by Lazuli

Part 18 ~ The Game

Days passed, and Ray began to wonder about the Nokia and its codes. Had the system been changed, or abandoned? Obviously there was no way to check and nobody to ask, but those questions niggled at him constantly.

And then came the day when Ray got back from grocery shopping to see Ben sitting with a look of complete shock on his face, a perplexed Diefenbaker sitting protectively at his feet. There was always a moment of alarm to be crushed down when Ben looked this troubled, and Ray dropped the grocery bags in the kitchen before hurrying to Ben’s side. Just as he got there his phone began to ring.

“You okay, Benny?”

“Yes.”

As hard as Ray tried to ignore the phone he couldn’t.

“I have to take this, I’ll make it quick. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ben said numbly. “Just fine.”

The call’s timing was annoying, but the content essential. Liberating. Only seconds in, Ray knew without asking why Ben was overwhelmed. As soon as he hung up he went back to Ben and sat with him.

“Okay, Benny…”

“Max called.”

“So you know.”

“He said he’s dead. Trantor’s dead.”

“Yes. They found him hanging in his cell.”

“So…it’s true?”

“It’s true. You really okay, can I get you something?”

“Ray… Is it true about Trantor?”

“Trantor’s dead, they found him hanging in his cell. It’s over, Benny. He’s out of your life, you’ll never have to testify, and…” Ray waved his hand in front of Ben’s face. “You with me?”

Ben snapped out of his daze, reaching out to take Ray’s hand and hanging on. He seemed on the verge of losing focus again but dragged himself back.

“It’s as if… I feel like the ground has fallen away.”

“No, it’s as solid as ever. You want to stand up?”

“I don’t think I can right now.”

“You will. We both know you will. Especially now.”

“This isn’t a cure,” Ben insisted.

“I know,” Ray agreed.

“And I think I need some time to simply assimilate the news.”

Ray accepted that, silently observing as Ben turned the chair, surprisingly driving into the garden and humming tunelessly as he went. Diefenbaker immediately followed, sticking unusually close to Ben. He glanced back at Ray, receiving a double thumbs up and cocking an expressive ear in an unfathomable response.

Putting the groceries away, Ray’s eyes kept wandering to the drawer where the Nokia sat. He didn’t necessarily enjoy the frisson of excitement he felt, but he recognised it. Hanging in his cell. Mob classic.

Ray was browsing through a newspaper when Ben drove back into the living room, quietly and constantly on alert in case Ben needed him. Not today though. He put the paper aside as Ben pulled up in front of him, admiring the healthy flush of pink he’d gained from the sunshine.

“Why would he do that?” Ben asked without preamble. “It seems completely out of character. Surely if he’d been thinking the same as me, that it could just be five years…”

Ray silenced him by holding up his hand.

“My phone call? That was Welsh. He heard from his contact in Canada. They found Trantor’s hideout and all his possessions, so the Mounties now have his knife and saw and can match them to the cut marks on the victims’ bones. They also found…” Ray hesitated, but Ben gestured for him to continue. “He had Polaroid pictures of his victims, in various stages— You know what I’m saying, I don’t have to spell it out.”

“The authorities told him they’d found this?”

“They did. Coincidentally not long before he started tearing up his bed sheet. He must have realised he was heading for death row, and if the moratorium on executions doesn’t hold he’d be looking at the injection if not the chair.”

Ben thought for a moment. And in those quiet seconds Ray, not for the first time, wondered who the mob had on the inside, because the timing was exquisite.

“He was very much about control,” Ben eventually said. “Perhaps his life – his death – was the last thing he had control over.”

“He saw himself as a big man, but just like all the other lowlife scum that go the same way, he became a damn coward over what he was about to face.”

“He lost the game,” Ben said with sudden insight.

“He lost the game,” Ray repeated with satisfaction. “I think he’d rather die than see you get the win.”

Ben hummed for a few seconds.

“I want to be relieved he’s gone, or even grateful that I don’t have to testify…”

“That’s the one, that’s what you hold on to.”

“I agree, for me that’s a huge relief, but… My thoughts can’t help go to his victims. He gets to avoid justice.”

“Oh, no, Benny, this is justice. Natural justice. For you, because you’re as much a victim as your friends. For all of you, including the people whose names we’ll probably never know and, let’s be honest here, he was never going to tell us, he would have enjoyed not telling us. Natural justice. Maybe, for Trantor, it was about holding on to control, but he did us all a favour in the process. He lost the game. You win, Benny.”

Ben studied Ray’s face for a moment.

“I think your Armando is showing.”

Ray chuckled.

“Really?”

“You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“You bet your life I am. You won the game and he knew it. I bet that burned all the way down.”

The humming started again as Ben backed off and turned to drive away.

“Benny, you want to go out today?”

“Not today. If you don’t mind.”

“You need to stop dwelling on that sorry piece of shit, and we need to see that house before someone else snaps it up. I checked and the seller is happy for us to have a private viewing, and to take Dief in with us for a look round. I explained he’d have to okay the garden.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea while I feel so troubled.”

“And I think it’s a great way to refocus. Don’t make me call Miriam,” Ray threatened.

Ben turned back with an incredulous smile.

“Ridiculous how that works.”

“So we can go?”

“I don’t… Yes. Yes, we can go.”

“You round up the wolf, I’ll call the owner.”

Ray watched Ben roll away to the garden and thought about how he’d referenced Armando. Maybe it was time to put the mobster to bed for once and for all, if that was indeed possible. Ray pretended to curse his overprotective streak where Benny was involved, before being completely honest with himself. That Nokia wasn’t going anywhere.

…

As they wandered around the house it soon became obvious that they’d both made their minds up within the first thirty seconds of arriving. The owner showing them the property was an older lady who was happy to share many stories of the house’s history. The ramps at the front and back of the house, for instance, were put in place when her father lived with her and her husband, and was, to quote the lady in question, ‘a whiny, decrepit old fossil’. Now her husband had passed, the house was just too big and she was looking forward to a small apartment somewhere without the ‘millstone of a shit heap garden that I never wanted in the first damn place’. When Ben sympathised with the loss of her husband she snorted and waved his sympathy away with, ‘I wish he’d kicked the bucket when I still would have had time to be a loose woman’.

“I like the house, and I love her,” Ray said with a grin when Mrs Schmidt gave them space to finish looking around by themselves. “She’s what I would have eventually turned into without you.”

Ben said nothing but looked quite smug as he drove away into the next room.

The house’s layout was interesting. It worked for now, and would certainly work for when Ben was entirely back on his feet. From the front it looked like a single storey house, but the land it was built on dropped away quite steeply so the rear of the house had a second, lower level. All of the essential rooms were on the main level with the downstairs, via stairs or a compact wheelchair elevator, being quite open and spacious.

“Pool table,” Ray pictured as he gestured towards one end of the lower room. “Exercise equipment,” as he pointed to the other end.

“Dance floor,” Ben added as he turned the chair this way and that in the centre of the room.

The main floor had a balcony overlooking the garden, which was accessed via the lower floor, with powered sliding doors opening out onto a smooth, wheelchair-friendly patio. They watched as Diefenbaker explored the large, enclosed garden, debating what features he’d be utilising to escape as soon as their backs were turned.

Once they’d seen enough they said their goodbyes and told Mrs Schmidt they’d be in touch. In parting, Ray assured her that he’d seen it all, and she still had plenty of time to be a loose woman. Her reaction suggested he’d made a friend for life.

Back in the car they took one last look at the front aspect of the property before driving around to see how the house fitted into its neighbourhood, coming away satisfied with both property and vicinity.

“What do you think?” they asked one another at the same time, laughing before Ray slapped Ben on the thigh to indicate he should go first.

“I like all the obvious: the layout, the space, the provisions for accessibility, which won’t be intrusive when they’re no longer needed – when I hope they’re no longer needed. The location offers privacy without being remote, and we’re not too far from the station house or Consulate. I imagine you’ll have more in mind when it comes to structural surveys and the like, but… I think we could be very happy there.”

“All of that,” Ray agreed, “but you know what struck me? Some places just feel like houses. This place feels like a home. And that’s despite Mrs Schmidt just about putting a curse on the property.”

“Despite what she was saying, I did notice the photographs of her late father and husband were carefully tended: frames and glass more fastidiously cleaned and polished than the surrounding pictures, and there were candles and fresh flowers beside them.”

“Ah. I know the type. Grouch with a heart of gold.”

“Precisely what you’d have turned into without me,” Ben teased, making Ray laugh and agree without hesitation.

“Okay, here’s the plan: we put in an offer and if it’s accepted we get surveys done. The place feels sound, there’s no obvious cracking or subsidence, but that slope at the front is pretty steep and we don’t want any surprises in the long run. Don’t want to go to sleep in the bedroom and wake up having slid all the way down into the pond.”

“I like the pond.”

“Me too, but I’d prefer to keep it on the outside of the house. And on that subject, we’ll definitely need a gardener, that’s a lot of space to take care of.”

“Agreed.”

“Would you be okay with that? Someone else wandering around the place?”

“I have to be. I think we’re approaching a time when you can stop humouring me, Ray. The therapy appears to be working, and I’m aware of being far more stable.”

“You know that without a survey?” Ray joked.

“Keep that up and I’ll hum.”

“I don’t mind the humming, it’s the buzzing that gets to me.”

“Session two,” Ben acknowledged, “that was…”

“Buzzy?”

“…a revelation. Thank you for pushing me into it.”

Serious now, Ray reached across to squeeze Ben’s hand for a moment.

“I’d do anything for you, even when you hate me for it.”

“Then please force me to use the patio. I’ll admit I did get palpitations when I was outside. I think it’s where the garden’s overgrown. I know I’m being ridiculous, the man is dead, not lurking in someone’s shrubs.”

“Time, Benny. You just need time.”

“Time,” Ben agreed, “and when you say it, it finally feels less of a threat, and more of a promise.”

…

In a break from the mix of discussions and arrangements for the house purchase, Ben’s continued intensive therapy, and whether they were keeping the Florida apartment now they’d found a property, which facilitated a further discussion regarding the long distance supervision of Ray’s furniture being transported from Florida to temporary storage in the vicinity of their potential home, Ray looked up from where he’d been studiously engrossed in a magazine for a couple of hours.

“Benny, what car do you want?”

Ben paused in his crutch practise.

“What car?” Ben frowned, as if he’d been offered a space ship.

“I’ve found a Riv, the house has a double garage, so…?”

“I don’t need a car.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Why?”

“Because you are never laying a hand on another Riv of mine, and if I go back to work I won’t always be around to give you a ride.”

“But if I go back to work, you’ll probably drop me off and pick me up.”

“Are we going to be joined at the hip?”

Ben considered.

“It worked in the past.”

Ray grinned at those memories before pulling himself up sharply and sticking to his point.

“You need independence.”

“It’s really not necessary, I’ll be walking soon. Our new house is five minutes from a bus stop with excellent transport links. Two cars are a pointless extravagance.”

“Hmm, all that lovely walking. Remind me again, how long did Doctor Elliott estimate before your muscles will be back to what they were before starvation, paralysis and general trauma?”

At that point Ben clearly felt a need to make a sharp turn and mumbled as he turned his back on Ray.

“Precisely,” Ray said firmly. “Whatever that was you said. You need a car, and my baby will be out of bounds, so…?”

Ben turned back and carefully lowered himself onto the armchair facing Ray.

“Please, can it wait?”

“One good reason.”

Ben sighed.

“Just when you already think I’m quite sufficiently mentally challenged.”

Ray chuckled.

“C’mon, Benny. Give it up.”

“Call it superstition, or not wanting to provoke the gods of doom…”

“Wait. You think that if you get a car…what?”

“I can barely figure it out for myself,” Ben protested, “how do I explain it to you?”

“No more wheels?” Ray suggested.

“Can we go with that?”

Ray regarded Ben’s face as his expression switched through frustration to embarrassment and along to grumpiness at his own illogical thoughts. He gave a sigh.

“I miss the days when I could jump on your lap and give you a hug to make you feel better.”

“You still can,” Ben insisted.

“It’s different,” Ray tried to explain, “because…there’s no excuse for it now? You’re on your feet and I can hug you then, but… Oh, damn it, I just want to cuddle.”

Ben was immediately prising himself out of the armchair.

“Where are you going?”

“To get the wheelchair, where else?”

…

In the midst of positivity all it took were five sympathetically spoken words to bring Ben crashing back down.

“The bodies have been released.”

The reaction was unexpected, as Ben had regularly enquired about starting preparations for John and Sara’s funeral, but Ray watched in horror as Ben’s progress wound back before his eyes. He couldn’t talk – no amount of humming or buzzing was going to ease this episode – and after collapsing in the living room, was unable to get back on his crutches or in his chair. Ray had to hoist him over his shoulder and put him to bed as he reverted to a corpse-like state, incapable by now of any form of communication.

They’d been warned that this could happen with the right trigger. Tonic immobility was one of the first conditions Ray had been told about, it was spelt out in the first information sheet Ray had read, but when it happened nothing could prepare him for the abrupt withdrawal of everything that was Benny.

Ben’s medication was all by mouth, so that was another impossible objective, until Ray stopped panicking and started thinking, phoning the IRF and asking if he could crush tablets or empty the capsules into water to see if he could persuade some into Ben’s system as a fluid. After hanging on the line for a while he got to talk to Doctor Elliott, and she was immediately accepting of what had occurred.

“You can crush and dilute a half dose of the tablets and attempt to syringe or spoon some into Mr Fraser’s mouth, but you are not, under any circumstances, to do this with the capsules, understand? Not the capsules.”

“Can I give him a lower dose more often?”

“Not without supervision, stick to the usual interval. I know it must feel terrible at the moment, but you mustn’t take any any risks with Mr Fraser’s medication.”

Ray’s brain was already hurtling ahead of her instructions.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Textbook setback, I’m afraid,” Doctor Elliott said calmly. “If nothing improves by this time tomorrow, call again.”

“Is it that usual?”

“Sadly, yes. Just carry on talking to him as if were present, he’s in there, he’ll hear.”

Ray hung up and went to work on the tablets, wishing he had a syringe, but ready to try a spoon to get some of the liquid into Ben. When Ray returned to the bedroom Diefenbaker was on the bed, draped over Ben like an overprotective fur rug.

“Okay,” Ray instructed, “you do the comfort, I’ll do…the impossible.”

Ray wasn’t wrong: Ben’s jaw and face were so tense it was all he could do to get the merest drips past Ben’s lips, and he doubted very much that that dribble would hit the mark. He kept the drugs on hand but settled alongside Diefenbaker to keep an eye on his patient, ready to spring into action if anything unclenched. And now he had to talk. He didn’t feel like talking, he felt like throwing the tantrum of all tantrums, happy to sound like a three year old if he got any of the ‘it isn’t fair!’ out of his system. Because it wasn’t fair. He was so viciously glad that Trantor was dead he almost shocked himself. Almost. But on with the job in hand, concentrating on who really mattered.

“Okay, Benny, stop me if you’ve heard this one…”

Starting from the first case they’d worked on together, Ray set about rounding up their entire partnership. There was so much history, but there would never be enough. All Ray wanted was for Ben to recover and for their lives to go forward instead of backwards. He felt like he talked for an age before even getting anywhere near the wolf licence. It was going to be a long day. A long night. Just a long, long wait.

…

At three-something in the morning Ray had finally managed to manoeuvre Ben into bed and, although he couldn’t remember doing it, had thrown a blanket over the three of them, finally stopping his yapping and letting himself pass out, sick of his own voice recounting tales that once made him laugh but now just reminded him of what he’d stupidly walked away from.

Then he’d dreamt about it all, and kept waking himself up to get away from the warped version that his troubled brain supplied. Finally giving up on sleep he sat up with a groan and rubbed his hands over his face and head, leaving his fingers pressed over his grainy eyes.

He felt Diefenbaker shift and, before he could be stopped, the wolf was up and away, wearing the blanket like a dollar store Jedi Knight.

Ray sighed and considered following, but he didn’t want to move. He had to arrange the Florida furniture into storage in a couple of hours and currently had just about enough energy to turn on the coffee maker, provided he didn’t waste any on showers or teeth brushing.

As he sat dwelling on the day ahead, Ben’s hand landed on his back and stroked. Ray gave what an only be described as a whimper, letting himself fall back into Ben’s touch and be eased over and wrapped in an embrace.

“Bad night?” Ben asked sympathetically.

Ray almost laughed.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Ben shrugged beneath Ray’s head.

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me I’ve forgotten something.”

Dragging up a little energy, Ray leaned up and studied Ben’s face. He looked well, completely relaxed, almost like a man who’d been unconscious for half a day and a night and made the most of the rest.

“If I say it again, the same thing might happen.”

“What did you say?” Ben asked, clearly surprised.

“You’ve been out cold since yesterday, you think I’m going to repeat what I said to make that happen?”

“Oh. When you say out cold…?”

“Just that. Out cold. TI corpse mode.”

“TI?”

“Tonic immobility. Am I the only one who read the damn paperwork?”

Ben gave an unabashed nod at that and held Ray a little closer for a moment, pressing a kiss to his head before making a move to sit up.

“I’d better help,” Ray sighed.

“I’m fine. Or I would be… Where are my crutches?”

“Still where you dropped them when you collapsed.”

“Which was?”

“Living room.”

“Wait. I collapsed?”

“Yep.”

“Well that was overly dramatic; you should have left me there.”

Ben shocked Ray by lurching to his feet and over to the first piece of furniture that would give him some support.

“Wait!”

Ray was out of bed and rushing to Ben’s side as he made a second lunge and got as far as the door, clinging to the frame without a shred of worry. When Ray got to him and pulled Ben’s arm around his shoulders, threading his own around Ben’s waist, Ben simply smiled and gestured toward the living room. When Ray tipped Ben onto the sofa Ben pulled him down with him, bringing him close and kissing him soundly. Reluctantly easing himself away, Ray took another look to see if there were any signs that Ben had lost his memory again because he’d behaved pretty weirdly then, but no.

“How are you feeling?” Ray asked tentatively.

Ben thought and once again smiled at Ray, as untroubled as he’d seen him since they’d reconnected.

“Like the thaw came in.”

Those words, the imagery behind them, unexpectedly touched Ray’s heart, and a strange weakness swept over him, as if his whole body was recognising a change they desperately needed, and that their immediate struggle was nearing its end.

“Benny, you’re really okay?”

“And you’re not. What day is it? I can’t remember what we’re supposed to be doing, but can I do something to help?”

“I have to sort my furniture into the storage facility, and you…we… Sorry, we have to start arranging the funeral.”

Ray held his breath as he waited for a reaction, but Ben nodded slowly.

“That’s such a relief. The thought of John and Sara, where they currently are, has tormented me. They need to go back to their people, and to peace.”

Ray took Ben’s hand.

“If I can help…”

“Thank you kindly,” Ben said, sounding just like a Mountie Ray used to know, but that Mountie wouldn’t have taken Ray’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, and he certainly wouldn’t have pulled Ray in for another, tender kiss to the lips. “Now, would you mind…?” Ben gestured to his crutches and thanked Ray again as they were delivered to him, needing no help to get to his feet, and swiftly moving toward the wet room.

Ray watched him go, hearing the humming, and taking a moment to realise that it was not coming from Ben.

…

Two days later, and the news came that their offer on the house had been accepted. Ray was on the phone arranging for the surveys he wanted when Ben made his way over and stood directly in front of him, silently demanding attention. Ray tried to ignore him so he could finish his calls but it proved impossible.

“God, you’re annoyingly handsome, how am I supposed to get anything done when you go around looking like that?”

Ben gave a fleeting smile but immediately switched to what he was determined to say.

“Ray, I want you to look at my back.”

Ray jumped to attention, primed to panic.

“Is there a problem? Does it hurt?”

“No, and no. At least, it’s no problem for me.” Ray threw Ben a curious look. “You have the problem with my back. You’ve never even seen where the bullet came out, you never touch my lower back, even clothed, and I think it’s unhealthy. It allows you to imagine… Actually, I’m not quite sure what you imagine, but it’s not a tidy pink line and two neat little rows of marks where the stitches came out. I want you to see me healed.”

“But you’re not.”

“The bullet saved my life, not just once but twice. It’s not responsible for my mental state, but even that’s improving exponentially, day by day. I’m whole, Ray. And you need to see my back.”

Leaning on a single crutch, Ben made his way into the bedroom, and Ray felt he had no choice but to follow. Ben was right though, what Ray imagined when he thought about the damage he’d done to Ben was huge in his mind, so blown out of proportion that, if he was in any way correct, Ben should be in pieces, let alone on crutches.

Ray watched as Ben sat on the bed to strip off his t-shirt and sweater before pushing his sweatpants lower on his hips, then taking his time to turn himself around and lay on the bed, face down. Chin on his folded arms, he looked to where Ray was barely inside the room.

“Come on.”

Mindful of the furious pounding of his heart, Ray cautiously approached and, at Ben’s request, sat beside him on the edge of the bed, still not able to focus on the scar.

“Ray… Please look.”

Ray took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and being aware of Ben’s concern at his somewhat absurd reticence. Bracing himself, Ray looked, a passing glance at first, but then, having been completely un-shocked by the area in question, he examined the bullet site carefully. It was exactly as Ben had described, a dark pink line with the slightest pucker at one end, accompanied by two rows of fading stitch marks. Otherwise, smooth and fairly flawless. Ray raised a hand but snatched it back.

“Can I…?”

“You can touch. It’s still a little numb, but I will feel it.”

Ray ran his fingers over the scar, once and again. Within the big picture it was insignificant. Tears filled his eyes and he furiously blinked them away.

“It’s nothing much, is it?” Ben asked. “You didn’t ruin me for life.”

“I thought, y’know, where the bullet had gone in…”

“That was all tidied up at the time, and further refined after the recent surgery.”

“I suppose I’ve seen so many ugly shootings, I imagined the worst.”

Ray shifted along the bed a little, leaning down so he could kiss the scar several times before letting his head rest against Ben’s back.

“Now can you forgive yourself? Because even if my back did look like a crime scene I guarantee I would forgive you.”

“I have a problem with you being perfect in my eyes. Not you being perfect, but me messing up the perfection.”

Ben chuckled.

“You mean you haven’t noticed all the other scars? Really, Detective, you should be embarrassed.”

With a sigh, Ray turned his head and laid his face against Ben’s back, settling there and gently stroking his hands over Ben’s skin.

“Now that’s problematic,” Ben pointed out.

“What?”

“That feels very…stimulating. And, as I have pointed out on many occasions, I’m not actually dead from the waist down.”

“Oh,” said Ray casually, until what Ben was implying sank in. “Oh!” Ray sat up at once. “Sorry. Although…not sorry?”

“Well, that’s progress.”

“But you stopped me.”

“Given your apprehension about the physical side of our relationship…”

“Did you want me to stop?”

“No, I was enjoying it. Were you?”

“Well, I… Y’know, I… Yes,” Ray finally admitted, almost breathlessly, and definitely surprising himself with how much he wanted to continue. He very deliberately laid down again, nuzzling the smooth skin as he lightly traced his fingertips over Ben’s back and sides.

As Ray’s touch skimmed a particularly sensitive area, he heard Ben catch his breath, and that was surprisingly erotic, just that quick gasp. It had taken time to get there, and Ray wanted to make Ben gasp a whole lot more, but… Ray was exasperating himself: why was there a but?

“I know bodies are just bodies, but it’s weird how awkward I feel,” Ray confessed.

“If I was physically fit and gave you a free rein, what would you do?”

“That’s just it, I don’t know what to do. I know I want to do whatever it is I don’t know what to do, but I don’t even know where to start.”

“I think you’ll find you’ve already started.”

“Shall I go and make my calls and we can try this another time?”

“No,” Ben said simply, beginning to turn over and struggling halfway through.

Ray immediately leapt up to help, easing Ben over onto his back and not noticing until he was caught that he’d been successfully manipulated to exactly where Ben wanted him: close enough to hold onto and draw in. Ben pulled Ray closer still so there was no choice but to climb onto the bed, tight alongside him.

“This is nice,” Ben understated, and he reached over to pull Ray’s face close enough to kiss, but it was his neck he was really aiming for, clearly recalling all the times that Ray had melted or squirmed when when Ben kissed or nuzzled his neck. And this time he didn’t have to stop, there was no leaping up or running away, just a muted groan of pleasure as Ben kissed and sucked.

Ray shifted, halfway onto Ben’s body now to give him better access, and barely noticing how hard he’d got until his erection was pressed against Ben’s hip.

“You mind that?” Ray murmured.

Ben shook his head and found Ray’s hand, sliding it down his body until it was pressed over the front of his sweatpants, and the equally aroused cock beneath.

“Oh, for—” Ray said on a shuddering breath, and suddenly it was all easy, this was the love of his life, and it was as natural as anything could be.

Ray caught Ben’s mouth and kissed him, no longer polite or tentative or begging permission, but increasingly passionate, tasting and teasing, almost in rhythm with his hand as it stroked and rubbed.

Minutes in, Ben snatched at Ray’s hand as he broke away from his kisses.

“Too much?” Ray asked.

“Can we please take our clothes off?”

Ray took a deep breath, attempting to calm down a little, kneeling up and easing his fingers into the waistband of Ben’s sweatpants. With a look he checked this was what Ben wanted and, receiving a definite nod, started to ease his pants down. Ben lifted his hips to allow the material to pass, and Ray felt a twinge of lust ripple over his entire body as Ben’s erection came into view. The knowledge that he’d caused that effect, that Benny was hard for him, wanted him, was extraordinary. He lightly dragged his fingertips over the silky skin, moaning quietly to himself as his touch was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.

“Does that feel okay?” he asked.

“I was about to ask you the same question,” Ben replied as he pushed himself onto his elbows in a bid to watch and gauge Ray’s feelings.

Appreciating that Ben was so conscious of how he would be reacting after all his worries, he wished he had the right words to reassure him, but his vocabulary was apparently closed for business, and all he could concentrate on in this moment was the confirmation of Ben’s desire for him.

Ray wound his hand around Ben’s cock and gently stroked, feeling himself respond in kind as the firm flesh twitched against his palm in response to the stimulation.

“Ray. Clothes?” Ben reminded him.

With a murmur of frustration, Ray sat up and carefully completed the removal of Ben’s pants, before tearing off his own clothes, fighting the almost primal need he now felt to be close to Ben, intimately close after all the doubts. He took a few calming breaths and returned to the bed, forcing himself to be gentle as he lowered himself to Ben’s side, but Ben had other ideas, pulling Ray more on than off of his body even as Ray protested.

“Careful, careful.”

“Ray, trust me. You won’t break me.”

“But your back…”

“Is better. So can we just…”

More kisses and, at Ben’s insistence, a further wriggle closer; their erections brushed and both men reacted like a charge of electricity had gone through them. Now it took little encouragement from Ben for Ray to move the last scrap closer so the brush became something more substantial, a slow intense grind that left them breathless and more than a little over-stimulated.

“A moment,” Ben suggested.

Rau stopped moving and gazed into Ben’s lust-darkened eyes; just that look was almost enough to tip Ray over the edge.

“You are so— How could I have ever doubted this could happen?”

“You had genuine reservations,” Ben countered, “that you needed to work through.”

“Forget all that, you’re just irresistible.”

Ben gave him the kind of provocative smile that Ray wouldn’t have believed him capable of.

“Prove it.”

Ray dove in for more kisses, his hand trailing over Ben’s body before bringing their cocks together, his hand wrapping around them both as Ben’s hand wrapped around his.

“Is this okay?” Ray asked, starting to stroke.

“Move,” Ben whispered. “You’ll have to, I can’t.”

Ray didn’t need any further encouragement, but a familiar twitch from Ben’s right leg was timely reminder to take care. The gentle stimulation as he rocked his hips led to equally gently kisses, but as their desire mounted, Ben’s murmured encouragement hit home, and Ray’s movements rapidly grew in speed, hands wet with their excitement, and the kisses became torrid, up until the moment Ben’s mouth broke away and found the sweet spot on Ray’s neck. As he ran his teeth over the tender skin, Ray bucked and thrust, bringing them both to a powerful climax as they clung to one another.

It took a few moments, accompanied by languid kisses, to recover.

“Benny, I…” Ray sighed as he consciously moved his body weight off Ben.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Ben insisted, doing his best to pull Ray back.

Ray settled down and closed his eyes, mentally reliving their encounter and once again wondering what he’d been worried about. Scared of. As so often happened, it was as if Ben could read his mind.

“Was that it, do you think? The scar. What was stopping you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“The fear of what you’d find if we made love?”

“Or maybe I’m just an idiot.”

“No, we’d have noticed before now,” Ben assured him, and Ray smiled and trusted he was right.

“I think… I think I was scared that this wouldn’t work. That, despite it being you, I couldn’t have sex with a man.”

“The heart may want what the heart wants, but the mind and body are somewhat more hard coded?”

“And then, whatever you’ve said, how could I make you be with someone who was never going to let you feel good like that?”

“You wouldn’t be making me. Only I know how my life has been without you, and only I know that celibacy would have been no great sacrifice if it meant being with you.”

“Me too, so I don’t know why I’m doubting you.”

“We could have remained just friends, it was me pushing you to reveal your feelings, remember.”

“You suspected then?”

“Hoped and… Also suspected.”

“What gave it away?”

“Your eyes. Sometimes when you look at me I see a reflection of my own feelings.”

“And I thought I was hiding everything so well.”

“Well, I for one am glad you didn’t.”

Ray pulled Ben into more kisses, luxuriating in how easy this was. How right.

“You think you’ll be able to open up more now?” he finally thought to ask Ben. “You still never say much about any of this.”

“Unfortunately for you, my level of happiness appears to be beyond words. But there is one thing I do need you to know: I will be eternally grateful for having been shown that love doesn’t have to be painful.”

Ray brought Ben into a hard hug, not for the first time wishing that Armando had a location for Victoria.

“That’s all gone,” Ray promised. “We’ll get our happy ever after.”

Ben chuckled at that and gave Ray a quick kiss before attempting to ease them apart.

“Now… I hate to disrupt your highly appealing foreshadowing, but I’m thinking…shower.”

Ray reluctantly peeled himself away from Ben, literally in some cases as bodily fluids were drying and sticking, and helped him up. A few more irresistible kisses later and, naked bar his left crutch, Ben headed for the wet room.

“You’re welcome to join me,” he called back.

The silliest grin crossed Ray’s face.

“Oh, yeah. He wants me.”

Finally, finally, no hesitation as he followed at speed.

…

Although Ray knew that Ben would want – no, need – to go to John and Sara’s funeral he was very much on edge about it. The prospect of the long journey was enough, but Ben refusing to be practical about the vagaries of his disability was worrying, and his insistence on leaving the chair at home seemed self-defeating at best and downright stupid at worst. Still, no argument would sway him, and flights were booked.

The casket containing John and Sara’s remains would arrive at John’s village before them, and the ceremonies to send their spirits on would be carried out before Ray and Ben arrived for the burial. Ray knew Ben would have preferred to be there for more of the proceedings, but he’d been able in this, at least, to persuade him to show some sense.

In some ways it was good to see Ben’s conviction in his invulnerability returning, but in others it made having a conversation about sensible precautions exhausting.

So, to the airport. There was a moment when it looked like Ben would fall prey to a panic attack before he got anywhere near the plane, and despite his bitter reluctance he agreed to a wheelchair through the airport, but once on the plane and taking deep, recuperative breaths, they realised they’d achieved what, for a good while, seemed to be impossible.

The journey took, according to Ray’s rough calculations, forever. The welcome Ben received at the village somehow made it all worthwhile, and the appreciation of John’s friends soothed their frayed nerves and successfully obliterated early worries of the return trip home.

Finally, Ben’s responsibility was lifted, John and Sara laid to rest in a peaceful setting that felt a million miles away from their horrific fate. It was time for healing, true healing. As they paid their final respects at the graveside, Ben wiped his eyes for the last time, and seemed to stand taller.

“I think this is it, Ray. What I needed. I finally think it’s over, and I can move on. We can move on.”

Ray offered Ben his arm, and Ben accepted, relying on Ray for his stability as much as the one crutch that aided his left leg. They slowly meandered back to the car that would be the start of their long journey home, and as he walked, Ben’s steps became surer, his gait relaxed and confident. Taking Ray by surprise he suddenly stopped and offered the crutch to Ray to carry.

“Would you mind?”

Ray would very much not mind, and with Ben on one arm and the crutch resting on the opposite shoulder, they walked on.

“I am so proud of you,” Ray said quietly, and Ben tightened his grip. Ray waggled the elbow Ben was clinging to. “Still need this?”

“Like nothing else.”

Ben was very quiet on the first part of their journey but his silence had stopped being the stressed variety that signified a man barely coping, and now felt more about Ben finding himself again after everything he’d been through.

“How about,” Ray started, thinking as he spoke. “We go home the long way round?”

“The long way round?” Ben repeated sceptically. “The journey wasn’t long enough for you already?”

“Remember waking me up one morning and telling me you wanted to come back to Canada and be reminded of all the good things, rather than having the horrible association of…well, I don’t need to say it, do I? Let’s take our time going home, travel around, see a few sights. Show me what you love about the place. Just don’t make it all snowdrifts.”

“You’re happy to do that?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise and, look at you. The Mountie’s on his way back, let’s give him some wiggle room.”

Ben took a while to think the suggestion over.

“So?” Ray asked.

“It would make me incredibly happy.”

“Done deal then. Navigation’s over to you, Benny, just point me in a direction.”

Taking up an road map from the back seat of their car, Ben settled down to do as asked, as happy as Ray had seen him in years. It was almost enough to make Ray believe that Ben had been correct, and that the worst was over. Maybe not a miracle cure but a considered progression that would allow them to move on.

…

Ray sat on their bed, staring at the Mountie uniform hanging behind the door. He’d collected it after Ben had been in touch with the Consulate about the possibility of returning to work. They both knew it would mean a desk job, and they also both knew that was the last thing Ben wanted to commit himself to, fearing that something that began as a stopgap during his ongoing recovery would end up as his actual role at the Consulate.

However much enthusiasm he’d been greeted with, Ray could read Ben on this particular subject. He’d rather have been told to go away and come back when he could pass a full physical. Maybe that challenge wasn’t in the immediate future but it wasn’t far away, and Ray was still trying to think of a way to persuade Ben to give it a little more time before returning to work. He knew Ben’s pride played a big part here, and Ray couldn’t be doing with that. It was one of the few things that he was able to belligerently dismiss Ben’s concerns over.

Not sure that finishing this round of therapy was enough of an excuse to keep Ben off work, Ray found himself considering what exactly would be enough, and he was stumped. Surely the argument that there were still nights full of bad dreams that left Ben wrung out for the next day was enough? Those nights were becoming increasing less common, but they were unpredictable and still completely unnerving.

But the more Ray considered the possibility of Ben not returning to work while he himself returned to the 27^th, the more it felt like a worse idea. Lieutenant Welsh had accepted his transfer with a warm enough welcome, unsurprisingly as Ray had unequivocally earned his spurs and they both knew it, but did he want to be out on a job while Benny was alone at home, regardless of how comfortable and supportive a home it was? After all he’d been through, surely too much time alone in an unfamiliar property wasn’t going to help Ben’s state of mind. There were doors, Ray reminded himself with a worried frown, plenty of doors that he knew had nothing behind them, but did Ben?

Ray diverted his thoughts as Ben came into the bedroom to join him, walking with a stick now although he’d barely made use of it since the last EMDR session with Doctor Maitland. Tossing the stick aside as he sat alongside Ray, Ben tilted far enough to tap Ray with the brim of the Stetson, which he’d taken to wearing around the bungalow for Ray’s amusement. It had been quite a moment when Ray saw Ben in the full uniform and, as Ben had very nearly replaced the weight he’d lost, the fit was good enough. He looked gorgeous, utterly, utterly, gorgeous, the whole ensemble somehow promising a Ben who was healed and healthy, and Ray lost his heart all over again.

The Mountie and the cop, back where they’d started, and it wasn’t a bad thought in any way. Just, perhaps, a premature one.

“Will having a house with a wheelchair lift remind you too much of what you’ve been through?” Ray asked.

“No, I find it reassuring. It may even come in useful.”

“We talking hide go seek, or shifting gym equipment?”

“A reminder of what brought us together.”

“There are better memories,” Ray insisted.

“But few as poignant.”

Ben knocked his hat off as he leant in to give Ray an extended kiss, making the most of their brief hiatus.

“Back to packing,” he announced as he frustrated Ray’s attempts at progressing the kisses to something more intimate, and Ray was becoming very suspicious that his butter-wouldn’t-melt Mountie enjoyed teasing Ray to the point of pouncing. “Two days and we’ll be home for good. And then there’ll be time for…”

“Unpacking,” Ray interrupted. “It never ends. Boxes, boxes, boxes.”

Ben gave a tantalising come-hither smile but still managed to avoid Ray, retrieving his stick and heading back to the kitchen to carry on filling his own boxes, boxes, boxes. Ray watched him go, grinning to himself and shaking his head at Benny’s methods. It was very lucky that a lifetime of inhibitions was gradually melting away, because one thing Ray had noticed about Benny was that as much as he enjoyed starting things, there was nothing he loved better than leaving it to Ray to finish them.

Bedroom and wet room contents as packed as practicably possible, Ray joined Ben in the kitchen, amused to see Diefenbaker in his supervisory capacity sitting in the manual wheelchair, the electric having been returned earlier that day. Ben was just making a start on the odds and ends drawer, and Ray would have been lying if he denied tensing a little as the Nokia emerged, but Ben just placed it into the nearest box and resumed his rummaging. Of course it then occurred to Ray that Ben might have asked to use that phone rather than the one he’d had bought for him, purely for its simplicity, and ended up starting a mob war with those codes while learning how to send a text. Ray stifled the grin and made himself think far purer thoughts.

Ben hesitated for a second before bringing out the bag with the bullet, but when it emerged it completely wiped the smile off of Ray’s face. After studying the bullet for several seconds Ben turned to Ray, and couldn’t fail to see the sadness on Ray’s face when confronted with that awful item. He offered the bag up.

“What?” Ray asked awkwardly, “what do you want me to do with it?”

“What you’ve undoubtedly always wanted to do,” Ben replied with a sympathetic smile.

The trash can was in the corner of the kitchen; Ben went to it and held open the lid, once again offering the bullet to Ray.

“Fresh start,” Ben said.

Ray’s expression morphed from disbelief via hopeful to full on gratitude.

“Fresh start,” he quietly echoed.

Relieved and more than happy to take Ben’s offer, Ray accepted the bullet and, after a last, venomous look at the offending item, consigned it to the trash. Ben let the lid drop with a satisfying thunk.

“Thank you, Benny. I know you wanted to keep it…”

“Ray…” Ben brought Ray close and gave him a heartfelt hug. “I have what I really want to keep.”

Ray took that encouragement and pursued Ben, only to find himself embracing yet another cardboard box.

“Pack,” Ben told him.

“No,” Ray replied as briefly, tossing the box aside and pinning Ben against the nearest cabinet. “I know what I want too, and it has nothing to do with a damn box!”

Ben managed to wriggle away but only seconds later deliberately let Ray catch up with him, Ray lifting him to sit on a worktop while he snuggled in for a kiss and cuddle. Forget work, after waiting for so long Ray simply wasn’t ready to give up on moments like this, twenty-four-seven.

“I have a proposal for us,” he told Ben as his jumbled thoughts finally fell into place.

“Go on.”

“We postpone any idea of going back to work for, I don’t know, six months? We take our time over the house, no pressure to be anywhere else, until… Let’s take a vacation. You, me and Dief, somewhere new that’s just for us. I know you’re going to say…”

“Yes.”

“…that we need to get back to— Wait, what?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not going to put up a fight?”

“For a desk job where the most crucial moment of the day will be managing the coffee order?”

“That’s debateable, and harsh, and I love your attitude.”

“Can we hire an RV and simply roam?”

“That’d be fun, and we did talk about a road trip, so yes. I’ll drive.”

“Very wise.” Ben studied Ray fondly. “You know, despite everything, I am a very lucky man. You came back when I needed you, you stayed despite the inhospitable welcome you received…”

“You’re the love of my life, what else was I supposed to do? Besides…”

“Miriam,” they said as one.

With a laugh they split up and got back to packing, making light work of it now with lifted moods, and falling over one another’s words as they planned their future.

The Lesser Distance Index       Notes

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