Frannie's Lament

By Tanya Reed

This chapter is dedicated to britduck21, Sarai, nedfan, AEM1, and johnsparrow. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I still do not own anything belonging to the Due South universe.

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Meg and Frannie stumbled over the uneven ground. Their progress was painfully slow, and Meg was sure they made unusually good targets. Angrily, she cursed herself and tried not to lean so heavily on Frannie.

After Meg was shot, the partners had fled for a good fifteen minutes before Frannie finally declared they were hidden enough for her to take care of Meg's wound. Meg had agreed in a surly manner, admitting only to herself that she was getting slightly lightheaded. And the pain was almost unbearable.

Frannie had ripped Meg's t-shirt up the sleeve seem to get better access to the wound. Then, using water she'd found nearby, which Meg doubted was very clean but hadn't said so, Frannie washed the drying blood away and used part of her already tiny top as a bandage. Meg had tried to seem unaffected during the operation, but it was hard with the pulses of pain that came with each beat of her heart. She had grit her teeth against the agony and told Frannie it was time for them to move on. It wasn't long after that that Meg began to stumble as her legs began to betray her weakened condition. She had protested at Frannie's supporting arm, but she was still grateful for it.

Frannie, who could die any moment because of her weakness. It made Meg angry. The fact that it had all come down to this turtle's crawl as they waited to be popped off. A frustrated growl came from her throat. Frannie should not have to die because of her.

"Dammit, Frannie, leave me," she snarled, pulling away and almost falling to the ground.

The American regarded her silently for several minutes, her dark eyes betraying more intelligence than her brother ever gave her credit for.

"If you keep lugging me around, you're going to die."

"Pixie sticks," Frannie answered seriously. "No one knows where we are."

"But how long do you think that'll last at this pace? Your only chance is to leave me behind."

Fire sparked in her eyes as she replied, "I won't leave you."

"You have to. They'll kill..."

"I know you wouldn't leave me if our situations were reversed. Do you think I'm any less a woman than you are?"

"No, that's not..."

"You listen to me. My brother lugged Fraser to hell and back when they crashed that time. If Ray can do it, I think I can do it. Consider it a family trait."

Despite her pain and exasperation, Meg almost smiled. "Carrying Canadians to safety is a family trait?"

"It is today."

"I still don't thi..."

"Shut up, Meg." Frannie's grim voice stopped Meg's protests. Apparently, Frannie was determined to die lugging a piece of dead wood, and there was nothing Meg could do to stop her.

Meg remained silent as Frannie took hold of her again, her grip gentle despite her stormy expression. They went forward even more slowly than before, each step to Meg feeling as if her arm were being pulled off. She fought for consciousness through the pain, her respect for Frannie going up several notches. If plain stubborness could get them out of this alive, they just might have a chance.

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Stupid squirrel!

Kowalski sat up quickly, spluttering and trying to breathe. Cold water streamed down his face and dripped from the hair plastered to his skull. He struggled to stay upright, wiping a hand over his face so he could see. His clothes clung to him uncomfortably, and he hated the sensation of having water in his shorts.

The hand that was wiping at his face pushed hair off of his forehead. He splashed around, trying to get to his feet. The marble was slippery, causing him to swear under his breath as his feet kept slipping in different directions.

A voice made him freeze.

"Who's there?"

Instinctively, Ray dropped, burying himself in the water he had just been cursing. Peering over the rim, he silently wished for a piece.

A young man was making his way towards Ray, a gun in his hand. He looked as if he couldn't be more than twenty, and there was an air of timid uncertainty about him.

"Come out. I know I heard you," he said, coming closer.

Ray watched him warily, tensing his muscles. When the young criminal was close enough, Ray let out a roar and sprang from the fountain directly at him. He shot but missed as Ray's body slammed into his and knocked him to the ground. Their bodies made sloshy sounds as they struggled, and Ray found himself almost grateful to the squirrel. If not for the small animal, the man would have shot him before Ray knew that he was there.

Ray was slight but his opponent was more so, and he soon had the younger man pinned to the ground.

"Where is Renata?" Ray hissed, roughly slamming the boy against the ground.

Confusion went over his face, and he blinked once before asking, "What?"

"Renata! Where is she?" Frustration made Ray want to scream, but all he did was tighten his grip on the boy's clothes.

"I don't know."

Angrily, Ray banged him against the ground again. Images of Frannie out there and helpless filled his mind, and he absently realized that he was shaking.

"Really," the crook insisted. Fear had widened his dark eyes aso that they took over his pale face.

Reluctantly, Ray had to admit to himself that he believed him. With a sigh, he hit the kid's face as hard as he could. The body went limp under him, so Ray got up, picked up the discarded gun, and went to continue his search for Frannie.

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Meg was getting heavier by the second, Frannie noted as she stumbled along supporting her partner. The Canadian was trying to carry her own weight but was failing miserably. It seemed to Frannie that she had been lugging her forever. Her whole body ached with the strain of it, and she didn't know how much further she could go on. Her knees were threatening to buckle; the only thing keeping Frannie from collapsing was knowing that if she failed they would both die.

It was at this moment that she raised her eyes from the dirt at their feet and saw a tiny building wreathed in silence. It was a small wooden shack, well kept except for some peeling paint and a bird's nest under the eaves. There was a dusty little window showing shadows of things inside. Frannie guessed it was some kind of gardener's shed, and nothing in her life had ever looked better.

Dragging Meg, still mindful of her wounded shoulder, Frannie made her way forward. She listened carefully for sounds of life but heard none. As she reached the building, Frannie peeked in the window. Inside was neat and orderly, with all manner of tools hung along the wall. Under the window was a table that was also piled with tools, and a wheelbarrow containing a shovel, a hose, and a bag of manure stood in one corner. It definitely would do.

Satisfied, Frannie went around the corner of the shed and found the door. She propped Meg up against the wall so she could try it, carefully making sure her partner did not fall. A smile spread over her face as the knob turned easily, and there wasn't even a creak as the well-oiled hinges allowed them to enter.

Once inside, Frannie said softly, "Meg."

"Hmmn?"

Frannie gently lowered her burden to the floor. The Canadian had been lapsing in and out of consciousness for the past little while, and Frannie wasn't sure how much she was aware of.

"I'm going to find the best way out. That will be easier to do by myself." The words sounded harsh but they were true. "I'll be back for you as soon as I find it."

"No," Meg protested, opening her eyes. They were glazed with pain.

"I have to, Meg, but I'll be back."

"Don't come back," Meg mumbled. "Leave me here."

"Huh?"

"Get out. If you come back, we'll both be lost."

"That again?" Frannie felt her anger flare. "I'm not leaving you here to be a centaur, Meg Thatcher, and that's final."

"Martyr."

"What?"

Meg didn't answer. Her eyes were closed and her breathing harsh.

"Meg?...Meg?"

Frannie leaned over Meg and wiped dark hair from her damp forehead. Hoping to get some reaction, she whispered, "Martyr, centaur, detour, back door...whatever!"

Her friend remained as still as death. With a sigh, Frannie got up and went to the door. Before leaving, she turned around and said, "I will be back for you, and you'd better be alive when I get here."