The following is the story I wrote about the tv show " Due South". All characters, names, titles, and all other related items are property of Alliance and CBS. I did not create them; however, this following story is mine. I wrote it and the main plot idea is mine. Please ask permission before you use it for any purpose other than reading.
**************************************************************************************************** Foreward

This story contains violence, and a few mild swear words. Comments are welcome, if they're nice.
**************************************************************************************************** "It Only Happens To Those Other People"

Ashley Calvert
**************************************************************************************************** Part One

"Vecchio! Get your butt in here!"

It was a cold day in Chicago that afternoon. Detective Ray Vecchio had just returned from his lunch break at a cheap coffee shop with no warmth. Inside the Chicago PD building, the air was stiff and rigid. Ray popped his head into Lt. Welsh's office.

"Sir?" Ray answered. The Lieutenant's face was hard.

"Sit down, Vecchio." Ray sunk down in the hard wooden chair facing directly towards Welsh's desk. He didn't really seem angry. He almost seemed kind of forgiving.....almost.

"Vecchio, I've been examining your work on the Asher case." He squinted his eyes and paused in his conversation. Ray took the chance to jump in.

"Sir, I know I haven't been working my best recently, but-"

The Lt. butted in. "Vecchio, you're off the case." Welsh remained firm, but he didn't look Ray in the eyes.

"I'm off the case," Ray repeated in disbelief.

"Vecchio-I'm not finished." Ray lifted his head. He hated that tone that Welsh got, that bad-news-bearing tone. "I'm suggesting a leave of absence for you." Ray's eyes saddened, but the rest of his face was swept with fury. He stood up and repeated Welsh's words.

"A leave of absence." He didn't feel right. He briefly felt slightly dizzy, like he was dreaming. He was silent.

"Vecchio, you've been working under a lot of stress....." Ray turned away from him in anger. "Maybe some time off until-"

He couldn't finish his sentence. He was interrupted by Ray slamming his door shut.
**************************************************************************************************** Part Two

Ray sat alone on his bed in his bedroom late that afternoon. He still wasn't sure how to feel or how to act. No one else was home; his mother and sister had gone to the mall, his brother had headed for a Bulls game-a Bulls game Ray could have gone to but didn't. He was supposed to be working on the Asher case instead.

It had been a kind of stressful period for Ray, but he had no idea other people had noticed as well. It was getting close to the evening and Ray had no plans, no dinner, and no one around to talk to. He was alone.

Alone. The word rang through his head like a firebell. Instead of breaking down and crying like the sissy he wasn't, he picked up the phone and dialled Fraser's number. It rang ten times, and no one picked up. Ray set the phone back down and glanced at his watch. It was 5: 07. No one would be back home for a couple of hours.

Frustrated, Ray picked up the car keys to his '67 Riviera and left.
**************************************************************************************************** Part Three

Benton Fraser had gone grocery shopping in a convenience store near his block. He returned to his apartment promptly at 5:30, just in time to feed his loyal wolf, Diefenbaker. He set his two paper grocery bags down on the table, took a plate of cooked hamburger out of his refrigerator, and dumped the plates contents into Dief's food bowl. After putting away his bag of groceries, Fraser sat down at his tiny kitchen table and called Ray at work. No answer. He dialled Ray's cell phone. Ray had left the phone at his house, so again, there was no answer. Fraser stirred around uncomfortably. Ray always carried his cell phone with him.....
**************************************************************************************************** Part Four

Ray had driven himself far away from his house. He felt so frustrated. It had been three months since Fraser was released from the hospital. He recalled it painfully. It was nine months ago that bitch had come to take Fraser out of Chicago, out of his life. Nine months since Victoria Metcalfe had broken Fraser's heart. Nine months since Fraser had been shot. Shot by Ray, his best friend.

Ray cringed. he shifted around on his stool. He raised his head in sorrow and ordered one more scotch. He had driven himself right into a bar. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and noticed his watch: it was 11:00 already. Gulping his booze, he silently cursed at himself. Leave of absence. A damn leave of absence. His glass was empty again. He'd had too many. He knew it, too. Or, he realized it as he staggered into the men's room. He kept trying to tell himself he was drunk. It was like his body knew it but his mind wouldn't believe it.

He needed to call somebody. Not home. His mother always worried when he was home late, the shock of her baby boy being stuck, drunk at a bar, would hurt her too much. He didn't want to leave the Riv there overnight, but he knew he couldn't drive home. He was going to get a cab, but it struck him that he only had a few bucks left. Not enough to get a cab.

Fraser! He'd call Fraser, that was it.

Ray reached into his pocket.

"Oh no, my phone!" he cried out loud. He didn't realize he'd left it behind. "Somebody stole it!"

Depressed, he used a pay phone and called Fraser. Fraser was quite relieved and agreed to come and get him right away.

Ray was too intoxicated to think clearly. He knew his friend would be coming in a yellow taxi. Sure enough, he saw a yellow taxi. Many of them. And because of what seemed like a hundred scotches, he saw double of all the yellow taxis.

He was sure he saw Fraser in one of them. It had to be. It was a cab on the other side of the street- a very busy street. He had to make it to Benny.

He stepped off the curb into the road. All he could see next was a pair of blinding white headlights. There was a loud horn blast and a screeching sound, then nothing. Ray laid motionless is the middle of it all.
**************************************************************************************************** Part Five

Fraser arrived in front of the bar soon after the ambulance did. He was greeted with bright red and blue flashing lights, and paramedics all around. Fraser pushed past a crowd of people who were all barricaded off the center. He immediately felt mild sympathy towards the unfortunate person in the center, although he wanted to get a closer look. As the paramedics turned over the unconscious man lying in the street, Fraser saw who it was. He went pale.

"Ray!" he shouted over the noise. "Ray!" the mountie pushed all the way through into the middle, next to the ambulance. He repeated Ray's name, but he was frightened and not completely sure how to handle himself. A woman in a black paramedic uniform quickly approached Fraser.

"Is this your friend?" Fraser nodded, not taking his eyes off Ray.

"Yes ma'am."

"Alright. Do you want to ride in the ambulance?" she questioned delicately. The uniformed people lifted his friend onto a stretcher.


Fraser made sure not to be in anyone's way as he boarded the ambulance. The doors shut closed, and Fraser heard sirens blaring away outside. His heart pounded.

Next to him, the uniformed men were sticking all kinds of tubes and needles into Ray. There was a gash on the top of his head which one man was trying to cover with a cloth, already partly soaked in blood.

As another paramedic moved aside, Fraser noticed something else. Ray's leg was broken, badly. There was blood- it was too much blood. Fraser made himself look away.

"What happened?" he asked with dead seriousness. The same woman he'd talked to before answered him, without looking up.

"Your buddy here's unbelievably drunk. Tried to cross the street and got hit by a car going full speed."

Fraser winced. It didn't seem real. It was always especially hard for him when these things happened- which they frequently did, partly because they were cops, and also some bad luck. It was supposed to be on of those mishaps that only happened to "those other people".

The ambulance pulled into the hospital. Immediately, all the paramedics hopped out and pulled out the stretcher. Fraser followed them all the way into the building, until a woman stopped him and told him he had to stay in the waiting room. Reluctantly, Fraser anxiously sat down. He stayed awake and alert the entire night.
**************************************************************************************************** Part Six

Fraser had taken upon himself the unpleasant task of calling Ray's family and telling them of his accident. He decided that the less he told Frannie and Mrs. Vecchio, the less hysterical Frannie would be driving to the hospital. He had conveniently forgot to mention that Ray had been stiff drunk, and also that his knee was bending at a very unnatural angle.

Fran and Ray's mother rushed into the emergency room, looking terrified. Fran, wearing a very short fluorescent pink skirt and a tight black short sleeved shirt, ran to Fraser in panic.

"Oh my gawd, Ben, what happened?" she screeched. Fraser gestured for the two of them to sit down. Mrs. Vecchio obliged, while Frannie sat nearly in Fraser's lap and clinging to his arm.

"Ray was hit by a car," he said rather bluntly. Francesca's eyes widened, although she already knew that much.

"Is he going to be all right?" Mrs. Vecchio put in. "Where is he?"

"I don't know where he is. I'm sure he's going to be just fine," Fraser said, doubting his own quiet words.

"You were in the ambulance, weren't you Benton?" Fran asked, not releasing her grip from his elbow. "What did he look like?"

Fraser looked down. He really didn't want to say anything just then. He did like Fran, and Mrs. Vecchio.....but he just wanted to be left alone. And he didn't want to give details of his poor friend's injuries.

"His head was bleeding."

"That's it?" Mrs. Vecchio asked him. Fraser nodded. "Then he is going to be all right. Fran breathed a sigh of relief. She did want to know what time it was, though, so she consequently released her grip on Fraser's arm. She looked at her cheap pink watch, which she had made sure to match with her skirt. It was almost 3:30 AM.

"Benton," Mrs. Vecchio said after a long pause, "how?"


"Yes, how. How did he get to be in front of a speeding car?" she queried. Fraser blinked hard. It was another question he didn't want to answer, another subject he didn't want to discuss. He quickly contemplated in his head whether or not to tell the truth.

"Ray-" he began. "Ray was drunk." Fraser looked Mrs. Vecchio in the eyes, very softly. She clasped her hand over her mouth. Francesca's mouth hung open. All three of them were silent for a long time. Then Mrs. Vecchio got up and left the two of them in the waiting room. She didn't say a word. Another ten minutes or so passed by.

"You know Fraser," Frannie said quietly, "when Ray wakes up....she's going to kill him." Fraser laughed, but still didn't feel anything but pain. "I'm going to go find some coffee, do you want some?" she asked him.

"No, thank you, Francesca." She nodded, glancing once more at his beautiful face, then left her seat.

More time passed. It was almost 4:00 in the morning and the three sat in the waiting room, not reading magazines, not conversing in any way, only thinking softly to themselves. Francesca seemed rather sleepy, and would occasionally rest her head on Fraser's shoulder, thinking that was very subtle and he would not catch on to her mild flirting. Mrs. Vecchio sat forward in her chair, and was showing a multitude of emotions. She felt anger at her son, as well as caring that came hand in hand with her natural motherly instincts. Fraser just stared at the magazine table in front of him, emotionless on the outside. On the inside he, too, felt many things. He wanted his friend to be fine. He wanted for everything to be fine, wishing the whole damn night never even occurred. Another five minutes blurred by, seeming like hours.

Then, a woman dressed in a hospital uniform approached them.

"Excuse me, are you the family of Raymond Vecchio?" she asked them. They immediately snapped out of their dazes. She pronounced Vecchio as Ve-chee- oh, and Fraser was not part of the family. But, too weary to correct her, they just nodded.

"Well you can see him now, if you want. Only two visitors at a time, though, please." Fraser, Mrs. Vecchio, and Fran looked at each other, and silently agreed that Fran and Mrs. Vecchio would go. Fraser rested his cheek on his fist and sat back in his chair. Waiting.
**************************************************************************************************** Part Seven

Fran opened the door to Ray's room. He was not as fine as Fraser had promised them, but she was eager to see her brother. Mrs. Vecchio and Fran tiptoed to the side of his bed, leaning on the bedrail. Ray's head had a white bandage on it, which looked like it had been previously bleeding. His leg, however, had also been bleeding. It was set in a bandage over his knee, and there was a brace that ran from his shin to his thigh. They realized his leg was broken.

There was an iv bag that was connected to his arm, and an oxygen tube that ran from his nostrils behind his head. Frannie smiled gently at him. His eyes were closed.

"Hey, Ray." she pushed his arm gently. "Ray." Mrs. Vecchio remained silent, staring at Ray. He stirred, but didn't seem to wake up. "Ray!" she whispered. He stirred some more, then his eyelids slowly opened. He seemed a little flustered, but otherwise content.

"Hey, Frannie..." he whispered back hoarsely, then smiled back at her. "Hi, Ma." his voice was very quiet.

Frannie was looking for something to say, but all the words she had thought of before seemed to vanish before they reached her lips.

"So....does it hurt?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Ray nodded. "Yeah."

"Can I get you anything?" she asked him. He was pretty drowsy. What he wanted was a nice warm bed. But he shook his head. "Ok," she whispered. She smiled at him again. "I'll be in the waiting room if you want me." He looked at her warmly as she closed the door behind her.

"How you doing, Ma?" he asked. She looked up at his face, not smiling. He knew that she knew. His stomach turned. His leg killed, his head pained him....but it didn't hurt as much as seeing his own mother so sad.

"Oh Ray," she said. Neither of them spoke, only sort of looking at one another. The room became silent.

"I'm sorry, Ma."
**************************************************************************************************** Part Eight

Fraser knocked lightly on the door, and then allowed himself into Ray's room. He was surprised to see Ray had the entire room to himself, as small as it was. Just like Francesca and Mrs. Vecchio, he approached Ray's bed and placed his hands on the bedrail. Ray smiled when he saw him, though he was still pretty drowsy.

"Hey, Benny," he murmured, speaking in a very slow, quiet tone. Fraser only stood, pleased to see Ray in his, well...aliveliness.

"Hi, Ray." For some reason, whenever Ray spoke softly, the people around him spoke softly too. Ray looked away. He was thankful to still have his life. He felt slightly embarrassed, to have experienced such a horrible self-inflicted injury. Ray wanted to say something, but the precise words wouldn't come out. Fraser looked at him expectantly.

"It was my fault, Fraser." Ray was still staring in the opposite direction of Fraser, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Ray, don't say that," Fraser said comfortingly. Technically it was a lie, but he didn't know what else to say.

"It was, Benny. That was a dumbass thing to do." Ray looked up at Fraser's face. His eyes were semi-bloodshot, and he needed a shave. Fraser looked like he hadn't slept all night......because he hadn't. "And you know what's worse," Ray continued on.


"It's not the first time that's happened to me," Ray said, chuckling. The two of them laughed.

"I don't think there was alcohol involved, the last time a car smashed into you," Fraser added. Ray sighed, and stared down at his feet.

"So," Fraser started, "can I get you anything?"

"A new leg."

"Anything else?"

"More painkillers. Lots more painkillers." Fraser grinned. He knew that Ray would be fine. They glanced at each other once more, then Fraser opened the door to leave.

"And Benny?" Fraser stopped in his tracks.

"Yes, Ray?"

"Thanks," Ray stated.

"For what, Ray?" One of Fraser's eyebrows raised itself in muddlement.

"For everything." Fraser nodded and closed the door behind him.
**************************************************************************************************** Backward

Ray returned home from the hospital a week later. His mother forgave him and his sister pampered him with chicken soup and painkillers, which he was more than thankful for.

A month and a half later he returned back to work, on metal crutches and with a large brace on his leg, but otherwise content. The Asher case had concluded itself, and because of his handicap Ray was forced behind his desk for another month. He was still glad to be back at work, though.

Ray was ashamed to have been so blindly stupid. He swore to himself he'd never do it again.

It wasn't worth it.

The End