ds_flashfiction | ADMIN: Posting for Shokabuku

Author’s note: I was happily freaked and fascinated by seeing many different Callums appear in the recent version of Battlestar Galactica (Callum as a Cylon? Whoa. Callum as a bunch of Cylons? Double-whoa.) Any-hoo...my brain apparently ran with this idea and this is what transpired in dreamland for me last night. Thought it was interesting enough to share with you guys...hope you like it. Let me know. Thanks for reading.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fraser waited patiently at parade rest. Others around him had already claimed their luggage and were moving out through the airport doors, but his lone pack had not yet emerged from the depths of the baggage claim area. He sighed...more like a merry-go-round for inanimate objects...he rolled his eyes at his silly observation.

He breathed a small sigh of relief when he saw he well-worn pack sliding down the chute and onto the pads of the circular machine. Releasing from parade rest, he bent over, grabbed the pack, and readily shouldered it. Turning towards the doors, he was surprised to see Ray standing directly in front of him.

"Ray! How did you know when I was returning?"

"I’m sorry, sir, you must have me confused with someone else. I just wanted to get your bag to you before you left the airport. Here you go." With that, the person who looked like Ray dropped a bag at his feet and quickly strode away.

"Wait, Ray...uhm, sir! This is not my bag!" Fraser bent down to examine the item, and was shocked to see a luggage tag with his name on it, in his own handwriting. Curious, he was about to unzip the top when he was interrupted.

"Excuse me, sir. Sorry for the delay on your luggage. Here you go." Again, it was Ray, but apparently not Ray, with a smile on his face handing him a bag.

"I think you may have made a mistake, sir. This bag is not mine." Fraser said calmly.

"Look again...it’s your name, so it must be your baggage." With that, the not-Ray turned and walked away.

Suddenly, there were several people all around him, all who were Ray or looked like him down to little details...his jeans and black leather jacket on this one, his flattened hair and trench coat on another, his tight tee and brown holster on yet another, even one in red serge when Ray had stolen his uniform...all pressing various-sized parcels and luggage upon him.

Fraser tried to explain that they simply didn’t belong to him, yet every single piece had his name in his own handwriting on it. Arguing was doing no good, and the Ray-folk were not letting him give the items back. He was overwhelmed, completely surrounded by a pile of bags that came to almost waist height. Some had his current address on them, some were labeled NWT, some were from places he had lived while on the road with his grandparents, there were two designated from Moose Jaw...

Suddenly, it was just too much. Fraser fell to his knees and sat back in the middle of the pile, not understanding. Now that he looked closely, all the bags, satchels, backpacks, suitcases, and trunks were his...or had been at one point or another in his life. But, "they are from my past..."

"Are you sure about that?" One of the Rays asked him, pointing at him in his usual and dramatic way.

Another Ray came and lifted one of the bags. "You want I should open it for you? You know, check what’s inside and make sure it’s yours?" He started to unzip the closure on the small brightly colored suitcase.

Fraser’s memory flashed violently. This was the suitcase that his father packed for him to go stay with his grandparents while he took care of his mum’s funeral arrangements. He started to shake and cried, "No! No...please don’t open it..."

A Ray in different clothes came up and jiggled the lock on a well-used trunk. "What about this one? Want to make sure it’s yours?" He took his gun out of the holster and aimed it at the lock.

"Wait!" Fraser yelled, recognizing his trunk from his apartment in Chicago, before it was destroyed by fire. The trunk that Victoria stole his gun from, the trunk that held his father’s commendations, the trunk that... "NO! Please, don’t..."

"Look mister," said another Ray, coming up to him, "You need to get all of this out of here, you’re blocking traffic."

"Yeah," said another, "if you didn’t need all this stuff, why did you pack it anyway?" This Ray popped a stick of gum in his mouth and walked away, shaking his head.

Suddenly, Fraser was surrounded not just by luggage, but by many different Rays, all talking at once... "Move this stuff, buddy." "What the hell you need all this for?" "Jeez, Frase, usually I’m the one who overpacks..."

The noise was deafening, and Fraser put his hands over his ears. Everywhere he looked there were bags and there were Rays...he shut his eyes, and started shaking his head.

Someone had his hands in theirs, pulling them from his ears. Fraser blinked his eyes open to see Ray sitting in front of him. He smiled at him and said, "Holy crap, Frase! Why don’t you just unpack some of this shit if you don’t need it anymore?"

Fraser looked around him at the giant pile of luggage, backpacks, and trunks. "I didn’t know that I hadn’t..." He looked up and saw the multitude of Rays shaking their heads, some laughing, and a few of them crying.

The Ray in front of him said, "If you can’t leave this stuff behind you, you’ll have to claim it everywhere you go. You don’t want that, do you?"

Fraser’s eyes widened, and he sucked in a panicked breath, shaking his head. "No."

Still smiling gently at him, Ray said, "Then, Benton-buddy, you need to get rid of this stuff. Whatever you don’t need anymore, chuck it...send it on a one-way trip to the land of the lost. Otherwise, you’ll always have it with you...everywhere you are."

Fraser shuddered violently at that, dropping his head and staring at the floor. Ray moved his hands to his shoulders, calming him with touch. "It’s okay, Frase. I’ll help if you want me to..."

"No, Ray," Fraser said sadly, "it’s mine to deal with, and so I shall."

At this, Ray stood suddenly, looking down at Fraser in fury, "Fine then! Do it all alone, be by yourself...that’s what you always do...it’s what you always want..." He turned, shoving baggage and his other selves out of the way to stomp off into nothingness.

The other Rays turned one by one to look at Fraser, then they too started to angrily march away. Fraser panicked, "Ray...wait! Please, Ray...I’m sorry..."

The many facets of Ray were quickly leaving him, vanishing into thin air, stranding him alone with his burdensome layers of baggage.

"Ray! Please!"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was trying so hard to stay awake that he should have known he would fall asleep. Ray shifted slightly on the chair, trying to get more comfortable. He was in that muzzy fuzzy land of in-between when he was startled completely into awake land by...

"Ray! Please!" Fraser cried out hoarsely. He was tossing his head back and forth on the pillow, brow all furrowed and frowning.

Ray jumped up and leaned over his friend, grabbing his hand in a tight grip. "Fraser! I’m right here, buddy! Wake up...come on, open those bright blues for me..."

Fraser’s eyes slammed open, staring widely at Ray. He turned his head from side to side, looking around the room, then focused back on his friend. "Where are the others?"

Ray, looking bemused, sat back down in his chair. He kept Fraser’s hand warmly clasped in his own, as the Mountie’s grip was ferocious. "Who are you talking about, Frase?"

Fraser looked about the room one more time, and when his eyes settled once again on his partner, they looked less panicked. "I...um...I must have dreamed them...sorry, Ray."

Ray smiled, "That’s okay, buddy. I’m just glad you’re awake."

"What happened, Ray?"

Ray sighed and ran his free hand over his tired face. "Your plane went down en route from the Territories. If Diefenbaker hadn’t run his ass off to get help, you and the pilot would both be donesky." Ray’s grip tightened on Fraser’s hand.

Fraser frowned, "From the...where are we, Ray?"

Ray frowned back at him, "In the hospital, what do you think?"

Fraser signed and leaned back against the pillow. He closed his eyes, trying to make sense of what had happened and what he had experienced...in his mind?

Ray, thinking that Fraser was going back to sleep, started to softly disengage his hand from his partners...but he was unprepared for the violent reaction from Fraser.

"No! Please, Ray...don’t go!" Fraser gripped Ray’s hand tighter and pulled it close to his chest. He covered both their hands with his other one, holding them tightly.

"Okay, okay...I’m not going anywhere...calm down..." Ray said quietly. He looked up at Fraser’s face, and was shocked to see tears threatening to undo the Mountie. "Hey, what’s the matter?" He used his free hand to push Fraser’s hair off his face, and then continued to stroke through it, to try to calm him down.

"Ray, I..." Fraser gasped in a breath, "I need to unpack." With that, he burst into tears.

Ray leaned forward, pulling Fraser into his arms, rocking him back and forth, chanting soothing words... "it’s okay...shhh...I’ll help you, if you want...don’t worry... whatever needs to be unpacked, we’ll do it together, okay..."

Fraser nodded into Ray’s shoulder, clutching tightly at his shirt, sobbing. "Okay, Ray."

THE END