Chapter 1

Dutch twirled his fingers anxiously, sitting in a small room by himself. The room reminded him of an interrogation room, and only made him even more uncomfortable.

Oh, what an awkward position I find myself in.

His back wasn't so sore anymore. He was taking antibiotics for the infection that had started to fester under the skin.

But right at the moment he could really care less about his back. Or any of the many bruises that riddled his body. All he cared about was that he was going to see her today. Chris was coming to see him, and he was getting more and more anxious to see her.

It seemed like hours were going by and she wasn't arriving. But finally the door eased open and she stepped in.

Dutch jumped to his feet, startling the guard who was standing in the corner. But he didn't mind. He rushed across the room, apparently startling Chris as well, because her muscles were stiff as rock when he pulled her into his arms. After a few moments she relaxed against him, her arms going around him, burying her face against his chest.

"I miss you," Dutch murmured, kissing her hair.

"I miss you, too," Chris whispered as she pulled back a little, tilting her head back to accept a kiss to her lips.

He couldn't get over how sweet she tasted, and he couldn't seem to let go of her. But she finally pulled away from him entirely, breaking the kiss, the hug, everything. At the moment she severed their contact, Dutch felt ill. He felt as though he would vomit.

Chris strode quietly past him and sat down at the table, arranging her hands neatly in her lap. She closed her eyes, tilting her head forward. It was silent, as though she were praying.

"Chris?" Dutch asked quietly, walking around the table to his chair and sitting down. "Is everything OK?"

"No," Chris murmured, her eyes still closed. "No, everything is not fucking OK." Her words were so smooth and so cold they were like a knife.

Reaching out, Dutch leaned over the table and touched her cheek, so gently he could barely feel her skin. But she felt the touch, and she jerked away from it. "What is it?" Dutch asked, leaning back, starting to feel impatient.

"You abandoned me," Chris said, opening her eyes and leveling them at him. "And I don't understand why."

"I didn't abandon you," Dutch said, his voice growing dark.

"I slept all by myself last night," Chris hissed, leaning forward, her hands gripping the edge of the table. "I was scared."

"Why?"

"Because I know there are people out there who royally fucking pissed at you right now and because I know that they could find me!" Chris said, her voice raising with every syllable until she was yelling. "You wouldn't be in here if you hadn't put yourself here!"

"This isn't about you anymore," Dutch said, keeping his own voice level. "This doesn't have anything to do with you any more!"

"But it started with me!" Chris yelled, slamming her fist on the top of the table. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice failed her. Tears began to gather in her eyes and she sank back into the chair and pulled her hand back into her lap. "You killed those men in self defense."

"No," Dutch said, shaking his head. "I blew out a kids brain and I smiled. The kid was trying to run away. He wasn't going to hurt me."

"You would have gotten away from that if you hadn't come here because of me."

"No, I wouldn't have," Dutch said quietly. The conversation had gone from a yelling one to a whispering one. "And it wasn't your fault-"

"It was," Chris said quickly, looking down at her open palms. "You never hurt me, Dutch. But they thought you did, and you went along with them 'cause you felt guilty. Why?"

"Crystal, it's not your fault, OK?" Dutch said. "I wouldn't have gotten away from any of this."

Looking back up, Chris leaned across the table, dropping her voice so much so that it was barely audible. Dutch had to lean forward to make out the words she was whispering. "Claim self-defense, please? You felt guilty about it - say you felt guilty and that's why you said what you did. But it was really self defense-"

"No, Chris," Dutch said quietly. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not true."

"It wouldn't have happened if they hadn't attacked you," Chris pleaded. "Please...I want you to come home."

Shaking his head, Dutch lowered her eyes and didn't say anything. He reached forward and took Chris's hands in his, holding them tightly. He wasn't sure that there was anything else to say about this. The argument could go on forever, and neither would make their point to the other.

"I want you to come home," Chris repeated quietly.

Dutch lay his head down on the cool table. His head was starting to hurt, and he was exhausted. He wanted to go home, too. But it was too late for that.

Letting go of his hand, Chris got up and walked around behind him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing the top of his head. "I miss you," she whispered.

"I miss you, too," Dutch said quietly, savoring the feeling of her arms around him.

"OK," said the guard, who seemed to be feeling uneasy now. "That's all your time."