November 2003: Five years after Steps, I finally figure out how to let Fraser respond to Ellen Carter's letter. Post-Recovery, Season 2/3. Thanks to Celli, for letting me use her laptop when the muse attacked. A Path Back by C. L. Kamnikar copyright 2003 September 17, 1997 Ellen Carter Joliet Women's Correctional Facility Joliet, ILL 67605 Dear Ms. Carter, Firstly, I feel I must apologize for not answering your letter sooner. I realize that you stated that you did not expect an answer to your apology, but I felt that your honesty, and even bravery, in writing to me deserved an equally honest response. I can only say that my delay was caused not by any wish to avoid writing to you, but a simple inability to give you what I felt was an adequate answer. After five weeks of consideration, I have decided that there is no perfect letter, no easy explanation, and that I owe you the best answer I can give you, no matter how incomplete and unsatisfying it may be. Congratulations on achieving over a year's worth of sobriety. I know that this could not have been as easy as you make it sound, despite your protestations that life in prison is simpler than life outside of institutional walls-- especially in light of your recent losses. To persevere when there are rewards to be gained is admirable; but to persevere when the only benefit is intangible, and perhaps unappreciated by anyone else, requires more strength and self-knowledge than most people possess. I admire your determination. That said, I should also tell you that you that accepting your apology is not difficult. As you noted, I understood your motivations at the time, and in doing so, I can not hold you fully accountable for the outcome. In fact, your accidental shooting of Ray led to a reconciliation between us over difficulties which I had previously believed to be almost insurmountable. Strangely, your actions could almost be regarded as doing us a favor. Since Ray has suffered no lasting ill effects, and has often said that he blames me, Michael Gonzales, and the late Mr. Ramirez for the confrontation as well as you, I would be extremely remiss in bearing any further animosity toward you. Equally, your thanks for attempting to stop you are also accepted, with no other debt owed. In helping you, I have to confess that I was exorcising my own demons as well; I only regret that I wasn't able to be of more help, sooner. It seems, upon re-reading what I have written so far, that you are not the only one who finds it difficult to address painful issues directly. You asked me a question, and I have done everything but answer it. Perhaps because I don't know the answer myself. You asked me: how did I deal with it? How did I endure the betrayal of someone who claimed to love me, without killing them, myself, or someone else? I could over-simplify, and say that I was not dealing with my situation while also attempting to cope with a drug abuse problem. I could also state that I had the support of friends who understood my predicament, and stood by me when I was in the direst straits. I could say that in my situation, I was prevented from harming myself or anyone else by the circumstances which placed me in hospital at the time we met. All of these would be true. But to leave my explanation at that point would verge upon lying, since while those conditions contributed to my recovery, they were not the deciding factor. Truthfully, I think the only difference between my case and yours may be that Ray shot me before I could do anything to irrevocably alter my life. You were right: there was someone. A woman I knew from long ago. The first betrayal was mine. Does that surprise you? I betrayed her trust, my feelings, and any mercy owed to her, because I was young and afraid, both of how I felt about her, and of the possible consequences of actions taken outside of the strict rules I lived by at that time. I always knew there would be a reckoning for the choices I made then. I hoped - I prayed - that I'd have a chance to make things right with her. When she came back into my life, I thought that I could erase the mistakes of the past. Of course, such things are impossible. When she later took what she felt to be an entirely justified revenge, she also manipulated circumstances such that I had another choice: leave my life behind and join her on the run, or let her exit my life a second time, probably forever. Even after she hurt my friends, people who had been like family to me, even after almost making me lose all of the professional respect, trust, and friendships I had built in my life, I couldn't let her go. I think you may understand that. So... I chose to go with her. The next thing I knew, I was lying in the hospital, a gunshot wound in my back, and she had disappeared without a trace. I still don't know where she is. I believe I never will. I had to face the fact that I could never resolve the betrayals between us; that I'd never see her again. That I'd let down my friends, almost walked away from a career and calling I deeply believed in, all to chase a dream that may have always been unattainable, and a woman who may have loved me but who I would never have been able to completely trust. I know that dark place you were in, when you were faced with your lover's blackmail and lies. The realization that not only have you been betrayed, but that you have betrayed yourself: conspired in your own destruction willingly, for a feeling you can not put into words. Days went by during my recovery, and I barely noticed. I dreamed of her, heard her voice, felt her touch in my sleep, and woke up wondering why I bothered. Perhaps this is... familiar to you. Then slowly, other people pulled me to safety. Especially Ray, who visited even on days when I couldn't bear to speak to him. Jill, my physical therapist, who forced me to move and heal and address life beyond my stay in hospital. Diefenbaker-- my wolf, you probably remember him rushing at you out of a closet-- who simply refused to leave me alone. And you. This may sound insane, or inexplicable, but your difficulties sparked my interest, and gave me something to think about outside of myself. You bear the vaguest resemblance to the woman with whom I was involved, you see. The chance likeness which caught my attention led to concern, as Dief and I observed your activities (regrettable invasion of privacy though this was). Jill's insistence that you needed our help forced me to think when I was desperately avoiding thought, as well as avoiding facing my own responsibility for my part in the debacle that almost ruined my life. When I spoke to you at gunpoint in the hospital corridor, it was with full awareness that my intervention might be futile, that you might lash out at me for trying to help. The woman I loved would not have been persuaded; I had no reason to believe you might be. I hadn't listened to Ray, to my fellow officers, to memories of the past, when faced with that same choice between emotion and honor. I knew you had already killed Ramirez. I only hoped you would not have more to regret if I could say something to convince you to let Michael Gonzales go. I did not fail to destroy myself because I was wiser, or saner, or stronger than you. I was, perhaps, more fortunate; more people were aware of the danger I was in. Had the bullet which prevented my flight been one inch higher or lower, I would have died for my bad choices. Had it missed me entirely, I would be a thousand miles away, living a life that I now know I couldn't help but regret and hate, cut off from everything that makes me who I am. This is the only answer I can give you, about how I avoided the worst consequences for loving and betraying, and being betrayed by, the one I loved. It does get better, Ms. Carter. Especially if you let others help. If you can learn to trust people again, you can learn to trust yourself, and believe that your good choices carry as much weight as the unwise, destructive ones. Lastly: a very belated thank you. For your letter, for your concern, and for allowing me to help. It's very rare that I ever learn how those I have had a hand in arresting cope with the aftermath. Hearing that your life still holds promise gives me another reason to keep trying to make a difference. Please don't hesitate to write to me again in the future. I hope that my answer has in some small way addressed your concerns. Yours truly, Benton Fraser RCMP *~* Author's Notes: Recovery is a terrific episode, and it's absolutely necessary to watch it after Victoria's Secret, if only to stave off binge- eating depression. That said, the character of Ellen Carter, and Fraser's fascination with her, has always seemed to need more closure to me than we got on-screen. Fraser was trying to help her, and by his lights, this had to seem like a failure: she didn't back down, she ended up shooting Ray, and her life is a complete shambles at the end of the episode. But it did kick-start him into living. Ellen herself, I think, would probably be better able to cope once she was clean and sober. So I wrote this little pair of letters to answer my own about how events played out.   Back to Due South Fanfic / Back to the Chaos Horizon Due South and all associated characters are property of Alliance Atlantis Communications Corporation, and used here for entertainment purposes only. 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