Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ray awoke with a start, eyes meeting a dark room he didn't recognise and immediately noticed the back of his head throbbing sharply.
Straight away his brain (though foggy) started working. Where was he? Had he been kidnapped? What had happened the night before? When he found he couldn't remember, his attention turned to his location.
He realised that he was remarkably comfy, probably due to the fact that he had a mattress on a wooden floor that had been generously decked out with assorted pillows and blankets, that he needed to get himself one of the heavy duvet he was wrapped up in, and for certain that this definitely wasn't his bed.

Whilst a strong part of him was begging to stay cocooned here until the unknown pain in his skull had receded, Ray was only slightly freaking out about the fact he had no idea where he was. He would've been more concerned, but his mind still felt too foggy to bother.

Despite this, he managed to roll over with enormous effort to face away from the wall he'd opened his eyes to.
Looking at the rest of the room, he supposed it was actually more of an office than anything else.

The desk a few feet away from his face and filing cabinets in the corner gave that one away.

But why the hell was he in an office of all places? He didn't remember a thing about getting there, nor did he remember why he felt like he'd been hit with a car.

He slowly removed his arms from underneath the duvet to feel where the pain in his head was coming from. He hissed as he took his fingers away from the small lump on his skull, but looking at them, there was no blood. He felt around the area quickly and realised the injury had a dressing taped to it. What the hell?

The mixture of slight fear and confusion must've kick-started his brain into working properly. His breathing quickened as he jumped to conclusions about where he was. Had he really been kidnapped? Surely that made sense. His injury, the unknown place, no memory of what had happened beforehand.

His eyes scanned the small room for exits he saw a door which was most likely a cupboard, another door which no doubt entered the main building and looked up to see a closed blind with hints of light shining through the slats.
How big was that window? Could he get out of it? Would it be justifiable to bring the duvet?

He paused. Why would a kidnapper spend the good time making him one of the most comfy places he'd ever slept and not just throw him in a dark cellar, stenched with damp where the rats would eat him alive? Hell, he didn't think he knew anyone that wasn't a kidnapper that would spend the time to do that and not just chuck him on a sofa and have it done with, apart from-

Before he could think any further, his head turned up to a sound coming from outside the office. It was a voice, one he recognised. A Canadian accent that was so far from home in Chicago it was unmistakably that goddamn Mountie's, and did he have some explaining to do.

He raised as quickly as he could whilst trying to minimise the throbbing of his head and (regrettably) left his bed to exit the office which, now he thought about it, was obviously Fraser's. Looking down at his clothes (which weren't his clothes at all) he'd been dressed in a white t-shirt and grey joggers. He could feel the irritation rising as he questioned what kind of shit had been pulled this time as well as the pain intensifying as he stood up, it felt like he'd been hit in the back of his skull with a brick.

"Fraser!" He yelled, flinging the door open.
Light flooded through and Ray squinted slightly as his eyes adjusted. He turned to see Fraser and Turnbull in conversation at the desk before the staircase.

Fraser turned around swiftly, a little surprised before seeing the look on Ray's face, and Ray could see him mutter at Turnbull to give them a minute.

"Ray!" Fraser said, striding over. "I'm very glad to see you're up and about." He sounded weirdly relieved.
"What the hell am I doing in your office? Where is my bed?" Ray demanded angrily.
"Ah well you see you…" Fraser faltered. "Ray, forgive me but you sound a little angry."

Boy, could Ray not believe this guy. "No shit Sherlock, I feel like I've been hit in the head with a fucking brick." He muttered, touching the back of his head and wincing.
"Ah, well, not quite Ray, it was actually a piece of metal pole." Fraser stated.
"What?! You hit me in the head with a metal pole?!"
"No of course not!" The Mountie replied, before pausing. "You really don't remember?"
"No! I don't know how I ended up here in the first place."

"Ah, I see. Well that makes a little more sense. Though maybe you need to go back to the hospital…" Fraser replied, more to himself at the end of the sentence as moved over to presumably check Ray's head, before Ray smacked his hands away.
"What? Hospital? I'm fine Fraser, I just need to go back to bed, after you tell me what happened."

Whilst his friend was good at hiding it, Ray had known him long enough now to know when Fraser was worried, and right now his eyes had filled with concern.
"Don't look at me like that Fraser, I really am okay."
"Look at you like what?" He asked, surprised.
"Like those baby blues filled with worry look, I mean it."
"Oh, sorry? I didn't realise it offended you, I didn't even know I was doing it so-"
"Fraser." Ray pinched the bridge of his nose, interrupting through gritted teeth. "If you don't tell me what happened within the next 15 seconds I'm not going to be the only one with a head injury."

"Okay okay, allow me to explain." Fraser began, holding up his hands. "You and I were pursuing the suspect, we got caught in an alleyway and he'd managed to shake us somehow, but we knew he had to be nearby."

Ah yes, that was it. They'd been chasing down Rudy Heinrich, a man wanted on suspicion of arson which has resulted in the death of 3 people on 5 separate occasions. He was a madman, formerly a sleazy criminal. After Fraser's flat and Ray Vecchio's house had been burned down because of a crazed fire starter, the two had both felt that it was important no one else should have to suffer the same type of loss.

"Before we had time to locate him, he'd snuck up behind you, you pulled out your gun but he hit you round the head with the pipe and scarpered."
Ray stared at him, vaguely recalling what Fraser was saying, he could remember the perp well enough, but the chasing down of said perp was a little more hazy.
"Didn't you chase after him?" He demanded. They'd been at this for weeks, and Ray had a sense of unexplainable guilt after Vecchio's house had burnt down and the poor guy knew nothing about it. The other thing was that he knew that Fraser was just as passionate about solving this case as he was.
"Well… no Ray, I didn't."
Ray looked at him in surprise. "What?! Why not??"
"Forgive me if I was too preoccupied with seeing if you were dead or not, but I do think that-"
"Well I wouldn't have died Fraser, it wasn't that bad." Ray scoffed.
"Ray. You were hit around the head with an extremely heavy object and immediately crumpled to the ground! You absolutely could've been dead and surprisingly I much prefer you standing, you were lucky he wasn't a very good hit." Fraser explained, a little impatiently.
"Feels like it was a good hit." He muttered before continuing, "Yeah, I think I remember actually."
"You do?"
"Yeah, yeah just give me a moment to focus here."

And it all came flooding back…

"Ray!" He heard a cry as he opened his eyes. Laying down on hard gravel but his top half was being propped up on someone's knees, being partially cradled in what he could only assume was the same person's arms.
"Whaddyawant?" He murmured, reaching to touch the back of his head where the pain was splitting his skull. He fingers came back with something red and sticky on them.
Hm.
That was probably not a good sign.

"Ray!" Someone was slapping his cheek gently.
He looked up, eyes finding the face of the mounty staring back at him, more concerned than he'd ever seen that face look.
Fraser.
Benton Fraser.
It was okay now at least. Everything was going to be okay. Fraser always protected him, he'd know what to do.

"Fraser my head." He whimpered helplessly, waving his fingers that were glossed with red in front of the Mounty's face.
"I know, I know. It looks very sore." Fraser replied sympathetically, though seemed preoccupied with looking at the wound on the back of Ray's skull, whilst still holding him upright.
"It hurts!" Ray cried.
"I can imagine it would do Ray, now look at me." Fraser said, holding Ray's face by the cheeks with both of his hands and positioning it to peer at Ray's eyes, his own blue ones filled with concern.
"I think if I sleep it might pass, you know?" Ray murmured, eyes drooping closed.
"No, no, that is the last thing you should do. From what I can tell you've suffered a concussion, and you've got to stay awake at least until the hospital checks you out, okay?"
"For fucks sake I'm fine you big concerned baby." Ray tried to roll his eyes before attempting to lift himself off the floor and falling into Fraser's shoulder.
"For goodness sake, you can't just try to stand up after someone's put a hole in your head." Fraser said with exasperation, catching Ray swiftly as his attempt to get up failed him.

"Ray?"
No answer.
"Ray!"
"That's my name, don't wear it out." Ray replied quietly, face pressed against the coarse fabric covering Fraser's shoulder.
"I'm taking you to the ER." Fraser said, and before Ray could protest he stood up with an arm supporting round Ray's waist, steadying with walking him to the car.
"Why are you being so dramatic Frase? T'is just a scratch."
Fraser just rolled his eyes and chose not to reply.

Wow. So he'd been properly whacked, Heinrich was a bastard that was for sure, but Ray felt an odd surge of warmth for the man stood in front of him, knowing how he'd rushed to his side and checked out his injuries without losing his cool. Secretly Ray knew if it had been the other way around he would've definitely been freaking out.

"So you remembered alright then?"
"Oh, yeah yeah I got it. I got whacked, you came over and handled it cool as a cucumber then we toddled off to the ER where they gave me painkillers and told me to go home." He said as if it were no big deal.
Fraser looked relieved, no brain damage was always a plus side.
"But honestly I'm surprised Fraser!" Ray joked. "Like, thanks for saving my life and stuff y'know, but at the same time I mean, what happened to 'getting our man'? I felt sure you would've carried on in the name of duty."
"Well, I erm, it was a difficult decision. One which no doubt Inspector Thatcher will quiz me about at some point today." He tried to laugh, but this wasn't the whole truth.

The way Ray had related the events so casually back to him really did not put into perspective how he'd felt in the said moment...