Fic - Due South - "Through the Looking Glass" (2/4) - RayK/Fraser, RayK/human!Dief [mature]
Title: Through the Looking Glass
Author: tres_mechante
Fandom: Due South
Pairing/character: Ray Kowalski/Benton Fraser, Ray Kowalski/human!Diefenbaker
Rating: FRM (Mature)
Word Count: 30,850 approx.
Kink: magic/supernatural elements; first time; angst; flirtation; seduction; mind fuck
Notes/Warnings: magic; language; angst; character death(temporary!); animal-to-human transformation; vampire; male/male sex (not graphic); first times; violence; developing feelings; disturbing images (nightmares); crackishness
Thank you to the ficfinishing gang, who cheered me on to greater word counts.
Many thanks to cincoflex and vr_trakowski who encouraged me every step of the way.
Very special thanks to mizface, my First Reader, who read the story as it was being written (warts and all), offered thoughts, asked questions, gently pointed out the inconsistancies/errors, and encouraged me to keep going simply by asking “More please?”
Summary: Ray’s life has taken a turn for the strange, what with a gruesome murder, creepy witnesses, the woodland version of Hotel California, and a squirrel with attitude. But then along comes some guy claiming to be Diefenbaker and that's when things get weird.
Artist:sly_fuck Thank you for the art!
~~~~~~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
Part 1
Part Two
Ray drowsily stretched and plumped the pillow behind his head. Damn, he felt good. A soft growl beside him betrayed Dief’s displeasure at being disturbed, so Ray gently rubbed under Dief’s chin in apology. “Sorry buddy.”
Ray turned to check on his other bedmate, hoping Ben was still sleeping; he loved to watch his lover sleep.
Unfocused blue eyes met his in the pre-dawn gloom.
“Didn’t mean to wake you, Ben,” said Ray softly. When there was no response, he frowned and nudged the other man. “Hey, are you sleeping with your eyes open again?”
Ray watched in horror when Fraser’s mouth fell open and a large black spider crawled out.
“Jeez!” He scrambled backwards, tangling in the blanket as he fell off the bed. That was when he noticed the two buzzards nibbling on in insides of Fraser’s belly.
“Nooo!” he wailed. “Not real, not real, nononono...”
The room sudden lit up and Ray looked around fearfully, relieved to no longer be in darkness. The bed was empty - “Oh, thank god” - and there was no sign of buzzards or spiders. He was alone.
It was a nightmare; just another fucking nightmare.
Ray clumsily untangled himself from the blanket and hurried outside. He pumped the water pump’s handle up and down a few times until water filled the waiting bucket, and then plunged his head into the cold water.
Ray suddenly straightened and shook his head, sending water drops everywhere. He vigorously scrubbed his hands over his bearded face and through his hair, as though he could scrub the nightmare from his brain.
Dawn wasn’t too far away, and he really didn’t want to go back inside yet, so Ray just got a fire going in the pit. He grabbed a blanket that was airing nearby, wrapping it around himself to ward off the pre-dawn chill.
It had been almost week since the last time he’d had that particular nightmare, and he’d thought he was finally...adjusting. Pfft. Adjusting - gone insane more like. Ray didn’t need to look at the notches carved into the cabin wall to know he’d been there 72 days, this being day 73. No one to talk to except for that freakishly large kamikaze squirrel that kept him company off and on.
And he still didn’t know where he was or how he’d even got here.
Ray slipped off the log he’d been sitting on and sat on the ground with the log as a backrest. As was the case after every nightmare, Ray couldn’t help but remember those last moments before everything went to hell.
Looking back, Ray was kind of surprised at the way everything happened in slow motion, like one of those movie effects, except this was real life.
~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~
[flashback]
The three of them were ushered into an old-fashioned parlour where they kept fending off persistent offers of tea and dainties. The sisters - twins - were twitchy and creepy as all get out in their matching long black skirts and jackets and prim white blouses, white hair pulled back in matching tight buns. Even Fraser looked a bit unsettled.
Diefenbaker suddenly came to attention, hackles raised. He stared intently at a large painting on the far wall, growling and baring his teeth. Fraser and Ray turned to see what had alarmed the wolf, but a sudden yelp had them looking back in time to see Dief stagger and fall.
“What the hell did you do?” yelled Ray, although the answer is pretty obvious. Agatha (or maybe it was Emily) held a baseball bat.
Little old ladies or not, Ray pulled his gun while Fraser rushed to his fallen friend, oblivious to everything except Dief’s ominously still form.
And just like that everything seemed to slow down, even though it all happened too fast. Ray yelled for the crazy broads to drop everything, so focused on them that he barely caught movement from the corner of his eye. Ray called out a warning, training his gun on the new threat.
Fraser never saw what hit him; Ray fired as the axe connected with the back of Fraser’s head, dropping him like a stone.
“Ben!”
Ray had barely taken a step towards him when something hit him from behind. Stumbling, Ray turned as he fell and saw Emily (or maybe Agatha) holding a baseball bat. He brought his gun back up and fired, but instead of hitting anyone it shattered a jar on the table, sending a plume of white dust into the air. The dust burned his eyes and throat, choking the breath from his body.
The last thing he remembered before darkness swallowed him was the sight of Diefenbaker’s still body and Fraser’s empty blue eyes.
[end flashback]
~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~
The sun was peeking over the treetops, a reminder that Ray had to get moving. Experience had taught him that if he waited too long the fish would stop biting, but he just couldn’t seem to care enough to move.
A shower of acorns fell on his head. Ray looked up to see a large squirrel staring down at him. “Hey, Rocky. How many times have I got to tell you I’m not interested in your nuts?”
The squirrel jeered at him and tossed down another nut.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a pain in the ass?” grumbled Ray, dragging himself to his feet. “You could be stew, you know.”
Rocky merely flicked his tail and took off, leaping from branch to branch.
Ray hoped Fraser would’ve been proud of how well Ray had adapted. Sometimes, Ray imagined Fraser was still alive, and they were actually in Canada somewhere sharing a little cabin in the wilderness.
Having prepared the fish for drying - “see, Frase, I was listening” - Ray went to collect his food basket.
When he’d first woken up here, wherever the hell ‘here’ was, he tried to get back to civilization. No matter how long he walked, how far he traveled, or which path he took, he always ended up back at the little cabin. It didn’t help that he had Hotel California on endless repeat in his head.
Eventually, Ray settled in. He had no choice; it was adapt or starve.
Help came from an unexpected source - food baskets left in the woods. Aimlessly walking one day, he literally stumbled across a basket filled with bread, cheese, vegetables and strawberries. The resulting belly ache had been worth it.
The next basket had appeared in the same place two days later, and again two days after that. The next care package, this one wrapped in a blanket instead of being in a basket, arrived two days after the previous delivery.
Finally, something concrete he could focus on. Ray staked out the area, waiting to see who’d been bringing him food. It took almost two weeks before he saw the food appear - it was as if someone waited for him to fall asleep before making the drop.
A girl, probably no more than 15 or 16, approached in the company of an older woman. The girl stopped at the edge of the tree line, set the basket down and picked up a long stick. Ray watched as she used the stick to push the basket into the small clearing. When the girl turned to leave, Ray broke cover and ran toward her.
“Hey! Wait up!”
She walked on with her companion as though she hadn’t heard him. Ray set off after her and suddenly found himself running into the yard at his cabin.
“Son of a bitch!” Ray had barely restrained himself from punching the wall in frustration and headed back to claim his food.
At least once a week since then, he tried to communicate with whoever brought the care package. Sometimes it was a young woman, other times it was a young man, or an elderly person, sometimes it was a small silent group. Even when he stood in plain sight, it was as if he was invisible - no one paid him any mind.
Ray was pragmatic enough to make the best of his situation. He was alone (not counting the crazy squirrel), trapped in a woodland version of the Hotel California, and apparently invisible to the human eye. On the other hand, he was alive, had food and water (he’d kill for a beer and some pizza), and still had his sanity (well, maybe).
When the sun set he banked the fire and prepared for bed. Weirdly, he didn’t really miss late night television all that much. When his evening chores were done, Ray carved another notch into the wall and went to bed.
Day 76 brought a change in routine, and a new mystery to solve.
Ray’s sleep was fitful, but there were no nightmares. He kept thinking he heard someone moving around outside the cabin but whenever he got up to look, no one was there.
Waking reluctantly and wishing for coffee for the millionth time, Ray stumbled out of the cabin and headed for the makeshift toilet area. On his way back, he stopped and stared at the yard. The fire pit had been lit, and a spit was set up over the hot coals. On the spit was a...rabbit? It was kind of hard to tell without its skin or anything. A quick look around revealed Rocky looking on from his usual perch, so yeah, it was probably rabbit.
Whatever it was, though, smelled like heaven. He looked around but could find no evidence of his mystery cook’s identity. Hunger eventually drove Ray to sample the cooked meat. Although he missed meat in his diet, he never could bring himself to kill and skin Bambi’s little buddy. But since someone had done the deed for him, he wasn’t going to say no to the feast.
As much as Ray approved of his diet upgrade, it was driving him nuts that he didn’t know who was leaving him the meat. Ray was pretty sure that it wasn’t one of the folks leaving him the care packages; they never moved past the tree line. And since there didn’t seem to be a way for anyone to move in or out of his personal enchanted forest, Ray was forced to consider that someone else was secretly sharing his space. The idea was more than a little unsettling.
A couple of weeks later, Ray grinned when Rocky stopped by for his regular evening visit to give Ray a nut and keep him company. “So, give already. Who’s been leaving me the roasts?” Ray gave his best interrogation glare. “You’re always around and you see everything, so I know you know.”
Rocky just stared back at him.
“Oh, a tough guy huh? Well, do me a favour and watch yourself. I don’t ever want to come back and find your chestnuts roasting over an open fire.”
Rocky suddenly twitched and silently disappeared into the shadows. Ray felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.
He was being watched.
As casually as possible, Ray began tidying up. The fire was banked, fresh wood stacked nearby. Linens that had been hung to dry were gathered, folded and taken inside. The bucket was positioned at the water pump, ready for the morning. Finally, the latest notch was carved into the wall and he entered his cabin, closing and bolting the door behind him. Hiding in the darkened room, he watched outside, but no one came near. Ray fell asleep just before dawn, still sitting by the window.
Ray groaned and tried to stretch, which resulted in a pain in his neck and back. Shit. He’d fallen asleep in his chair.
“Ray, Ray, Ray.”
Ray smiled at the fond exasperation in Ben’s voice. “Mornin’” he mumbled, keeping his eyes closed.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” asked Ben. “Did you have another bad dream?”
Ray frowned slightly, trying to remember why he’d been in his chair. “Yeah, maybe. Don’ r’mber.”
The sounds of someone puttering in the kitchen were comforting. The sounds also promised coffee may soon be available. But just to be sure, he begged, “Coffee?”
Ben’s chuckle came from right behind him. “Sounds like someone needs the good stuff.”
“An’ a backrub.”
“And a backrub. Which would you like first?”
“Do I look like I’m in any condition to make decisions, here? Freak.”
Ben laughed. “Okay, perhaps a bit of both then.”
Ray moaned with pleasure when Fraser’s strong fingers rubbed his neck. “Oh yeah, babe, just like that.”
“That sounds rather sexual, Ray.”
“Gimme that cup and there could be an orgasm.”
A warm cup was dutifully placed in Ray’s outstretched hand. Straightening slightly, he leaned back into his lover’s massaging fingers and lifted the cup to his lips. He took a large mouthful - and promptly spat it out.
“The hell?” His eyes snapped open to see a splash of red all over the wall. He looked down into his cup. It looked like “Blood?”
“Well, of course it’s blood - I told you, nothing but the best for you.”
Ray swung around, but suddenly scrambled away in horror. That was not - could not be - his Ben.
“You look a little peaked, Ray,” said the thing with Ben’s voice. “Are you feeling unwell? Perhaps the restless night is catching up with you.”
“Get away from me!”
“Really, Ray, now you’re just being unreasonable. I added coffee to the blood, so you can’t complain about not getting your caffeine fix.” He gestured to the cup still clutched in Ray’s hand. “Drink up, Ray. You’ve been looking a little pale lately - you really do need the iron.”
Ray tossed the cup away.
The resulting expression of hurt and confusion looked wrong on the grotesque mask - pale waxen skin and flat lifeless eyes - that should have been his lover’s face. When the fake Ben reached for him again, Ray grabbed his overturned chair and tossed it at him, using the distraction to make a break for the door. In his haste to escape, Ray tripped over something on the floor and fell, striking his head against the door jamb. He barely realized he’d tripped over Dief, who was lying in a pool of blood, before everything around him flashed white.
Rapid flashes of lightening greeted his escape from the nightmare. Jeez. What brought that on? Making sure the cabin was well lit, he stumbled outside intent on dunking his head in ice water - again. Mercifully, dawn had arrived, even if the sky was overcast. Another flash of lightening arced across the sky, but no rain fell.
Rounding the corner of the cabin, Ray caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye and turned. He screamed - although he would deny it to his dying breath - when he was met by a pair of dark inhuman eyes.
He stumbled back, tripping over his own feet and landing hard on his ass. He found himself staring up at a rather startled looking Rocky, who was perched on top of a stack of logs. “Jeez! Don’t do that!” he told the squirrel.
Suddenly lacking the energy to even try to get up again, Ray simply flopped back on the ground - wincing when his head hit too hard - and yelled at the top of his lungs. “I AM GOING OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND!”
Rocky scrambled down from his perch and over to where Ray still sprawled. He carefully walked up Ray’s right leg, over his belly and sat on Ray’s chest. Very gently, Rocky placed a nut on Ray’s chest.
Ray couldn’t help but grin. “Thanks buddy. Uh, is this your way of telling me you think I’m nuts?”
Rocky chattered at him for a moment and then jumped to the ground and took off.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Ray called after the departing squirrel. He grabbed the nut off his chest and sat up, suddenly feeling better for some reason. Pushing the remnants of his nightmare away, Ray headed back to the cabin - after a quick detour to the ‘facilities’ of course.
It was with a lighter heart that Ray went to collect the latest care package. He no longer bothered hiding since no one seemed able to see him anyway. Ray settled on a tree stump to wait.
His eyes closed in pleasure as he soaked up the sun that had finally broken through the clouds. The evenings had been getting cooler, but the sun still felt hot. He figured he'd have to think about winter clothes soon, but had no idea how to address the problem. It wasn't like he could drop by the mall or anything.
Rocky came over and perched on a low branch, just sitting in companionable silence. It wasn't as if they had actual conversations, but the feisty squirrel helped him feel a little less lonely.
Ray leaned back against the tree trunk and drowsed in the dappled sunlight. His mind took him back to Chicago and he wondered, not for the first time, what had happened after That Day. He was pretty sure Ben had been taken back Canada, probably had a grand funeral - all honours since he'd died in the line of duty. Ray wondered about Dief; he hoped the wolf had only been knocked out and was recovered. On the other hand, what was a deaf wolf going to do in the city?
And what about him? Was he listed as missing or presumed dead? Actually, that would be Vecchio since Ray Kowalski didn't exist. Ray snorted in amusement. Vecchio was going to be pissed if he tried coming back to his old life since he would be the one officially either dead or missing.
His folks might wonder, but they might just assume he was off on another undercover gig; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d disappeared for awhile. His dad always said Ray would get himself killed, so maybe that’s what they thought. Ray sort of hoped Stella missed him. It wasn't that he wanted to cause her pain or anything, but it would be nice to think that someone missed him - him, Stanley Raymond Kowalski, not him the substitute Ray Vecchio.
Rocky's chatter brought him back to the present. Ray looked across the glade and noticed a small group. Today there was a teen boy, an old woman and a man who looked to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, approaching the tree line.
He got up and approached them. "Afternoon, folks. Nice day, isn't it?" Ray addressed the man. “I don’t think I've seen you before. Did you just move here?"
The basket was set down, and the old woman handed the young man a branch, gesturing between the basket and the clearing. The young man didn't seem to understand what she wanted.
Ray crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm guessing you're new here," he said to the man. "First day on the job, huh?"
The man's gaze shot to the clearing, almost meeting Ray's eyes.
"Hey! Can you hear me?"
The man, however, returned his attention to what the woman was saying. Nodding, he adjusted his grip on the branch and nudged the basket until it was fully in the clearing. The movements were slow and careful, which prompted Ray to try to grab the branch.
The moment Ray touched the branch he jumped back as a shock traveled up his arm. He noticed that the man seemed to have felt something as well. The old woman began fussing over him as the teenager pulled the branch away from him and tossed it aside.
They were all talking at the same time, but Ray couldn't make out what they were saying. He knew it wasn't English, but couldn't quite identify it. He thought for a moment that it might be Polish; the old woman sounded vaguely like his grandma Kowalski did when she was talking to someone from the Old Country. But he could be wrong since the voices were muted.
Ray looked over at Rocky, who was also watching the lively discussion. "You know, buddy, this would be a whole hell of a lot more interesting with subtitles."
Rocky chittered back, which Ray took as agreement even if the squirrel had no idea what he meant.
Eventually, the little group moved away from the clearing. The teenager and the old woman kept tugging the man behind.
"Bye, folks. Thanks for coming," said Ray as he waved to them.
The man stopped and looked back again, and Ray swore the guy looked right at him. Ray moved closer to the tree line and watched the guy resist a bit before allowing himself to be led away.
"Huh." Ray had that feeling in his gut, the one that said a very important bit of evidence had just been dropped in his lap - the kind of evidence needed to bust a case wide open. The question was what to do with it.
Ray gathered his package and headed home. He had to think about what had happened; there had to be a way to use the incident to his advantage.
Once the basket was unpacked, he broke it down and added it to the pile of kindling. He never could figure out how to return the baskets, and after they'd piled up for a while, he just started using them for kindling.
Basic chores out of the way, Ray got the fire going and put on the kettle. He shook his head in wonder at how the cabin had been stocked. There was a big pot, a kettle, spoons and knives, ceramic dishes and cups - pretty much everything he needed. He'd even found an axe propped by the door.
He eyed the woodpile and smiled. Fraser would definitely be proud. It'd take some doing, but he was an old pro at wood chopping now, even if he did say so himself.
Thinking of Fraser made him think of Dief, and the day seemed a little less bright, even though the sun was still shining.
Ray pulled out his favourite knife and a block of wood. He examined the wood for a few minutes and then began to whittle away. He remembered once reading that a famous sculptor - Michelangelo, maybe? - claimed that the figure was already in the marble and all he had to do was chip away until it showed up. Ray figured that was as good an approach as any to working with wood.
He first started doing this because he was bored out of his freaking mind, but now he liked it. It was calming, kind of like meditation but without the smelly candles and new age crap music.
The first few attempts had become food for the fire, but now he had a small collection of ducks, a few fish and a bunch of toothpicks. Ray was pretty sure he was working on a squirrel, but would wait before committing to that.
As the day wound down, he took a break for supper and then began the nightly chores to clean up the area. He really didn't want to find out if there were rats or roaches anywhere nearby.
Another notch on the wall, another day done; Ray wondered if there would come a time when he didn't feel compelled to keep track.
That night, he slept deeply and nightmare free. When he woke, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or depressed by the new development. On the one hand restful sleep was a good thing; on the other hand he was afraid it meant he was giving up.
Well, it had to happen. The storm that had been threatening off and on over the past few days finally broke, bringing with it an almost wintery chill. Ray shivered in the morning gloom and pulled a woollen blanket around his shoulders. He’d resisted starting a fire in the woodstove because he didn’t want to accidentally set the cabin on fire, but now he really needed to counter the damp chill.
He lit up the cabin and gathered up the kindling he'd brought inside just in case. He opened the damper and then reached into the stove to adjust the wood. When everything was to his satisfaction, he started the fire, and breathed a sigh of relief when it caught right away.
Ray knew it would take a while before the chill left the cabin, so he brought over a few blankets to warm near the stove. He rummaged through his supplies and found the fixings for a simple vegetable stew. It wouldn't be gourmet, but it would be edible.
While the pot simmered, Ray pulled his chair over to the window. God, he wished he had a book to read, maybe a little music in the background. Instead, he slouched comfortably and listened to the rain outside; it was different from rain in the city, but still hypnotic.
He was roused by a noise outside the cabin. Sitting up straight, he looked around in confusion. It sounded like someone had tried to open the door.
Ray wished he had his gun, but made do with a knife as he quietly approached the door. He pressed his ear to the wood but could not hear anything on the other side. Even the rain had stopped.
A faint squelching sound brought him to the little window across the room. He flattened himself against the wall and carefully peered outside.
Nothing. Well, almost nothing. A wrapped package sat under the shelter of a large tree. Ray watched for a while, but there was no movement in the yard. Eventually, curiosity won out and Ray went to investigate.
It turned out that the package was in fact a wooden box. It was about the size of a box suitable for a blender or a toaster, simple with a latch but no decorations. Ray poked it a bit before picking it up and shaking it. He heard nothing. Weighing his options briefly, Ray decided to open it there rather than take it inside.
He carefully flipped the latch, opened the lid and peeked inside. He quickly opened the lid all the way and reached in to pull out a pair of boots. They were crudely made of leather, but looked comfortable. He brought them inside so he could try them on.
A perfect fit.
Huh. So who brought him boots? Ray knew the folks who delivered the care packages never moved beyond the tree line - in fact he had a theory that they couldn't actually come any closer, much the same way he couldn't cross that invisible line.
He looked at the boots again. There was no way the leather came from anything in his little woodland home. The breath left his body in a rush and he felt quite light-headed. Somewhere, there was a way to move between the woods and whatever lay beyond the trees.
Before he could take that thought any further, a strong gust of wind rattled the window and the rain returned. He took that as a sign to slow down and really think about the situation - or he would if he actually believed in stuff like that.
Ray carefully set his boots by the bed and took the stew off the stove. For the first time in a long time, he was ravenous.
The next few days were spent going over the boundaries of his land; Ray refused to use the word prison, even if it did feel like one. As soon as the rain let up, Ray spent sun up to sun down walking the perimeter and examining every path with new eyes. If someone was getting in, there had to be a way for him to get out.
By the end of the fourth day, Ray was cussing up a storm. There had to be an easier way to do this. He’d reached a point where he’d have to go on an overnight trip to reach the furthest boundaries, and that meant packing supplies. Trudging back to the cabin, Ray considered the wisdom of spending the night outdoors given that someone - presumably the Invisible Man, since he’d never been seen - was lurking nearby.
Ray grumbled to himself that this would be so much easier if someone would just take him by the hand and -
“Hello, Ray.”
Part 3
Author: tres_mechante
Fandom: Due South
Pairing/character: Ray Kowalski/Benton Fraser, Ray Kowalski/human!Diefenbaker
Rating: FRM (Mature)
Word Count: 30,850 approx.
Kink: magic/supernatural elements; first time; angst; flirtation; seduction; mind fuck
Notes/Warnings: magic; language; angst; character death(temporary!); animal-to-human transformation; vampire; male/male sex (not graphic); first times; violence; developing feelings; disturbing images (nightmares); crackishness
Thank you to the ficfinishing gang, who cheered me on to greater word counts.
Many thanks to cincoflex and vr_trakowski who encouraged me every step of the way.
Very special thanks to mizface, my First Reader, who read the story as it was being written (warts and all), offered thoughts, asked questions, gently pointed out the inconsistancies/errors, and encouraged me to keep going simply by asking “More please?”
Summary: Ray’s life has taken a turn for the strange, what with a gruesome murder, creepy witnesses, the woodland version of Hotel California, and a squirrel with attitude. But then along comes some guy claiming to be Diefenbaker and that's when things get weird.
Artist:sly_fuck Thank you for the art!
~~~~~~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~ ~~~~~~~~~~
Part 1
Part Two
Ray drowsily stretched and plumped the pillow behind his head. Damn, he felt good. A soft growl beside him betrayed Dief’s displeasure at being disturbed, so Ray gently rubbed under Dief’s chin in apology. “Sorry buddy.”
Ray turned to check on his other bedmate, hoping Ben was still sleeping; he loved to watch his lover sleep.
Unfocused blue eyes met his in the pre-dawn gloom.
“Didn’t mean to wake you, Ben,” said Ray softly. When there was no response, he frowned and nudged the other man. “Hey, are you sleeping with your eyes open again?”
Ray watched in horror when Fraser’s mouth fell open and a large black spider crawled out.
“Jeez!” He scrambled backwards, tangling in the blanket as he fell off the bed. That was when he noticed the two buzzards nibbling on in insides of Fraser’s belly.
“Nooo!” he wailed. “Not real, not real, nononono...”
The room sudden lit up and Ray looked around fearfully, relieved to no longer be in darkness. The bed was empty - “Oh, thank god” - and there was no sign of buzzards or spiders. He was alone.
It was a nightmare; just another fucking nightmare.
Ray clumsily untangled himself from the blanket and hurried outside. He pumped the water pump’s handle up and down a few times until water filled the waiting bucket, and then plunged his head into the cold water.
Ray suddenly straightened and shook his head, sending water drops everywhere. He vigorously scrubbed his hands over his bearded face and through his hair, as though he could scrub the nightmare from his brain.
Dawn wasn’t too far away, and he really didn’t want to go back inside yet, so Ray just got a fire going in the pit. He grabbed a blanket that was airing nearby, wrapping it around himself to ward off the pre-dawn chill.
It had been almost week since the last time he’d had that particular nightmare, and he’d thought he was finally...adjusting. Pfft. Adjusting - gone insane more like. Ray didn’t need to look at the notches carved into the cabin wall to know he’d been there 72 days, this being day 73. No one to talk to except for that freakishly large kamikaze squirrel that kept him company off and on.
And he still didn’t know where he was or how he’d even got here.
Ray slipped off the log he’d been sitting on and sat on the ground with the log as a backrest. As was the case after every nightmare, Ray couldn’t help but remember those last moments before everything went to hell.
Looking back, Ray was kind of surprised at the way everything happened in slow motion, like one of those movie effects, except this was real life.
~~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~~
[flashback]
The three of them were ushered into an old-fashioned parlour where they kept fending off persistent offers of tea and dainties. The sisters - twins - were twitchy and creepy as all get out in their matching long black skirts and jackets and prim white blouses, white hair pulled back in matching tight buns. Even Fraser looked a bit unsettled.
Diefenbaker suddenly came to attention, hackles raised. He stared intently at a large painting on the far wall, growling and baring his teeth. Fraser and Ray turned to see what had alarmed the wolf, but a sudden yelp had them looking back in time to see Dief stagger and fall.
“What the hell did you do?” yelled Ray, although the answer is pretty obvious. Agatha (or maybe it was Emily) held a baseball bat.
Little old ladies or not, Ray pulled his gun while Fraser rushed to his fallen friend, oblivious to everything except Dief’s ominously still form.
And just like that everything seemed to slow down, even though it all happened too fast. Ray yelled for the crazy broads to drop everything, so focused on them that he barely caught movement from the corner of his eye. Ray called out a warning, training his gun on the new threat.
Fraser never saw what hit him; Ray fired as the axe connected with the back of Fraser’s head, dropping him like a stone.
“Ben!”
Ray had barely taken a step towards him when something hit him from behind. Stumbling, Ray turned as he fell and saw Emily (or maybe Agatha) holding a baseball bat. He brought his gun back up and fired, but instead of hitting anyone it shattered a jar on the table, sending a plume of white dust into the air. The dust burned his eyes and throat, choking the breath from his body.
The last thing he remembered before darkness swallowed him was the sight of Diefenbaker’s still body and Fraser’s empty blue eyes.
[end flashback]
~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~
The sun was peeking over the treetops, a reminder that Ray had to get moving. Experience had taught him that if he waited too long the fish would stop biting, but he just couldn’t seem to care enough to move.
A shower of acorns fell on his head. Ray looked up to see a large squirrel staring down at him. “Hey, Rocky. How many times have I got to tell you I’m not interested in your nuts?”
The squirrel jeered at him and tossed down another nut.
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a pain in the ass?” grumbled Ray, dragging himself to his feet. “You could be stew, you know.”
Rocky merely flicked his tail and took off, leaping from branch to branch.
Ray hoped Fraser would’ve been proud of how well Ray had adapted. Sometimes, Ray imagined Fraser was still alive, and they were actually in Canada somewhere sharing a little cabin in the wilderness.
Having prepared the fish for drying - “see, Frase, I was listening” - Ray went to collect his food basket.
When he’d first woken up here, wherever the hell ‘here’ was, he tried to get back to civilization. No matter how long he walked, how far he traveled, or which path he took, he always ended up back at the little cabin. It didn’t help that he had Hotel California on endless repeat in his head.
Eventually, Ray settled in. He had no choice; it was adapt or starve.
Help came from an unexpected source - food baskets left in the woods. Aimlessly walking one day, he literally stumbled across a basket filled with bread, cheese, vegetables and strawberries. The resulting belly ache had been worth it.
The next basket had appeared in the same place two days later, and again two days after that. The next care package, this one wrapped in a blanket instead of being in a basket, arrived two days after the previous delivery.
Finally, something concrete he could focus on. Ray staked out the area, waiting to see who’d been bringing him food. It took almost two weeks before he saw the food appear - it was as if someone waited for him to fall asleep before making the drop.
A girl, probably no more than 15 or 16, approached in the company of an older woman. The girl stopped at the edge of the tree line, set the basket down and picked up a long stick. Ray watched as she used the stick to push the basket into the small clearing. When the girl turned to leave, Ray broke cover and ran toward her.
“Hey! Wait up!”
She walked on with her companion as though she hadn’t heard him. Ray set off after her and suddenly found himself running into the yard at his cabin.
“Son of a bitch!” Ray had barely restrained himself from punching the wall in frustration and headed back to claim his food.
At least once a week since then, he tried to communicate with whoever brought the care package. Sometimes it was a young woman, other times it was a young man, or an elderly person, sometimes it was a small silent group. Even when he stood in plain sight, it was as if he was invisible - no one paid him any mind.
Ray was pragmatic enough to make the best of his situation. He was alone (not counting the crazy squirrel), trapped in a woodland version of the Hotel California, and apparently invisible to the human eye. On the other hand, he was alive, had food and water (he’d kill for a beer and some pizza), and still had his sanity (well, maybe).
When the sun set he banked the fire and prepared for bed. Weirdly, he didn’t really miss late night television all that much. When his evening chores were done, Ray carved another notch into the wall and went to bed.
Day 76 brought a change in routine, and a new mystery to solve.
Ray’s sleep was fitful, but there were no nightmares. He kept thinking he heard someone moving around outside the cabin but whenever he got up to look, no one was there.
Waking reluctantly and wishing for coffee for the millionth time, Ray stumbled out of the cabin and headed for the makeshift toilet area. On his way back, he stopped and stared at the yard. The fire pit had been lit, and a spit was set up over the hot coals. On the spit was a...rabbit? It was kind of hard to tell without its skin or anything. A quick look around revealed Rocky looking on from his usual perch, so yeah, it was probably rabbit.
Whatever it was, though, smelled like heaven. He looked around but could find no evidence of his mystery cook’s identity. Hunger eventually drove Ray to sample the cooked meat. Although he missed meat in his diet, he never could bring himself to kill and skin Bambi’s little buddy. But since someone had done the deed for him, he wasn’t going to say no to the feast.
As much as Ray approved of his diet upgrade, it was driving him nuts that he didn’t know who was leaving him the meat. Ray was pretty sure that it wasn’t one of the folks leaving him the care packages; they never moved past the tree line. And since there didn’t seem to be a way for anyone to move in or out of his personal enchanted forest, Ray was forced to consider that someone else was secretly sharing his space. The idea was more than a little unsettling.
A couple of weeks later, Ray grinned when Rocky stopped by for his regular evening visit to give Ray a nut and keep him company. “So, give already. Who’s been leaving me the roasts?” Ray gave his best interrogation glare. “You’re always around and you see everything, so I know you know.”
Rocky just stared back at him.
“Oh, a tough guy huh? Well, do me a favour and watch yourself. I don’t ever want to come back and find your chestnuts roasting over an open fire.”
Rocky suddenly twitched and silently disappeared into the shadows. Ray felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.
He was being watched.
As casually as possible, Ray began tidying up. The fire was banked, fresh wood stacked nearby. Linens that had been hung to dry were gathered, folded and taken inside. The bucket was positioned at the water pump, ready for the morning. Finally, the latest notch was carved into the wall and he entered his cabin, closing and bolting the door behind him. Hiding in the darkened room, he watched outside, but no one came near. Ray fell asleep just before dawn, still sitting by the window.
Ray groaned and tried to stretch, which resulted in a pain in his neck and back. Shit. He’d fallen asleep in his chair.
“Ray, Ray, Ray.”
Ray smiled at the fond exasperation in Ben’s voice. “Mornin’” he mumbled, keeping his eyes closed.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” asked Ben. “Did you have another bad dream?”
Ray frowned slightly, trying to remember why he’d been in his chair. “Yeah, maybe. Don’ r’mber.”
The sounds of someone puttering in the kitchen were comforting. The sounds also promised coffee may soon be available. But just to be sure, he begged, “Coffee?”
Ben’s chuckle came from right behind him. “Sounds like someone needs the good stuff.”
“An’ a backrub.”
“And a backrub. Which would you like first?”
“Do I look like I’m in any condition to make decisions, here? Freak.”
Ben laughed. “Okay, perhaps a bit of both then.”
Ray moaned with pleasure when Fraser’s strong fingers rubbed his neck. “Oh yeah, babe, just like that.”
“That sounds rather sexual, Ray.”
“Gimme that cup and there could be an orgasm.”
A warm cup was dutifully placed in Ray’s outstretched hand. Straightening slightly, he leaned back into his lover’s massaging fingers and lifted the cup to his lips. He took a large mouthful - and promptly spat it out.
“The hell?” His eyes snapped open to see a splash of red all over the wall. He looked down into his cup. It looked like “Blood?”
“Well, of course it’s blood - I told you, nothing but the best for you.”
Ray swung around, but suddenly scrambled away in horror. That was not - could not be - his Ben.
“You look a little peaked, Ray,” said the thing with Ben’s voice. “Are you feeling unwell? Perhaps the restless night is catching up with you.”
“Get away from me!”
“Really, Ray, now you’re just being unreasonable. I added coffee to the blood, so you can’t complain about not getting your caffeine fix.” He gestured to the cup still clutched in Ray’s hand. “Drink up, Ray. You’ve been looking a little pale lately - you really do need the iron.”
Ray tossed the cup away.
The resulting expression of hurt and confusion looked wrong on the grotesque mask - pale waxen skin and flat lifeless eyes - that should have been his lover’s face. When the fake Ben reached for him again, Ray grabbed his overturned chair and tossed it at him, using the distraction to make a break for the door. In his haste to escape, Ray tripped over something on the floor and fell, striking his head against the door jamb. He barely realized he’d tripped over Dief, who was lying in a pool of blood, before everything around him flashed white.
Rapid flashes of lightening greeted his escape from the nightmare. Jeez. What brought that on? Making sure the cabin was well lit, he stumbled outside intent on dunking his head in ice water - again. Mercifully, dawn had arrived, even if the sky was overcast. Another flash of lightening arced across the sky, but no rain fell.
Rounding the corner of the cabin, Ray caught a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye and turned. He screamed - although he would deny it to his dying breath - when he was met by a pair of dark inhuman eyes.
He stumbled back, tripping over his own feet and landing hard on his ass. He found himself staring up at a rather startled looking Rocky, who was perched on top of a stack of logs. “Jeez! Don’t do that!” he told the squirrel.
Suddenly lacking the energy to even try to get up again, Ray simply flopped back on the ground - wincing when his head hit too hard - and yelled at the top of his lungs. “I AM GOING OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND!”
Rocky scrambled down from his perch and over to where Ray still sprawled. He carefully walked up Ray’s right leg, over his belly and sat on Ray’s chest. Very gently, Rocky placed a nut on Ray’s chest.
Ray couldn’t help but grin. “Thanks buddy. Uh, is this your way of telling me you think I’m nuts?”
Rocky chattered at him for a moment and then jumped to the ground and took off.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Ray called after the departing squirrel. He grabbed the nut off his chest and sat up, suddenly feeling better for some reason. Pushing the remnants of his nightmare away, Ray headed back to the cabin - after a quick detour to the ‘facilities’ of course.
It was with a lighter heart that Ray went to collect the latest care package. He no longer bothered hiding since no one seemed able to see him anyway. Ray settled on a tree stump to wait.
His eyes closed in pleasure as he soaked up the sun that had finally broken through the clouds. The evenings had been getting cooler, but the sun still felt hot. He figured he'd have to think about winter clothes soon, but had no idea how to address the problem. It wasn't like he could drop by the mall or anything.
Rocky came over and perched on a low branch, just sitting in companionable silence. It wasn't as if they had actual conversations, but the feisty squirrel helped him feel a little less lonely.
Ray leaned back against the tree trunk and drowsed in the dappled sunlight. His mind took him back to Chicago and he wondered, not for the first time, what had happened after That Day. He was pretty sure Ben had been taken back Canada, probably had a grand funeral - all honours since he'd died in the line of duty. Ray wondered about Dief; he hoped the wolf had only been knocked out and was recovered. On the other hand, what was a deaf wolf going to do in the city?
And what about him? Was he listed as missing or presumed dead? Actually, that would be Vecchio since Ray Kowalski didn't exist. Ray snorted in amusement. Vecchio was going to be pissed if he tried coming back to his old life since he would be the one officially either dead or missing.
His folks might wonder, but they might just assume he was off on another undercover gig; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d disappeared for awhile. His dad always said Ray would get himself killed, so maybe that’s what they thought. Ray sort of hoped Stella missed him. It wasn't that he wanted to cause her pain or anything, but it would be nice to think that someone missed him - him, Stanley Raymond Kowalski, not him the substitute Ray Vecchio.
Rocky's chatter brought him back to the present. Ray looked across the glade and noticed a small group. Today there was a teen boy, an old woman and a man who looked to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, approaching the tree line.
He got up and approached them. "Afternoon, folks. Nice day, isn't it?" Ray addressed the man. “I don’t think I've seen you before. Did you just move here?"
The basket was set down, and the old woman handed the young man a branch, gesturing between the basket and the clearing. The young man didn't seem to understand what she wanted.
Ray crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm guessing you're new here," he said to the man. "First day on the job, huh?"
The man's gaze shot to the clearing, almost meeting Ray's eyes.
"Hey! Can you hear me?"
The man, however, returned his attention to what the woman was saying. Nodding, he adjusted his grip on the branch and nudged the basket until it was fully in the clearing. The movements were slow and careful, which prompted Ray to try to grab the branch.
The moment Ray touched the branch he jumped back as a shock traveled up his arm. He noticed that the man seemed to have felt something as well. The old woman began fussing over him as the teenager pulled the branch away from him and tossed it aside.
They were all talking at the same time, but Ray couldn't make out what they were saying. He knew it wasn't English, but couldn't quite identify it. He thought for a moment that it might be Polish; the old woman sounded vaguely like his grandma Kowalski did when she was talking to someone from the Old Country. But he could be wrong since the voices were muted.
Ray looked over at Rocky, who was also watching the lively discussion. "You know, buddy, this would be a whole hell of a lot more interesting with subtitles."
Rocky chittered back, which Ray took as agreement even if the squirrel had no idea what he meant.
Eventually, the little group moved away from the clearing. The teenager and the old woman kept tugging the man behind.
"Bye, folks. Thanks for coming," said Ray as he waved to them.
The man stopped and looked back again, and Ray swore the guy looked right at him. Ray moved closer to the tree line and watched the guy resist a bit before allowing himself to be led away.
"Huh." Ray had that feeling in his gut, the one that said a very important bit of evidence had just been dropped in his lap - the kind of evidence needed to bust a case wide open. The question was what to do with it.
Ray gathered his package and headed home. He had to think about what had happened; there had to be a way to use the incident to his advantage.
Once the basket was unpacked, he broke it down and added it to the pile of kindling. He never could figure out how to return the baskets, and after they'd piled up for a while, he just started using them for kindling.
Basic chores out of the way, Ray got the fire going and put on the kettle. He shook his head in wonder at how the cabin had been stocked. There was a big pot, a kettle, spoons and knives, ceramic dishes and cups - pretty much everything he needed. He'd even found an axe propped by the door.
He eyed the woodpile and smiled. Fraser would definitely be proud. It'd take some doing, but he was an old pro at wood chopping now, even if he did say so himself.
Thinking of Fraser made him think of Dief, and the day seemed a little less bright, even though the sun was still shining.
Ray pulled out his favourite knife and a block of wood. He examined the wood for a few minutes and then began to whittle away. He remembered once reading that a famous sculptor - Michelangelo, maybe? - claimed that the figure was already in the marble and all he had to do was chip away until it showed up. Ray figured that was as good an approach as any to working with wood.
He first started doing this because he was bored out of his freaking mind, but now he liked it. It was calming, kind of like meditation but without the smelly candles and new age crap music.
The first few attempts had become food for the fire, but now he had a small collection of ducks, a few fish and a bunch of toothpicks. Ray was pretty sure he was working on a squirrel, but would wait before committing to that.
As the day wound down, he took a break for supper and then began the nightly chores to clean up the area. He really didn't want to find out if there were rats or roaches anywhere nearby.
Another notch on the wall, another day done; Ray wondered if there would come a time when he didn't feel compelled to keep track.
That night, he slept deeply and nightmare free. When he woke, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or depressed by the new development. On the one hand restful sleep was a good thing; on the other hand he was afraid it meant he was giving up.
Well, it had to happen. The storm that had been threatening off and on over the past few days finally broke, bringing with it an almost wintery chill. Ray shivered in the morning gloom and pulled a woollen blanket around his shoulders. He’d resisted starting a fire in the woodstove because he didn’t want to accidentally set the cabin on fire, but now he really needed to counter the damp chill.
He lit up the cabin and gathered up the kindling he'd brought inside just in case. He opened the damper and then reached into the stove to adjust the wood. When everything was to his satisfaction, he started the fire, and breathed a sigh of relief when it caught right away.
Ray knew it would take a while before the chill left the cabin, so he brought over a few blankets to warm near the stove. He rummaged through his supplies and found the fixings for a simple vegetable stew. It wouldn't be gourmet, but it would be edible.
While the pot simmered, Ray pulled his chair over to the window. God, he wished he had a book to read, maybe a little music in the background. Instead, he slouched comfortably and listened to the rain outside; it was different from rain in the city, but still hypnotic.
He was roused by a noise outside the cabin. Sitting up straight, he looked around in confusion. It sounded like someone had tried to open the door.
Ray wished he had his gun, but made do with a knife as he quietly approached the door. He pressed his ear to the wood but could not hear anything on the other side. Even the rain had stopped.
A faint squelching sound brought him to the little window across the room. He flattened himself against the wall and carefully peered outside.
Nothing. Well, almost nothing. A wrapped package sat under the shelter of a large tree. Ray watched for a while, but there was no movement in the yard. Eventually, curiosity won out and Ray went to investigate.
It turned out that the package was in fact a wooden box. It was about the size of a box suitable for a blender or a toaster, simple with a latch but no decorations. Ray poked it a bit before picking it up and shaking it. He heard nothing. Weighing his options briefly, Ray decided to open it there rather than take it inside.
He carefully flipped the latch, opened the lid and peeked inside. He quickly opened the lid all the way and reached in to pull out a pair of boots. They were crudely made of leather, but looked comfortable. He brought them inside so he could try them on.
A perfect fit.
Huh. So who brought him boots? Ray knew the folks who delivered the care packages never moved beyond the tree line - in fact he had a theory that they couldn't actually come any closer, much the same way he couldn't cross that invisible line.
He looked at the boots again. There was no way the leather came from anything in his little woodland home. The breath left his body in a rush and he felt quite light-headed. Somewhere, there was a way to move between the woods and whatever lay beyond the trees.
Before he could take that thought any further, a strong gust of wind rattled the window and the rain returned. He took that as a sign to slow down and really think about the situation - or he would if he actually believed in stuff like that.
Ray carefully set his boots by the bed and took the stew off the stove. For the first time in a long time, he was ravenous.
The next few days were spent going over the boundaries of his land; Ray refused to use the word prison, even if it did feel like one. As soon as the rain let up, Ray spent sun up to sun down walking the perimeter and examining every path with new eyes. If someone was getting in, there had to be a way for him to get out.
By the end of the fourth day, Ray was cussing up a storm. There had to be an easier way to do this. He’d reached a point where he’d have to go on an overnight trip to reach the furthest boundaries, and that meant packing supplies. Trudging back to the cabin, Ray considered the wisdom of spending the night outdoors given that someone - presumably the Invisible Man, since he’d never been seen - was lurking nearby.
Ray grumbled to himself that this would be so much easier if someone would just take him by the hand and -
“Hello, Ray.”
Part 3