Duty

A. Kite (June 2006)

Pairing: Bob/Caroline (Fraser)

Rating: Totally gen

Notes: Written for xenocract and the Out of Con.txt Live Journal Community with the prompt:

Prompt #7 - Bob/Caroline, "I don't see what you want me to do about it."

Bob Fraser and his wife argued. Argued quite a lot, in fact. She'd tell him, "Bob, please. Your son needs you. I need you," when he wouldn't even take the time at home that Mountie was entitled to.

He'd say, "Duty, Caroline. I'm a Mountie. You knew I was a Mountie when you married me. I don't see what you want me to do about it."

She always subsided. Stopped her tirade and watched her husband pull on his boots and parka. She watched him leave their cabin in pursuit of his duty. Until the morning it happened. As their son still slept, a man they trusted, a man that had sat at their table many, many times betrayed their trust. He shot Caroline Fraser dead, and her husband didn't know what to do.

Their son, Benton, only six years old, never understood what had happened. He only knew that his mother was gone, and his father was there. There, but different. His father no longer answered his questions, and he no longer pulled on his boots and parka to go to work. Ben had to do almost everything. He put on his little boots, hat, gloves and parka to go out and bring in wood for the stove. It was hard work. Ben had to remind his father that it was mealtime, and he was hungry. His father would stir himself enough to make something for Ben to eat as he, himself, grew thinner and thinner.

People came to visit, but only stayed a little while. One of the visitors was Inspector Fenwick, Bob Fraser's supervisor. He brought supplies. Food, and he even remembered to bring a treat for the youngster. The fresh bananas were a luxury, one that Ben loved. The inspector patted Ben's father on the shoulder and told him, "Take all the time you need, Bob." He patted Ben, too, on the head as he took his leave.

A few days later they had another visitor, Buck Frobisher. He scared Benton with his loud voice and shouting, "Look at you, Bob! You look like Moses with that beard! Get yourself up and do something! Are you going to let Caroline's killer get away?"

Bob Fraser's only reply was, "I don't see what you want me to do about it."

"Do about it! Do about it! My God, man, anything is better than sitting here doing nothing!"

"But, Benton. Who'll take care of the boy?"

Frobisher snorted, "Looks to me like he's been taking care of you and not doing that very well," as he looked around the messy cabin. Ben took affront to that. Okay, maybe he wasn't very good at cleaning, not as good as his mother, but he'd tried. At the thought of his mother, Ben started to cry. Instead of being impatient with him or ignoring him, Buck picked him up and tried to comfort him. Buck carried Ben over to his bed and tucked him in.

The next morning when Ben woke up, Buck Frobisher was gone, but his father was there. The beard was gone, and his father was dressed in his Mountie uniform. There was food on the table; oatmeal with the last of the bananas sliced on top. He scrambled up to his chair, and his father said, "Eat quickly, son and then get dressed. We have to go," as tears rolled down his face.

Ben did as he was told. He wanted to ask where they were going, but didn't. His father never answered his questions anymore. He watched as his father pulled on his boots and parka as he did the same. They went outside where the sled was packed and ready.

Bob Fraser was alive again and had a purpose. He'd hunt down the man that had taken his Caroline from him. He'd hunt him down and kill him. But first, he had to get Benton to his parents. The boy would be fine there.

From a Hawk and a Handsaw:

Fraser: Maybe it would have been. You know, my mother died when I was very young. I don't remember a lot about that time except...except my father's beard. I don't remember him crying or talking about her. I just woke up one morning and I noticed he had a beard, and it kept getting longer and longer and he got thinner and he stopped going to work. My mother died and my father stopped living. And then one morning I woke up and there was a breakfast waiting for me at the table. Oatmeal and uh, sliced banana. And he was clean-shaven and he was crying.