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ds_flashfictionTitle: At Rest
Rating: G
Word Count: 883, I think.
Summary: He hadn't spoken a word.
As Frannie walked into the waiting room, she moved easily between the cops, all standing around with cups of cold coffee, pretending that they weren't waiting for bad news. It was never easy when a cop went down, but this was even worse than she had expected. Her eyes searched the fringes of the room. There he was. She tightened her hold on the Styrofoam cup and gave up trying to be polite.
"Come on, out of the way, guys!"
And, amazingly enough, they moved. She knew everyone was shook up, but she hadn't realized how much until then. Of course, she was plenty shook up herself, but she wasn't a cop.
But Fraser was. And by the looks of it he had gone beyond shaken up to freaked out.
He was still in the corner, in a chair, posture perfect, his hat in his lap. He actually looked pretty normal, except that his hands were clenched around the brim of his hat tightly enough to turn the knuckles white. Oh, yeah, and he was staring at nothing. Just like he had been for the last eight hours. Dief crouched quietly next to the chair, the white fur of his legs rusty with blood.
She took a deep breath and shoved her way into his personal space, dropping into the chair next to him. "Here, take this." She gently untangled his hands from his hat and put it in her own lap even as she pushed the cup of hot tea into his hand.
For a moment, she didn't think he was going to come back enough to notice her, but Fraser seemed to snap back into himself as his eyes brightened. He looked at the cup, then at her, then back to the cup.
"Drink it, Fraser. I know you probably won't like it. I put too much sugar in it, but I read that sugar was good for..." Shock, she thought, but didn't say, her eyes drifting to the floor.
He nodded, taking a drink. Frannie watched him out of the corner of her eye. This was the problem- she didn't know how to talk to Fraser. Flirt with him, yes, but talk to him? She just didn't know what to say. She'd never really talked to Fraser before, not about anything that didn't involve getting him to ask her out.
"Fraser, he's going to be... Ray is..." Fraser turned to look at her again, and the words died in her throat. She remembered what she was going to say, but she couldn't say it. She'd been a cop's sister for a while; she'd done this drama a few times herself. Waiting for the doctor to come in with good or bad news, waiting for something, anything, while people whispered words that meant nothing. Words that were supposed to make her feel better. But they never had, and they wouldn't help Fraser either.
Instead of trying to say anything else, Frannie laid a hand on Fraser's shoulder, squeezing gently. She was here, with him, and that was all she could do. The rest was up to the doctors.
She was still there, holding onto Fraser, when the doctor finally came in.
He stopped in front of Fraser, and Frannie knew that was Welsh's doing. She heard him tell the nurses that Fraser was all the family Ray really had, even if he was supposed to be Ray Vecchio. When one of the other cops had commented, Welsh had held out a huge hand and glared at the guy. "This is bad stuff, and I will not let Kowalski die under someone else's name." Fraser had heard that, and his back had straightened, and his head came up, as if he was on guard duty. It had taken Frannie a little while to understand that he was trying to keep it together.
But as the four-hour surgery turned into six hours, and then seven, Fraser had begun to slip away, slowly, by degrees. He hadn't spoken a word since he made the 911 call; not to Welsh, to the doctors, not to anyone.
Frannie was absurdly grateful that Welsh had thought to tell them Ray's real name. It meant that it was Fraser that would have to deal with the doctors and the funeral home and... Frannie shook her head. Ray wasn't dead- he was strong; the doctor has said so, before they'd taken Ray into surgery.
"Mr. Fraser?"
"Constable." Frannie murmured, without meaning to. She tightened her hold on Fraser's shoulder, hoping to bring him some comfort if he needed it.
"Constable Fraser, your partner is... well, he's not good by any means, but he's in the recovery room right now. We found both the bullets and removed them. He's got a very long road ahead, but if he makes it through the night, then his chances are decent."
For a second, the only thing Frannie could hear was the blood rushing in her ears. She felt Fraser's entire body go rigid, and then start to tremble.
As the word of Ray's condition spread through the crowd of cops, it got even louder in the room. But beside her, Fraser was still silent, except for the shivers shaking him. When Frannie finally risked a look at his face she saw the tears.
END
Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kimberlyfdr for beta!
Rating: G
Word Count: 883, I think.
Summary: He hadn't spoken a word.
As Frannie walked into the waiting room, she moved easily between the cops, all standing around with cups of cold coffee, pretending that they weren't waiting for bad news. It was never easy when a cop went down, but this was even worse than she had expected. Her eyes searched the fringes of the room. There he was. She tightened her hold on the Styrofoam cup and gave up trying to be polite.
"Come on, out of the way, guys!"
And, amazingly enough, they moved. She knew everyone was shook up, but she hadn't realized how much until then. Of course, she was plenty shook up herself, but she wasn't a cop.
But Fraser was. And by the looks of it he had gone beyond shaken up to freaked out.
He was still in the corner, in a chair, posture perfect, his hat in his lap. He actually looked pretty normal, except that his hands were clenched around the brim of his hat tightly enough to turn the knuckles white. Oh, yeah, and he was staring at nothing. Just like he had been for the last eight hours. Dief crouched quietly next to the chair, the white fur of his legs rusty with blood.
She took a deep breath and shoved her way into his personal space, dropping into the chair next to him. "Here, take this." She gently untangled his hands from his hat and put it in her own lap even as she pushed the cup of hot tea into his hand.
For a moment, she didn't think he was going to come back enough to notice her, but Fraser seemed to snap back into himself as his eyes brightened. He looked at the cup, then at her, then back to the cup.
"Drink it, Fraser. I know you probably won't like it. I put too much sugar in it, but I read that sugar was good for..." Shock, she thought, but didn't say, her eyes drifting to the floor.
He nodded, taking a drink. Frannie watched him out of the corner of her eye. This was the problem- she didn't know how to talk to Fraser. Flirt with him, yes, but talk to him? She just didn't know what to say. She'd never really talked to Fraser before, not about anything that didn't involve getting him to ask her out.
"Fraser, he's going to be... Ray is..." Fraser turned to look at her again, and the words died in her throat. She remembered what she was going to say, but she couldn't say it. She'd been a cop's sister for a while; she'd done this drama a few times herself. Waiting for the doctor to come in with good or bad news, waiting for something, anything, while people whispered words that meant nothing. Words that were supposed to make her feel better. But they never had, and they wouldn't help Fraser either.
Instead of trying to say anything else, Frannie laid a hand on Fraser's shoulder, squeezing gently. She was here, with him, and that was all she could do. The rest was up to the doctors.
She was still there, holding onto Fraser, when the doctor finally came in.
He stopped in front of Fraser, and Frannie knew that was Welsh's doing. She heard him tell the nurses that Fraser was all the family Ray really had, even if he was supposed to be Ray Vecchio. When one of the other cops had commented, Welsh had held out a huge hand and glared at the guy. "This is bad stuff, and I will not let Kowalski die under someone else's name." Fraser had heard that, and his back had straightened, and his head came up, as if he was on guard duty. It had taken Frannie a little while to understand that he was trying to keep it together.
But as the four-hour surgery turned into six hours, and then seven, Fraser had begun to slip away, slowly, by degrees. He hadn't spoken a word since he made the 911 call; not to Welsh, to the doctors, not to anyone.
Frannie was absurdly grateful that Welsh had thought to tell them Ray's real name. It meant that it was Fraser that would have to deal with the doctors and the funeral home and... Frannie shook her head. Ray wasn't dead- he was strong; the doctor has said so, before they'd taken Ray into surgery.
"Mr. Fraser?"
"Constable." Frannie murmured, without meaning to. She tightened her hold on Fraser's shoulder, hoping to bring him some comfort if he needed it.
"Constable Fraser, your partner is... well, he's not good by any means, but he's in the recovery room right now. We found both the bullets and removed them. He's got a very long road ahead, but if he makes it through the night, then his chances are decent."
For a second, the only thing Frannie could hear was the blood rushing in her ears. She felt Fraser's entire body go rigid, and then start to tremble.
As the word of Ray's condition spread through the crowd of cops, it got even louder in the room. But beside her, Fraser was still silent, except for the shivers shaking him. When Frannie finally risked a look at his face she saw the tears.
END
Thanks to
kimberlyfdr for beta!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-02-24 06:45 pm (UTC)Go Frannie!
no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 12:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-24 06:50 pm (UTC)Guuuuuh. I'm going to try to be coherent, but after that it might not work.
I love it. I love how the situation started out intense, but you just kept building and building until the very end when Fraser's tears were as much of a relief to the reader as they were to Fraser and Frannie. I love Fraser, who often talks to deflect and as a result cope with things, rendered quiet by shock and fear. And I loved Frannie wanting to help and comfort Fraser but not knowing how.
Really nice work.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 12:35 am (UTC)(And your icon? Rocks.)
no subject
Date: 2005-02-24 07:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 12:35 am (UTC)Thanks.
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Date: 2005-02-24 07:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-24 09:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-24 09:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 12:37 am (UTC)Thanks!
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Date: 2005-02-24 10:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 12:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-24 10:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 12:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 03:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 05:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 10:57 am (UTC)Very nice
Date: 2005-02-25 06:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-25 09:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-26 01:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-26 01:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-26 06:13 pm (UTC)Really beautiful. Thanks for posting this.
At Rest FB
Date: 2005-02-28 08:35 am (UTC)Nicely done...
Lys