[If there's only one reassurance Ray can take from this, it's that he won't be losing Fraser. The Mountie had made it abundantly clear ever since they first met that wives and husbands come and go, but partners are forever, as if Ray hadn't already heard enough tales of Fraser's father and Buck and whoever else there was. It's touching though, to have Fraser even think to stop and reassure Ray when he had a million other responsibilities and speeches to remember for the day. One such responsibility shows up fairly swiftly in the form of Vecchio, and Ray's perfectly fine with being blanked because if he had to talk face to face with the guy, he isn't sure he'd manage to resist punching him square in the face and giving him a shiner just in time for the ceremony.
It's the usual wedding rush to get to the church on time and have everyone settled. Ray parts ways as soon as he's able to, leaving Fraser to have that last moment with his old partner and give Kowalski enough chance to find the most unobtrusive seat he can find with easy access to the exit. The second he'd seen the church, he knew him being there had been a dumb idea. Why the hell did he ever think showing up to his ex-wife's wedding would be at all appropriate? He supposes part of him wanted to see whether it was real, whether she really was going to marry the very man he'd been covering for for far too long, but the idea of her not doing so was pure wishful thinking on his behalf. And now he sat in a beautiful church with decoration that far outshone anything he'd seen before, and all he wanted to do was smash his fist straight through the pew in front of him.
His and Stella's wedding hadn't been anything near as fancy as this, both of them financially unstable at the time and both with family issues running across the board. They'd opted for a small church ceremony more out of tradition than anything to do with faith, because Stella had wanted that white wedding that so many kids dreamt of. If she hadn't been satisfied with theirs, she was certainly getting what she wanted this time around with an obvious monetary support from both the families.
He couldn't even look at her when she came down the aisle, the brief glance he spared making him jam his jaw shut and quickly drop his gaze to the ground. She was beautiful. Just like the day they married, that blonde hair, pale skin and white dress giving her something of an ethereal feel that matched the dream like state his mind was drifting in and out of. This wasn't for him. This was for some other asshole standing up front looking smug as anything as he takes Kowalski's woman away from him. Soon she wouldn't even have the name Kowalski and it'd be like that last little bit of him finally erased from her life forever.
Although barely even listening and certainly not partaking in the hymns, Ray still has his breaking point. He doesn't even make it anywhere close to the vows, the mention of this happily ever after with children enough to have him stalking silently out, wholly ashamed of himself as he does so. He didn't belong here. He shouldn't be there. Thank fuck that only one bored looking distant aunt of Stella's noticed him up and leave, because the last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene and highlight just how much of a fucking loser he was. Don't mind him. He's just the stupid ex losing his wife to some smug Italian.
The moment he's outside his fist is finding solace against the solid wall of the church, slamming so hard against it that it's a miracle he didn't break anything on impact. It hurts though. It hurts a lot. But it doesn't do the job of covering the wrenching heartache he's feeling. He's not even sure when the tears started, but they're there, messily tumbling down his cheeks as he nurses his hand and swears repeatedly to himself as if it'll somehow help. It doesn't. The walk and the cigarettes (ten of them), however, do help. Enough to get him breathing deeply with each lungful of smoke and keeping his distance enough to avoid hearing every single fucking hymn and mumbled speech. He walks the gardens because they're nice, but he takes in absolutely none of his surroundings, only noticing an end to the ceremony thanks to a sudden cacophony of excited chatter as two families spill out into the open.
Still he keeps his distance, avoiding the families and friends and work colleagues, too many familiar faces all with a knowledge of his failures with the bride. He's thankful his mother couldn't attend.]
Pretty sure that's my job.
[He sees the whole thing from his little hiding spot down the side of the church, the sole witness to the bright red Mountie vaulting for it and gracefully chucking in neatly trimmed bushes. He'd be lying if he didn't admit he was just a tiny bit glad to see he wasn't the only one suffering, even if he had no wish to see his partner not enjoying himself.
While he does approach, he doesn't move to help, leaving Fraser to sort himself out without making a fuss of the situation. The Mountie can take care of himself, and Ray's too busy finishing off his current smoke that's nearing the end of it's life.]
no subject
It's the usual wedding rush to get to the church on time and have everyone settled. Ray parts ways as soon as he's able to, leaving Fraser to have that last moment with his old partner and give Kowalski enough chance to find the most unobtrusive seat he can find with easy access to the exit. The second he'd seen the church, he knew him being there had been a dumb idea. Why the hell did he ever think showing up to his ex-wife's wedding would be at all appropriate? He supposes part of him wanted to see whether it was real, whether she really was going to marry the very man he'd been covering for for far too long, but the idea of her not doing so was pure wishful thinking on his behalf. And now he sat in a beautiful church with decoration that far outshone anything he'd seen before, and all he wanted to do was smash his fist straight through the pew in front of him.
His and Stella's wedding hadn't been anything near as fancy as this, both of them financially unstable at the time and both with family issues running across the board. They'd opted for a small church ceremony more out of tradition than anything to do with faith, because Stella had wanted that white wedding that so many kids dreamt of. If she hadn't been satisfied with theirs, she was certainly getting what she wanted this time around with an obvious monetary support from both the families.
He couldn't even look at her when she came down the aisle, the brief glance he spared making him jam his jaw shut and quickly drop his gaze to the ground. She was beautiful. Just like the day they married, that blonde hair, pale skin and white dress giving her something of an ethereal feel that matched the dream like state his mind was drifting in and out of. This wasn't for him. This was for some other asshole standing up front looking smug as anything as he takes Kowalski's woman away from him. Soon she wouldn't even have the name Kowalski and it'd be like that last little bit of him finally erased from her life forever.
Although barely even listening and certainly not partaking in the hymns, Ray still has his breaking point. He doesn't even make it anywhere close to the vows, the mention of this happily ever after with children enough to have him stalking silently out, wholly ashamed of himself as he does so. He didn't belong here. He shouldn't be there. Thank fuck that only one bored looking distant aunt of Stella's noticed him up and leave, because the last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene and highlight just how much of a fucking loser he was. Don't mind him. He's just the stupid ex losing his wife to some smug Italian.
The moment he's outside his fist is finding solace against the solid wall of the church, slamming so hard against it that it's a miracle he didn't break anything on impact. It hurts though. It hurts a lot. But it doesn't do the job of covering the wrenching heartache he's feeling. He's not even sure when the tears started, but they're there, messily tumbling down his cheeks as he nurses his hand and swears repeatedly to himself as if it'll somehow help. It doesn't. The walk and the cigarettes (ten of them), however, do help. Enough to get him breathing deeply with each lungful of smoke and keeping his distance enough to avoid hearing every single fucking hymn and mumbled speech. He walks the gardens because they're nice, but he takes in absolutely none of his surroundings, only noticing an end to the ceremony thanks to a sudden cacophony of excited chatter as two families spill out into the open.
Still he keeps his distance, avoiding the families and friends and work colleagues, too many familiar faces all with a knowledge of his failures with the bride. He's thankful his mother couldn't attend.]
Pretty sure that's my job.
[He sees the whole thing from his little hiding spot down the side of the church, the sole witness to the bright red Mountie vaulting for it and gracefully chucking in neatly trimmed bushes. He'd be lying if he didn't admit he was just a tiny bit glad to see he wasn't the only one suffering, even if he had no wish to see his partner not enjoying himself.
While he does approach, he doesn't move to help, leaving Fraser to sort himself out without making a fuss of the situation. The Mountie can take care of himself, and Ray's too busy finishing off his current smoke that's nearing the end of it's life.]