Bittersweet Revenge
Fraser had lost all will to live. I t had been 2 months since Maegan had been savagely killed, and Fraser had not returned to work at all. people had tried everything to break his rut, but all to no avail. He sat, crouched in his apartment, listless and dead to the world; he had a distinct growth of beard, and he was dirty. Diefenbaker had temporarily adopted the Vecchio clan, until his friend got back on his feet again. Ray was at a loss. Meg, Frannie, Huey and Louis, as well as Lft. Welsh had all tired to cheer up the mountie. Nothing worked. Fraser's condition echoed what he had said to Walter during his stay in the mental hospital: "My mother died, and my father stopped living."
One day, unexpectedly, Fraser showed up in the bullpen, in his red serge duds, clean shaved and alert again. "Fraser!!" Ray looked up from his paperwork and got up to meet his friend. "Hi, Ray." "How're you feeling?" asked Ray cautiously "You're not going to go on a murderous rampage, are you?" Ray half-joked. Fraser chuckled softly. "No Ray. I've come to terms with Maegan's death. I'm fine." Ray breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Welcome back." Fraser smiled. "You ready for action again?" "Absolutely." "Great. I could use your help. Come on." The twosome headed out together, as Lft. Welsh looked on approvingly.
The Riv raced down the street, answering a call about a burglar in a house whose alarm had gone off. They arrived at their destination within 2 minutes, Fraser leaping out of the car before it managed to screech to a complete top. Ray was close behind, and Dief, ecstatically bringing up the rear. They bust into the house, surprising a man clad in black, holding a knife in his hand. The man spun around angrily. Fraser's mouth fell open and he stood there, shocked. "You..." he said in a voice that made Ray's hair stand on end. "You... It's you... You son of a bitch!! I'll kill you!" screamed Fraser as he raced towards the man, easily wresting the knife out of his hand. Ray raced after Fraser, afraid for the attacker's safety. "Fraser!" Fraser spun the man around and pressed the knife to his throat. "Say it." he growled. "I don't know what y ou're talking about." returned the attacker. The knife pressed harder. "Say it." hissed Fraser. "Fraser, drop the knife." No response. "Fraser, DROP the knife. " Ray said more forcefully. Still nothing. "Say it." Ray had had enough. He pulled out his gun. "Fraser, DROP the KNIFE!!" Fraser started shaking from emotion. "I just want him to say , Ray." "Say what? I ain't done nothin' wrong!" growled the attacker/attacked. "Say you killed her. Say you killed my wife." Ray looked up, astonished. "Who?" asked the attacker. "Say you killed my wife, Maegan." The attacker thought for a moment "Oh, yeah, Maegan. Cute girl. Yeah, I killed her." Fraser's grip on the knife loosened. "What?" "I killed her. Happy?" Fraser lowered the knife. "Thank you." He whispered. He handed the man over to Ray, who cuffed him. As everyone left the house, Ray turned to Fraser and put an arm on his friend's shoulder. "You o.k?" Fraser wiped away a tear. "Yeah, Ray. Thanks."