Justice
Pilot
There he was, staring down at the cold and lifeless body laid out before him on the metal morgue table. The last time that he had spoken to him was at Christmas, and it was a rather terse conversation at that. The man had left him with his grandparents when he was very young, choosing his career over his own son. And though Benton had never been openly bitter or angry at his choice, it didn't mean that he hadn't felt it.
He had been a normal boy, well, as normal as the circumstances would allow. Okay, so he hadn't been normal at all, but he was definitely human, and his emotions ran deep, the only thing was that his grandparents, like his father, had been incredibly stoic. He hadn't learned how to properly express his feelings, and whenever his father did visit, which was quite rare, feelings were definitely on the 'never to bring up' list.
So, here he stood, watching the unmoving face, clenching his jaw and trying to quell a sudden wave of anger and regret. Anger for the heinous murder itself, and regret for things not said, and for those that were…
Christmas 1992
"Dief. Dief. Dief!" Fraser sighed dramatically while hanging his head. He made a point of stomping loudly across the room to where his friend and companion lay. When the wolf looked up at his arrival, Fraser knelt down and grabbed his muzzle in his hand, "Diefenbaker, look at me," he continued when he was sure that he was paying attention, "will you quit your moping? I simply did not have the time, nor the strength to chop down a fir, we'll simply have to make due without this year."
Diefenbaker looked at him.
"Oh, come on. It's completely unnecessary! It's a waste of a perfectly good tree. I mean, the tradition is absurd anyway, taking the life of a living being for pure pleasure and decoration."
Dief blinked at him.
"A tree most certainly is a living being!"
Dief still looked at him.
"Oh just because you use them as a lavatory does not detract from their overall ecological significance. I'll have you know that the Douglas Fir-" The door to the cabin unexpectedly opened, slamming into the wall behind it, letting in drifts of snow and a blast of freezing air before admitting a figure caked in white and bulked by brown fur. Benton stopped his argument with the wolf and straightened up to greet the new visitor.
"Hullo son," the guest called, shaking himself and bolting the door closed again.
"Hello Dad,"
Robert Fraser began to strip off his outer layers while he moved to the small wooden stove in the corner, pouring himself a warm cup of whatever was in the pot.
"I wasn't aware that you were going to visit this year," Benton said, curious as to why his father had shown up out of the blue.
"It's Christmas. Can I not visit my son and spend the holiday with him anymore?"
"No, certainly, I mean yes, no," Benton stopped and took a breath, unsure why his father unsettled him so, "There is nothing that says you can't." No, he was lying to himself; he knew exactly why he was acting so strangely. He wasn't used to his father visiting 'just because he could'. When he saw him as a child, he had only stopped by because he had just brought in a criminal and happened to be in the right town. He was always gone the next morning.
"Good, good," Fraser Sr. said absently, while taking a sip of whatever was in his mug. He made a disgusted face and swallowed hardly when he realized that it was tea. Why couldn't his son drink coffee like a normal man?
He had a horrible suspicion that he had said that last part aloud when he looked at Benton and saw him visibly recoil. He swiped off the hat that was on his head and sat down in one move, his knees cracking, showing their age.
"I suppose that it's too much to ask if you have any liquor hidden around here?"
Benton, recovered from the previous blow, shot him a look, "yeah, I thought so," then, looking around the sparse cabin he noticed that there were absolutely no decorations to mark the festive occasion.
"Why don't you have a tree Benton? I would have thought that you at least would have put a little effort into making the place look nice."
He had been silently stewing up until that last remark. Truly, it was the little huff from Dief that did him in. His father had waltzed into his life, yet again, and critiqued and criticized him. But, he had been brought up to be polite, and he had to answer his father. So, it was with a thin veneer of civility he spoke.
"Well, Dad, I have just tonight returned from the hospital after a week long manhunt across the Inkotchu Glacier by dogsled. During which I nearly lost my left arm from frost bite, not to mention the fact that I had to put down Athena because she broke both her legs in a fall. She would have never recovered and we were days from any town. She was suffering too much for me to not do anything. Then, when I finally caught up with the wanted men, I found out that they had kidnapped the daughter of a local Inuit tribal elder. However, just as I was approaching, the ice gave way. She died, along with one of the kidnappers. I only managed to save one man by holding onto him, even as he tried to stab me. Along with Dief's help, he was subdued and I started back for town. But, as if I hadn't been through enough already. That storm came through, as you well know. Well, I was caught out in it and had to give most of my supplies to the criminal because he was unprepared for the harsh weather. Despite these measures, he was unused to the cold and succumbed to frost bite. He died an hour before I was able to successfully signal help. They found me nearly unconscious, and literally frozen to the man's dead body. All that and I was unable to bring anyone to justice; they got away with their crimes. So, forgive me Dad, I was too tired to decorate this year."
Benton's dialogue had left him breathless, and Robert speechless. Seeing the stare on his father's face, his courage fled. He motioned to Dief to follow him and he began to dress in his coat and mittens and hat to prepare to go outside.
His father was still quiet when he turned to him.
"Feel free to stay as long as you'd like, Dad, but I won't be back. I've got to tell the elder about his daughter. No one has told him yet, apparently none were willing to make the trip. Goodbye," he placed his Stetson on his head and walked out the door to prep the dogs, Dief following obediently, for once, behind.
If he had known that that "Goodbye" would be his last… the guilt alone was enough to drown him.
He had to make it up to him. He had to bring his killer to justice to truly honor him. To ask for forgiveness. If only he could speak to him one more time, to apologize.
He etched the memory of his dead face into his mind, as a reminder, until he couldn't bear to look at him anymore. Benton raised his eyes and refused to lower them, falling into the comforting rigidity of parade rest, staring straight ahead as the mortician covered up his father once again with the blank sheet. He would do anything. Justice must be served.