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The first unusual thing Ray noticed was that the door to Fraser's room was closed. What with the wolf going in and out, and Ray on wheels for now, Fraser usually left it sitting wide open, even when he slept. He didn't even close it for PT, which Ray privately thought was nuts given how much Jill was clearly into him, but such was life for Benton Fraser. The attention of beautiful women just slid right off him.
Well.
Most beautiful women, anyway.
Lost in thought, Ray barely had time to jerk his hand back from where he'd been reaching for the door when it flew open, banging against the wheel of his chair. The man who stormed out of Fraser’s room was a stranger, blond and expensively dressed but not especially tall. When he paused and turned to see what he'd hit with the door, he gave Ray a look like you'd give a cockroach right before it died under your shoe, and there was something both alien and horribly familiar about those gray-blue eyes. Without a word of apology to Ray, the man looked back into the room and jerked his chin, like he wanted Fraser to follow, and when Fraser didn't move, the man actually full-on snarled before turning on his heel again and stalking off.
Ray watched him go, confused as hell by the interaction but impressed by the flow of his trenchcoat. Burberry, Ray was pretty sure. Crisp and spotless.
“Are you all right?” Fraser asked, and Ray turned his attention back to awkwardly maneuvering himself into his friend's room. He didn't quite have the hang of the thing yet, and God willing he'd be out of it before he had the chance, but he did manage to get himself over to where Fraser sat cross-legged on his bed without major incident.
“Yeah, he just hit the chair. Who was that guy, lawyer or something?” Ray heard a lupine grumble and finally spotted Diefenbaker, standing on the far side of Fraser’s bed with his chin resting next to Fraser's knee.
“No,” Fraser said. Dief yipped. “Well, yes, he is, but more pertinently he’s my uncle.” Ray’s eyebrows climbed up to where his hairline used to be.
“Your uncle? I thought you didn't have any family.” Dief grumbled again, for some reason, and Fraser patted his head blindly. Now that Ray thought about it, yeah, the guy did have Fraser's eyes, and there was something about his nose that had also looked damn familiar.
“I'm afraid we're not close. My mother was… Estranged… From her side of the family, and I only reconnected with them myself relatively recently,” Fraser explained with his typical vagueness regarding the subject of Fraser. The idea of having relatives you hardly ever saw was so alien Ray had a hard time wrapping his head around it completely. It sounded nice, kinda, and lonely, a lot. Like everything about Fraser.
“Nice he came to visit you at least,” Ray tried, and somehow both Fraser and the wolf cringed simultaneously.
“I suppose,” Fraser hedged, polite as always, but Dief outright growled.
“I appreciate you standing up for me, but it really was my fault,” Fraser directed toward Dief, and Ray almost thought he saw the wolf roll his eyes.
“What was?” Ray asked, half-expecting evasion.
“The, ah, situation with Victoria. All of it. And now…” Fraser trailed off, looking out the window. Dief grumbled. Ray looked between them, but only the wolf was willing to meet his eyes and he wasn't talking.
“Is that what he was mad about?” Ray prompted. Dief huffed. It seemed to take Fraser a little too long to realize that didn't count as an answer to Ray's question.
“Yes,” Fraser answered simply. When he turned back to Ray, there was a depth of pain in his eyes Ray didn't know how to deal with. He looked just like he had those early weeks, when it wasn't clear if Dief would live or if Benny would ever walk again. Like the heart had been torn right out of him.
Ray reached out without thinking and gripped Fraser's knee, squeezing tightly. Fraser looked down at his hand in surprise, like he hadn't expected Ray would be able to touch him. His hand was warm where it slid hesitantly over Ray's. Fraser was always warm.
“She's not going to be able to hide from them,” Fraser murmured, looking down at their hands instead of at Ray's face.
“Good,” Ray said emphatically. “I wouldn't wish a pack of lawyers on most people, but I'd say that’s better than she deserves.” Fraser laughed, a brief and unhappy bark of a noise.
“A pack of lawyers,” he repeated bleakly. “Yes, I suppose they are.” Ray didn't know what to make of that. Fraser didn't move his hand, curled tightly around Ray's, so Ray didn't move either.
Fraser didn't seem much for company, so Ray rolled back to his own room a little earlier than usual, after halfheartedly watching half a game of staticky baseball. He could still feel Fraser's touch on his hand like a brand as he wheeled himself down the hallway. Ray had been doing his best to think of Fraser as an untouchable and sexless creature in an attempt not to embarrass himself like Frannie did every time she saw the guy, but after Victoria... When Fraser had opened his apartment door in his undershirt and suspenders, and the fug of sex had drifted out like smoke, Ray’s illusions had shattered like glass.
Preoccupied, Ray almost didn't notice there was someone already in his room. It was something other than sight or sound that stopped him on the threshold, something older that raised his hackles and prickled the hair on the back of his neck, something that warned him to turn and run and keep running.
“You shot my nephew,” the man sitting in the hospital room chair said mildly.
“It wasn't him I was aiming for,” Ray snapped back. The man smiled, tight and unfriendly, and his resemblance to an angry Fraser was so strong it gave Ray chills.
“So Benton tells me. I hear you were aiming at the one who shot Diefenbaker.” Ray wheeled the rest of the way into the room and pushed the door shut behind him, frowning at Fraser's uncle. While true, that was nevertheless the weirdest possible way to describe Victoria Metcalf and her crimes.
“That's right,” Ray agreed. “I thought she was holding a gun on him.” He'd said it so often Ray wasn't even sure if he believed it or not. He'd shot at Victoria because he wanted to shoot her. The gun was irrelevant.
“Tell me everything you know about Victoria Metcalf,” Fraser’s uncle ordered. Ray opened his mouth to let the guy know where he could shove his orders.
“Victoria was involved in a bank robbery ten years ago in which a man was shot and killed,” was what fell out of his mouth instead, and the rest came tumbling after like a rock slide. The whole messy story, as much as Ray knew, from Victoria's fingers in Fraser's mouth in the lean-to to Fraser answering the door half-dressed and reeking of sex to Fraser bleeding out and mumbling poetry as Ray's heart cracked in half and crumbled, pleading to God or anyone else who might be listening to save Fraser, please, he'd do anything.
Once it was over, it was like Ray woke up from a mortifying dream. The man in the chair was watching him impassively. If anything Ray had said affected him, he didn't show it, not even the finger thing.
“You care for Benton and Diefenbaker.” It wasn't a question, but Ray nodded. “Good. They need protecting, evidently, and if they won't accept mine I suppose yours will have to do.” There was a tension in how he was holding himself, now that Ray was not quite as entranced, his hands tight on the armrests of the chair.
“You a Canadian fed or something?” Ray asked, trying to find the missing pieces of the puzzle. The man raised an elegant eyebrow at him.
“Yes,” the man said shortly, surprising Ray with his bluntness. “Why?”
“Fraser seems to think you're gonna personally hunt her down,” Ray said, and the man responded with a sudden grin of shocking brightness and ferocity.
“That's correct,” the man agreed. “We are. I invited Benton and Diefenbaker to join us, but Benton refused, and Diefenbaker won't leave him.” A pack of lawyers, Fraser had echoed. Ray knew some cutthroat lawyers, but Fraser’s uncle seemed like something else altogether. His teeth were as sharp as the pleats of his slacks.
“You're not gonna send her to jail, are you.” It wasn't a question. The man regarded him for a long moment, and then slowly shook his head.
“We are not.” Ray swallowed.
“You're gonna kill her.” That was why Benny had seemed so despondent, Ray was sure of it. The only question was why Fraser hadn't tried to stop his uncle, hadn't told Ray. Did he think Ray wouldn't stop a murder just because the victim was a shitty person? Did he think Ray wanted Victoria Metcalf dead enough that he'd ignore a threat like that?
How had he known?
“You cannot stop us,” the man said, rising to his feet. “Furthermore, I don't believe you want to. We both know Benton will be safer with her dead.”
Ray knew.
“You're gonna break his heart,” Ray protested, the best he could come up with in that demon woman’s defense. No wonder Fraser had been down enough to let Ray hold onto him. There was something about Fraser's uncle that terrified Ray on a deeper level than he could explain, an instinct like the primate fear of fire. The woman was dead already, or as good as.
“He’ll get over it,” the man declared with a deadly finality, and swept out of the room in a dramatic swirl of khaki gabardine. Definitely Burberry.
After how weird the previous day had been, Ray had sort of expected not to see Fraser, but to his surprise Ray had barely gotten dressed for the day (or as much as he could be in the hospital) when he heard a knock on the door. Fraser and Diefenbaker slipped in at Ray's invitation, though both froze in the doorway.
“Bennett came to talk to you,” Fraser said after a moment, frowning at the chair in the corner of Ray's room. Fraser’s uncle, presumably. Bennett Fraser or Bennett Pinsent? He hadn't looked much like the pictures Ray had seen of Robert Fraser, so Ray would be willing to bet on Pinsent.
“Yeah,” Ray agreed. “Weird guy.”
“What did he tell you?” Fraser asked sharply, his full attention now unwaveringly on Ray. Even Dief was looking at Ray with a focus he usually reserved for meatloaf and pastries.
“About what he told you, I guess,” Ray hedged, and to his surprise Fraser relaxed slightly.
“You discussed his plans, then.” Ray nodded again. “And you're not going to stop him.” Ray couldn't keep up that steady eye contact anymore and dropped his eyes to the floor tiles. No, he hadn't called in the threat, and no, he wasn't going to. Bennett’s revenge on Fraser's behalf felt inevitable, a natural consequence like an avalanche.
It was Dief who closed the distance between them, laying his head on Ray's knee where his legs dangled off the side of the bed. Ray smiled down at him and patted his soft head. The way Bennett had talked about Dief had been weird, Ray reflected. It was the same way Fraser talked about and to him, like Diefenbaker was a member of the family and not a pet.
“I don't think I could,” Ray admitted, only just managing to omit the equally true ‘if I wanted to.’
“You're right,” Fraser agreed somberly, startling Ray into looking up at him again. He'd closed the door behind him and come fully into the room, standing beside his wolf and just out of reach.
“Is he–” Ray started and then stopped, unsure what it was he actually wanted to ask. Part of him wanted to ask if Bennett was human, which was a stupid question.
“He's high up in the Department of Justice,” Fraser answered once it became clear Ray wasn't going to finish his question. “I didn't know he existed until a few years ago, after I…” Fraser hesitated, glancing down at Diefenbaker for some reason. “After I met my cousin.” Dief woofed and looked up at Ray.
“You know Benny’s cousin too, huh?” Ray addressed to the wolf, who grumbled.
“I don't think that's fair, it's a lot to wrap your head around,” Fraser said, apparently to Dief as well. “He didn't say anything about our family?” This he did ask Ray, who shook his head.
“No, he just asked me about… About her. It's funny, I wasn't gonna tell him anything, but it was like…”
“Like you couldn't help but answer his questions,” Fraser finished. “I know. It's fine, there's nothing you could've done.” Fraser's tone raised Ray's hackles, like he expected little of Ray and was unsurprised when Ray didn't surpass those dim expectations.
“I stand up under cross-examination just fine,” Ray protested, stung. “There was something weird about this guy, about the way he looked at me, like I was a dog that had learned to talk and all he had to do was say ‘speak’ to make me start barking.” As if on cue, Dief barked, and Fraser let out a short burst of laughter before he could stop himself.
“I can picture it clearly,” Fraser admitted. “Apologies on behalf of my uncle. He's usually… Well, not kind, but…” Dief barked. “Yes, thank you. He's usually more respectful, it's just that he gets very protective where his immediate family is concerned.” Huh. Ray wouldn't call an uncle immediate family, but maybe when he was all you had, he counted.
“How come he didn't show the other times you got hurt, then?” Ray asked Fraser, who looked down at Diefenbaker, who growled.
“Well…” When he didn't go on, Dief barked again. “He's going to think I've lost it,” Fraser told the wolf.
“I already think you've lost it,” Ray reminded Fraser, smiling. Fraser did look hurt when he glanced up, but when he saw Ray's expression he broke out a small answering smile as well.
“Bennett came because of Diefenbaker,” Fraser said at last. “Because this time I sent a letter to tell him Dief got hurt. Because of me. Again.” Dief whined and pawed at Fraser's leg.
“Why does your uncle care more about your wolf than his nephew?” Ray pressed, when it became clear Fraser thought he was done explaining.
“Well… All right, the truth is… As I've said before, Ray, Diefenbaker is only half wolf.” And then Fraser stopped, like that made anything clearer.
“And? Is his other half your uncle’s favorite dog or something?” Fraser scratched his eyebrow, looking out the window at nothing rather than look at Ray.
“No, Ray. His other half is my uncle.” Fraser let his hand fall to his side and sighed. “Diefenbaker is my cousin.”
Ray stared.
“Your cousin?” Fraser nodded. “As in, the son of your… Mother's brother?” Fraser nodded. “As in, the guy I just met?” Fraser nodded. “That guy fucked a wolf? Mr. Canadian DOJ? And now you have a wolf cousin?” Fraser cringed and Diefenbaker growled.
“In Bennett’s defense, he was in lupine form at the time as well, and I'm told such a liaison isn't terribly unusual.” All at once many things became suddenly, terribly clear, and also completely impossible.
“Fraser, I'm gonna need you to be straight with me. Is this some kind of New Agey metaphor, or are you trying to tell me that your uncle is a werewolf?” Fraser met his eyes.
“My uncle Bennett is a werewolf,” Fraser said, twice as serious as the average heart attack. “My cousin Diefenbaker is half wolf, and half werewolf. And I…”
“You're also half werewolf,” Ray realized. Actually this made sense. Ray was a little scared of how much sense it made, apart from being completely insane. But Fraser was nodding like he'd just said something normal and not something completely batshit.
And…
And there was Fraser's obvious and otherwise inexplicable connection to Diefenbaker. And there was Fraser's bizarre sense of smell. And there was the way his uncle’s mere presence made the hair on the back of Ray's neck stand on end, the way he had been able to get Ray talking about things he could have sworn he would never have said out loud to another person just by looking at him with those cold, predator eyes. The same eyes as Fraser, who wore them warmly instead.
“I don't change shape. Neither of us does,” Fraser added, gesturing to Diefenbaker. “We just carry the genes, and don't quite fit in on either side.” Dief whined again, and when Fraser leaned over to ruffle his ears, Ray had such a strong mental image of leaning over to mess with a baby cousin’s hair that it left him reeling.
Shit, Dief really was his cousin.
“Wait,” Ray said suddenly, “that guy Diefenbaker bit…” but Fraser was already shaking his head.
“It's genetic. And even then, not reliably expressed. Hence Dief and me. And my mother.” Ray sat back on his hands, looking at the two of them. Dief cocked his head and stared back, while Fraser merely watched.
“My partner is a werewolf,” Ray tried out, and watched a smile break over Fraser’s face like the dawn.
Diefenbaker barked.
“Oh, sorry,” Ray said. “My partner and his partner are werewolves.” Dief’s tail thumped the floor audibly. “You really speak English, huh?” Dief made an unamused growling noise.
“Diefenbaker understands English, given his hearing limitations, but would like to clarify that he lacks the anatomy to pronounce it or any other human language,” Fraser translated, apparently. Ray grinned.
“And you really do speak wolf.” Fraser see-sawed his hand back and forth.
“It's not really ‘wolf,’ no, and much like Dief and English, I can't really speak it, per se, but…” Fraser looked at Dief, who barked once. “Yes. I speak wolf.”
“Huh,” said Ray, and went to sit up from his lean, but the movement tugged at the wound in his back unexpectedly. Before he could so much as flinch, Fraser’s arms were around him, taking his weight. Ray let his head fall on Benny's shoulder and breathed him in, hospital soap and sweat. It was nice. Better than nice. Benny was sniffing him too, but Ray hardly thought he was in a position to object even if he wanted to, so he held on instead.
“While we're on the subject of the supernatural,” Fraser began hesitantly, “I think you ought to know that I've been seeing the ghost of my father.”
Ray frowned.
“You too?”