Set during "Opiates and Antibiotics"
Ch. 18: Brevity
Walt sat on his porch with his legs stretched out in front of him. A wave of relief had washed over him when his cabin came into view and the RV was still sitting there. He was afraid she would be gone before he got home.
It sounded stupid.
When she told him earlier that she was considering moving her RV back to the trailer park, he tried to play it cool. Cool was not something he was particularly good at. Neither was self-expression.
That was more than obvious by the look on Vic's face when he turned around to leave the room. He didn't know what else to do in the moment. He couldn't very well do what he wanted to do, which was tell her outright he didn't want her to leave. That would open a can of worms he wasn't sure he was ready for.
She would want to know why.
It actually caught him off guard how panicked he felt when she brought it up so nonchalantly. The panic surged into his stomach as though a cliff appeared out of foggy darkness and loomed in front of him. He never was the best at thinking quickly on personal matters and reacting the way he wanted. He tended to stammer and stutter.
Or to completely pretend like it didn't' matter.
That never did work out well for him.
The subject was left untouched after his abrupt exit. It only came up again when she popped her head into his office later to tell him she was leaving a little early to prep the RV. He merely nodded wordlessly.
Sometimes, he was an idiot.
He was willing to concede that.
She gave him that odd look again and then left, pulling his office door closed behind her. He was well aware that he was guilty of giving her mixed signals lately. Her confusion only made him angrier at himself. Vic had enough problems without him adding his own emotional defects to the pile.
The truth was, his truth, was that having her parked in his yard provided him the personal access he craved without forcing him to take the final, obvious step. It made more sense in his mind than when tried to give it an actual voice.
Technically she wasn't living with him.
Technically.
Her RV was her home and she slept there most nights now. In the beginning, she had fallen asleep on his couch numerous times and he left her there to sleep, safe and sound. It made him feel better to have her under his watchful eye. It was easier to see where she was or where her mind was. Her frame of mind was a major concern for him. But, Walt seemed to have evolved into the person she trusted all of this with. Her grief. Her fears. Her feelings. Whether it was some sense that he could understand her grief or simply because the deep bond they once shared had reinvented itself into something different and possibly stronger than before, Walt couldn't say.
But he readily stepped into the role.
A comfortable routine developed between them. She ate dinner with him most evenings. She came early in the morning looking for coffee and swearing his was much better than what she could brew in her RV. He would only smile and pour her a cup.
But, his favorites were the late nights. The ones where they became lost in conversation, sipping beers and sitting on his couch. Minutes would turn into hours before they realized it. Those times were the ones he felt the closest to her. She would sit on his couch, with her bare feet pulled up or tucked under her looking casually like everything he wanted.
And he did want her.
Sometimes, the urge came to him so strongly and swiftly, he would excuse himself to the bathroom to pull himself together. Occasionally, the domesticity overwhelmed him. That was the hardest part. Not the sexual urges. Hell, he'd been fighting those for years. It was the glimpse of what normal, everyday life would be like with her. And he wanted it.
Badly.
Vic was perceptive. It was one of the things that made her good at her job. Every so often, he would catch her looking at him in a way that made his mouth go dry. Like maybe she knew what he was thinking. In those moments, he was almost certain that if he leaned over and kissed her, she would be receptive.
The thought both excited him and scared the hell out of him.
But, Vic was also vulnerable. He didn't want to take advantage of that. He couldn't stand the thought of her thinking his feelings weren't genuine. Or that he was merely trying to comfort her.
So, he remained frozen.
As usual.
But, if she left, it would shake up everything. He would be back to dining alone, unless they grabbed something at the office. His mornings would be quiet and lack her sleepy, tousled expression he was so fond of. There would be no excuse to sit and talk with her in the quiet, alone away from work. If he showed up at her RV for that, she would want to know why. She would assume something was wrong.
So he sat and he waited. He could just see her moving around inside. It wouldn't take her long to secure what she needed and get on the road. He looked down at the worn, wooden boards of the porch and scuffled his boot across the smooth surface.
He didn't look up when he heard the door to the RV open and close with a familiar slam. Or when he could hear her shoes crunching across his yard. He noticed she paused when she reached the first step. Then he heard the tread of her shoes as they padded up the stairs. Another pause.
"Walt."
He did look up when she said his name. He hadn't realized how fixated he'd been on his own boot. She was standing just off the last step and wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He tried not to notice how the jeans hugged her thighs and hips and she crossed the last bit of real estate that separated them. Her brows were knit together and her eyes were focused on him.
"What you looking at?"
He glanced back down.
"Nothing."
He paused and inhaled deeply as she sat down on the bench next to him. She smelled of sweat and coconut.
"All done?"
She glanced at the RV and then back to him.
"Yeah."
In his periphery, he could see her hands dangling in between her slightly parted knees. She seemed to be on the verge of saying something, her bottom lips pulled in between her teeth. Lately, he was pretty sure he could write a book on her body language. Reading her came easier to him now than it had in a long time.
He leaned back, relaxing his own posture and waited. She turned her head toward him and her eyes met his for the first time since she sat down next to him.
"Walt…I just…I wanted to thank you."
He could hear the struggle in her tone. Maybe to find the right words.
"Thank me?"
"Yeah, for everything."
He started to speak.
"Vic…"
She cut him off.
"Walt, please. Don't say that I don't have to or that I don't owe you anything. That's…that's not true. I wasn't too happy when I realized that you moved the RV without asking."
He smiled a little remembering that day like a breeze blowing lightly across his face.
You moved my house.
"But uh…I'm kind of glad you did."
"Kind of?"
He saw her shrug and her arm brushed his.
"Shit this is hard."
He was pretty sure she said it to herself. Not him.
"I mean…"
She shook her head. It wasn't like her to have problems expressing herself. Her jaw flexed and she leaned back, turning to the side so that she could look directly at him.
"I wouldn't have been able to get through this without you. So…thank you."
His throat felt tight and it burned.
He could argue that she would have. That she was strong and didn't need him. But, he knew that wasn't what she wanted to hear. Or needed to hear. He didn't think any of it was anything extraordinary. She had, after all, saved his life the night she was shot. If anything, he felt he owed it to her. But Vic would argue that point all day.
He could hear her struggle to get through what she was saying.
"Anytime."
He swallowed. She offered him a smile, then. That was what she needed. Merely for him to accept her thanks and not argue about things that didn't matter in the big scheme of things.
Acceptance.
She inhaled deeply and let the breath out sounding relieved. She ran her hands across her jeans.
"I should go."
Walt nodded. She stood and he followed. It seemed odd that he felt as though she were leaving and he needed to see her off. She was simply going home. She wasn't really leaving. But it felt like she was.
And he hated it.
He trailed behind her towards the RV.
"Need me to follow you."
She cast a look at the large vehicle and shook her head. He sensed the slightest bit of hesitation.
"No, I'll be fine."
"Okay."
He nodded. Vic smiled at him and lifted her hand in a half wave.
"See you tomorrow."
At work. They were back to that. Seeing her at work.
"Yep, see you tomorrow."
He watched as she climbed in and the wheels of the old RV started to turn. He stood there until she was out of sight, leaving only a cloud of dust.
He sighed and glanced back at his cabin. Things would be back to normal now.
The old normal.
He liked the new normal.
But, that was over.
For now.