Okay, so the idea behind this "story" is that it's not necessarily a story, but instead a series of moments. As I find myself thinking about what the writers will think up for Season 4 of the show, I keep dreaming up little moments that I would love to see happen. So that's really all that these are, moments in Walt and Vic's relationship that I could see happening. They'll alternate between both perspectives, and they won't necessarily be back to back as far as time is concerned.

Vic

I'm driving down the road, more like flying, with both the lights and sirens on. I'm not sure what the hell I'll find once I get there; Branch was talking a mile a minute when he called my cell a few minutes ago. The only phrases that I could really make out were, "I shot him" and "I'm his only son." I should probably call Walt, but I want to see what's going on first before I bother him at home.

When I get close, I see Branch standing in the middle of the road waving his arms in the air. He's covered in blood, but the way that he's moving assures me that it's not his.

I slam on my brakes when I get closer to him and hop out of the car. "Branch, what the hell happened?"

"I shot him, Vic. I had to."

I look around for another person, but I don't see anyone. "Who? Branch, who did you shoot?"

"My dad." He starts walking around his truck and I see Barlow lying on the ground, covered in blood. His eyes are wide as he stares up at us, struggling to breathe.

"What the… Branch! What did you do?!"

His voice is softer now. "He pulled his gun on me, but I shot him first. I already called an ambulance."

I kneel down and check Barlow's pulse. It's there, but it's not very strong. The ambulance better get here fast.

"Why did he pull his gun on you?"

"I found out that he was behind Walt's wife's murder."

I jerk my head in Branch's direction. You what?

I can hear the sadness in his voice now. "He paid for the whole thing, Vic."

I don't even know what to say to that. "Jesus Christ," is the only thing that I can muster.

I put pressure on Barlow's wound, hoping that will help stop the bleeding a little bit until the paramedics get here. Where the hell are they?

Not more than a minute later they come racing down the road, followed closely by a familiar, old rusted Bronco.

"You called Walt?"

"Yeah." He nods his head solemnly.

"You go talk to him. I'll deal with the medics."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. He needs to hear this from you."

I explain the whole situation to the paramedics as they work at loading Barlow into the ambulance. He's still conscious, but he's not talking. Once they get him loaded up they ask if I'm riding along.

"Uhh…" I glance back at Branch who's still talking to Walt. "Branch, do you wanna ride?"

He looks over briefly and nods his head. A few moments later he gives Walt a pat on the shoulder and jogs toward us.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, it's okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go talk to Walt."

I look back at Walt, who's standing in the middle of the street staring off into the distance. I can't even imagine what's going on in his head right now.

"Okay. I'll meet you at the hospital soon."

They shut the doors and drive off towards town. I turn and make my way over to Walt.

"Walt?" I say as I approach him.

He doesn't respond, or even looks in my direction. I'm not sure if he didn't hear me or if he's just ignoring me.

I try again, "Walt!" A little louder this time.

He jerks his head towards me, but doesn't say anything.

He looks around for a few seconds and then walks over to the driver's side of the Bronco.

"Hey, wait."

He opens the door but sits sideways on the seat, so he's not all the way in the car. I walk over and stand in front of him.

"Talk to me, Walt."

He looks up at me and makes eye contact for a few moments, before his eyes drift back down. He reaches forward and grabs one of my hands that was covered in blood. I wiped most of it off on a towel but you can still see traces of it.

"Is this his blood?"

"Yes."

He takes my hand and rubs it with both of his. He doesn't say anything for about a minute or so, and when he finally looks up I see tears forming in his eyes.

"It's my fault."

"No-"

"He killed her to just to hurt me," he says as he bows his head, bringing my hand up to his face and sobbing into it.

I know there aren't any words that I can say to comfort him right now, so I just lean forward and put my other arm around him and pull him forward into my chest. The agony that he's shaking with is more than I can handle, and I spend the next couple minutes consoling him while fighting off tears of my own. The tears win in the end, and they're streaming down my face when he pulls away.

"I'm so sorry, Walt."

He stares back at me for a moment before reaching over and wiping a few of my tears away with his thumb.

He doesn't say 'thanks,' but he nods his head instead and gives a small, sad smile.

He pauses for another moment before he speaks again. "We should probably head to the hospital," he says as he releases my hand like he just realized he was still holding it.

"Are you sure you're up for that?"

"No," he admits. "But we should go anyway… for Branch."

Now there's the Walt I'm familiar with. He only allowed himself to grieve for about two minutes before turning his attention somewhere else.

I nod, understanding that if he wanted to talk more he would. "Okay. I'll follow you there," I say, turning to head to my truck.

I'm always following you.