due South: A Lack of Color (PG-ish)
300 words, written for ds_snippets prompt red
For slidellra, in hopes that the prodigal lost zebra returns home.
Umm... a wee bit angsty, perhaps a tiny bit of gore, but they'll live happily ever after - I promise. :)
Summary: Ray never used to hate the color red.
A Lack of Color
by Stars
Ray never used to hate the color red.
After all, red was part and parcel of what made Fraser Fraser - the Uniform, of course, and those crazy thermal undies; his thick warm plaid flannel coat, and even a button-down shirt with white stitching.
And when the bullpen was insanely noisy, a flash of red serge in the corner of his eye would give Ray his first glimpse of Fraser - he'd lift his head and grin, Fraser would smile back, and then Ray would jerk his head toward the break room and jump up to get his third-fourth coffee of the morning while Fraser rolled his eyes and shook his head just the tiniest bit.
So sometimes Ray's heart might skip a little beat when the consulate flag flapped wildly in the wind (red maple leaf, red bars, so what if it wasn't his flag? Canada had been damn good to him) and maybe he thought the Hawks' home jerseys were much cooler than their road jerseys.
But that was all before; because now - now Ray never wanted to see anything red ever again. He didn't want to be here, kneeling on the dirty sidewalk, on cracked concrete that should be gray but was slowly turning red, stained crimson and scarlet and vermilion as Fraser lay sprawled beneath his hands, bleeding out. Fucking exsanguinating.
"No more red, Fraser," Ray panted harshly, desperately applying more pressure as blood oozed between his fingers. "You hear me? You are going to the hospital, where you are going to be just fine, because we are done with red. I'm thinking - white. Snow, ice, polar bears, igloos, whatever the fuck as long as it's white. Alabaster, even. Pearl. Fucking ivory."
Fraser's eyes fluttered open; he struggled to speak.
A weak whisper.
" 'der...stood."
For slidellra, in hopes that the prodigal lost zebra returns home.
Umm... a wee bit angsty, perhaps a tiny bit of gore, but they'll live happily ever after - I promise. :)
Summary: Ray never used to hate the color red.
A Lack of Color
by Stars
Ray never used to hate the color red.
After all, red was part and parcel of what made Fraser Fraser - the Uniform, of course, and those crazy thermal undies; his thick warm plaid flannel coat, and even a button-down shirt with white stitching.
And when the bullpen was insanely noisy, a flash of red serge in the corner of his eye would give Ray his first glimpse of Fraser - he'd lift his head and grin, Fraser would smile back, and then Ray would jerk his head toward the break room and jump up to get his third-fourth coffee of the morning while Fraser rolled his eyes and shook his head just the tiniest bit.
So sometimes Ray's heart might skip a little beat when the consulate flag flapped wildly in the wind (red maple leaf, red bars, so what if it wasn't his flag? Canada had been damn good to him) and maybe he thought the Hawks' home jerseys were much cooler than their road jerseys.
But that was all before; because now - now Ray never wanted to see anything red ever again. He didn't want to be here, kneeling on the dirty sidewalk, on cracked concrete that should be gray but was slowly turning red, stained crimson and scarlet and vermilion as Fraser lay sprawled beneath his hands, bleeding out. Fucking exsanguinating.
"No more red, Fraser," Ray panted harshly, desperately applying more pressure as blood oozed between his fingers. "You hear me? You are going to the hospital, where you are going to be just fine, because we are done with red. I'm thinking - white. Snow, ice, polar bears, igloos, whatever the fuck as long as it's white. Alabaster, even. Pearl. Fucking ivory."
Fraser's eyes fluttered open; he struggled to speak.
A weak whisper.
" 'der...stood."