Fandom: due South
Word Count: 300 words (snippet!)
He doesn't say that he loves him, not with words, but the set of his shoulders forms a curved line of emotion and the way he twists his hands indicates tense anticipation. So she knows how he feels. Can trace the lines of his face as if they were each day they've spent together. The clinically set walls of the hospital waiting room make him look paler than usual. They accentuate the grey in his eyes, and the blue of his pallor. And the way he leans forward casts a shadow on the wall, looming in promise of menace. He sits waiting, apparently patiently, but really not patiently at all. His only movement comes from a shallow intake of breath, a flittering of eyes, and those hands still twisting, fingers stretching and flexing under halogen light.
Perhaps he stopped thinking about it a long time ago - has drifted off into his inner consiousness - is recalling the first day they met, when he tried to convince Fraser he was her brother and Fraser didn't exactly play along. Or he's remembering writing the first letter to her from Canada, all scrawled and spider-like, congratulating her on six beautiful babies, all perfect. Quite possibly he hasn't stopped thinking about it at all. He's replaying Fraser falling down, deep into the crevasse, just as he described it to her, frenetic and repetitive and full of anguish.
She doesn't know. All she knows is that she’s here and this time, she won't be regarded as a foolish hindrance, or another piece of furniture in the unused guest room, but someone who's been there in support when she was needed most. And even though everything will be all right, because Fraser’s a superhero and even Ray knows it, she’s glad that she’s here today.