"You took him."
From the darkness of the living room, Harry sat in the comfortable armchair as Fraser stepped inside with his family.
The only eyes that widened when the overhead light flooded the room, were that of the little boy in Fraser's arms, and the girl tucked in between her fathers. She looked nothing like either of the men, save for the eyes. Not the colour or shape, but the fearlessness.
The stubbornness.
Likely Fraser didn't think Harry knew about the house in Connecticut, but just because he'd been friends with Fenrir didn't mean Harry trusted him. He'd never trusted him. Just like Fraser knew his weak spots, so did Harry know his.
He pressed on those spots now as he rose slowly from the chair, shoulder protesting the movement.
"Cátia…"
Fraser didn't look away from Harry,
"Take your brother upstairs."
"Dad…"
"Now, Cátia."
Kevin Ashby touched the single braid hanging down his daughter's back. Unlike his husband, he didn't bother hiding his anger at Harry's intrusion into their lives.
The girl… Cátia… narrowed her eyes at Harry, fisting her small hands before she finally turned away, taking her brother into her arms, and stomping away, up the stairs.
Harry gave the two men the courtesy of waiting until a door slammed upstairs before he stepped forward and spoke again,
"You took him."
"I did."
Fraser nodded, putting a hand on his husband's arm when Kevin opened his mouth.
The rage inside, he'd swallowed it, keeping it tamped down since the men burst through his doors a week ago. He didn't like feeling helpless, and he'd felt nothing but when those men turned their guns on Tom. Being outmanned and outgunned never stopped him before. It should have never stopped him, but that visual of a gun to Tom's head stopped him in his tracks.
Flashbacks of Fenrir should have served as a push, but all it did was temper his actions. All it did was force the choice.
Tom alive.
He wanted Tom alive. Unhurt.
"Explain."
He didn't bother raising his voice. His presence in this house alone should serve as the warning and the threat.
Fraser shrugged,
"The mission has changed…I proceeded accordingly."
"It was not your mission therefore it wasn't your call to make."
For a second, pity flashed like purple-neon lights in the depths of Fraser's eyes,
"I beg to differ… It was a call you couldn't make."
That bloody bastard…
"He's the reason my Fenrir's gone."
"And if you wanted him dead, he'd be dead already."
Fraser stepped away from his silent husband and shrugged out of his jacket, dropping in onto the nearby couch. He held Harry's gaze as he rolled up his sleeves,
"It can't be a good feeling to find out mid-fight that the course of the battle has shifted."
Going back to his husband's side, he grabbed Kevin's hand and linked their fingers,
"I've been there."
Harry stared at him, ignoring the words,
"I underestimated you."
Fraser smiled,
"Yes. But don't worry, I get that a lot."
He winked,
"In fact, I count on it."
An obvious trap Harry should have seen. But he'd been blinded by Tom, by the confusion his captive brought,
"Where is he?"
"Why?"
Fraser's eyebrows shot up,
"So, you can drag him back to your torture chambers and bleed him again? Tell me…"
He walked over, standing directly in front of Harry as his husband tensed behind him,
"Is it still torture if the captive wants it? It might be punishment, but whose? His or yours?"
"You know nothing."
All along he'd known Fraser saw too much. All along Harry had known that eventually, he'd have to atone. He just never expected Fraser to be the one to speak the harsh words that peeled away the layers of denial to illuminate the facts underneath.
Fraser laughed,
"Oh, I know. Trust me, I know."
He clapped Harry on the shoulder,
"The weakness you had a month ago is not the same one you have today. I saw it, and I was able to use it to get him away from you. Because I think hurting him will hurt you more."
His voice dropped, turning husky with a rough type of emotion when he said,
"Killing him will kill you."
The truth of those words staggered him, and Harry stiffened his spine to keep from staggering away,
"Fenrir…"
He had nothing else beyond that. Nothing else beyond his name, and the guilt that exploded inside him ten-fold.
Fraser nodded,
"He's gone…But not by his hand. Has he fought you?"
Not once. In fact, he'd egged Harry on. Pushed him,
"He accepts it,"
He murmured as Tom' words echoed in his head.
Kiss me. Kill me.
I don't care.
It no longer matters.
"He might not ask, but he wants your forgiveness. And he might not tell you outright, but he'll gladly walk into your blade."
Harry lifted his focus from Fraser to find Kevin gone. He narrowed his gaze and glanced around. The former Federal Marshal stood in a doorway behind him, hands in his pockets. Caught up in Fraser's words, Harry had failed to notice when the man moved. He peeled his lips back in the appearance of smile,
"You're good."
"I am better than the best."
Fraser said without a hint of brag in his voice,
"I'm also not wrong, and you know this."
"You betrayed me,"
Harry told him,
"Whatever your justification, you won't get a second shot at it."
"You call it betrayal, I call it a chance."
Fraser blew out a breath, gaze flickering over Harry's shoulder to his husband before returning to Harry,
"I'm fully aware that if the roles were reversed, I would be standing where you stand right now. Hell, I've already been there. But I'm also here, on this side, because I made a choice. I chose to let go of the darkness inside. I chose to let someone close. I chose to let him love me. And I also chose to believe that when it came down to loving and being loved that I had any choice at all."
Harry shook his head, but Fraser continued,
"He is free. His choice and yours, too, will be what happens in this second round. More bloodshed?"
"That is your reason?"
Harry grabbed him by the throat, and instantly a gun was at his nape. He ignored the Marshal's silent threat,
"That is the reason you took him?"
"That is my reason."
Fraser didn't struggle,
"What was yours?"
"Release my husband."
Kevin's voice rumbled in Harry's ear,
"Nice and slow."
In response, Harry tightened his hold, choking Fraser until he coughed. Still, the shorter man didn't struggle. He kept his wide eyes on Harry.
"It can't all be about revenge,"
Fraser croaked,
"It can't all be about anger, because those things fizzle out after a while, and you'll be emptier than you've ever been. I understand allegiance and loyalty, but you're not dead. You're not unfeeling, and even though you hate it, he's the reason."
Harry's fingers flexed, the still healing bullet wound in his shoulder protesting the strain of his hold on Fraser,
"Do not speak."
He shook Fraser, shook him until the man stopped talking. Inside him though, the cracking in his chest got louder, echoing in his ears, drowning out any other sound.
Fraser's lips moved again, and the gun at Harry's nape poked him. But in his head, Fenrir's dying words warred with Tom's parting words.
He whispered to Fraser,
"I swore to avenge him."
"So, will you kill him for Fenrir?
Anguish loosened his grip, and though Fraser slipped from his grasp, he didn't move away,
"I failed him before, I can't fail in this. His death, it just can't be for nothing."
Disappointment clouded Fraser's eyes,
"Then you've made your choice… Kevin…"
He addressed his husband,
"Put that gun away."
"Stop letting people put their hands on you,"
His husband barked.
Tenderness lit up Fraser's gaze, and his smile this time was all intimacy and love. At one time Harry could claim a smile like that one as his own.
"Yes, sir."
Fraser winked at his husband then refocused on Harry,
"I reset the positions on the field,"
he told Harry,
"You and him, you're now on even footing. Good luck."
"This stunt of yours, I won't forget it."
Fraser shrugged,
"Didn't think you would. But the next time you step into my home, I'm letting the sniper out on the roof next door take the shot."
He nodded to an open window to Harry's left, and a flash of light glinted in the darkness,
"I cover all my bases, Harry. And my family covers me."
If he wasn't all caught up in the fog of emotion, maybe Harry would have smiled at him,
"You won't kill me, and I won't kill you. We need each other alive."
"I don't need you alive,"
Kevin spoke up,
"You set foot in Connecticut again and you will die. That's a promise."
Harry spun to face him and this time he did smile,
"I admire a man who can keep his promises."
He glanced toward the stairs and called out,
"Andrew… Let's go."
Seconds later, Andrew came clambering down the stairs, the family's dog in his arms, happily licking his face. He saluted them with his gun as he stood next to Harry.
"You cold hearted bastard!"
Kevin swore.
Together with Andrew, Harry left the house the way he came.
Through the front door.