As requested. Takes place during "A Thing I'll Never Understand." This was one of my favorites and the acting was, in my opinion, so spot on and amazing.
Ch. 9
Fear. It was the emotion he hated the most. It was the one that always threatened to paralyze him. Not just any fear. He could handle being shot at or wandering through the snowy mountains in search of criminals. It was the fear of losing someone he loved. The same fear that had sent him into a tail spin after the loss of his wife. The same that had tethered him to his daughter's bedside after her car accident. Those events seemed like they had occurred a lifetime ago. He was a man of thought and a man of action. When the fear paralyzed his mind, he could do neither. Sometimes the results far worse than the catalyst.
It was that fear that kept his foot pressing harder and harder of the gas pedal of his Bronco. It was that fear that kept him holding her to him while he steered, trying not to careen off the road into the blackness that seemed to be trying to swallow them both. She was shivering against him, in and out of consciousness. He rambled on and on about nothing really. Anything to keep her awake and let her know that he was here with her. He would get her to safety. He had not been there when his wife had needed him. He would not let Vic down, too.
He could feel the sticky wetness of her blood on his shirt. Her head lolled against his shoulder and he gave her a jolt.
"Vic! Stay with me!"
Her breath was hot on his ear and neck as she attempted to right herself. He didn't mind. It was a reminder that she was alive.
x
He hated waiting rooms. He was normally good at waiting. He was a very patient man in the right circumstances. These were not the right circumstances. He had waited in enough of these rooms during his life and the results had not always gone his way. He sat down and rested his head in his hands. What if he lost her? Walt forced the dark thought from his mind. That was unthinkable. He had already lost so much. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to ease the headache that had been plaguing him since Gilbert had escaped.
He should have told her. He should have told her what she meant to him. He shouldn't have waited. What if he didn't get the chance now? He looked down at his shirt. Her blood was smeared across it like a gruesome work of art. He rose and paced the room. He was the only one here. The hospital seemed eerily quiet. It was like it knew what was on the line for him. The fear coiled inside of him like a snake looking for prey. It made him feel sick. He was not a religious man but he had already begged what God might be listening to not take her from him. Not this time.
His mind flashed back to her sleeping in the jail cell. He had paused briefly to study her. Her face was somewhat relaxed and unguarded in her sleep. He rarely got the chance to look at her without risking being caught. She was beautiful, even with the stress of Chance Gilbert weighing her down. Even with this secret she seemed to be keeping. He wondered who the father was and shook the thoughts away. A twinge of jealously pulled at him.
Walt snapped back to the present. He continued to wait for Dr. Weston to appear and give him some kind of news. The fear continued to gnaw at him.
x
Her hand was cool to the touch. She looked pale. So much blood lost. It was nothing short of a miracle she was alive. The words of the doctor echoed through his mind. She was incredibly lucky to be alive. He was incredibly luck she was alive. He had waited anxiously for Ferg to leave. All he really wanted was to be alone with her for a little while. She had lost the baby. That hadn't surprised him. He had told Weston he would deliver the news to her. Better to come from him he thought. She seemed small and fragile laying in this sterile environment. Neither of those were words he would use to describe her. She was so strong and so full of life. Seeing her in this state, so quiet and still rattled him.
The fear had finally begun to subside. As he had stood talking to Weston, he had felt it's grip on him loosen and retreat. He was hearing the words he needed to hear. He didn't hear everything the man said but he heard the most important part. She had suffered a terrible loss. But, she would live. She would recover. She would not leave him. Not this time and not in this way. He would be here when she opened her eyes. That was important to him. She would not wake up and find herself alone. Chance Gilbert was dead. The Feds were handling that. Everything else could wait.