o.O;; I got tricked!

[uselessplayback.livejournal.com]

I was in the middle of writing something completely different when this seized hold of my brain and squeezed until I cried Uncle.
Warning: It's kind of a deathfic.

So at 893 words:

It wasn't so much that Ray didn't believe in ghosts. Ray believed in ghosts in some paranoid and superstitious part of his nature but he didn't believe in ghosts. Ray didn't like to think that things got back up and kept going when they were dead. There was something reassuring about the finality; guy got whacked he didn't just get back up and start taking care of business like he'd never left. No, he stayed down; got a little rest for a change. Right?

Right.

Except that Fraser was standing in front of him.

"You're dead."

"Well . . . yes," Fraser said uncomfortably.

Then Ray was pacing. He was pacing because it wasn't like he could swing at Fraser because Fraser wasn't real. This was all a dream; some sick effort his subconscious was making to encourage him to stay asleep and he wasn't buying.

"No, see, I know you're not talking to me. I saw you die. The funeral? The burial? I was there for all that. You're dead."

Maybe if he closed his eyes. . . .

Nope, still there and, damn, if death wasn’t a good look on Fraser. Not that Fraser had ever looked bad alive.

"Well, actually, Ray, Halloween is often said to be a night when the spirits of the dead--"

"Fuck Halloween, Fraser! What? You woke up this morning in Ghostville and thought to yourself, 'Hey, it's Halloween! Let's go pay my old buddy Ray a visit?'" Ray snapped and then he wished he hadn't said it because Fraser looked hurt and pissed and lost all at once. Even if this was a bad dream, Ray never wanted to see that look on Fraser's face again.

"Frase--"

"I assure you it wasn't intentional," Fraser said and fuck if he didn't sound like he looked. Ray needed to kick himself.

. . . Ray couldn't believe he was buying into this.

. . . Ray was going to go out and get seriously drunk when he woke up.

"Look, Fraser, I'm sorry. The thing is, I'm glad to see you I just wish it was, you know, under better circumstances."

"I completely understand, Ray."

"I mean, when a guy goes to visit his best buddy's grave, he expects to see a piece of some kind of stone sticking out of the ground. Not a piece of stone with his buddy sitting on it. It's just weird, Fraser."

"I'm sorry, Ray. I'll be careful to sit on another grave marker next time but, you'll forgive me if I was unwilling to be so rude as to encroach on the dwellings of my neighbours."

"Neigh-- oh, Jesus!"

A woman with three missing teeth smiled crookedly at him from an adjacent headstone. Ray waved weakly.

"Uh, Frase, seeing one ghost doesn't mean you suddenly see all of 'em, does it?"

"In my experience, Ray, most ghosts tend to avoid interfering in the material world with a few notable exceptions."

"Oh good. 'Cause I didn't want to start making like Michael J. Fox in The Frighteners. I have a delicate constitution, Fraser; just seeing you nearly put me under."

Fraser frowned but anything he or Ray might say next was destined to hang in the air until it forced its way through the protective barrier of awkwardness that had suddenly risen to suffocate them both. Ray suddenly felt like he was on the first date and they were still working their way past the getting-to-know-you part. Only he and Fraser already knew each other so maybe this was the I’m-not-sure-how-much-longer-this-evening-is-going-to-last part which was just silly. And Ray was suddenly worried that maybe Fraser had been away so long that they didn’t have anything in common anymore which was even sillier because Fraser was here now, right?

“So . . . this thing,” Ray said, waving his hand to include Fraser and himself. “When does it end? I mean, do you have a curfew?”

“Not as such, no. I—Ray, there was one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I meant to say—well, that is what I—well—“

Suddenly Ray didn’t want to hear it. “Don’t.”

“Ray?”

“Don’t. Just . . . just--let’s pretend like you’re still here and I’ve still . . . and I can still pretend like there’s nothing I want to say because I’ve . . . because I’ve got forever not to say it.”

“Ray?”

How had he gotten so close? It was closer, maybe than Fraser had ever gotten to him alive but that wasn’t true. It was like, if Ray stepped forward a little he could be inside Fraser and that was something he had always wanted wasn’t it? But not like this. And then Ray was sobbing uncontrollably and laughing because Fraser looked like he wanted to put his arms around Ray but they both knew he couldn’t.

Ray didn’t want any true confessions, he wanted his friend back. He didn’t want Fraser to tell him all those things he never said because that would make all of this real and Ray liked real when it was with Fraser even if that meant never saying what he thought about all the time.

Ray didn’t know how long they stood waiting for him to finish letting it out.

“Hey, Frase? You gotta be home anytime soon?”

“No, Ray, I have all night.”