A/N: A big thank you to my beta boxofdelights. This was written for hc_bingo prompt: insomnia. I have written drabbles before for due south but this is my first one shot. I hope you like it! F/V/K

~ds~

9:00 pm

Ray shut his bedroom door behind him, resting his weary body against it. He loved his family, he did, but sometimes even for him they were a bit overwhelming. He would wait for the house to settle a bit and then he would venture back out. Leaning his head against the door, Ray shut his eyes feeling a hundred years old, even though he was only half that age. Ray grudgingly stood back up when his right shoulder started to ache where it was pressed up against the door. Using his left hand to take the sling off his right side, he hung the uncomfortable albeit necessary contraption off the newel post at the end of his bed.

He then gingerly took off his suit jacket, being extra careful to not jostle his right arm. He supposed he could've gone down to the precinct in his casual clothes since he was on administrative leave until his shoulder healed, but his suit was his uniform. Ray didn't feel like a cop unless he had it on, it had begun to feel like armor. Today he had needed that protection; he had gone down to the precinct even though he hadn't needed to in order to explain once again why his newbie partner Robert Smith hadn't waited for backup. Ray, who been taken by surprise by Robbie's actions, had followed his partner inside knowing it was going to end badly but he couldn't leave the other man high and dry. Mercifully, backup had arrived just in time to save their asses, although not Ray's shoulder as he had a bullet wedged in it. Thankfully, he wasn't in trouble with I.A., he had been cleared of any wrong doing but Robbie was being raked over the coals. He felt bad for the kid, Ray understood making mistakes. Let's face it, he had made more than his fair share. So he had gone down there today in order to put in a good word and stand up for his partner, although in the end he wasn't sure how much good it had done.

Ray took his suit jacket and hung it back up in the closet pausing to take a card out of the inside pocket. The postcard had been waiting for him in the mailbox, along with the bills and one of Franny's magazines. On the front was a snowy Canadian mountainside. Ray took a seat on his bed staring at the picture on the front before he turned it over and reread the back. Other than the address which was written in Fraser's handwriting, there were three words, this time in Kowalski's handwriting: When you're ready.

There had been phone calls, emails, and letters written back and forth but never a postcard, so Ray wondered if maybe there might be more to the postcard then meets the eye. With his left hand Ray opened his bedside dresser reached in and withdrew a lighter. He placed the lighter under the postcard, with his thumb on the wheel, and then hesitated. Ray flipped the card back over reading the words once again. He knew he was stalling but couldn't make himself stop, so finally he placed both the lighter and the postcard on his bedside table, and stood up.

Ray gingerly loosened his tie, before he slipped it over his head. His shoulder was throbbing in time with his developing headache. He needed a shower, some aspirin, and a good night's sleep. Ray figured he would be able to manage two out of three. He hadn't managed the third since he returned from Canada three months ago.

When he realized he had spaced out staring at the postcard, Ray shook himself and gathered up his pajamas and everything he would need to take a shower. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was almost ten and so the bathroom would most likely be free. He didn't have the patience to deal with anyone, even concerned sisters who fussed because they cared.

Peeking out, he saw the coast was clear so he beat feet to the bathroom and was disproportionately relieved to make it before he was spotted. He closed the door behind him and then carefully but quickly undressed. In the bathroom mirror he saw his bandage was barely hanging on. Wincing as he peeled the day-old bandage off, Ray saw that although still red and raw looking the incision site did not look infected.

He could almost hear the "I told you so" coming from Canada. Kowalski had met his new partner the last time he had been in Chicago and afterwards had said that the newly minted detective was going to get Ray shot someday. Ray had argued that Robbie was just rough around the edges, now, as much as he was loath to admit it Kowalski was right.

He hadn't really known Kowalski at all when he and Fraser had gone sledding off into the sunset about seven years ago. A couple of months later, the two of them had resurfaced as partners in more ways than one and they had settled down at Fraser's old post in the Northwest Territories. That might've been the end of it if it hadn't been for the American legal system. The thing about the good ole' U.S. of A's legal system is that she can be a bit reluctant to let you go once you have been involved with her in any shape or form. So when Kowalski had been called back south to testify at a parole hearing he had been cajoled/pressured by Ray's mother into staying with the Vecchios.

Ray will admit at first it was awkward to put it mildly but once he got to know the guy, Ray found he actually liked him. Those two weeks were the first trip south but not the last. If it wasn't old cases it was cold cases that the former American detective had had a hand in that would lead Kowalski back to Chicago. Sometimes Fraser could get the time off but most of the time he couldn't. So Kowalski would stay with them while in town, and the two men got to know each other better. Ray liked being able to bounce his latest case off of Kowalski. Kowalski in turn had made it his mission to get Ray to like hockey.

For all of his bellyaching, Ray found that once he sat down and watched a couple games with him that he actually started to like it, but he kept pretending he didn't in order to rile up the other man. Plus Ray had to admit Kowalski was a good guy and soon Ray considered him a good friend as well. So about five years ago, when Kowalski and Fraser had heard that he was being forced to either use or lose his vacation days, they had invited him north. And although Ray had worried about being the third wheel, he soon realized his worries were groundless. It had been one of the better vacations he had ever taken. No plane crashes, or running for their lives, it was almost downright peaceful. That set up the pattern where once a year he would venture north on vacation, and at least a couple of times a year Kowalski and Fraser would end up heading south for one reason or another. If the reasons had gotten flimsier as the years went on no one said anything.

He replaced the bandage and then used a plastic bag that he had cut open to wrap around the shoulder before he taped it in place. He adjusted the water; it took a delicate touch with the old pipes. He was about to step into the tub when he realized the shampoo bottle was empty. Ray grumbled to himself about the inconsiderate people who lived here, as he stepped back out of the shower. Painfully bending down, Ray opened the bathroom cupboard. Reaching in he grabbed the first bottle his fingertips brushed against. When he brought it out to the light he couldn't help the slight gasp that escaped him. It was his mother's lavender-scented shampoo. He quickly put it back and grabbed another one, this time one that was supposed to smell like apples, and finally climbed into the shower. Although it had been a couple of years since Ma had passed away, there were still little reminders scattered around the house. They were all loath to get rid of anything that had once belonged to her.

Ma's death had been sudden and had hit them all hard. Ray could still remember being in a daze in the days that followed. In the week leading up to the funeral he had done all he was supposed to. He made arrangements for Ma's funeral, had made sure the relatives from out of town had a place to stay, and had held his sisters as they cried. Ray himself, though, was just going through the motions; he had felt disconnected from everything that was going on around him. He had sat dry eyed through both the funeral and the wake unable to grieve. That night he had escaped the house unable to stay another minute under a roof that no longer held his mother.

Instead he had driven around until he found himself in front of Fraser and Kowalski's hotel. They had come down for the funeral but had insisted on staying at a hotel, as the Vecchio house was already overflowing with grieving relatives. He had been about to drive away when Fraser had come out and invited him inside. That night with the two of them Vecchio had finally been able to break down and cry, in the arms of his friends. The next morning is when things changed for the three of them, or maybe it was just the next step in the journey they had been on since that first invite north. To this day Vecchio could still feel the weight and warmth of Kowalski against his bare back, with his hands gripping Ray's hips, and the sound of his name as Fraser breathed it out against his mouth.

When Kowalski and Benny had returned north, Ray had chalked up what had happened between the three of them as a fluke, nothing more than two friends comforting a third. A couple months later he was happily proven wrong when he went north for his vacation. It was pretty much the same as his other trips north only this time he didn't sleep in the guest room. After that he stopped trying to label what their relationship was. When the water went from lukewarm to cold, it shocked Ray out of his musings and he finished up his shower in short order.

Once back in his room, Ray laid out a button down shirt to put on but first he checked his bandage to make sure it hadn't gotten wet in the shower. It would be a couple days until his next doctor's appointment. Hopefully then he would give Ray the all clear to be able to forgo the bandage. Putting on a shirt was a pain in the ass. Or should he say shoulder? Painfully threading his arm through the sleeve, Ray finished buttoning up his shirt and grabbed the postcard and lighter off the bedside table. Sitting on the bed, Ray once again hesitated before shaking his head and calling himself a coward. Finally he spun the wheel and the flame sparked blue to orange. Passing it under the postcard, Ray smiled as a picture revealed itself. He had been right.

Jesus, is this what we look like around each other?

The picture was of the three of them. Ray remembered when Frannie had taken it. It had been about a year after the funeral, at a family dinner. Fraser and Kowalski had come down just for a visit and had once again stayed at a hotel, and Ray ended up staying with them for most of the four days they had been down. It was the way they were looking at each other in the picture that had Ray taking an involuntary breath in. Their gazes were full of love and fondness. In that moment he missed them so much it was a physical ache.

~ds~

3:30 am

Ray reached over and took the kettle off the stove before it had a chance to whistle. He just wanted a cup of tea, not to wake up the whole house. He tried sleeping but had given up after an hour and a half. He poured the hot water into the cup and placed the kettle back on the stove before sitting down at the kitchen table. As he waited for the tea to cool off a bit, he picked up the postcard again. It had been three months since the three of them had been together even though they had talked on the phone. It was the last night of his stay with Kowalski and Fraser that Ray's thoughts kept returning to. There had been a desperate quality to their lovemaking that last night. As they lay sprawled across the bed, and even as the sweat cooled on their bodies, the air had felt heavy with tension.

We love you. I love you too.

Please stay. I can't.

Ray had wanted to stay but he left anyway. It had felt wrong to stay but it had felt just as bad, if not worse, to leave.

He was startled out of his musings by a loud horn from the street. Although after midnight Chicago was still bustling. The city was one of the reasons he had left Canada. Chicago was his home. He had never imagined a future outside of its city limits. Although since he had returned, and before that if he was honest with himself, the city had started to feel like wearing an Armani suit that had been tailor made for someone else. Like he was trying to force himself to play the part he thought he should play.

Then there was his family.

As if that thought held power he heard a footfall in the hallway. He wasn't surprised to see Frannie standing in the doorway. She shuffled in and pulled down a mug from the cupboard. Once she had her tea made, she sat opposite him. She grabbed the postcard off the table, read the words on the back and then flipped it over and stared at the picture on the front for a long moment.

"I knew when I took this picture," Frannie said softly.

Ray felt a jolt of surprise go through him, "Frannie…" and then he stopped, looking away, unsure of what to say.

He heard a soft hey and then her hand reached out and grasped his. Ray looked up and saw his little sister looking at him with sympathy and understanding.

There were tears in her eyes and she said, "I just want you to be happy." She gripped his hand harder, and continued, "I don't know if you think you don't deserve it or if you need me to tell you we will be ok…but you deserve to be happy and we will be fine." The last part was said with such conviction, that Ray couldn't help but believe it.

Ray stood up and pulled Frannie up into a fierce hug. She held onto him just as tightly.

~ds~

Ray splashed water on his face in the bathroom before he returned to his room. He needed to think. Closing the door quietly behind him, Ray sat on the edge of the bed, postcard in hand.

When you're ready

Three words. That was the sticking point wasn't it? Was he ready?

Ray stared at the picture of the three of them. He closed his eyes and memories of the last few years flew through this mind. Ray didn't want a couple of weeks north once year and a weekend at a hotel whenever Kowalski and Fraser had an excuse to come to Chicago. He wanted and needed an everyday life that was made up of the three of them.

He loved them and they loved him. It was as simple and as wonderfully complex as that.

Ray slowly stood up as he felt that thought settle in his heart, and a growing sense that his home was no longer a house in a Chicago and instead was in a cabin in the Northwest Territories. Glancing at the clock, Ray saw it was now going on four thirty. He could go down to the precinct in two hours. He could tumble his administrative leave into a vacation, using up what time was owed, and then he could put in his notice to retire.

He could be there in two days time. He could be with them in forty-eight hours. All of a sudden Ray didn't know what he was waiting for.

With that thought Ray got up and opened his closet, pulled his duffel bag from the top shelf and started packing.

He was ready.

The End