Work Text:
Holiday: Fraser’s Birthday
by Grey
April 30th in Chicago
″Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick.″
Fraser calmly took off his hat and hung it up as Ray closed the door behind him. ″I took a walk.″
″A walk?″
″Yes, I took Diefenbaker to the park and then walked home from there.″ Fraser proceeded to take off his tunic while Dief curled up in his comfy chair.
Pissed and still wound up, Ray complained. ″But it’s Thursday. You’re always home from the Consulate by 5:30 on the dot. It’s nearly seven. What the hell, Fraser? It doesn’t take that long to walk the wolf and get home. What’s going on?″
His partner turned and touched his arm gently. ″I’m sorry, Ray. I didn’t think. I should’ve called.″
All the fear that’d been raging through his system for the last hour, all the Mountie dead in a ditch scenarios running through Ray’s head settled slowly. Something was wrong, something seriously not right. Fraser hadn’t given him his happy to be home again kiss. Ray reached out and caressed Fraser’s cheek, his voice less angry and more concerned. ″I was worried.″
″I’m sorry. I just got distracted.″
″Yeah?″
″Yes.″
Ray frowned, thinking of all the times that Fraser got distracted, which he could count on one hand, one finger even. ″Did something happen at work?″
Instead of answering, Fraser leaned in and finally gave Ray his kiss, but there was no heat, none of the usual energy. Fraser pulled away first and said, ″I’m tired. I need to clean up.″
″Sure, okay.″
As Fraser walked out of the room, Ray knew something was off. His partner hadn’t even mentioned the birthday cake Ray had waiting on the kitchen table, candles and all.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
By the time Fraser returned wearing a white tee shirt and jeans, Ray had blown out the candles and had hot tea ready. Fraser took the offered cup and stood in front of the table just staring. ″What’s that?″
″What’s it look like?″
″It looks like a birthday cake.″
″You really are a detective. Happy birthday, Fraser.″
Instead of smiling, Fraser turned away and sat down on the sofa. ″I appreciate the gesture, Ray, but I don’t celebrate my birthday.″
″I’m just figuring that out. Explains why nobody at the station had a clue what day it was. I had to call Turnbull and ask him to check your file. He didn’t know, either.″
″Ah, that explains his behavior.″
″How’s that?″
″Constable Turnbull hasn’t quite mastered the art of subterfuge. I found him rooting through personnel files earlier in the week. He gave me a birthday card this afternoon. I didn’t realize he’d given the date to you as well.″
Ray shook his head in frustration as he sat down beside his partner. Something wasn’t adding up. ″How is it that you’re all about celebrating other people’s birthdays, but not your own? I mean, you made a big deal about giving me the dream catcher with the eagle feather and throwing a party for Vecchio. You bought flowers for Frannie and sent candy to Ma Vecchio. Hell, you even gave cigars to Welsh.″
″I don’t understand your point.″
″Don’t give me that. You know what I’m saying here, Fraser. You do all this great stuff for other people, but you keep your day a secret and don’t even want to celebrate it. What’s with that?″
Fraser put his tea mug down on the coffee table and leaned forward, his hands clasped together, his elbows on his knees. ″I haven’t celebrated my birthday since I was six.″
Ray went cold all over. ″Six?″
″Yes.″
Fuck. Please, god, don’t let it be the reason Ray was thinking it might be. Ray called on all his strength to keep his voice steady. ″Tell me about it.″
″Ray...″
″Fraser, I love you.″ Ray placed his hand on Fraser’s arm and squeezed gently. ″Tell me about what happened on your birthday when you were six.″
″My mother baked a cake, vanilla with buttercream icing, my favorite. The whole cabin smelled like cake. She’d made me a new red flannel shirt, bought me my own tool set and two guidebooks about local trees and insects. She wrapped them in brown wrapping paper that she decorated with drawings of deer and beavers, foxes and eagles. They were tied with ribbons she’d made from strips from a blue dress that she’d used for scraps.″
″That sounds nice. So, what happened?″
″She’d sent me out to gather some pine cones. I assume she was really just trying to keep me occupied until we ate and I’d be able to have cake. I wasn’t far from the cabin when I heard her call my name to come back inside. But I stumbled and dropped all the cones. I hurried to collect them but then I heard the shots.″
Ray’s hand tightened on Fraser’s arm as he prompted. He needed all of it, had to have the awful whole picture of the worst moment of his partner’s life. ″What happened next?″
Fraser’s voice stayed even, didn’t waver as he recounted his story. ″I dropped everything and ran back to the cabin. I saw a jeep driving away and my mother lying on the front porch. She didn’t move and there was blood, so much of it. Right inside the door, I saw the cake with six candles burning.″ Fraser voice changed, got choked. ″I remember thinking that if I could only get inside fast enough to blow out the candles, I could wish that my mother was still breathing. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t let go of my mother’s body so I could make my wish before the candles went out. My mother was dead, Ray.″
″Jesus, Fraser, I’m so sorry.″
Turning toward Ray, Fraser lifted his head, a tear running down his cheek. ″I’ve not celebrated my birthday since that day.″
Reaching out, Ray pulled Fraser into a hug. Then he just held him as his partner trembled and wept in his arms.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
″You feel better?″
″Some.″
Ray handed him a fresh cup of hot tea before he settled on the sofa beside him. ″I appreciate you telling me what happened.″
Fraser sipped the tea before he finally spoke quietly. ″I’ve never told that story to anyone else.″
″I’m honored that you trust me with it.″
″I love you, Ray. There’s nothing about me or my life that I won’t tell you.″
″Thanks. Same to you.″
Fraser finished the tea and then took a deep breath. ″It feels strange.″
″What does?″
″Telling that story now after all these years.″
″I’ll bet. You’ve been carrying it around a long time.″
″Yes, yes, I have. I never even told my father what happened.″
″And he never asked?″
″No. I think he was afraid to.″
″Afraid? Why?″
″My father was profoundly impacted by my mother’s death, far more than I ever realized. After his murder, I read his journals and discovered the truth of a man I never really knew when he was alive. Growing up, I always resented the fact that he left me with my grandparents. In my mind, I connected the two events, my mother’s death and my father’s leaving and thought I was to blame. It’s taken years to understand that my father simply couldn’t handle the fact that he was an officer of the law but didn’t protect the one person he loved the most.″
″So all this stuff about your parents, is that what you were thinking about earlier today, why you were late coming home?″
″It was. I’m sorry about that, Ray. I was just so preoccupied, I lost track of time.″
Ray reached over and took Fraser’s hand. ″It’s okay. I wish I’d known before, but it doesn’t matter. I know now.″
″I appreciate your understanding.″
″The thing is, I was kind of hoping I could help you change your thinking about this no celebrating your birthday deal.″
″How so?″
″Well, your mum loved you, right?″
″Of course.″
″And she celebrated it, wanted you to be happy. I think your mum would want you to celebrate your special day in memory of her and her love.″
Fraser stared at him way too long and remained quiet. Ray hoped to hell he hadn’t overstepped and got it all wrong. Maybe it was too soon for his partner to switch gears or change his perspective. Still, Ray knew deep down he was right. Fraser needed to open himself up, to know he deserved to have a birthday like everyone else. ″So, what do you think, Frase? Do you think your mum would want you to start celebrating again?″
Almost in slow motion, Fraser swallowed several times before he finally answered, ″I’ve never thought about it in those terms, Ray.″
″I really think she’d want you to be happy on your birthday, Fraser.″
″You think so?″
″I do. Mums want their sons to have great birthdays. I know my Mum did and it sounds like yours did, too. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble making you a cake and getting you all those presents. She loved you.″
Fraser’s eyes got misty, but he was smiling. ″You’re going to make me cry again, Ray. Stop it.″
Ray leaned in and kissed him, their tongues getting reacquainted. After a little bit of fun time, Ray pulled back. ″I’m hungry. How about you?″
″For cake?″
″Yeah, if you want, but I was thinking we might go out and get some Chinese or some Italian first.″
Fraser’s voice grew husky. ″I vote that we order the pizza. That gives us at least thirty minutes for you to let me unwrap you before it arrives.″
″Unwrap me, huh? You calling me your birthday present?″
″More like birthday surprise.″
″I’m down with that.″
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&The End