbled, annoyed that his condition had put paid to the initial steps in
finding Diefenbaker. “You were in no
state to do anything,” Ray pointed out; it didn’t help. Ben grouched some
more under his breath, but Ray was pleased that the focus had shifted back to
day to day irritants, rather than the huge elephant in the room that was
Trantor, and an unfinished conversation. “Can we go to the
park?” “Yes, we can, if you
can cope.” “I’m not an
invalid,” Ben snapped. “Or at least that’s what you tell me.” “While you’re in the
mood to take on the world, we’ll stop at the 29th, and see about
getting our statements taken. Then at least they’re done and we can forget
about it for now.” “I never forget.” Ray sighed, cross at
his own thoughtlessness. “Yeah, that was
stupid. I mean, we won’t have to do something…” “I know what you
meant,” once again delivered with venom. Ray shut up, seeing
as he was making everything worse, and it was getting harder to accept Ben’s
temper this morning without giving back as good as he was given, as was his
bombastic nature. “Just have to make a
call,” he threw over his shoulder as he headed for the garden, knowing Ben
still wouldn’t follow him out there, and prepared to fake a conversation to
escape for a while. “Ray!” That stopped him in
his tracks. Gone was the irritation and aggression, Ben was back to not wanting
to be left alone, and the changed tone of voice was almost enough to bring Ray
to his knees. But he turned back with a polite smile. “Benny?” “I’m… I can’t help
it today, I’m sorry.” “It’s not okay, but
it’s okay. I understand.” “And I don’t,” Ben
said pitifully. “I need you so much and you’re the one I’m lashing out at.” “That’s normal. Person
closest yada, yada.” “But it’s not
right.” “Stop trying to be
superhuman. You’ve every right to be bitter and twisted, just allow me a five
minute break once an hour and we’ll be fine.” Ben drew breath to
speak, stopped, went again, and finally said what he needed to. “The evidence is all
circumstantial. Without anything to tie him to the murders, he’s going to get
away with everything he’s done.” “He drove us off the
road and was about to shoot me,” Ray spelt out. “Road rage? That’s
hardly a life sentence. I’m the one with that.” “He assaulted two
serving police officers, he isn’t getting away with anything.” “We’re both alive;
he could get as little as five years. And then it all starts again, because he’s
not going to give up until we’re both slaughtered.” “This is the PTSD
talking. You know we won’t be hung out to dry on this.” “No, I don’t know. I’m…I’m…” Ray saw the panic
attack creeping up and clapped his hands hard three times, making Ben jump and
diverting his attention. “What were we
listening to last night?” Ben looked blankly at Ray for several seconds. “C’mon,
we danced, what were we dancing to?” “Wait, wait… Casablanca.
As Time Goes By.” “Who sang it in the
film?” “I don’t— Sam. Dooley
Wilson.” “Who played the
cop?” Ben had to stop and
think; Ray saw the panic attack ebbing away and breathed a sigh of relief. “That was… Was
Humphrey Bogart a police officer?” “Nope.” “The Invisible Man.” “What?” “Yes, Claude Rains.” “Was it?” “You asked.” “But I didn’t know
the answer, that kind of thing’s always been your territory.” Ben flexed his
hands, as if suddenly noticing they’d stopped shaking. “Oh, Ray,” he said
under his breath, and the emotion in that was as good as any declaration of
love that Ray had ever heard. “Want to go to the
park?” “Weren’t you making
a call?” “I lied.” “I know.” Ray went to Ben,
tilted his head up with a finger under the chin, and leaned in for a kiss,
feeling ridiculously bold and still vaguely illegal. “Love you, Benny.” “Thank you.” “What are you, a
space cowboy?” Ray prodded, and Ben finally smiled. “I love you too.” “That’s better. Park?” … They took the
t-shirts they’d slept in to the park. Ben’s scent would obviously be more appealing
to Diefenbaker, but as Ray had spent a good amount of time that night glued to
Ben’s side, the scent would surely have been transferred. Ben chose where to leave
the shirts, becoming subdued when they reached the area where he’d told
Diefenbaker to abandon him, but being reminded a dozen times that this, here
and now, was the start of getting the two – now three – of them reunited. “Tomorrow we’ll come
back and there’ll be a tramp wearing your t-shirt and a wolf following him
around.” “Do we have to wait
until tomorrow? Could we come back later today?” Ray gave a shrug. “I don’t mind coming
back every hour, but it’ll be quicker if you wait at home.” “I don’t want to be
there alone.” “Then it becomes
every other hour, you happy with that?” “I don’t mind the
effort to get in and out of the car.” “I know, but you’re
not as flexible today, haven’t you noticed?” “I have now,” Ben
muttered, turning his chair away from Ray and staring over the park. “Let’s walk a
circuit. Give a miracle a chance to happen.” They took the path
to the left. “It wouldn’t need to
be a miracle, it would just need Diefenbaker to be paying attention to his greater
surroundings. Wolves have an exceptional sense of smell, possibly as much as
one hundred times stronger than humans.” “He can certainly
detect a concealed cookie at three hundred paces, maybe that’s what we should
have brought.” They kept walking
and driving, heads on a swivel, until they were back close to where they’d
parked. Sadly it wasn’t the day for a miracle, and they resignedly returned to
the car. Next stop was the 29th,
where they met Lieutenant Jameson and discussed the issues with Ben giving a
statement. Jameson was teetering on retirement and, despite a somewhat gruff
exterior, had clear knowledge and emotional understanding of what Ben was
experiencing. “Had family in
‘Nam,” he confided to Ray when Ben wasn’t in earshot, and that explained a lot. It was agreed that
Ben’s statement could be taken under medical supervision at the IRF, and the
wheels set in motion. As they returned to
the car Ray mentally juggled when to raise the next setback, which could be
major, could be minor. “Can we go via the
park?” Ben asked before Ray could find the words. “Sure.” Almost at the park,
Ben broached the unspoken subject. “What’s preoccupying
you?” “I don’t even want
to say, but maybe you’ve already figured it out.” “I’ll brace myself,”
Ben semi-joked, grabbing the edges of his seat and clinging on. Nevertheless, Ray
still chose to wait until they were parked up. “When you give your
statement I won’t be able to be in the room with you. I’m a witness too, and we
can’t sit in on one another’s interviews.” Ben nodded as he
thought the situation over, automatically reaching out to take Ray’s hand. “I’ll have to
manage,” he said resolutely. “I have no choice.” “But you will have drugs,”
Ray pointed out. “Lots and lots of drugs.” “Yes, drugs.” Ray parked up and they
looked at one another, Ben bleak and Ray willing him to have strength. “You’ll get through
it, and I’ll be waiting in the corridor, right outside the door, and…” Ray’s
voice trailed off, knowing that there was nothing he could say to make things
any easier. “Do you mind if I
wait in the car while you take a look?” “Thank you for
changing the subject. I owe you.” Ray left the car and
wandered around in the vicinity for a short while, hoping that Diefenbaker was
utilising his alleged superior olfactory senses to zero in on Ben’s t-shirt,
but no sign of the wolf. He gave it ten minutes then made his way back to where
he’d parked, trying to think of some way to cheer Ben up, but how did you do
that? When someone’s life is falling apart, a pint of ice cream isn’t going to
hit the spot. Thirty feet away
from the car Ray stalled, barely able to believe what he was seeing. Ben’s car
door was open and he was currently being smothered by a mass of dirty white fur
as Diefenbaker joyfully reunited with his pack mate. The happiness on Ben’s
face brought tears to Ray’s eyes, and he gave them another few minutes to greet
one another before joining them in the car and being licked and trampled, happy
to let it happen without complaint for once because he was equally as ecstatic. Just what they
needed. Although it soon became clear that what Dief specifically needed was a long, soapy shower, and they went home
via a pet store to pick up shampoo, bowls, food, bed and, on consideration,
more shampoo. … Ray was contemplating
how amazing animals are as he watched Diefenbaker trot alongside the wheelchair
as comfortably as he’d always trotted alongside Ben when he was on his feet. No
questioning, or judging, just a damn good sniff and a few sneaky attempts at
catching a ride. The questionable
pleasure of washing the wolf fell to Ray. Diefenbaker was torn between ‘game?’
and ‘no thanks’, but after Ben joined them in the wet room it became a sodden
caper between the three of them. Ben’s habitual toe wiggling was taken as an
invitation and he soon lost both socks to the wolf, and as Ray sat back on his
heels to watch Ben trying to negotiate with Diefenbaker, who was firmly
exploiting his deafness to ignore any instruction or reasoning, he realised
this was as happy as they could be. Soaked and distracted, but present and in
the moment. In future days it would be something to aspire to. Diefenbaker dried
off and pretending to pay attention to Ben, although quite clearly humouring him
over not getting on the furniture, Ray left them arguing as he went to see to
dinner, quietly content to listen to the background lecture and the wolf’s
defiant objections to the concept of behaving himself. It wasn’t long
before Ben joined him, waiting until Ray wasn’t occupied to catch his attention
by clearing his throat. Ray looked a question, and Ben gave an apologetic
smile. “I’m sorry for being
so unpleasant for the past couple of days. Or however long. I’ve been behaving
atrociously and I can’t seem to stop it.” “Before you go any
further, can I tell you something?” Ben nodded. “I need you to know that I
don’t like or love you less when you’re struggling. Sometimes I love you more
because you’re trying so hard to be yourself, and at the moment, that guy is
somewhere out of reach. He’s creeping back, one toe at a time, but meantime you
get to be erratic, and unpredictable and as whiney as your wolf because… Free
pass. When you’re as better as you can be you can make it up to me, but for now
concentrate on what really matters. Like…getting Dief off the sofa.” Ben accepted Ray’s
words in silence and drove off to have another conversation with Diefenbaker. Ray
watched him go and wondered if he’d listened. Sometimes he couldn’t cope with being
given permission to be an asshole, and turned as deaf as his wolf. Ray observed from
the kitchen as Diefenbaker jumped down from the sofa and straight onto an
armchair. “Tell him he can sit
on the furniture when we get our own place. Which reminds me, we need to get
our own place.” Diefenbaker jumped
down from the armchair and straight back onto the sofa. “This must be what
it’s like to have kids,” Ray observed before calling to Ben. “Just tell him not
to draw on the walls.” Over dinner they
spoke about houses, Ray excited by the prospect of their own place, Ben
strangely, or maybe not so strangely, unenthusiastic about another move. “Is it the challenge
of moving, and finding the furniture we want, that kind of thing, or is it a
fear of change?” Ben carefully
thought it over. “I don’t know.” “Okay, can we narrow
it down a bit?” “I don’t know that
either.” Ray finished his
food, knowing this conversation was due to run and not wanting cold lasagne and
wilted salad. He brought a couple of beers over from the fridge and placed one
down very deliberately in front of Ben, who viewed it with suspicion before
pushing the bottle over to Ray’s side of the table. “I think… That
wherever we are, I’m not going to feel safe,” Ben confessed. “I know that
doesn’t make much sense, but there’s not a lot of sense involved in my thinking
process these days. It’s all instinct over intellect. One minute I’m rational,
the next… Well, you’ve seen for yourself.” “You’re having
therapy, you’ll get better.” Ben tapped his
temple. “Trantor was right.” “Stop saying that.” “If I stop saying
it, it won’t go away, I’ll simply have stopped saying it. He’s there, Ray. Always
there. And he’s going to ruin a new house, a new city, a new country, wherever
we run to to escape from him. In the end he’ll ruin us too, because why would
you want to live with so many restrictions?” “You know that’s not
going to happen, nothing will ruin us, this is it now.” “You want a house
and, obviously, we’ll inevitably have to move because this place will be
awarded to someone who needs it more. But at least here it feels familiar now,
I’m not scared to go into the bedroom by myself because I don’t know who’s
behind the door.” Ray’s face showed
his shock at that statement. “It’s that bad?” “Yes.” “Why haven’t you
said?” “You have enough to
put up with.” “I knew you were
jumpy at first, but… You should’ve said, I could’ve helped more.” “But I have to get
used to this. If we move I have to start all over again, and I accept that, but
I’m avoiding rushing into it.” “Is it him? Behind
the door?” Ben gave a sad
smile. “Ray, it’s him
everywhere. Plus I’m aware that, the more anxious I am over this, the less able
I am. I know you’d like to think I’m getting better because the bullet site is
still healing, but they were right. My disability is in my head. It’s something
else we need to consider when finding a new property. On days when my PTSD is
bad, I’ll need somewhere disabled-friendly. On good days, I imagine a standard
property will be more than adequate.” “Can I ask you
something about that day coming back from Florida?” Ben hesitated before
unenthusiastically nodding. “From that first
bang we heard to Trantor being taken away: was it
over so fast you barely had time to process it? So your brain hasn’t caught up
and thinks it’s not over?” “Perhaps. I don’t know.” “And you weren’t
conscious for all of it. Do you remember being knocked out in the car when we
crashed, or had you passed out?” “I do have a bump on
my head so perhaps I was knocked out, but I could have banged my head because I
was already out cold and unable to stop it happening.” “This is splitting
hairs now… Do you feel like you woke up, or came to?” “There’s a
difference?” “I think so.” Ben took his time
analysing that, only to finally answer the question with a shrug. “And you don’t remember
walking from the car to where I was with Trantor,” Ray confirmed information
Ben had told him previously. “No. I wish I did. I
certainly wish I remembered hitting him. My first memory at that point was
seeing you and being on the ground.” Ben frowned. “The mental picture seems
vaguer than before. Perhaps it’s as well I’m making a statement sooner rather
than later.” Now it was Ray’s
turn to think, but his mind had zipped back to where they’d started. “Right, I’m
thinking… If we have to leave the bungalow before we find anything new, we go
back to Florida for a while. I’ll teach Dief how to manage the elevator, and I
will bribe Pete and Felipe to let him in and out when he wants. How’s that?” “We’ve just brought
everything here.” Ray shrugged a so what, making Ben smile. “I suppose it will
be a while before I can go back to work. If ever. So…yes.” “You did like the
place.” “I did, it felt
safe, and… It’s hard to find a good barber.” Ray gave a brisk
round of applause to that decision being made, cleared the table and leant over
the back of Ben’s chair to give him a hug. Ben reached up and pulled Ray’s arms
closer, leaning his head back with a satisfied sigh. “Ray… Can you please
save me from myself?” “Benny, I will save
you from everything,” Ray promised. … That night, Ben
asked Ray to help him lay on his side, and it was achieved far more easily than
anticipated, Ray noticing that the improved movement in Ben’s right leg was a
great help, although he kept that observation to himself. Once in bed Ray
realised it hadn’t all been about comfort, as Ben pulled him close and leaned
in, bringing Ray’s face around and helping himself to a kiss or two. The whole
strangeness of a kiss in bed – morally questionable, his upbringing insisted –
as opposed to a kiss in the living room – somewhat safe due to verticality –
soon passed and Ray relaxed into the show of affection. He held Ben’s hand to
his chest so he could feel the accelerated pounding of his heart. “I hope that’s not a
panic attack,” Ben murmured. “No,” Ray confirmed.
“No panic. Not anymore.” … It took many hours
for Ben to give his statement regarding what had happened in Canada, and then
in America. Ray waited in the corridor, anxious and pacing or sitting and
swearing to himself about the rules that meant he couldn’t be in the room to
support Ben. Lieutenant Jameson
had chosen to conduct the interview himself, and as he was on his way into the
room he’d given Ray an encouraging nod. At least Ray felt it was meant to be
encouraging, because Jameson had given the impression he understood Ben’s
condition. They’d had to take a
break after a while for Ben to recover from the account he’d given so far, and
Ray was allowed in then, his partner’s white face and continuous trembling,
even under medication, made Ray angrier still at how Ben’s life had been
destroyed by Ethan Trantor and his perverse ideas about ‘games’. When the interview
was eventually concluded, Doctors Elliott and Lee suggested to Ray that Ben was
better off kept in the IRF for the night under strong sedation, and with
regular observation. Ray agreed, and not even reluctantly. He had little
choice. Ben was frozen again and there was no way he’d even get him into the
car. Tonic immobility, Ray remembered from Doctor Elliott’s early description
of Ben’s condition, and at the time he’d thought it was nonsense. This was
Benton Fraser, superhero, they were talking about. His wonderful, beautiful,
broken superhero. “There’s a treatment
I’d like Mr Fraser to consider,” Doctor Lee explained as they sat outside the
room where Ben would be spending the night. “It’s called EMDR, which stands for
Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing.” “You’re about to
give me lots of pieces of paper, aren’t you.” Doctor Lee smiled
and handed over several information sheets. “I’ll talk to Mr
Fraser when he’s ready, but you need to understand how it works too.” “And does it? Work?” “It can be
extraordinarily effective, and it can hand control back to the patient. That
alone is hugely therapeutic.” “If he needs
persuading, I’ll try my best. He needs something.” “I know,” the doctor
said sympathetically. “It’s not just the
freezing when he gets overwhelmed, that’s actually pretty new, it’s his whole
life. He can’t relax, he’s always on edge and listening, he’s forever waiting
for trouble, sometimes he can’t even bring himself to look out the window on a
sunny day, and he almost shakes himself to pieces over a harmless noise. Then the
nights… God, his nightmares…” Ray took a second to compose himself; Lee simply
waited. “You know all about that Trantor guy now. Well, some days I’ve lost
count of how many times Benny’s asked me to make sure he’s still locked up, and
to check there’s been no lapse in security so he could escape. I’ve resorted to
faking phone calls. I go into the garden because he still won’t risk going out
there, and I pretend to make calls. Then I tell him everything’s okay, and I
swear he knows I’m lying but he takes it because he thinks he’s driving me
insane and I’m going to bail on him.” “Is he able to be
reassured regarding that at least?” “Yes, so far, but… Can
I be honest with you?” “Of course.” “I’m scared it’s not
enough. One time he frightened me because he sounded so self-destructive. I
don’t think he’d actually hurt himself, and that exact moment’s long gone, but I
don’t know. What if something in his head says I’m deserting him and I can’t convince
him that I’m staying, and he panics? Sometimes it’s like he’s in this zone
where everything is one big lie, and one long deception, and then Trantor’s
hiding behind doors in the bungalow.” “People who have
experienced the kind of trauma that Mr Fraser’s gone though can’t help
themselves imagining worst case scenarios. The brain uses these scenarios to
make itself ready for when the event it fears occurs. It’s a little like…” she
gestured at Ray, “being a police officer: your training teaches you how to cope
when certain situations arise, whether it’s knowing traffic regulations, or
stopping a bank robbery. In day to day life, most of us are aware of, but not
fixated on, traffic regulations, but Mr Fraser’s brain is constantly preparing
for a bank robbery. “His brain is on
high alert, waiting for one of these scenarios to play out, and trying to ready
itself for when the danger emerges. His brain’s working overtime, he’s played
the scene a thousand times, and he’s ready for Trantor to be behind the bedroom
door. He won’t get caught out again. It’s a defence mechanism, but an out of
control one. I believe the EMDR will give Mr Fraser the control back.” “Is this something
you can do?” “I’d bring a
specialist in. The truly amazing thing? Sometimes it doesn’t need more than
three sessions to help the patient regain a working control of their
condition.” Ray took a moment to
let that sink in. “Sounds too good to
be true.” “Read the paperwork.
There are some case studies included. I think you’ll be impressed.” After Doctor Lee had
left him, Ray read through the papers he’d been given and started to feel a
spark of hope. Having lived with how bad the problem could be there was a
streak of pessimism that tried to raise its nasty head, but Ray reminded
himself that the mass of papers he’d been given before had led to the
distraction technique he now successfully used with Ben to head off panic
attacks. Okay, much of the rest was way over his head in terms of sophisticated
jargon, but there were some gems of information that had helped him help Ben. Instantly alert as
someone approached Ben’s room, Ray found himself tensing, still overly
protective in this environment, a throwback to when he thought that the IRF
itself was the problem. It had been painful to learn it wasn’t the IRF that was
the problem; everywhere was the
problem. Ben’s troubled mind was the problem. The nurse was in and
out of the room within minutes. “You can go in now,”
she smiled as she exited. Ray thanked her and
was through the door before it had a chance to close. At Ben’s side, he picked
up a hand and stroked it. “Hope you’re
enjoying the peace,” he said softly, and was surprised when Ben’s eyes drowsily
opened. Focusing on Ray seemed to be a bit of a challenge, but Ben knew he was
there. “Hey, Benny. Shouldn’t you be out of it?” “I am. Enough.” “Is it nice?” “I can barely
remember my own name, so…yes.” Ray leant over and
pressed a kiss to Ben’s forehead. “Go to sleep. I’m
going home to check on Dief then I’ll be back and staying. You’re safe now. Go
to sleep. ” Ben accepted that
immediately, and his eyes closed. “Love you, Ray,” he
murmured as he drifted off. “Love you too,
Benny.” Diefenbaker had
settled in nicely, still on the sofa – Ray would have to have that
professionally cleaned when they moved out – and making the most of the
excessive amount of food he’d been left to tide him over while they were at the
IRF. Not that needed fattening up, Ben had clearly been right about Diefenbaker
finding kind souls to feed him. Ray explained that he had to go back to the
hospital (because how would a wolf know what an IRF was?) to stay with Ben,
enunciating clearly whilst inwardly ridiculing himself. It felt absurd, but if
Ben asked if Dief knew where they were spending the night, Ray didn’t want to
lie. With a wolf in
residence Ray had felt blasé enough to leave the back door open just wide
enough for Dief to get in and out of the garden, and he’d neglected to set the
alarm. Of course he hadn’t told Ben about his lax security, but if anyone
wanted to sneak in and take on a damn wolf they deserved whatever they got, and
Ray didn’t mean valuables. Ray gave Lieutenant
Jameson a call and, although the man was professional enough not to discuss the
interview he’d conducted with Ben, he was audibly fuming and had already been
in contact with the detachment in Canada that was investigating John and Sara’s
murder, putting pressure on them and spelling out why they had to find the
evidence to convict Trantor for every crime he’d committed. “I want that bastard
on death row,” Jameson seethed. Ray wasn’t about to
disagree for a moment. Back at the IRF Ray was delighted to find Ben deeply asleep, and whether it was drugs, or exhaustion, or having had the opportunity to expose Trantor for what he was and set the ball rolling to get the man sent down, Ray was grateful. Ben looked at peace, and it was a rare and beautiful thing. Dozing in his chair in the early hours of the morning, Ray was instantly awake when he heard Ben stirring. He crept to the bed, trying to be as quiet as possible in the hope that Ben would go back to sleep, but Ben was already looking for him, reaching out a hand and smiling as Ray took it. “Hey, how you feeling?” Ray whispered. “Can we go home now?” Ben asked, sounding not entirely lucid. “You’re high as a kite, you need to stay here.” “I want go home and eat toast and dance and make love to you.” Ray started to answer but his voice had shot up an entire octave. He cleared his throat and tried again. “That’s…not something you should tell the doctors.” “Can I tell you something?” Risky. Ray wasn’t entirely sure his deeply entrenched Catholic guilt could take another frank admission, but… “Sure you can.” “I’m going to walk out of here…” “That would be great, please do that.” “…and then I’m going to Canada to find evidence…” “Someone else is doing that right now, you don’t have to worry about that.” “…and I will find the Erebus, and the Terror.” Ray breathed a sigh of relief; he’d rather a rambling Ben than a sleuthing one, especially in his present condition. “Boats, okay.” “Because someone has to.” “Okay, that’s a good life goal. But you’ll need your sleep first. Sleep? How does sleep sound?” Ben blinked a couple of times and focused on Ray as if he’d forgotten he was there. “Hi, Ray.” “Hey, Benny.” “Can we go home now?” “In the morning. First you need to sleep.” Fumbling to grab the collar of Ray’s shirt, Ben finally managed to secure a hold and pull Ray in for a kiss. At first it felt too public for Ray, but then what he was doing became a bigger deal than where he was doing it, and he kissed Ben until he passed out. He was perversely amused by the thought of it being his mind-numbing kissing skills rather than the drugs that did it. “You’re welcome,” Ray whispered, and crept back to his chair. He watched Ben sleep, hoping the medication would keep away the nightmares, and that Ben would know perfect peace, at least for the few short hours before the next challenging day began. Then Ray thought about the bungalow, and mentally picked through the logistics of removing all the unnecessary doors. After all, if there was no bedroom door, there was no way Trantor could be behind it. But if there was no bedroom door, there was also no way of keeping Diefenbaker out: their nights would get very cosy indeed with that furry lump sprawled all over them. Ray shifted about in his chair, trying to find a comfortable spot that would allow him to get some sleep too. One last peek at Ben’s untroubled features and, reassured, Ray closed his eyes.
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