Ch. 2

Walt forced himself to get out of bed the first time he woke up. No going back to sleep. He showered and dressed. Looking in the mirror, he ran his hand over the light beard on his face. He considered shaving it but shook his head. He wasn't sure he wanted to waste the stamina this morning. After some coffee, he surveyed the cabin. He dug through his cabinets and came up with a box of trash bags. He started by collecting cans and the odd piece of trash here or there. That was the easy part. Setting the full bags on his porch, he turned to the kitchen. Two hours later he had washed, dried, and put away all the dishes. He had also scrubbed the sink and counter tops. He sat down and inhaled the air that finally didn't reek of filth. There was still a lot to be done but it was a good start. Some small part of him hoped she would come that day. She didn't. He went to bed disappointed. No phone call either.

The next morning, he rose early again and swept and cleaned his floors. He also got on his piled up laundry and cleaned the bathroom. By dinner time, there wasn't much left in the cabin to be done. The outside could use some work but that would be more labor intensive. He glanced at his watch, disappointment filling his throat with a sour taste he couldn't shake. He showered again and was pulling on clean jeans when he heard her truck. Jerking a t-shirt over his head, he nearly opened the door before she knocked.

Her eyes swept over him.

"Too late?"

He shook his head.

"No, I just showered. I've been cleaning."

She entered and looked around.

"Wow, I can see that."

She was carrying another paper bag.

"Henry?"

"Of course."

This time he took the bag from her. She trailed him to the kitchen.

"There's enough for two. Do you want some?"

He could sense her hesitation.

"When was the last time you had good meal?"

A smile crossed her face.

"Your sense of humor has recovered a bit, I see."

He fixed two plates, this time it was burgers and still hot fries. They ate in silence, his eyes flickering over her once in a while. Her eyes finally rose and settled on his.

"Going for the mountain man, look?"

He shrugged.

"Maybe. Like it?"

Vic scrunched up her face.

"Not really, Walt."

He cleared away the dishes.

"How are things at the office?"

"You care?"

"Yes, I care."

"Funny, you didn't before."

Walt sighed.

"Vic..."

She held up her hands.

"I don't want to argue with you."

She pulled on her jacket.

"You're leaving?"

He wasn't sure if she could hear the disappointment as easily as he could.

"Yeah, some asshole bailed and I'm acting Sheriff. It's a pain in my ass, you know."

"You're mad at me for taking a leave of absence? After I killed the man who was responsible for the death of my wife?"

Anger flashed across her face.

"No, Walt, I'm angry with you because you disappeared. We're all struggling. We've all lost something. I understand that your loss is greater but, Walt, we're all a little lost here. But we are trying. We are showing up and trying to move forward. But you just vanish. You shut down and you close yourself off to everyone, even your own daughter. You leave everyone to clean up the mess and you offer nothing. Fuck everyone, right?"

She inhaled sharply.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...I'm sorry."

Walt shook his head.

"It's okay. It's the truth, right?"

Vic only looked at her boots and fished her keys out of her pocket. He sat in the stillness and listened to her truck as it roared off.

x

It was a week before he saw her again. In that time, there were no phone calls. He cleaned up the outside of his cabin, hauling off trash and cleaning up the yard. He stood, proud of his handiwork. The place had never looked this pulled together. Every evening, he waited and she didn't come. On the sixth night, he shaved. It was a long, slightly painful process. When he was done, he washed his face and then stared at himself in the mirror. If he didn't have his quest for justice, what did he have? Who was Walt Longmire now?

He had missed the sound of her truck so the knocking made him jump. He wiped off his face and answered the door.

"There you are."

She gestured at his face as she came in. He closed the door behind her. She was empty handed.

"No food?"

"Not this time. Guess at some point, you're on your own."

He smiled then. Really smiled.

"I'm glad you're here, Vic."

"Yeah, Walt, I'm sorry..."

Walt held up his hand.

"It was the truth. Don't apologize. I'm sorry that I dumped everything on you."

He softly took her forearm in his hand.

"Sit."

She sat and he sat next to her.

"How is work?"

"Busy. Everything's a little out of sorts but we're making it. Lucian has been around a lot. He seems to think he's our new dispatcher."

Walt chuckled.

"That sounds like Lucian."

"Walt, when are you coming back? I don't want to push you but...the feds cleared you. I mean, there's nothing to really stop you."

"Right."

He drew the word out. He didn't have an answer to her question.

"Are you coming back?"

"Yes."

She nodded.

"I guess that will have to do for now. I should probably go."

She moved to stand but his hand closed over hers.

"Wait, Vic."

She looked at him questioningly and silent.

"How are you? Really?"

There was something in his voice that hadn't been there before. He saw her eyes change slightly at his tone. His hand remained over hers. His thumb ran over her palm lightly. Vic's eyes moved to their hands and then back up to his face. Walt tried to fight the desperation that clung to him. He wanted her to stay longer. Loneliness had plagued him since her first visit. He had been fine until he had seen her. Now something tugged at him.

"I'm dealing. I'm..."

Her voice faltered and it was Walt who spoke.

"Lonely."

Vic licked her lips.

"That's not what I was gonna say but yeah."

He reached up and traced his finger down her cheek.

"I miss you."

She slid just out of his reach.

"Walt..."

He kissed her, silencing whatever words her brain had formed. For a second, she didn't react at all. Then he felt the pressure as she responded. None of this had been premeditated and he didn't know what to do except go with what he felt. His tongue found it's way into her mouth. He was almost certain he heard her moan slightly. Walt could feel pressure stoking in his gut, coiling like a snake ready to strike. He moved to push her down on the couch. He felt resistance at first but then her fingers curled into his biceps and he was hovering over her. One hand held her face, while the other hand caressed her thigh. He broke contact with her mouth and buried his face in her neck. He felt her fingers close over his hair in fists and her chest expanded hard with labored breathing.

His hand left her face and he began to fumble with his belt buckle. He didn't understand how or why this had escalated so quickly, only that he didn't want it stop.

"Walt...Walt...wait."

It was hard to hear her. Her voice was raspy and dripping with confusion. He rested his head in the crook of her neck.

"I need you."

He didn't recognize his own voice as he murmured the words, his breath hot on her ear.

"Don't leave me, Vic."

It was easily the most intense sex of his life. She had responded to his plea as he knew she would. He couldn't deny her and she couldn't deny him. Weeks and months of pent up emotions freed itself from them both. He lost himself in the ebb and flow, the push and pull. His mind completely blacked out near the end and it felt like hours before he came back to himself. By then, she was gone.