Title: Expectations and Understandings

Author: Karolyn Gray

Fandom: Haven

Summary: He didn't want this—the position, the responsibility. Not really

Main character(s): Nathan Wuornos

Rating: K

Warnings: None

Spoilers: Episode 2.03 Love Machine

Disclaimer: Haven, characters, and related indicia is owned and copyrighted by E1 Entertainment, Syfy, NBC Universal, Stephen King and all related parties. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a work of fan based fiction and is not endorsed or affiliated in any way, shape, or form to the owners and/or copyright holders.

Expectations and Understanding

By Karolyn Gray

He was tired but determined to stop procrastinating on what he had to do. He wasn't going to be distracted by Audrey telling him to just go home and rest up from the four new holes he's sporting on his back as she brought him his requested change of clothes from home to the hospital. He wasn't even going to let the doctor's admonitions stop him—even if he did flinch in memory of the MRI scan showing how dangerously close the nails had been to his lung and spine. He had put this off long enough, maybe too long in light of the day's events.

He sighs as he walks into the Chief's office, his office now. The walk through the bullpen had been a bit unnerving at the looks he received. He didn't blame them; he couldn't remember the last time he dressed up— dress shirt, tie and all. Sure, it was for the unofficial meeting he planned to go to but it still made him feel a little strange to be dressed so. He thinks it might be okay though. More than a few of the other officers had looked surprised at his appearance but that surprise quickly settled into acceptance and respect and a few brief smiles.

He slowly placed his things on the Chief's desk—his dad's desk—shuffling them around a little. There's no pain from the four holes in his back as he does so, of course, but he can somehow sense his shoulder doesn't quite move as it should. Conscious of his promise to the doctors—and Audrey—he settles himself down in the chair. He has no intention of giving anyone, let alone his partner, reason to pester him about his most recent injury with offers to help change the dressing because he overstressed the wounds enough to make it bleed through his shirt.

He didn't want this—the position, the responsibility. Not really. He wanted to be a cop, liked being a cop, but if he is honest with himself there was only one reason for him to become a cop in Haven. That reason is now gone. He could go anywhere now. And yet here he is, sitting at a desk full of questions, responsibilities and troubles he's not sure he ever really thought about.

He feels regret sweep over him again for the umpteenth time since his father died. Strangely, he thinks he might be getting used to it—the regret and thinking of the Chief as simply 'Dad'. He thinks he's finally coming to understand his father more in death than he ever did in life; and new insight into the responsibilities and the secrets he kept. The more he learns the more he finds himself letting go the last bits of resentment and anger, the frustrations over the secrecy, and remembering better times while reassessing their disagreements with a new perspective.

He's the Chief—however long that may be—and he's expected to carry on. He sees the wood box sitting there and wonders at the secrets it contains, secrets couched in complaints and requests and meetings. He feels he has stumbled a little lately, since the Chief died, missed clues and opportunities. Maybe that is because he's been lost in his own issues—his dad…dads' deaths, Audrey, the Rev, the secrecy over the Troubles—to really be paying attention to what was going on with the people in town.

He grabs the box and unlocks it. The number of letters in the box surprises him. As he rifles through the correspondence he thinks he finally understands another part of his father's world. Nathan knows Haven well, but it's the face of Haven. He's even pierced beyond that façade to what lies beneath, knows there is far more going on than most are willing to admit. He realizes now that what he knows is only what people want him to know, not necessarily what he needs to know.

He reads all the letters. Most are as he thought: minor complaints, requests for meetings, and reminders for a half dozen social events the Chief of Police is expected to attend. A few are as he also suspected: requests for help for problems that sound 'troublesome'. But it is one letter, the one he read first and set aside as he considers what to do, that once more has changed his perspective: the hot stove meeting. There are expectations of him and he has to meet those expectations if he wants to garner understanding.

Fin.