Weakness

by Tanya Reed

Disclaimer: As always, Due South belongs to Alliance Atlantis.

---------------------------------------------------------

Elaine sat silently staring at the bruised and battered body in front of her. His face was swollen and full of abrasions, nothing like the handsome image of him she carried in her mind. She wondered who could have done such an awful thing to her friend. It must have been someone very strong because Glen was not what she would call a small person.

Her mind wandered back to the first time she had met him. Tommy had brought him home one day, a shy, quiet boy with soft dark hair and solemn brown eyes. Elaine had fallen in love with him that day, her whole seven year old heart going out to him. That had been a long time ago, and her feelings had since changed from ardor to kinship. She loved Glen like a brother, and it hurt her to see the way someone had abused him.

Gently, Elaine ran a hand over his face. Even in his unconscious state, he winced. It tore at her heart. Looking at him, she couldn't help but see the little boy who would do anything to make her laugh.

"I hope they find the jerk that did this to you."

If he would just wake up. Elaine had been waiting patiently with him all night, keenly aware of Huey and Dewey also there in the Waiting Room. Burrell was an important businessman and Welsh had warned them not to leave the hospital unless he was dead. Though he was looking to prestige and not friendship, the Lieutenant seemed to want to get the creep as much as Elaine did.

Elaine's hand moved down from her friend's face to his motionless hand. There was an abrasion on his knuckles, and she hoped that meant he had gotten in a shot or two. She ran her fingertips over his long fingers and down underneath so she could hold on to his hand. Surprise went through her when he gently squeezed back.

Her eyes went immediately to his face. "Glen?"

"Elaine?" His voice was rough and barely above a whisper, but it was there.

Elaine's heart leapt as he opened bruised and blackened eyes.

"Where...where am I?"

"There was an incident, in your apartment. Do you remember?" she asked softly.

Glen thought for a moment before replying, "He...he hit me."

"Yes, he did. I've got to go get the nurse. Will you be all right here alone?"

He nodded slightly and loosed her hand. She got up, excitement and relief tingling in her body.

Glen was going to be all right!

---------------------------------------------------

Ben walked into the 27th with his usual calm and poise. None of his thoughts showed in the sereness of his face or in his shuttered eyes. People spoke to him and he answered without even hearing their words.

After his 'meeting' with the Inspector, Ben left the Consulate to give her some time to accept the fact that she had lost control in front of him. Wandering aimlessly, his feet brought him to the park where he and Dief often walked together. Sitting there among the trees, Fraser realized for the first time that he had done something illegal. He had assaulted someone and then walked away from his crime. He had been deceitful by keeping the fact to himself and, in essence, forcing Ray to lie for him. Biting his lip, it came to him that someone was no doubt looking for Burrell's assaulter. Fraser was a criminal that hadn't been caught yet.

Not that he was sorry. As he sat there, he tried to be, but all his mind could come up with were the haunting images of Glen striking Meg in anger. Those pictures tormented him, filling his mind whenever his grip on control loosened. No, he couldn't be sorry, but he could do the right thing.

The next thing he knew, he was walking familiar hallways, talking to familiar faces, and hoping they couldn't tell that the situation was far from familiar.

He noticed with relief that neither Ray nor Elaine were at their desks. He had a fuzzy memory of Ray saying that she was Burrell's friend. Fraser hoped that she would forgive him, that she would understand.

Welsh's voice grunted, "Come in," when Fraser knocked on his office door. The constable noticed that the lieutenant was eating one of his huge cold cut sandwiches, and he looked a little annoyed at being interrupted.

"Constable Fraser."

"Yes, sir."

Ben had come to like the gruff lieutenant in the time he'd known him, and that made this moment all the harder.

"Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but I find it necessary to inform you that I have committed a crime."

Lieutenant Welsh chewed slowly, looking thoughtful. After swallowing, he asked, "Are you saying that you want to turn yourself in, Constable?"

"That would be correct, sir."

"What for this time? Jaywalking?"

Fraser detected amusement in his eyes, though his face remained serious. What was he supposed to say next? Ben rubbed a knuckle along his eyebrow, breaking eye contact.

"Well, you see, sir...I,uh...I've done something that is decidedly frowned upon in both of our countries. Especially for me, as a member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, to have done the thing I did, well, it's very complicated. I imagine you'll want to arrest me immediately, sir, that is, if you believe..."

"What are you trying to get at, Constable?"

His momentum broken, Fraser stopped speaking. He stared helplessly at the lieutenant for a moment before trying to organize his thoughts. When he opened his mouth again, this time to get to the point, he was interrupted by the forms of Huey and Dewey barreling through the door.

"You won't believe this, sir," one of them was saying.

The other one added, "Not in a million years."

"Gentlemen, can't you see that I have company?"

Both pairs of eyes turned and took in Fraser, then their mouths opened in shock. It was almost as if they were on a shared puppet string.

"Fraser, you're here," Huey said.

"Yes."

"You don't want to be here."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Welsh demanded.

Fraser looked at the pair more closely and realized with a start that they knew. Both were looking at him with a kind of awe and maybe a little horror.

"I assure you gentlemen that I do indeed want to be here. This is where I belong."

Welsh let out a heavy sigh. "Will someone please tell me what's going on?"

"It's Fraser," Huey said reluctantly.

"What's Fraser?"

"I think Detective Huey is referring to the fact that the night before last I assaulted Glen Burrell in his home."

Immediately, Lieutenant Welsh began to cough. He hastily put down his sandwich and closed his eyes. Thomas Dewey helpfully pounded on his back, and Fraser watched with concern.

"Are you all right, sir?"

"You, Fraser?" He gasped, still struggling to breathe. "It was you?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"Why?"

"I can't say, sir."

"Mr. Burrell is pressing charges," Huey said helpfully. "We were just coming to tell you that we have to arrest him."

"What happened?" Fraser opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Welsh raised his hand. "Don't say anything, Constable. Not until you've lawyered up. I don't want to hear anything that can be used against you. Do you have a lawyer?"

"No, sir." Fraser shook his head.

"Then we'll find you one."

With a slight nod, Fraser held out his wrists to be handcuffed. A look passed between Dewey and Welsh before the detective said, "I don't think those will be necessary."

Fraser shrugged and accepted Huey's hand on his arm as his only restraint.