Weakness
by Tanya Reed
Disclaimer: Due South and its characters belong to Alliance Atlantis.
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Elaine walked down the hallway of the 27th, her arms full of files. She had only been there five minutes and already Welsh had her running around collecting information.
She knew she must look awful. After all, she had been up most of the night sitting with her friend Glen. When Huey and Dewey had gone in to question him, Elaine went home and took a shower and put on some make up. She knew that, even so, her fatigue still showed. With a sigh, she rubbed one tired fist over her eye. She intended to jump into bed as soon as she got home that evening and to sleep until morning.
"I still can't believe it." Huey's voice floated to her from a little ways away.
"Who would have thought--Fraser," Dewey's voice answered.
"Well, at least he had a good reason."
"Wonder what she did to provoke him."
"Some men don't need to be provoked."
Curiosity overruled tiredness and Elaine went up to see what they were talking about. "Hi, guys. Did I hear you mention Fraser?"
"Oh, hi, Elaine," Jack Huey replied.
His partner said, "Have you heard about Fraser?"
Elaine shook her head.
"He's been arrested."
"Arrested? Fraser?" Surprise went through her and she almost dropped her files. "For what?"
"He beat up that guy. You know, Greg Burrell."
"It was Glen," Huey corrected.
"Glen what?"
"Burrell. It was Glen Burrell."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, ask Elaine."
Elaine interrupted them, a numb feeling settling about her. "Fraser beat up Glen?"
"Yup."
She shook her head in protest. "It can't be true. Fraser would never..."
"He told us so himself."
"And so did Burrell," Dewey added.
"I...I don't believe you."
"Tell her the rest of the story," Dewey prodded Huey.
"Well, it seems that this Glen guy beat up Fraser's boss..."
"The Dragon Lady."
"Yeah, the Dragon Lady. Fraser got mad and hit him."
"She lied," Elaine hissed.
"Huh?"
"That...woman lied," she growled. "Why would she do that?" Elaine felt the anger rise to her cheeks.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," she stormed, "She must have wanted to hurt Glen, so she made up a lie about him.
Fraser believed it, and--well you saw what he did!"
"Elaine, are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she replied, stalking away.
As she headed towards Lt. Welsh's office, she felt the heat of her face start to tingle all through her body. That someone could accuse the gentlest man she knew of assault and battery was ludicrous. The reasons for such a viscous rumor were beyond her. At least she, Elaine, knew the truth. She would stand beside him.
And God help the Dragon Lady if she got in her way.
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Ray was sitting at his desk drinking coffee, his body taut and ready to run. He had been avoiding Elaine for about two hours. One angry confrontation per day was enough for him.
She was angrier than he had ever seen her. After demanding to know the truth of where Ray stood on Meg's case and finding out he was in charge of it, her anger had suddenly turned towards him. She refused to believe that any of the things said against her friend were true. Elaine refused to be reasonable. Having two sisters, Ray had learned that the only way to deal with an unreasonable woman was to run.
The ring of his cell phone made him jump.
"I'm not jumpy or anything," he mumbled self-deprecatingly before punching a button.
"Vecchio."
"Ray?"
Ray felt himself smile at the voice he heard on the other end.
"Benny!"
"Yes, Ray. I'm calling to tell you that I am at the hospital with Inspector Thatcher."
"Is she okay?"
"No need for concern. She is just being examined by a doctor as you suggested."
"Good. Is she pretty beat up?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"What'd the doctor say?"
"I haven't spoken to him, Ray. I'm in the waiting room. The Inspector wanted me to inform you that the results will be faxed to the station in the morning."
Ray ran a hand over his balding head. "Is that all you wanted, Benny?"
"No. I also wanted to tell you that..." Ray heard his friend clear his throat before continuing. He could see him in his mind's eye, tugging at his earlobe. "...I will be...uh...taking the pictures you requested at my apartment tonight, as well as developing them."
"Tonight?"
"At the Inspector's request."
Ray frowned. When Thatcher decided to do something, she really jumped in with both feet.
"Did you want me to come get them or wait until morning?"
"I think she'd prefer as soon as possible, if that's all right with you."
"Yeah. I'll be there around eight or eight thirty."
Benny sighed. "Thank you kindly, Ray."
"How is she?"
"Extremely composed."
Before today, this would have elicited a snort from Ray. Now, it just made him worry that she wasn't facing her feelings. Against his will, he said, "Take care of her, okay?"
"The Inspector can care for herself," Benny protested.
"But even Mounties sometimes need back up."
"Of course, Ray. That's why I'm here."
That and the fact that you love her, Ray thought. Aloud, he said, "I'll see you tonight."
"All right. Good bye."
"See ya."
Ray shut off his cell phone and looked at it thoughtfully. If anyone had told him he would start liking the Dragon Lady, he would have told them they were one plum short of a fruit basket, but here he was, concerned about her physical and mental state. It made him want to laugh. He didn't get the chance though, as he heard Elaine's voice coming down the hallway. Grabbing his cup of coffee, Ray bolted in the opposite direction.
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They stood there looking at each other nervously for several moments. Fraser watched Meg shift uncomfortably and decided to take the bull by the horns.
Clearing his throat, he said, "I'll...uh...I'll go get the camera."
She nodded slightly, a tinge of red touching her cheeks. Instinctively, Ben knew she was ashamed, and the knowledge made him want to reach out and hold her. He didn't, of course, because he knew something else. Any attempt to comfort her on his part would make her think he was pitying her. Her self esteem was shattered enough as it was without her believing that.
As he went to get his camera, he studied Meg out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't think of her as The Inspector now, not when she was standing there looking like a lost child. Her eyes wandered idly over the kitchen section of his apartment and she seemed to be resisting an urge to hug herself. Diefenbaker was watching the both of them from under the table, but Meg didn't even notice him.
"I found it," he said softly.
Without a word, she came towards him, officially leaving the kitchen and entering the livingroom-bedroom. Diefenbaker followed her.
"Well," she said crisply, as if they were discussing mounds of paperwork. "Let's get started, shall we?"
He nodded, checking the film and pressing his lips together. His mind wondered who this would be harder for--him or her.
"We'll start from the back, ma'am," he said formally, trying to help her hang on to her
composure. He chose the back purposely to give her time to get used to his eyes on her before she had to face him.
Meg took off her jacket and placed it on the bed, her back to Fraser. He saw her body react to a deep breath before straightening as she squared her shoulders. His sharp ears caught something that he was sure he wasn't supposed to hear.
"You can do this."
Then Meg began to slowly undo the buttons on her blouse. Ben watched with a mixture of fascination and dread. He knew what he was about to see would add fuel to those tormenting pictures, but he had to see for himself what caused him to act in a way that might have changed his life.
It seemed to take a long time. Finally, all the buttons were undone and the fabric sighed as it slipped to the floor. She was wearing a camisole underneath--a white slip of a thing that could not hide the ugly purple mar that stained her shoulder. Carefully, as if the movement caused her pain, Meg reached up to tug it over her head. Fraser's stomach clenched and he had to stop himself from crying out, 'Dear Lord' as a wave of ice moved over his body. Dief, by his feet, let out a soft whine, so Ben shushed him. There would be no displays of sympathy.
The look away to gesture to Dief gave Fraser a moment to compose himself. He was very grateful that Meg had been unable to see his reaction when all of her pain was revealed. He knew it would take all the time he had before she faced him for him to regain his disinterested Mountie face.
Grinding his teeth, Fraser once more turned his eyes to the horrible site of her abused flesh. She was slowly taking off her pants now, as she believed leg pictures would be helpful as well.
Questions whirled through Ben's troubled mind. How many times had that man hit her? How in the hell had she managed to come back to work so soon? Meg had told him that some of the lesser bruises had faded, and it was true that here and there were brownish patches on her skin, but there was so much purple and black. Fraser felt himself begin to shake as his mind imagined her pain.
"The pictures?" she asked, causing him to remember what he was supposed to be doing.
"Three of the back, ma'am?" he replied, surprised that his voice was steady--but then, so was hers.
"Whatever you think, Fraser."
He swallowed several times, trying to get the dryness out of his mouth, before stepping forward to get a good angle. He noticed then that she was trembling, and he didn't think it was from cold. It took all he had not to reach out and caress her hurts, murmuring the words that he had recently realized he wanted to say.
"The back ones are taken, ma'am. Shall we take the leg from the side now?"
"Okay," Her voice quavered slightly, and Fraser willed strength into her.
As she turned, modestly covering her breasts with her hands, and Fraser focused his attention on her left thigh--which was mottled much like her right forearm--he thought how strange it would have seemed to him if anyone had told him that Inspector Thatcher would be in his apartment modeling for pictures in only her underwear. The thought almost amused him, and it helped to drag his mind away from the little cuts that looked to be made from shattered glass.
"Two should be sufficient."
"Yes," she agreed, and it seemed that she had her voice back under control.
He stood as she turned to face him, and he could not help but search for every hurt with his eyes. Not quite as bad as the back, which had caused a knife to go through his heart, but still terrible. The slight bruise of her cheek and the bruises on her arm had not prepared him--though the one on her collarbone had given him a clue.
Dispassionately, at least on the outside so she wouldn't know his thoughts, he took the pictures. The worst one was the one on her stomach, right under her ribs. It looked like she had been hit with a bowling ball. The sight of it was almost too much for him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to wretch or cry. He didn't dare to look in her eyes.
"I think I should get a picture of your mid section alone, ma'am," he told her, sounding confident. "It is the most obvious of all of them."
"Okay," she whispered. The soft, shaky voice had returned. He wished she wouldn't do that to him. The shifts from calm professionalism to unsure waifishness were tearing him apart.
He sat on his knees before her, adjusting the camera. Determination set his face grimly as he decided that this picture would be the one to lock that bastard away. It would be this final, heartwrenching image that no man or woman on that jury could deny. Fraser had taken the picture twice, finishing their session, when he tried to rise. With surprise, he noted that he couldn't, and that his hands were shaking so badly that he was going to drop the camera. Gently, he placed it on the floor by his knee.
"Fraser?"
He didn't say anything, just stared at his hands. Why, when they had remained steady through everything after his first strong reaction, were they shaking now?
"Are you all right?" Her voice was gentle, concerned. Concerned about him! Here she was, standing in his apartment, naked to his gaze, bearing the marks that had stolen her self respect, and she was worried that he might not be okay?
Ben forced himself to look up into her face. Now that its bruise had faded, there were no signs there of her physical pain. The emotional pain had not fared so well. It shone from her eyes, played along the self mocking of her lips and exuded from the dark hollows of sleeplessness below her eyelids.
The trembling in Fraser's hands began to spread. On his knees, he walked the few steps that separated them. Gently, as much not to scare her as not to hurt her, he reached out and caressed bruised flesh.
"It's okay," She whispered, her surprise in her voice, "It's healing."
Fraser felt them come then, starting in his belly, and he was helpless to fight them. All he could do was wrap his arms around her waist and bury his face in the deep purpleness of her skin.
"Let it go," she said, stroking his hair. "You forced me to let go, and now it's your turn."
He couldn't stop them anyway. First, it was the heaving, dry painful sobs that tried to rip his body apart. Then, mercifully, the tears followed, mingling with the sobs and cooling all the rage and hurt that were trying to drown him.
He loved her and he hadn't been able to protect her. She forgave him but he could not forgive himself. She had suffered and he hadn't known. It all came out, running down his skin and hers, salty expressions of the words he couldn't say.
Fraser had no idea how long he knelt there, clinging to her, with her tender hand in his hair. Eventually, the moment was broken by a bark from Diefenbaker. Wiping his eyes with one hand, while still holding her with the other, he turned to look at his wolf.
"I'm sorry," he said.
There was a laugh from Meg. The startling sound was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He could not recall hearing her laugh before, and the echo of it soaked into his skin and raced through his body.
"What are you apologizing to him for?"
"For doing what I told him he wasn't allowed to."
"Oh." Then after a pause, a soft, "Does your wolf really care about me?"
Ben pulled away reluctantly, going to retrieve the camera. "Why don't you ask him?"
He heard her kneel and ask, "What about it, Dief? Are we friends?"
Peeking, though he knew she had forgotten she was practically naked, he saw Diefenbaker run to her and begin licking her face. Tiny sounds of concern were coming from his throat.She sighed, burying her face in the wolf's fur. Fraser felt his heart lurch as he moved to the kitchen area to give Meg her privacy. He thought he had never been as fond of Dief as he was at that moment.
As he started to boil some water, Ben thought of the weakness he had just displayed. He felt slightly ashamed, but not as much as he would have expected. He was sure Meg would never bring it up again; she was too aware of her own slips in control to point out someone else's, but he didn't think he'd mind even if she did. Somehow his breaking down didn't feel like weakness, it felt like strength instead. He had had the courage to show her how much her pain hurt him. Maybe that's what weakness in front of those you love really was. Strength.
A warmth went over him and he suddenly felt almost happy. Meg had admitted that she completely trusted him. She had let him see what she would show no one else. Maybe this horrid experience was the beginning of something wonderful.
Fraser's mind was broken from these thoughts by Meg's appearance several minutes later. She was composed and dressed, the only sign of their unpleasant business her slightly tousled hair. Diefenbaker followed close behind her.
Ben thought she looked beautiful. He felt himself smile, his face breaking the careful mask he had put on. She smiled back almost shyly, the childlike aura still surrounding her. It made him want to hold her again--hold her and hold her and never let go.
"Would you care for some coffee?"
"That would be nice, thank you."
Though he didn't want to, Ben turned from her and poured her a cup of the brew he had heated.
"Black, sir?"
"Yes, please."
As he passed her the mug, he was pleased to see that his hands no longer shook. His eyes went from his to hers, and he noticed they trembled slightly. Tenderness made him want to stroke them, but again he pushed impulse away. He didn't want to shatter her by showing that he noticed.
"Is it hot enough, ma'am?"
She nodded, settling comfortably at the table. Despite her expensive suit, it seemed as if she belonged there. As she sipped, Diefenbaker sat at her feet. At his touch, Meg bent to absently scratch behind his ears. The wolf leaned against her legs, tongue lolling in pleasure.
She sipped slowly, her face showing she was lost in thought. Fraser watched her intently, and was surprised when she suddenly looked up and caught his gaze. Embarrassed to be caught studying her, a flush spread over his face. Without speaking, he joined her at the table.
"Eggs," she said softly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The last time I was here, you made me eggs."
"Yes, ma'am." He nodded.
"That was the day you rescued me from Henri Cloutier and I realized that I didn't have to put up with him any longer."
He didn't know how to answer this, so he just sat looking at her.
"I knew you didn't have to come and get me. You didn't really need me for the breakthrough, and you knew it too. I don't think I ever thanked you."
He started to protest, but she raised her hand. "You are a good friend, Fraser. If anything positive came out of this God forsaken posting, it's the fact that I met you. I'll probably regret saying that tomorrow, but it's the truth."
Shock went through Ben, and his mouth opened. The words were there on his tongue, his secret trying to slip out. When he realized what he was going to say, he clicked his teeth together, blocking its path. He took a short breath, then said simply, "I'm glad I met you as well."
This seemed to please her, and she touched his hand briefly before finishing the last of her coffee.
"Ray is coming tonight for the pictures?" she asked eventually.
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then I suppose you should start developing them."
He nodded.
"I..." She stopped and tilted her head a moment in thought. "I think I'll take your wolf for a walk." She knelt so that Diefenbaker could read her lips. "How about it, Dief? Would you like to walk with me?"
He sprang to his feet, doing a little dance. Meg laughed again and Fraser knew that if it hadn't already been lost, his heart would have been stolen at that moment.
"Be careful, ma'am."
Meg looked at Fraser, then at Dief. She looked thoughtful for a moment, and her voice sounded a little surprised when she answered, "I'm not afraid. Dief will keep me safe."