Going Home
by MR
It was nearly winter again.
From what little he could see of the courtyard below, Ray Kowalski
watched as the first snow of the season began, camouflaging the
dirty red bricks with a pristine layer of white. The thought made his
mouth twitch; Fraser'd always loved the first snowfall in Chicago.
Before the city had a chance to trample it into dirty gray slush.
With a sigh, he shifted his attention to his roommate. He wasn't sure
why they'd put him in with the guy. There was a lot he wasn't sure of
these days, things that seemed, somehow, just out of his mental reach.
On the tip of your tongue, his Mum used to say. When he'd been small,
he'd always stick his tongue out and try to look at the tip, expecting
to see something there.
But none of that mattered now, did it? Because today was the day he
got to go home. Fraser's dad had promised him that last week, when
he'd come to visit. Today he'd be going home to Fraser, and none of
this would matter. Faulty memory, comatose roommate, those surly
bitches that took care of him...none of that would matter anymore. He'd
be out of here.
Maybe it was that knowledge that made him do what he'd never done till
now; cross the room and take a really good look at the guy in the other
bed. There'd always been something about the stillness of the body
that made him nervous. The nervousness seemed to have vanished,
though, and he stood by the side of the bed, looking at the man he'd
shared this tiny cubbyhole they called a room with for...how long? It
seemed like forever.
Plant person. That's what the aide's called him. Turn him once a day
and keep him watered. Up close like this, it was hard to tell there
was anything wrong with him, other than the burns on his face. If you
could ignore the IV's he was hooked to, you'd almost think he was just
sleeping, and any minute now, he was gonna open his eyes and smile at
you.
"Who are you?" Ray asked, knowing he'd never receive an answer. "Who
are you and why are you here? How'd you get burned? Rescuing someone
you loved, maybe?" For some reason, the thought caused another tug on
his memory. Something was there, if he could just look at it from the
right angle. Something on the tip of his...
"Son?"
He looked up at Fraser's dad, standing in the doorway. Funny how he'd
never noticed the resemblance between the two before. He supposed this
was what Ben would look like in 20 years. "Hey. Time to go?"
Bob Fraser nodded. "Time to go. Fraser's waiting."
And Ray smiled, really smiled this time. "Yeah." It'd been so long
since he'd seen Fraser. Too damn long. "Why didn' he ever visit me?"
He asked Bob, as he took his jacket off the chair.
"Too hard on him, son." Bob Fraser held the door open. "It's been
so hard for him to not see you Ray, but he just couldn't."
"I know." And he did. Bob had told him before why Fraser couldn't
come to see him. "So what say we get this show on the road?"
They walked down the hall in silence, and if no one seemed to notice
them, well, that didn't surprise Ray. They'd been ignoring him for as
long as he'd been here. After the first week or so, he'd quit trying to
get their attention. He could manage okay on his own. He just wished...
He stopped suddenly and looked at Fraser's dad. "What about my
roommate?"
"He'll be fine, Ray. He's be leaving here today to."
"Yeah? They gonna ship him somewhere else?"
"You could say that."
And now, they were at the big metal doors that led into the ward, and
if it was strange that Bob just pushed the handle and they opened, Ray
didn't care, because he'd seen a flash of red through the window; just a small flash, but he knew what it meant...
And then they were through the door, and Fraser was there, with Dief,
and he didn't care that Ben's old man was watching, he ran into
Ben's arms and hugged him, and was enveloped once again in the warmth
and heat that was Benton Fraser, and he could've stood there forever,
just stayed where he was and never moved again.
"Ray." Fraser's voice was soft in his ear. "It's time to go home."
He untangled himself and stood back, looking at his lover, and Bob, and
good ol' Dief, and nodded. "Yeah it is, Ben. Way past time to go
home."
EPILOGUE
Danielle Cathart was pissed. It wasn't bad enough that she'd gotten
stuck dealing with Plant Man again, she didn't even have Angie there to
cheer her up. No, Angie was out with the flu, and they'd saddled her
with some little old lady who came from the era when nurse's still wore
caps, for Chrissakes, Helen somethingorother.
"We'll do 303 first," She told the shadow beside her, in a tone that
just dared her to question why. "Get the Pod Person out of the way."
"Pod person?" Helen looked confused, and Dani suppressed the urge to
hit something. Just her luck to get someone who was clueless.
"303. The coma patient."
"Oh, yes." Helen nodded. "I read his chart this afternoon. Such a
terrible thing to happen to a young man."
"He's not that high maintenance," Dani pushed the door to the room
open. "Just make sure the IV's are running clear, turn him, check for
bed sores, that sort've thing." She was all the way over to the
bedside when she realized Helen was still standing in the door. She
bit back a sigh. "He's perfectly harmless, Helen. Been here six
months and he hasn't even twitched."
Helen came in and stood beside her, looking at...hell, Dani didn't even
remember what his name was anymore. Kolaski? Something Polish. "Look,
you wait here. I'm gonna go into the bathroom and get his basin."
Helen nodded.
She had the basin halfway full when Helen suddenly appeared in the
doorway, white as a sheet. "Danielle? He's quit breathing."
Oh shit. She dropped the basin in the sink and followed Helen out. "I
was checking his IV's, and that's when I noticed he didn't have any
respiratory sounds. I know he's DNR, but I thought maybe..."
She trailed off abruptly, because Dani wasn't paying any attention to
her at all. She was standing beside the bed, staring at the body lying
there with something akin to fascination.
Six months, Dani thought. Six months, and never once had he opened his
eyes. Hell, she hadn't even known what color his eyes were, though she was
sure it was written in the chart.
"I was reading about him this afternoon." Helen said timidly. Then,
when Dani made no move to stop her, she continued. "Stanley Raymond
Kowalski, age 38, Chicago PD. He was badly burned and suffered a
closed head injury during a fire in his apartment building. The
neighbors, the one's he'd already gotten out, said he was going back in
for his lover, Benton Fraser. But the roof caved in before he could
get to him. Fraser and their dog died in the fire. "
"He's smiling." The words were strangled, but Dani managed to get them
out. "He's smiling, Helen. People who have irreversible brain damage
don't smile. They just don't."
Helen looked at the younger girl and sighed. Such a hard facade, but
underneath, she was still just a scared child. Then she looked at the
body of Ray Kowalski, at the pale blue eyes, already starting to cloud
over, and the slight smile on his lips. He looked, she decided, like a
man who'd finally gotten what he wanted.
Like a man who'd been set free.
FIN
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