Broken Challenge by Aingeal
Aug. 27th, 2007 11:53 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ds_flashfictionTitle: Broken Fragments
Author: Aingeal
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio (kinda unrequited)
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1325
Summary: After the events at the end of Victoria's Secret Ray takes in the devastation Fraser left behind in the Vecchio home.
Notes: Some post-VS angst. Thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
leda_speaks for a lovely quick beta.
Broken Fragments
Ray wandered through the house. Fraser had quite literally torn the place apart. As he walked through the hallways and rooms strewn with debris he noted the objects that had been broken in Fraser’s haste to find the key. Ray was at a loss as to where to start.
The carnage enveloped every room, every space in the Vecchio home, like the darkness that had infested Victoria, the darkness that had driven Benny to this wanton destruction of property. Ray saw the vase his mother had brought back from her last visit to her sister in the sitting room. It was broken into three jagged pieces.
His mother had never liked the vase. She’d spent hours complaining about how her sister had no taste and how such a thing might fit into her home but not in the home his mother proudly kept. It was a hideous thing, gaudy colours and it was heavy. It was hideous thing, absurdly heavy and patterned with gaudy colours. But it had been a gift from her sister and that was why it had been out in the open; well, it was shoved in the darkest corner in the sitting room but it was still displayed, however resentfully.
As he wandered into the hallway he saw the few shards of a mirror. Seven bad years luck. Well, poor Fraser had had that, and more. Ray bent down to pick up the pieces, a little thing in the vast cleanup but he had to start somewhere. As he picked up the largest piece he caught sight of his face in it. It was a face etched with misery, pain and the exhaustion of spending all night at the hospital praying he hadn’t killed his best friend. It was a face Ray wasn’t familiar with, one he could barely look at. He placed the piece of mirror back onto the floor. He wasn’t ready to deal with any of it yet, neither the mirror nor his reflection.
He walked up the stairs barely noticing the various ornaments that had been thrown carelessly down the stairs. His feet found their path and he focussed on climbing the stairs. He reached the top and he immediately saw a pillow in front of him. He bent down and squeezed the edge with his hand. It reminded him of hugging his pillow as a child after one of his father’s outbursts. The echo of those times was with him more than ever as he walked into his bedroom.
He was touched by the observation that, although most things still lay on the floor, there was one object that been carefully placed back, a photograph of him and Fraser. Ray didn’t know if Fraser had put it back deliberately or just missed it, assuming the key wouldn’t be there. Whatever the reason, the fact that it was still standing gave Ray hope for their friendship. If it had survived maybe they could, too.
Across the hall Francesca’s room was in a far worse state. Her jewellery, big, bold and brassy like Francesca herself, was strewn all over the carpet. Ray lifted up the sheet and revealed more dropping from the folds of the cloth, as if a goldmine had been concealed. Ray noticed that one of the more delicate of Francesca’s bracelets was broken. He picked it up and examined the torn links of gold. He resolved to get it repaired or replaced. He remembered it had been a gift from Maria for Francesca’s twenty first birthday. Ray knew that if Francesca knew the truth about what went on she’d be as fragile as that old bracelet, and snap just as easily. He slipped it into his pocket and continued to wander.
Maria and Tony’s room was a mess. Here it was mostly clothes that had been thrown about. Ray had to admit Tony had never been one for taking care of his clothes to begin with. Maria would complain about the ironing and the fact Tony never put his clothes away regularly. He found their wedding photo under one of Tony’s sweaters and placed it back on the dressing table. It was one of his favourite photographs of his sister. She’d looked so young, so happy and Tony had scrubbed up well too.
Ray wondered what had Fraser felt, if anything, as he went through the possessions of the Vecchio family home. Obviously the objects didn’t mean that much to him. He wouldn’t know the history behind the small soap dish in the bathroom that his niece had bought as a birthday present for her grandmother. Nor would he know that the hardened lump of clay that had been on Ray’s mother’s bedside table was one of the first things Ray’s nephew had ever made.
It was those objects, the small ones, that Ray concentrated on finding, picking up and putting back. Some were broken and Ray could barely stop the tears at the sight of his mother’s room in such disarray. This was the one place in the house that had always been safe, had been a sanctuary amid the chaos of the Vecchio home. He picked up the embroidered pillows that his sisters and cousins had made many years ago and put them on the bed. The mattress was half pulled off and the sheets were on the other side of the room but the pillows had to be there, Ray just knew.
Once he had satisfied himself with the upstairs he moved back downstairs. He picked up the odd chair up and straightened it. He found a book here and there and put it back on the shelf. His actions hardly made a difference but it was enough. It was enough for now. There was a pain in his heart for Fraser. He walked past the pool table and sighed at the hopes and dreams that it had represented. Of a night with Fraser, of telling Fraser he loved him. Dreams that were now as broken as the pool cue that lay under the table.
He went into the kitchen and saw the backdoor kicked in. The cop in him whispered that he should board it up, nail it up to stop intruders. Ray awkwardly moved it back into position. As he was doing so he heard the crunch of glass under his feet. He looked down and saw the sorry remains of a snow globe.
He vaguely recalled Fraser mentioning a snow globe. That was where the key was hidden, or something. Ray picked up the remains of the base and hissed in pain as he cut his finger on part of the glass that remained, scarlet blood seeping out. He felt dizzy and nauseous and ran his finger under the cold tap. The bleeding slowed and stopped, his finger was numb.
He took another look at the snow globe. He was so angry he wanted to pick it up and throw it, but he couldn’t. That broken snow globe gave him hope. After-all, the reason Fraser had torn the house apart was to help him, to save him. That smashed snow globe had sabotaged Victoria’s attempt to hurt Ray, to destroy him. And yet through his breaking of the glass to get the key, Fraser had protected Ray.
Even in the heat, or panic, and anger, and who knew what at Victoria, Fraser had thought of Ray. Fraser had thought of him enough to throw politeness out of the window and do what he had to do to stop the IA guys from arresting and incarcerating Ray.
Staring at the broken snow globe Ray realised that Benny cared about him. He might even love him. Staring at the broken snow globe Ray felt his own broken heart begin to heal. He picked up the remains of the foiled hiding place of the instrument of doom and went to get a hammer and nails to fix the back door.
Author: Aingeal
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio (kinda unrequited)
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1325
Summary: After the events at the end of Victoria's Secret Ray takes in the devastation Fraser left behind in the Vecchio home.
Notes: Some post-VS angst. Thank you to
leda_speaks for a lovely quick beta. Broken Fragments
Ray wandered through the house. Fraser had quite literally torn the place apart. As he walked through the hallways and rooms strewn with debris he noted the objects that had been broken in Fraser’s haste to find the key. Ray was at a loss as to where to start.
The carnage enveloped every room, every space in the Vecchio home, like the darkness that had infested Victoria, the darkness that had driven Benny to this wanton destruction of property. Ray saw the vase his mother had brought back from her last visit to her sister in the sitting room. It was broken into three jagged pieces.
His mother had never liked the vase. She’d spent hours complaining about how her sister had no taste and how such a thing might fit into her home but not in the home his mother proudly kept. It was a hideous thing, gaudy colours and it was heavy. It was hideous thing, absurdly heavy and patterned with gaudy colours. But it had been a gift from her sister and that was why it had been out in the open; well, it was shoved in the darkest corner in the sitting room but it was still displayed, however resentfully.
As he wandered into the hallway he saw the few shards of a mirror. Seven bad years luck. Well, poor Fraser had had that, and more. Ray bent down to pick up the pieces, a little thing in the vast cleanup but he had to start somewhere. As he picked up the largest piece he caught sight of his face in it. It was a face etched with misery, pain and the exhaustion of spending all night at the hospital praying he hadn’t killed his best friend. It was a face Ray wasn’t familiar with, one he could barely look at. He placed the piece of mirror back onto the floor. He wasn’t ready to deal with any of it yet, neither the mirror nor his reflection.
He walked up the stairs barely noticing the various ornaments that had been thrown carelessly down the stairs. His feet found their path and he focussed on climbing the stairs. He reached the top and he immediately saw a pillow in front of him. He bent down and squeezed the edge with his hand. It reminded him of hugging his pillow as a child after one of his father’s outbursts. The echo of those times was with him more than ever as he walked into his bedroom.
He was touched by the observation that, although most things still lay on the floor, there was one object that been carefully placed back, a photograph of him and Fraser. Ray didn’t know if Fraser had put it back deliberately or just missed it, assuming the key wouldn’t be there. Whatever the reason, the fact that it was still standing gave Ray hope for their friendship. If it had survived maybe they could, too.
Across the hall Francesca’s room was in a far worse state. Her jewellery, big, bold and brassy like Francesca herself, was strewn all over the carpet. Ray lifted up the sheet and revealed more dropping from the folds of the cloth, as if a goldmine had been concealed. Ray noticed that one of the more delicate of Francesca’s bracelets was broken. He picked it up and examined the torn links of gold. He resolved to get it repaired or replaced. He remembered it had been a gift from Maria for Francesca’s twenty first birthday. Ray knew that if Francesca knew the truth about what went on she’d be as fragile as that old bracelet, and snap just as easily. He slipped it into his pocket and continued to wander.
Maria and Tony’s room was a mess. Here it was mostly clothes that had been thrown about. Ray had to admit Tony had never been one for taking care of his clothes to begin with. Maria would complain about the ironing and the fact Tony never put his clothes away regularly. He found their wedding photo under one of Tony’s sweaters and placed it back on the dressing table. It was one of his favourite photographs of his sister. She’d looked so young, so happy and Tony had scrubbed up well too.
Ray wondered what had Fraser felt, if anything, as he went through the possessions of the Vecchio family home. Obviously the objects didn’t mean that much to him. He wouldn’t know the history behind the small soap dish in the bathroom that his niece had bought as a birthday present for her grandmother. Nor would he know that the hardened lump of clay that had been on Ray’s mother’s bedside table was one of the first things Ray’s nephew had ever made.
It was those objects, the small ones, that Ray concentrated on finding, picking up and putting back. Some were broken and Ray could barely stop the tears at the sight of his mother’s room in such disarray. This was the one place in the house that had always been safe, had been a sanctuary amid the chaos of the Vecchio home. He picked up the embroidered pillows that his sisters and cousins had made many years ago and put them on the bed. The mattress was half pulled off and the sheets were on the other side of the room but the pillows had to be there, Ray just knew.
Once he had satisfied himself with the upstairs he moved back downstairs. He picked up the odd chair up and straightened it. He found a book here and there and put it back on the shelf. His actions hardly made a difference but it was enough. It was enough for now. There was a pain in his heart for Fraser. He walked past the pool table and sighed at the hopes and dreams that it had represented. Of a night with Fraser, of telling Fraser he loved him. Dreams that were now as broken as the pool cue that lay under the table.
He went into the kitchen and saw the backdoor kicked in. The cop in him whispered that he should board it up, nail it up to stop intruders. Ray awkwardly moved it back into position. As he was doing so he heard the crunch of glass under his feet. He looked down and saw the sorry remains of a snow globe.
He vaguely recalled Fraser mentioning a snow globe. That was where the key was hidden, or something. Ray picked up the remains of the base and hissed in pain as he cut his finger on part of the glass that remained, scarlet blood seeping out. He felt dizzy and nauseous and ran his finger under the cold tap. The bleeding slowed and stopped, his finger was numb.
He took another look at the snow globe. He was so angry he wanted to pick it up and throw it, but he couldn’t. That broken snow globe gave him hope. After-all, the reason Fraser had torn the house apart was to help him, to save him. That smashed snow globe had sabotaged Victoria’s attempt to hurt Ray, to destroy him. And yet through his breaking of the glass to get the key, Fraser had protected Ray.
Even in the heat, or panic, and anger, and who knew what at Victoria, Fraser had thought of Ray. Fraser had thought of him enough to throw politeness out of the window and do what he had to do to stop the IA guys from arresting and incarcerating Ray.
Staring at the broken snow globe Ray realised that Benny cared about him. He might even love him. Staring at the broken snow globe Ray felt his own broken heart begin to heal. He picked up the remains of the foiled hiding place of the instrument of doom and went to get a hammer and nails to fix the back door.
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no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 12:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 05:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 12:42 pm (UTC)Beautifully described, both the destruction and how Ray was feeling. And I love how you put in his anger too.
This worked so well.
Poor Ray. Porr Benny.
*Sniff*
I see why 'Storm' came to mind for this one. *See dragon story for discussion*
We have used 'Thunder' for 'Doubts Of All Things Earthly'.
How about 'Snow' that's left. And after all the snow globe was pivotal really.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 07:14 pm (UTC)I'm glad all of that came across.
And poror Ray & Benny.
I realised when I posted that I thought - wait we've used thunder. D'oh!
I say snow is perfect.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-28 10:30 am (UTC)I haven't read as avidly as you in dS, but I can't recall off hand another story that deals with Ray going back to his house and finding the mess Benny made, and his anger. And he would be angry, it's only natural. You can love someone and still be angry with them.
*Toddles off to move 'Snow' to used part of table*
no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 11:29 am (UTC)I don't remember reading one like this before, so I wrote it ;-) I think it would have been a mixture of anger and shock. Because Ray had every right to be angry at Benny.
Excellent.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 11:39 am (UTC)Indeed, he would have been both angry and shocked and as you say he did indeed have every right to be furious with Benny.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 11:51 am (UTC)Yes he would havve been indeed.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 12:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 04:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 07:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-27 10:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-28 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-28 07:40 pm (UTC)Thank you.
I love the poor guys SO MUCH.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 11:30 am (UTC)Thank you.
They really did suffer in that episode. Poor boys.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 11:31 am (UTC)I like hopeful endings ;-)
Thanks for commenting again.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 05:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-03 11:32 am (UTC)