Disclaimer - Don't own it.
Part 1 - Being an internal monologue
of Ray Kowalski during Good for the Soul, after Fraser gets himself beaten up playing chicken with one of the biggest mob bosses in Chicago.
Those eyes, usually full of trust, heart, openness, and now he's looking down at his boots, at the floor of the car, as if he can hardly stand to be near you. What the hell has he got to be ashamed of?
Fraser hasn't said much. Thanked you, automatically, when you helped ease him into the car. Gave you a look when you asked what happened. You'd have been amused any other time, if it was directed at someone else, the way it said, for a split second, 'are you a total imbecile?', but it's not like him to show that much contempt, and neither's his brief, mumbled account of the whole incident, entirely lacking in his usual sharp grasp of detail. He won't even lift his head, eyes down like a kicked dog.
Of course you're protective. Fraser's your partner. More than that, he's your friend, brother. He doesn't seem to think you're crazy, he accepts you for who you are. You look out for each other. And on top of that, you're protective because his chivalry has a way of getting him walked all over, and if you don't stand up for him, who will? Sure, he can be demanding. He can be arrogant. He thinks he's right all the time - but you think you're right all the time, so while there's some butting heads there, you can't blame the man for that. His tendency to drag your skinny ass into danger the second a civilian breaks a fingernail -well, you could live without it, but then, he wouldn't be Fraser any more.
You tell Fraser you're taking him to the nearest ER. You're scared by how unresponsive he's acting. At this, you see a spark of fire, his jaw tightening as he refuses. "That won't be necessary, Ray." and that's that. You've done enough arguing and cajoling him for one day. You'll respect his wishes. You head to the station, for want of anywhere else sensible to take him. You're damn sure you can't handle this one on your own.
So how did you protect him this time? You look across at Fraser while you're stuck at a stoplight, see a couple of ugly shades of purple on white, his lower lip swelling up like a balloon. You will him to look up and see how sorry you are, how much you hate that you failed him, but when he meets your eyes, all you see is a kind of incredulous pleading, as if he's unwilling to believe you could be asking him, now, the state he's in, to do one more thing for you. All you see is that for once he hasn't got anything left, can't even swallow your apology and muster some kind of gracious look of reassurance.
Fraser never listens when you tell him to back off a case. You never meant it to turn out this way. But as soon as you heard Warfield's name, as soon as you figured out just who Fraser was trying to put under citizen's arrest (and by the way, can a foreign national even do that?) you knew that this was a fight he couldn't win. You don't think you're a coward, but a man has to know his limits, right? Not Fraser. He'd dug his heels in, determined to prove a point.
How many times did you tell Fraser he couldn't take Warfield down? One of Chicago's biggest mob bosses. A ruthless bastard with an army of lawyers, not to mention an actual army, at his disposal. But Fraser couldn't accept that. Nothing comes before justice in his world. You have your own self-destructive tendencies, but it's not like you put yours on a pedestal and call them 'duty'. He doesn't even realize the number of close calls he's dragged you and him through for some abstract concept. Like a freaking pit bull, he just can't let go.
Fraser can't stand seeing the little guy get trod on with no recourse, no one to stick up for 'em. Can't stand it. You knew that's why he wouldn't budge. You, you can't stand to watch Fraser beat his head against the brick wall of money and influence. You've known your whole life that's how things work in this town. Of course you hate it. You wish you still believed, as he seems to, that one man standing up for his ideals is enough to change the world, but you think of what your father said, wish in one hand, spit in the other, see which fills up first. And since you can't change the way the world works, not even for Fraser, you wish he could accept that some things are just too big for him to take on.
Did you think, if you drove away and left Fraser alone outside Warfield's club, he'd change his mind about sticking around there? Or was it the frustration? That's what burns you up now. Were you still trying to shield him from the consequences of going after Warfield, or were you just pissed at his refusal to see things your way? Why did you let it slide so easily, let him send you, and dammit, even the wolf, away? Sure, you had no grounds to arrest him, that was a bluff, expressing your worry for him by threatening to drag him downtown, but couldn't you have tried harder? Would it have killed you to stare down his stubbornness a little longer?
The call came in, the bouncer on the door. Said it was a mugging. Didn't even bother trying to sound sincere when he lied. You should have known this was going to happen. Warfield's hired goons had tried it on once, and you'd been there, been there to bail his ass out of hot water, so why would you think they wouldn't try it on again when they were sure he was alone? Fraser should have known too. But he'd never believe the worst. He'd trust that he would be strong enough to see justice done, never mind the price. That's going to get him killed one day, and god damn it, you hope you don't have to see it when it happens. If you were a cat you'd have gone through eight lives already trying to delay that day.
When you got there, breaking even more traffic laws than usual, pride was the only thing keeping Fraser on his feet. You could see, the way he wouldn't meet your eyes, there wasn't much of that left. You tried feeling angry at him for not listening to you, for letting this happen, but it was half-hearted and you know, you know that it was a dodge to cover up how much you hate yourself right now.
You've read all the files - more than once. Ostensibly it was to make sure you could slide right into your cover, but you're not fooling yourself, you can't help comparing yourself to the 'real' Ray, reminding yourself that all these people are basically pretending to be your friends. So you know this isn't the first time someone tried to stop Fraser with an old fashioned beat down. But the real Ray, you figure he wouldn't have let it happen this way. You can't help glancing over again, looking at Fraser with that burning question that he'd never answer, he's too loyal, but you wonder, does he think that too?
You wanted to protect Fraser? Great job, Kowalski. You wanted to protect him by making him see he couldn't win, so he'd give up and get the hell away from the danger he was putting himself in. You wanted him to understand that the system would always beat him when it came to a guy like Warfield. You bet he understands that now. That look of defeat- it's not like Fraser to let a little physical danger slow him down, you know it's more than that.
Not one of you stood by him, not Welsh, not Stella, god knows not his own commanding officer, Thatcher, and worst of all, not you. You know in your heart that if you'd supported him, this attack would just have been a bump in the road, not whatever it is to him - the last straw. You're going to snap the steering wheel in half the way you're gripping it, because there is nothing you can do, nothing at all, to change the fact that you let your partner down.
When you pull up outside the station, you watch Fraser visibly attempt to compose himself, trying to put on a good face for all the people in there who are going to want him to tell them that everything's okay. Apparently you're the only one he'll let see him like this. That probably means something important, but you don't know what, except you could live a hundred more years and you wouldn't forget the total collapse you'd just witnessed.
He's shaking, just barely perceptibly, but- still. The let down from the adrenaline rush, that's all, right? He doesn't want to let you assist him, but he's too unsteady on his feet just yet to refuse your support as you help him in to the station to the inevitable sideshow of concerned cops.
Fraser doesn't do as well as usual at convincing everyone he's just fine. In fact, only Frannie seems distracted enough to ignore what's in front of her in favor of lecherous comments. Welsh is practically paternal in his concern. It's a knife twist when Fraser walks out, refusing your offer of a ride. Who'd have thought that hearing him say you were right would cut you so deep?
Fraser's been the moral compass of the precinct for how long? And you all take it for granted that he'll always be there, reliably pointing true North, showing the way to the high ground. You know you need that. You're a better person with someone to hold you back from kicking heads. You like to think that you're good for him, too, your instinct and passion matching well with his logic and determination. But not tonight. Tonight you think he would have been better off if he never met you.
It's unthinkable to watch him knuckle under and walk away from doing what he knows is right. It's impossible to deny that you played a part in this disaster. And that tears at you, right in the gut.
Turns out, after all that time you spent trying to get him to see how things really work in Chicago, none of you have the stomach to watch him deal with the resultant trashing of his ideals. In fact, it turns out that quite a number of you are prepared to put up with whatever shit the State's Attorney might hand out, are prepared to go toe to toe with a stone cold killer, rather than see that particular pair of broad shoulders slumped over in despair and resignation.
Welsh doesn't have to ask twice if you want to go take Warfield down. Maybe that will make it all better, maybe it'll restore Fraser's damaged faith in justice, in people. You have to hope so. Because if it doesn't, well, Kowalski, it's just one more screw up for the books. But this one, you're not sure you can bear.
Author's Note: Phew. I know the episode works its way to a happy ending, but I couldn't let Ray off the hook. I'm a big meanie. This was going to be a one-shot because Ray's part came to me a while ago, but when I was wrapping things up, it became clear that I need to tell Ben's side of the story too, so that's coming in a few days. I could really use some critical feedback for this before I go on with the second part, so please review if you feel so inclined. I know the point of view is odd, so I'd love to hear reactions. Neither first nor third person seemed to work to tell the story quite how I wanted.