OC Challenge by Tara Keezer
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ds_flashfictionTitle: Refuge
Author: Tara Keezer
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Gen
Summary: Delmar’s cabin offers Ray a refuge.
Notes: This is a sequel to “Kowalski is Dead”; reading that first isn’t required, but it may help. I started plotting this a while ago, but until the challenge hit, I hadn’t done anything more with it. 1,660 words.
The dim glow coming through the window told Ray exactly jack and squat about what time it really was, so he groped for his watch on the night stand and squinted. He gave up after a moment, sighing as he swung his legs over the side of the cot.
“No point,” he mumbled, startling himself with the sound of his own voice.
Down in Mexico, shortly after he realized he was slowly but surely getting fucked over by Dickerson, Ray dreamt of disappearing into the north and shutting himself off from all contact. It was the perfect fantasy, and it got him through some seriously rough shit, but after five weeks in Delmar’s cabin, Ray knew without a doubt that being alone this completely sucked. It sucked big time, and it was no wonder that Delmar finally went off his rocker.
“Okay, Kowalski,” he said, his voice rough. “Time to get dressed and start working on the north corner.”
Delmar’s cabin was a godsend, no question about that, but it was also a rat’s nest. The man saved everything he’d ever received, from his failing report cards for Grade Four to the red flag Fraser shot out of a crevasse seven years earlier. When Ray came across that scrap of fabric five days into his cleaning project, he sat down and stared at it for a good hour, wondering how the hell he’d let his life get so off track.
Now dressed, he stood next to the wood stove, peering at the calendar and trying to figure out what day it was. When Fraser dropped him at the cabin, he’d insisted that Ray pay attention to the calendar, and Ray had come to realize that Fraser was, as usual, right.
~*~*~
”You don’t understand, Ray,” he said, worried and in a hurry to get back to the Detachment. “You need something to mark the days.”
“But —”
“You’ve never been cut off from human contact for so long.” Fraser looked a little lost for a minute then shook himself. “Trust me, you need a way to mark the passage of days. If Diefenbaker were still —”
Fraser couldn’t finish the sentence, and Ray didn’t have the heart to either. “Yeah. Okay. You want me to do anything about any of this?”
They were saying their goodbyes in the middle of Delmar’s eight-by-ten cabin, and there was barely enough room for the two of them to stand side by side. Stacks of papers, cured pelts, touristy knick-knacks and a thousand other things that made up Delmar’s life filled the small space. In one sense, it was depressing as hell. In another sense, it was Delmar’s legacy — his own fucked up autobiography — and that was something Ray could respect, much to his surprise.
“No, that’s quite all — what the hell am I saying? You’ll have to clean up if you want to be able to walk more than three feet in any direction.” Fraser looked around the cabin. “Maybe I can find another place for you to hide. I hadn’t realized it was this bad.”
“Nah. This is good. It’ll give me something to do while I’m waiting.” Ray nudged a tattered cardboard box with his foot. “Any chance he’ll be able to come back here?”
“Unlikely. When I spoke with the doctors three weeks ago, they said he was slipping further into dementia.”
“That’s a shame.” It really was, though Ray couldn’t help but grateful to Delmar for saving him one last time.
~*~*~
It turned out the day was Wednesday, which made Ray whine a little, because Wednesday meant pemmican for breakfast. He couldn’t stand the shit, and never mind that it was keeping him alive better than anything else could. Stuff tasted like crap, and there wasn’t enough A-1 Steak Sauce in the world to make it any better. On the other hand, Wednesday also meant he was one day closer to coming back from the dead, so that wasn’t too bad.
When he finished eating and stoking up the fire in the stove — ”Springtime, my ass” — Ray moved to the north corner of the cabin. It was strange at first, going through Delmar’s stuff, because Ray couldn’t get into the rhythm of it. Then, the day after he found that red flag, Ray finally clicked into detective mode. Once that happened, it was easier to sort through everything and figure out what needed to be kept and what should be burned.
~*~*~
”They’ll be watching me,” Fraser said as he checked the harnesses one last time. “I won’t be able to come visit.”
“You remember what to tell Stella?”
“Yes.” Fraser didn’t quite roll his eyes, but Ray thought he wanted to. “I’m to tell her that I remembered you once asked for Sister Mike to be notified of your death.”
“Great. Greatness.”
Fraser finished with the sled and climbed on the back. “She’ll know to get in touch with me when she has everything gathered?”
“Yeah.” It had been the only way he could think of to set up a blind drop without knowing how much Fraser would or could help. He just hoped like hell that Stella’s package wouldn’t get intercepted. Ray took a last, long look at Fraser. “See you in six weeks, okay?”
“Okay.” Fraser looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead, he just called out, “Come on, guys. Let’s go.”
~*~*~
Ray was flipping through one of Delmar’s skin mags — the March 1976 issue of Playboy — when he heard faint barking.
“No. Nonononono. Too early, damn it.” He went to the cot and pulled the rifle out. It was an unexpected find three weeks earlier, and Ray could’ve kissed Delmar for keeping the ammunition next to it. The gun probably hadn’t been shot in years, considering the layer Ray had found it in, but he’d had plenty of time to clean it and get it in good working order again.
Ray glanced out the window and started cursing. The sled was too fucking close for Ray to slip away unnoticed and too far away for him to see who was on it. Best he could tell, there were two people coming in, one wearing a Stetson. He raised the window a little and was about to stick the muzzle out when he heard it.
Northwest Passage.
He slumped against the wall and willed his heart to slow down a little. Fraser was on that sled, and he was singing the one song guaranteed to make Ray feel safe. Once he could breathe a little easier, Ray pushed himself off the floor and went outside to meet Fraser and whoever it was he’d brought along.
~*~*~
He went over it in his head a thousand times after Fraser left him in the cabin, checking and rechecking every angle until he was near crazy from it. And he still wasn’t able to think of a better plan than the one he’d thought of in the airport. It was a crazy, stupid idea, and it was something Stella had been more than happy to point out when he’d showed up on her doorstep at midnight.
“Just turn yourself in. I’ll make sure you stay safe,” she’d said.
Even before Ray could start arguing with her, Vecchio had stepped in, surprising the hell out of Ray. “He’s right. He won’t be safe in custody, not if even half what he says is true. Dickerson will find a way.”
Stella hadn’t liked that, not one little bit. “So you’re saying you actually approve of this?”
“It’s the best way.” Vecchio had gotten all quiet and reasonable. “He’s got a good plan. It’ll work, because it’s simple.”
~*~*~
“This was his life, Stella.” Ray hated the look on her face and wanted more than anything to get her to understand. “Everything Delmar was, it was here.”
“Ray, this place is a pig sty. How could you stand it?” She refused to sit down and stood just inside the door.
“Come on, don’t be like that.” In the time he’d spent going through Delmar’s life, Ray had grown fond of the guy. He’d had no real friends these last few years, except for Fraser, and that reminded Ray a little too much of himself. “Fraser? Tell her about Delmar, would you?”
“Frankly, I’m more concerned about getting back to the Detachment than I am about Mrs. Vecchio’s opinion of the man whose cabin has kept you safe these past weeks,” he answered with a pointed look at Stella. “There’s a storm brewing in the Beaufort Sea, and if we leave now, right now, we might have just enough time to get back.” The way Fraser was throwing Ray’s things together into the pack spoke loudly of how worried he was. “I never should have agreed to bring you along, Mrs. Vecchio.”
“Like you could stop her.” That earned a glare from Stella, which made Ray grin a little. It felt just like old times, except for the part where Fraser was too freaked out to worry about folding everything neatly.
“Did you do any snowshoeing while you were here?” They were outside now, and Fraser was bundling Stella back into the sled.
“A little, not much.”
Fraser frowned. “Do you think you could drive the sled?”
“Probably. I was pretty good at it the last time.”
“Fine. You drive, I’ll run.”
Ray hesitated. “Let me just —”
“No, Ray. There’s no time.”
“But —”
Fraser hustled Stella to the sled then took a long look at Ray. “You did good work here. Delmar would, I think, be grateful. But it’s time to leave this behind.”
“I guess.” Ray took a last look around. “Everything he was, it was stacked up in those piles, you know? I just hate to think it’s gonna sit here like this forever.”
“It won’t.” Fraser touched Ray’s arm gently. “I’ll make sure the cabin is secure. When you’ve finished in Washington, you can come back and finish it.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m certain.”
Author: Tara Keezer
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Gen
Summary: Delmar’s cabin offers Ray a refuge.
Notes: This is a sequel to “Kowalski is Dead”; reading that first isn’t required, but it may help. I started plotting this a while ago, but until the challenge hit, I hadn’t done anything more with it. 1,660 words.
The dim glow coming through the window told Ray exactly jack and squat about what time it really was, so he groped for his watch on the night stand and squinted. He gave up after a moment, sighing as he swung his legs over the side of the cot.
“No point,” he mumbled, startling himself with the sound of his own voice.
Down in Mexico, shortly after he realized he was slowly but surely getting fucked over by Dickerson, Ray dreamt of disappearing into the north and shutting himself off from all contact. It was the perfect fantasy, and it got him through some seriously rough shit, but after five weeks in Delmar’s cabin, Ray knew without a doubt that being alone this completely sucked. It sucked big time, and it was no wonder that Delmar finally went off his rocker.
“Okay, Kowalski,” he said, his voice rough. “Time to get dressed and start working on the north corner.”
Delmar’s cabin was a godsend, no question about that, but it was also a rat’s nest. The man saved everything he’d ever received, from his failing report cards for Grade Four to the red flag Fraser shot out of a crevasse seven years earlier. When Ray came across that scrap of fabric five days into his cleaning project, he sat down and stared at it for a good hour, wondering how the hell he’d let his life get so off track.
Now dressed, he stood next to the wood stove, peering at the calendar and trying to figure out what day it was. When Fraser dropped him at the cabin, he’d insisted that Ray pay attention to the calendar, and Ray had come to realize that Fraser was, as usual, right.
”You don’t understand, Ray,” he said, worried and in a hurry to get back to the Detachment. “You need something to mark the days.”
“But —”
“You’ve never been cut off from human contact for so long.” Fraser looked a little lost for a minute then shook himself. “Trust me, you need a way to mark the passage of days. If Diefenbaker were still —”
Fraser couldn’t finish the sentence, and Ray didn’t have the heart to either. “Yeah. Okay. You want me to do anything about any of this?”
They were saying their goodbyes in the middle of Delmar’s eight-by-ten cabin, and there was barely enough room for the two of them to stand side by side. Stacks of papers, cured pelts, touristy knick-knacks and a thousand other things that made up Delmar’s life filled the small space. In one sense, it was depressing as hell. In another sense, it was Delmar’s legacy — his own fucked up autobiography — and that was something Ray could respect, much to his surprise.
“No, that’s quite all — what the hell am I saying? You’ll have to clean up if you want to be able to walk more than three feet in any direction.” Fraser looked around the cabin. “Maybe I can find another place for you to hide. I hadn’t realized it was this bad.”
“Nah. This is good. It’ll give me something to do while I’m waiting.” Ray nudged a tattered cardboard box with his foot. “Any chance he’ll be able to come back here?”
“Unlikely. When I spoke with the doctors three weeks ago, they said he was slipping further into dementia.”
“That’s a shame.” It really was, though Ray couldn’t help but grateful to Delmar for saving him one last time.
It turned out the day was Wednesday, which made Ray whine a little, because Wednesday meant pemmican for breakfast. He couldn’t stand the shit, and never mind that it was keeping him alive better than anything else could. Stuff tasted like crap, and there wasn’t enough A-1 Steak Sauce in the world to make it any better. On the other hand, Wednesday also meant he was one day closer to coming back from the dead, so that wasn’t too bad.
When he finished eating and stoking up the fire in the stove — ”Springtime, my ass” — Ray moved to the north corner of the cabin. It was strange at first, going through Delmar’s stuff, because Ray couldn’t get into the rhythm of it. Then, the day after he found that red flag, Ray finally clicked into detective mode. Once that happened, it was easier to sort through everything and figure out what needed to be kept and what should be burned.
”They’ll be watching me,” Fraser said as he checked the harnesses one last time. “I won’t be able to come visit.”
“You remember what to tell Stella?”
“Yes.” Fraser didn’t quite roll his eyes, but Ray thought he wanted to. “I’m to tell her that I remembered you once asked for Sister Mike to be notified of your death.”
“Great. Greatness.”
Fraser finished with the sled and climbed on the back. “She’ll know to get in touch with me when she has everything gathered?”
“Yeah.” It had been the only way he could think of to set up a blind drop without knowing how much Fraser would or could help. He just hoped like hell that Stella’s package wouldn’t get intercepted. Ray took a last, long look at Fraser. “See you in six weeks, okay?”
“Okay.” Fraser looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead, he just called out, “Come on, guys. Let’s go.”
Ray was flipping through one of Delmar’s skin mags — the March 1976 issue of Playboy — when he heard faint barking.
“No. Nonononono. Too early, damn it.” He went to the cot and pulled the rifle out. It was an unexpected find three weeks earlier, and Ray could’ve kissed Delmar for keeping the ammunition next to it. The gun probably hadn’t been shot in years, considering the layer Ray had found it in, but he’d had plenty of time to clean it and get it in good working order again.
Ray glanced out the window and started cursing. The sled was too fucking close for Ray to slip away unnoticed and too far away for him to see who was on it. Best he could tell, there were two people coming in, one wearing a Stetson. He raised the window a little and was about to stick the muzzle out when he heard it.
Northwest Passage.
He slumped against the wall and willed his heart to slow down a little. Fraser was on that sled, and he was singing the one song guaranteed to make Ray feel safe. Once he could breathe a little easier, Ray pushed himself off the floor and went outside to meet Fraser and whoever it was he’d brought along.
He went over it in his head a thousand times after Fraser left him in the cabin, checking and rechecking every angle until he was near crazy from it. And he still wasn’t able to think of a better plan than the one he’d thought of in the airport. It was a crazy, stupid idea, and it was something Stella had been more than happy to point out when he’d showed up on her doorstep at midnight.
“Just turn yourself in. I’ll make sure you stay safe,” she’d said.
Even before Ray could start arguing with her, Vecchio had stepped in, surprising the hell out of Ray. “He’s right. He won’t be safe in custody, not if even half what he says is true. Dickerson will find a way.”
Stella hadn’t liked that, not one little bit. “So you’re saying you actually approve of this?”
“It’s the best way.” Vecchio had gotten all quiet and reasonable. “He’s got a good plan. It’ll work, because it’s simple.”
“This was his life, Stella.” Ray hated the look on her face and wanted more than anything to get her to understand. “Everything Delmar was, it was here.”
“Ray, this place is a pig sty. How could you stand it?” She refused to sit down and stood just inside the door.
“Come on, don’t be like that.” In the time he’d spent going through Delmar’s life, Ray had grown fond of the guy. He’d had no real friends these last few years, except for Fraser, and that reminded Ray a little too much of himself. “Fraser? Tell her about Delmar, would you?”
“Frankly, I’m more concerned about getting back to the Detachment than I am about Mrs. Vecchio’s opinion of the man whose cabin has kept you safe these past weeks,” he answered with a pointed look at Stella. “There’s a storm brewing in the Beaufort Sea, and if we leave now, right now, we might have just enough time to get back.” The way Fraser was throwing Ray’s things together into the pack spoke loudly of how worried he was. “I never should have agreed to bring you along, Mrs. Vecchio.”
“Like you could stop her.” That earned a glare from Stella, which made Ray grin a little. It felt just like old times, except for the part where Fraser was too freaked out to worry about folding everything neatly.
“Did you do any snowshoeing while you were here?” They were outside now, and Fraser was bundling Stella back into the sled.
“A little, not much.”
Fraser frowned. “Do you think you could drive the sled?”
“Probably. I was pretty good at it the last time.”
“Fine. You drive, I’ll run.”
Ray hesitated. “Let me just —”
“No, Ray. There’s no time.”
“But —”
Fraser hustled Stella to the sled then took a long look at Ray. “You did good work here. Delmar would, I think, be grateful. But it’s time to leave this behind.”
“I guess.” Ray took a last look around. “Everything he was, it was stacked up in those piles, you know? I just hate to think it’s gonna sit here like this forever.”
“It won’t.” Fraser touched Ray’s arm gently. “I’ll make sure the cabin is secure. When you’ve finished in Washington, you can come back and finish it.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m certain.”
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