Divest

Notes: Thanks to Erica and Erika for comments.

Everything good in here comes from an Oysterband song called "Milford Haven". Sometimes the Mountie needs transcendance.

They belong to Alliance.

Fraser finished packing without turning on a light in their apartment. There wasn't much to take: Only what he'd first brought to Chicago. Less, really. The city had stripped him of many of his possessions and what he'd acquired here wouldn't be practical where he was going. His pack was light, just the necessities for the trip.

Diefenbaker whined from his post by to the door. He was ready, had been ready for months.

Fraser wandered back into the bedroom, watched his partner sleep. He swallowed, feeling -- not quite grief, but close. Not quite joy, but close. He leaned over Ray, touched the scars on his body, feather-traced the veins beneath his skin. Ray didn't even stir.

It felt so right to leave Ray sleeping that his head began to spin.

He faced the door, unmoving, ignoring Diefenbaker's impatience, for a one long moment. In the end, they climbed through the window onto the fire escape. Fraser closed the window, glad that he couldn't lock it, not when it separated him from Ray and the years they'd spent together. He left no letter. What he felt he couldn't say, what you don't say no one hears.

He was going home.

He hefted his pack once they were on the street, called to Diefenbaker and started walking. North.

North, under the streetlamps of the sleeping city, to Lakeshore Drive. Across the park. Through the trees he could make out the Lake, light from the full moon gilding the waves.

Diefenbaker had been right after all -- his pack was excess baggage. He abandoned it on the jogging trail, propped tidily against a trashcan. He climbed over the waterfront railing. The first gray touches of predawn light filtered across the water now.

The wind was in his face, fresh and cold from his home. He stepped out into the sunrise and found that he could fly. And when he felt his wings unfold, the heavy boots and the Mountie badge fell away like melting stone.

The water sparkled below him, left and right. Diefenbaker barked. Somewhere north of the Lakes their path began to climb.

He saw the moon over the Hudson Bay, stars in a flaming sky, he was grinning. They were heading for the Yukon.

They might be gone some time.

END

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