Ch. 4: Caliginous

"I'm not jealous."

Walt gave her a skeptical look, tilting his chin towards where she was draped over him like a blanket. Walt's hand was making slow circles around her bare back. Vic had her head propped up in her hand and was turned into him, her chest pressing against him.

"I didn't say that you were."

"You implied it."

He smiled a little at her continued insistence.

"You're the one who jumped me the minute we walked in the door."

Vic made a face.

"Jumped you? I didn't jump you. And, even if I did, I don't hear you complaining about it."

Walt exhaled a breath and his hand stopped moving across her back.

"Julia and I were never anything. I don't see where she was flirting."

Vic rolled her eyes.

"Walt, go ask anyone and they will tell you that she was flirting. You are blind when it comes to women. I think we've established that over the years. She was. Trust me. Which…is a really shitty thing to do in front of someone's spouse…I might add."

Walt smiled again.

"Now you know how I feel. Men look at you all the time. As I recall, a few have even asked you out when you were with me."

Vic studied his face.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He gave her an innocent look.

"Enjoying what?"

"Her attention. You didn't seem to mind it."

The smile on his face faded and something approaching worry edged in.

"I didn't…"

He seemed flustered which brought a smile to Vic. She pressed her free hand into his chest and let her face fall onto his skin.

"I'm kidding. Don't lose your shit on me."

Walt huffed out a breath.

"I wasn't…losing my shit."

Vic lifted her face and looked up into his eyes.

"You gotta admit, though. She was flirting. The dinner invitation. The way she touched you…"

Her words trailed off and Walt grew serious.

"Vic…"

Before he could go any further, she shook her head, cutting him off.

"Forget it. I don't want to talk about her anymore."

Walt didn't seem as anxious to let it go. He slid his hand up her back and into her hair.

"Hey…you know that I would never…"

Walt didn't finish the though. He didn't need to. Vic smiled softly.

"I know. I trust you. But…for a woman with such a put together look…she's got no decorum. You just don't put your hands on another woman's husband. Especially not in front of her. And, especially not when it's me."

She pushed herself up and kissed him on the mouth, holding the contact longer than normal. Walt's hand curled around the back of her head and pressed her more deeply into him. She pulled back a little, almost all the way on top of him and let her forehead rest on his.

"So…have you recovered yet?"

She was smiling. And, it was feral. Walt could feel his heart thump hard in his chest. It surprised him that Vic couldn't hear it.

"Why? Are you not done with me?"

Her smile stayed in place and she slowly shook her head.

"No, I don't think that I am."

Lowering her face, she kissed him again. This time, it was slow and deep. She wasn't holding herself up anymore and her body was pressed fully into his. Walt's hand drifted from her hair onto her back again and was joined by his other hand as he shifted a little under the added weight.

The buzzing of her cell phone diverted her attention. Vic pushed up and glanced at the phone.

"Son of a bitch."

Hefting herself off of Walt, she rolled onto her back and grabbed the phone.

"This better be good."

Walt nearly winced at the tone of her voice when she answered.

"Vic?"

The hesitant voice that met her ears was Zach's. That wasn't good. At all. Vic sighed and ran a hand over her face, closing her eyes.

"Yeah, Zach. What's wrong?"

Beside her, she could see Walt turn his head in her direction. He clearly knew it was a work related call.

"There's a um…a girl at the office. She says she has information on our victim. But…she won't talk to me. She'll only talk to you."

Vic frowned.

"Me? Why me?"

"Well, not you personally. But…she knows our Sheriff is a woman. And, she only wants to talk to a woman."

Vic opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

"Okay, give me…about half an hour or so."

Vic ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bedside table with a clatter.

"Damn it."

She rolled off the bed, her feet landing firmly on the floor. Walt sat up, the blankets sliding down his torso to his waist.

"What's going on?"

He watched her move around the room, snatching clothes, her mood clearly darkening. Vic tugged on a pair of jeans, her eyes on him.

"Work. Always."

She continued to jerk clothes on, her agitation clear.

"It's okay, Vic."

Vic shook her head and pulled a clean thermal shirt over her head and grabbed her uniform shirt.

"No, Walt, it's not. All I do these days is work. I'm getting a little tired of it."

Walt swung his own legs over the bed and stood up. He pulled on his own jeans while Vic buttoned her shirt and disappeared into the bathroom. He could hear her brushing her teeth. When she came back out, her hair was pulled back. Walt stepped in front of her and caught her by the shoulders.

"Hey."

Vic tilted her head back and looked up at him.

"What?"

She sounded less angry, but still frustrated.

"It's okay. It's a murder investigation. I'll be here when you get home."

She sighed.

"I would like to be optimistic and say that'll be in a couple of hours. But, we both know that might not be true. God, I can't wait for Cady to come back."

Walt gave a pull, guiding her into his chest.

"This could be an important break in your case."

"I know."

She mumbled the words into his chest.

"I just wish people could schedule their crimes or whatever so that it doesn't clash with my sex life."

Walt smiled when she said it, her sense of humor rearing its head. Lifting her face, she kissed him. When she pulled back, she ran one hand over his jaw, the skin rough under her hand.

"I love you. You know that, right?"

He nodded and kissed her again.

"I do."

Stepping away from him, Vic tossed a smile his way.

"Maybe it will only be a couple of hours. If that's the case, I would recommend you get some rest while I'm gone."

With that, she turned and left the bedroom.

xxx

Vic clambered up the stairs to the office. It was dark outside and chilly. She unzipped her jacket as she pulled open the door and shrugged it off. Inside, the space was lit up, but quiet. Vic tossed her jacket over her chair and glanced around. The door to Cady's office was open and the light was on. Vic started that way when she heard Zack speaking to someone.

Vic paused in the doorway. Zach was leaning on the desk facing a girl whose back was to Vic. He looked over the girl when Vic appeared and straightened up, clearing his throat. Noticing the shift in his attention, the girl looked over her shoulder, her eyes falling on Vic.

Vic eyed the girl as she crossed the floor towards Zach, taking her in. She was slight and seemed petite, wearing a faded floral dress that stopped about mid-calf and seemed too big for the girl. The girl's eyes ran up Vic to her face and settled there. She couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen and looked like a scared rabbit about to take off.

"You're the Sheriff?"

Vic glanced at Zach and back to the girl.

"No, I'm not. But, the Sheriff is out of work right now. I'm Deputy Moretti. Vic."

She offered up her first name in the hopes that it would put the girl more at ease.

"But, you're in charge."

Vic smiled a little.

"Yeah. What's your name?"

The girl looked at Zach and then to Vic.

"Could he leave?"

Zach made eye contact with Vic and nodded. He left the room quietly, pulling the door closed behind him. Vic turned her attention back to the young woman in front of her.

"Okay…so…your name."

"Grace."

The name was pushed out with a degree of uncertainty.

"Grace. Do you have a last name?"

"Is that important?"

Vic smiled a little.

"Not right now. So…I'm told you have information for me."

The girl nodded. She had wide brown eyes that seemed restless.

"Yeah. I saw the picture…on the TV. The drawing."

Vic dipped her chin.

"You know him?"

Grace fidgeted around in her chair. Vic already knew the answer based on Grace's facial expression and her body language. The real question was, how much information would she be able to coax from someone who clearly didn't want to be sitting where she was. Something had driven her to come here and Vic wanted to know what that was.

"I could get in a lot of trouble for coming here. We're not supposed to talk to outsiders. Especially, the law."

Vic tilted her head.

"Who is we?"

Grace shook her head.

"I can't tell you all of that. It would be a betrayal. That's the worst."

Vic fell quiet for a moment. She didn't want to push the girl too hard for fear of shutting her down completely. At this point, she would take any information that she could get.

"Okay. So…his name?"

Grace hesitated and Vic could see her waging an internal battle with herself. She was here at some kind of danger to herself. That much was obvious. Ruby took a deep breath before she answered.

"Nate. His name is Nate."

The name settled over Vic's mind.

"Does Nate have a last name?"

Grace gave her a long look.

"We don't really do last names. That's part of it. But…he told me once. Anyway. He was like that. More open, you know. More trusting."

Vic didn't know, but she nodded anyway, hoping the girl would go on.

"Okay. So…what did he tell you his last name was?"

The girl licked her lips.

"Bradley. That's all I know about his life before."

Grace stood abruptly. Vic straightened up.

"Where are you going?"

Grace backed up a step like she thought Vic might grab for her.

"I need to get back. Before they know I'm gone. That's not good."

Vic frowned.

"I can help you. Keep you safe."

Grace gave her a sad look.

"I…I don't think so."

She stepped back again towards the door.

"…I gotta go."

Vic took a step forward, her hands out.

"Grace…has someone hurt you?"

The young woman only shook her head and pulled the door open.

"I hope that you can find his family. They should know. He missed them. He loved them"

With that, she turned and headed for the office door. Zach twitched, thinking about reaching out and detaining the girl. But, Vic gave him a quick shake of her head and let the girl go. She hurried out the door. Zach watched the door close behind Grace.

"So, what was that all about?"

Vic turned her attention to Zach.

"Run the name Nate Bradley. Could be short for Nathan or…maybe Nathaniel. But…run it."

Zach nodded.

"On it."

xxx

Walt sat on the couch with a book in his hands. If he were being honest with himself, he hadn't really been reading. Not for a while. He looked at his watch again. He hadn't been able to sleep after Vic left. He hated lying in bed and doing nothing, so he had gotten up. With little to occupy him, he turned to a book. But, he couldn't concentrate.

Closing the book, he laid it aside. Standing, he stretched out the muscles in his back. If Vic wasn't home by now, there was a good chance that she wouldn't be home before morning. He turned off the light and was halfway to the bedroom when he paused.

In the distance, he heard the sound of a vehicle. Turning, Walt crossed the floor to the front door and pulled it open. Sure enough, he could see headlights. As he expected, it was Vic. She pulled to a stop in front of the cabin and got out. He could read the confusion on her face at seeing him up and dressed.

"What're you doing still up?"

She took the steps slowly. Walt held the door open for her.

"I was about to go to bed when I heard you."

He closed the door behind them. Vic removed her jacket and hung it up.

"So…you were waiting up?"

Walt smiled.

"I was."

Vic shook her head as they walked into the bedroom.

"Walt, I've told you not to do that. You should sleep."

He didn't seem to absorb her words.

"So should you."

Vic sighed and started to undress.

"Right. But…there's no reason for you to sit up. I'm a big girl."

Walt stripped off his own clothes and tossed them aside. He knew, despite her protests to the contrary, that she appreciated the gesture. He was aware that sometimes, no matter how tired you were after a late night at work, sleep wasn't always possible. There were times, when what was really needed was an ear that was willing to listen. Not being on any particular schedule himself, he was able and willing to offer her that.

Vic slid under the covers and stretched out. Walt lay on his side with his head propped on his hand, watching her.

"So…what happened?"

She met his eyes.

"We have a name now. Hopefully, tomorrow, we'll have more. His name is Nate."

Walt's eyes stayed on her. Vic rolled her head his way and met his eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it right now, though."

She smiled at him softly. Reaching out with one hand, she traced her fingers over his face.

"I don't deserve you."

Walt's brow furrowed.

"How so?"

She shrugged and let her hand fall away, landing on her stomach.

"I just don't."

Walt shook his head.

"That's not true, Vic."

Leaning over her, he kissed her. Vic returned the kiss. Walt pulled away just a bit.

"You deserve everything."

Her smile widened.

"Everything, huh?"

"Yep."

He saw her throat bob with a swallow.

"Thank you."

Walt tilted his head.

"For what?"

"For waiting up."

Walt smiled and kissed her again.

xxx

Vic skimmed her eyes over the papers in her hand.

"Nathaniel Bradley…sixteen."

Lowering herself into her chair, she continued to run her eyes over the page. The picture secured from the DMV verifying a learner's permit confirmed the identity. The face that Vic was looking into was clearly the same as their victim. Still, a familial or DNA confirmation would be even more concrete than her visual opinion. Even in his license picture, he was a good-looking kid. There was an expression that reminded Vic of her youngest brother.

"Anything interesting?"

The question came from Ferg. Vic glanced up and shook her head.

"Not really."

She said the words slowly.

"He wasn't reported missing as far as I can see. But…I don't see any records, not even juvenile. No traffic violations or anything."

"Next of kin?"

Vic nodded, distractedly.

"I have the father listed as a Samuel Bradley. There's an address."

"In Absaroka?"

Vic shook her head.

"No…Sheridan."

Ferg leaned forward in his chair.

"You want me to ride with you?"

Vic glanced up.

"No…stay here. Zach's not coming in until after lunch so…"

She trailed off. But, Ferg knew what she was saying. Vic sighed and laid the papers on her desk.

"Jesus, I hate doing this shit."

Ferg gave her an understanding look.

"Which part?"

She met his eyes.

"Telling a parent that their child is dead and that we need them to help us verify that. It's just…it sucks."

Ferg nodded his head in agreement.

"Yeah, it does."

His voice dipped a bit and Vic's expression softened.

"How is Meg?"

His grim expression lightened up a bit at the mention of his wife.

"She's doing good. Or, so she tells me."

Vic drummed on hand on the desk.

"How are things between the two of you?"

He knew what she meant. She could read that on his face.

"Can I get your honest opinion on something?"

Vic smiled in response.

"You know you can. What's up?"

"Do you think it makes me a chauvinist to want my wife to stay at home with our baby?"

Vic inhaled and released the breath slowly.

"That depends on whether or not you're willing to hear her?"

"What do you mean?"

Vic leaned back in her chair, the movement causing it to squeak.

"The thought doesn't necessarily make you chauvinist as much as old fashioned. But…if you're not willing to consider her side of things and…maybe see where you could do more…then, yeah. You just might be."

She could see him mull over her words.

"So…you're saying that I should what? Offer to stay home myself?"

Vic smiled.

"Do you think your job is more important than Meg's?"

He frowned.

"Not really."

"Do you think your job means more to you?"

"No."

Vic nodded slowly.

"Then…do you see where your expectations aren't necessarily fair?"

He sighed.

"Yeah, I guess. I just…my mom enjoyed staying home with us when I was a kid."

Vic shrugged.

"My mother enjoyed controlling everyone. Doesn't make it right. You…aren't your parents. Meg isn't your mother. You can't expect her to be."

With that, Vic pushed up from her chair and gave him one final look, gathering up her papers.

"You can't expect Meg to be flexible where you're not. And, the more you push her, the more likely she is to push back. Trust me on that one."

She held his eyes for a moment before turning away.

xxx

The neighborhood that Vic was navigating seemed ideal. The houses that lined the seemingly quiet street all looked similar in size and appearance. Each one had a small, well kept yard that appeared to have freshly tended to yards.

She slowed and turned into the driveway of a white, one story home. Like all the others, the yard was neat and clean. The house appeared in good repair. Clearly, the people who lived here cared. About appearances, at least.

Still, she knew from experience that even the nicest neighborhoods could hold secrets. Just because someone was from the so-called right side of town, didn't necessarily mean anything. People from all walks of life went afoul of the law. Some were merely in a better position to get away with it.

There was a small red sedan parked in front of the house. Vic parked behind it, removed her sunglasses and slid from the truck. Closing the door, she scanned the house and the yard with all of her senses, not just her eyes. She slowly walked up the sidewalk to the front door. It was red, similar to the car. Reaching out, she pressed the doorbell. Inside the house, she heard the chime along with the barking of a small dog.

After a few seconds, she heard a mail voice hush the dog and the sounds of quick footsteps over the floor. She heard the door lock from the inside and it struck her for some reason. In her experience, a good portion of the population she came into contact with were lax about locking their doors. It had become something of a running joke over her time here.

The door swung open and a man appeared in front of her. Vic offered up a polite smile as she took him in. Early fifties, short hair, and dark eyes. He was tanned and his teeth were a little too white. Bleaching, she thought. He wore jogging pants and a t-shirt along with sneakers. He frowned a little when he saw Vic.

"Can I help you?"

"Samuel Bradley?"

He nodded his head.

"Yes."

Vic cleared her throat.

"I'm Deputy Moretti from Absaroka County."

The frown stayed in place on the man's features.

"Absaroka County? What are you doing in Sheridan?"

Vic pulled the folded picture of Nate's license from her back pocket. Unfolding it, she held it up for the man to see.

"This is your son? Nathaniel?"

Something passed over the man's face. It was almost like he knew what she was about to tell him. His eyes stayed on the paper for several seconds before he responded.

"Nate. Yes, he's my son."

Vic swallowed. But, before she could speak up, Samuel Bradley spoke again.

"Something has happened to him?"

It was a statement looking for confirmation more than a question. Vic nodded.

"Yes, sir. We found him in Absaroka County…"

"By found him…you mean…hurt or…not alive?"

"Deceased."

The word passed between them and the man's features darkened considerably. He squared his shoulders, clearly trying to maintain his composure and cleared his throat a couple of times. Vic tucked the paper away.

"Do you mind if I come in?"

He stepped back, giving her room to pass. Vic stepped inside. The interior of the house was as neat as the exterior. He led her to a small living room and gestured at a beige colored couch.

"Would you like some coffee? Tea?"

He hovered just to her left until Vic shook her head.

"No…thank you."

Samuel moved to sit on a chair to the side of her with a deep sigh. His head bowed and he studied the floor for a few minutes. Vic gave him the room to process the room. In all honesty, she hadn't expected him to remain so stoic.

"Can you tell me what happened to Nate?"

When he spoke, she heard the quiver in his words.

Vic leaned forward and clasped her hands between her knees.

"We're looking into that? Can you tell me when you saw your son last?"

He grew quiet and ran one hand over his pants.

"About a month ago."

"Did he run away or…?"

Her question trailed off. Samuel took in a deep breath.

"Not exactly."

Vic kept her eyes on the man.

"Can you tell me what you mean by that? We don't have any reports of him being reported missing."

"I never reported him missing. I knew where he was. Well…sort of."

Vic frowned.

"Mr. Bradley, your son was found buried in the woods. I need you to tell me what you know about what he was doing and who he was with?"

It almost seemed like he was debating telling her. Finally, he spoke.

"My wife died…three years ago. I haven't remarried or even dated, really. Being a single father who works…a lot was harder than I anticipated. Nate was a good kid. But…he was very close to his mother. Losing her, it did something to him. He disconnected from me. And, I was dealing with my own grief. Admittedly, I wasn't as involved in his life as I should have been. I…didn't know his friends. About six months ago, he started running with some kids that didn't go to his school. They didn't seem like bad kids…but…he started to clam up even more. He didn't want to tell me where he was going or…anything really. I chalked it up to his age. In hindsight, I should've pushed the issue."

He paused and tapped the fingers of his right hand on his knee.

"Then the fighting started."

He stopped again. Vic cocked her head.

"Fighting with who?"

Samuel grimaced.

"Me. He became argumentative about…everything."

Vic was trying to be patient. But, the man didn't seem to be in any hurry to get to the heart of the matter.

"Mr. Bradley, I need for you to tell me where your son was or who he was with. It's the only way we can find out what happened to him."

The man in front of her sighed. She could see cracks in his façade. The lines etched across his face, and the sad, almost beaten expression in h is eyes. Vic forced herself to focus. Emotions weren't helpful.

"He wanted to move in with a friend of his. That's what it comes down to, Deputy. At first, I said no. But…he pushed and pushed. So…I spoke with the other boy's…uncle…and he assured me that it was okay for Nate to stay with them for a while. I figured it would only be for a week or two. But…that's the last time that Nate was home."

Vic looked at her hands before lifting her eyes back to his.

"I'm gonna need the name and address."

He nodded and stood up. He left the room for several minutes. While he was gone, Vic let her eyes take in the room. There were pictures on the wall. A few family pictures, a few of a younger Nate. All seemed normal. At least, frozen in time they seemed happy. When he returned, he passed Vic a torn off piece of paper with some information scribbled across it.

"The boy…Lucas Gregory lived with his uncle. I think his parents were dead…or something. I met him a few times. And his uncle…Jonathan Mixon. I met him as well. They live in Cumberland County now. They…moved recently, I believe."

Vic nodded.

"Did you talk to Nate with any regularity after he moved out?"

Samuel Bradley nodded with a sheepish expression.

"On and off. My work schedule is…hellish at times. But, I did call him once a week. At least. But…he stopped taking my calls about two weeks ago."

"That didn't concern you?"

Samuel shrugged.

"I figured he was just…being a kid. You know?"

Vic's eyes stayed on him for a moment before drifting down to the sheet of paper in her hand.

xxx

Vic nearly collided with Ferg as she walked through the office door. He held up his hands as the door closed behind her and caught her by one arm.

"Sorry."

Vic smiled and shook her head at his apology. He moved on to his desk, watching her.

"How was the father?"

Vic glanced his way.

"Confusing."

She passed him the sheet of paper with the two names on it.

"His story is that Nate moved in with a friend and the friend's uncle. And, that he hadn't heard from him in two weeks."

Ferg glanced at the names.

"Want me to run them?"

Vic shook her head as he offered her the paper back.

"No, I'll run them. I want background on the father, too. He seems…a little too perfect if you know what I'm saying. I wanna know who I'm dealing with."

Ferg nodded his head.

"Sounds good. Do you mind if I take off in half an hour or so?"

Vic shook her head.

"No. Everything okay?"

Ferg nodded with a look of exasperation.

"Yeah, Meg wants me to tour the birthing center she's using."

Vic cocked her head.

"Birthing center?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, it's in Sheridan. She didn't want to use Durant Regional. Don't ask me why."

Vic smiled a little.

"Everything is in Sheridan today."

He looked apprehensive.

"So…you don't mind?"

"No. Go ahead. Go on your tour."

Ferg's face broke into a smile.

"You might be lucky…not having kids. It's a lot of drama."

Vic's eyes flicked away from his.

"Right."

If Ferg noticed the change in her tone, he didn't comment on it. He bustled around the office while Vic sat down and started to type away at the keys on her laptop. She looked up and around the office.

"Where's Zach?"

Ferg paused in his movement.

"He took a call about an accident. Should be back soon. I don't think it was serious."

Vic nodded and dropped her eyes back to her computer screen. Returning to his desk, he sat down.

"So…the kid wasn't living at home."

Vic kept her eyes on her screen when she answered.

"Not according to the father."

"That's…odd."

Vic shrugged.

"I guess. He claims he was having issues getting along with his son and he thought this might be a temporary solution."

"Still…would your parents have let you move in with a friend when you were sixteen?"

Vic huffed a humorless laugh under her breath.

"God…no. My parents were control freaks who would lose their shit if they didn't know where I was. My dad was a detective and he knew the kind of shit that happened on the streets. It didn't make him flexible."

"So…did they always know where you were?"

Vic smiled and lifted her eyes.

"Nope. It was a helluva lot more fun to drive them crazy."

Ferg laughed. Vic leaned in.

"Address checks out with what the father told me. They live in Cumberland County."

"Cumberland? Did he change schools?"

Vic sighed and leaned back in her chair.

"Beats me. I'm not even sure he was going to school at this point. But…his dad insists that he was a good kid."

Ferg huffed under his breath.

"That's what all parents say."

"I know. So…let's find out for ourselves."

xxx

In contrast to the neighborhood Samuel Bradley lived in, the area of Cumberland County that Jonathan Mixon and his nephew called home was run down and lived in. It didn't particularly seem like a bad area, just an older part of town where the money had moved on and left the residential streets looking the part.

Vic pulled up to the small house. The paint on the siding was peeling and the yard looked like it needed cutting. The driveway was cracked with fissures that left it sloped unevenly. Vic glanced at the small pickup truck she walked by on her way to the front door. She looked at the battered screen door and rang the bell.

She could hear the doorbell chime inside, but heard nothing else. Vic waited a couple of minutes before ringing the bell again. Tapping her foot on the front stoop, looked up at the sun making its way through the sky, easing into late afternoon. The day was passing her by. Vic stepped back from the door and looked around the house again. She didn't see any lights on inside, nor did she hear anything either time she rang the bed.

Walking over to the truck, she placed her palm on the hood. It was cool. Vic sighed and walked around the side of the house. In the backyard, she was met with more of the same. Overgrown grass, weeds, and miscellaneous items littered the small space. As far as she could see no one appeared to be home.

"Shit."

Vic walked back to her truck and opened her glove box. Pulling out a wrinkled pad and pen, she jotted a note, writing her name and her cell phone number at the bottom of the sheet. Tearing it free, she returned to the house and wedged the note into the screen door where there was no way it could be missed.

With little else to do, but wait, she left.

xxx

"At least the family will have some closure. Once the ID is official."

Vic looked up from where she was pushing the food on her plate around.

"Yeah."

Walt pushed his own plate slightly out of his way so that he could rest his arms on the table.

"Not hungry?"

Vic shook her head and dropped her fork onto the plate with a clatter.

"No."

Walt nodded and stood up.

"Here…I'll take it."

Vic passed him the plate and stood up as well. She trailed him to the sink where he deposited the plates on the counter. Turning, he looked at her and Vic knew what was coming before he ever said it.

"Are you alright?"

She shrugged.

"I guess."

Walt extended his hand and placed it on her shoulder.

"Why don't you go sit. Or take a shower. I'll clean this up."

A smile tugged at her face.

"A shower sounds nice."

Walt squeezed her shoulder before releasing it.

"Go on."

Vic left him in the kitchen, the sounds of water running in the sink and the clink of dishes background noise as she walked into the bedroom. Shedding her clothes, she turned on the water and waited for it to warm up. Steam started to drift from the shower and Vic stepped under the spray. Walt's suggestion was a good one. The hot water felt good on her neck and back muscles, making them feel warm and loose in a way they hadn't all day. She didn't even realize how tightly wound she was until she tried not to be. Vic tilted her head this way and that, trying to let the water work its magic all the way around her neck and shoulders.

Resting her palms flat on the shower wall, she tipped her head forward so that the water landed on the back of her head and ran down her neck and back. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the steam and the scent of shampoo. There was something about it that made her feel grounded and safe, as odd as that sounded. Maybe, because she associated the smell with being at home.

It was a sensation that struck her more often the older she got.

Vic finally shut the water off and stepped out, drying herself off quickly. The air in the bathroom was warm and damp from the shower running. Vic dressed quickly in yoga pants and one of Walt's t-shirts. It was an older one, the green long faded. But, the material was impossibly soft and there seemed to be a permanent smell about it that made her think of Walt when he was just out of the shower. Vic nearly rolled her eyes at herself. She wasn't sure at what point, she had gotten so sappy. Shrugging off the thoughts, she toweled her hair and then combed it out, so that it wouldn't be tangled later. She ran her hand across the mirror, clearing up some of the condensation that beaded up there and gave herself a long look.

She looked tired. She could admit that. Vic set her comb aside and ran her fingers through the still damp strands of her hair. It was longer now that it had been for some time, falling below her shoulders and partially down her back. She needed to find time to get it cut. Or, trimmed at the very least. The darkness of her roots was showing through more as well. She still colored it, but the hue was more natural now, a darker blond that seemed to mix well with the natural dark color she shared with her entire family. She had considered letting the natural color return. Originally, the change in color was because she was trying to hide herself away out here. Back then, the new shade of blond seemed foreign and made her feel unlike herself. Over time, she had grown to like the color. As she settled into life in Wyoming, she settled into a new version of herself. That's what it felt like, anyway.

Vic knew that she had changed a lot during her time in Wyoming. She wasn't the same person who had boarded a plane in Philadelphia and landed in the vast, unfamiliar landscape of the American west. Little by little, she shed some of her old self. Part of her slipped away as a new version emerged. A version that she wasn't entirely comfortable with in the beginning. But, now she could see it for what it was. It wasn't so much a new version as it was a truer one. The person that she had been in Philly was so shaped by her life there and her family. The expectations she carried. Out here, there was nothing to anchor her except for her shaky marriage. Her marriage had turned into a victim of her newer self. She knew that now in a way she couldn't see it then.

She changed and Sean didn't. They already had their problems. But, the move out here was the proverbial last straw. With no one to turn to, she turned to herself and found parts of herself that she didn't know existed. She forged new friendships that stripped away some of her former self and created a newness that took her some time to accept. It was someone that Sean struggled to accept.

Her experience here was unique to this time and this place. They were experiences that she wouldn't have had in Philly. It wouldn't have been possible. Had she stayed, she would be an entirely different person. She knew that. Before coming to Durant, Vic hadn't ever realized how much of a person's identity was related to their surroundings. Not that she was completely different. The root of her personality never changed. She was still the same person, just an evolved and adapted version of that person.

By the time Vic returned to the living room, the dishes were done and Walt was on the couch. He looked up as she came in with questions in his eyes and a spark of concern.

"Thought you got lost."

Vic shook her head as she sat down beside him on the couch and pulled her feet up, tucking them underneath her.

"Sorry. Got distracted."

His brow furrowed.

"Something you want to talk about?"

She nearly told him no just as an instinctive reaction. But, the word never crossed her lips. She turned her eyes to the fire and watched the flicker of the flames as they overtook a log that Walt had added just minutes before. The smell of charred wood met her senses.

"I need a haircut."

The comment seemed out of place. But, that was the thought that created all the introspection back in the bathroom. Walt reached out and slid his fingers through the strands, letting them slip silkily through. His touching of her hair was an almost constant thing, more of a habit now than anything. She knew, in the beginning, he touched her because he could. Because it was something he denied himself for so long. She knew because she touched him then for the same reason. It didn't even have to be an intimate touch. Just her hand on his leg was enough. It was the contact itself that she craved, not the method or location.

Over time, the need slipped away some. She didn't feel driven to touch him out of some long held, but suppressed desire. She touched him because she knew that he liked it. And, she liked it. He felt solid and strong under her hands, grounding and calming. Walt was steady and that worked in counterpoint to the more spontaneous and explosive aspects of her own personality.

"It is long."

That was all he offered on the matter. Walt wasn't one to voice his opinion on how she should look or wear her hair. He never had been. On occasion, he would comment on liking something she wore or how she did her hair, but those moments were rare, unless she asked him outright. That was just his nature.

He was observant, but not particularly vocal about it.

She smiled and tilted her head into the contact of his fingers still brushing through her hair. Vic closed her eyes and just existed in the moment. It was something she knew they all did too little of. When she opened her eyes, Walt's blue eyes were on her and serious. He didn't give his concerns a voice so much as merely watch her. His hand fell away as Vic moved and pushed her hair out of her face. She turned and sidled up to him, pressing herself into his side. He was warm and familiar.

That was what she felt when they were alone together like this with all the distractions of the world away from them, back in the limits of town. Most of the time, she could keep those things at bay here at the cabin. Walt lifted his arm and waited while she settled in and found a comfortable position before he lowered his arm around her, pulling her snugly against him.

"What's going on?"

Vic inhaled and allowed him to fill her senses. The smell of him. The softness of his denim shirt. The brush of his arm hair over her skin where the sleeves of his shirt were cuffed from when he washed the dishes.

"Do you ever feel like you've changed?"

Walt tilted his head in her direction.

"How so?"

She shrugged.

"Just…changed."

She felt his chest expand with a breath.

"Sure. Everyone changes."

"How have you changed? Recently."

Walt was quiet for a moment. She knew that he could sense when she was being serious, but in a conversational way. She could almost hear the thoughts pinging around in head, working to form some coherent thought. An honest answer to the question that she posed.

"I'm happy."

She smiled.

"Mmm."

It was a merely a sound that escaped her. A thoughtful one. Walt continued, his words slow and thoughtful.

"For a long time, I wasn't. Then…I was happy, but afraid. Now…just happy. Maybe…maybe happy isn't the word I'm looking for. Content."

That sounded more like Walt.

"Content."

She repeated the word back to him and felt his head shift a little. Maybe he was nodding. She wasn't sure. Her eyes were on the fire still.

"Yep. Content with where we are and what we have. There was a time when I always felt like I was looking for something. Closure…or someone I felt had wronged me. I don't feel that way anymore."

Vic sniffled a little.

"That all?"

She was teasing him somewhat.

"Do you need more?"

She laughed quietly.

"No. Do you want me to tell you how I think you've changed?"

"Sure."

The word came out quiet and with a hint of humor.

"You're at peace now. When I met you, you were so driven by so many things. Most of them weren't good. It was…fascinating and scary all at the same time. I had never known anyone who…obsessed the way that you did."

"Obsess?"

He pushed the word out.

"Yeah, Walt. There's no other word for it. It was always something. Or…someone."

He understood what she was saying. She could see that on his face.

"Things…they consumed you. Or…you became consumed by them. Maybe that makes more sense. But…I don't see that in your anymore."

"Maybe I just solved all the questions that were bothering me."

She vibrated with another laugh.

"Well, you did. But, you could've found something else if you really wanted to. But…you didn't."

She felt the roughness of his fingertips brush over the skin of her arm as he trailed them up and down, creating goosebumps despite the warmness she was feeling both from the fire and his closeness.

"But…somewhere along the way…you made peace with all of it. With something inside of yourself. I know that…because I've done the same thing."

It was one of the things that bonded them. From the beginning. They had both been searching. Although, Vic hadn't known it at the time. Couldn't have given the thoughts a voice. Not really. It wasn't until she started to see Walt in a different light, and not just as her boss, when she started to realize that she was looking for something.

Being understood. Being wanted. Being accepted.

It was what everyone wanted, really. Some more than others.

She knew her family loved her, as messed up as they could be sometimes. But, they also carried expectations. There was a vision they wanted her to fit and she didn't always want to be that version of herself. Starting over where no one knew her afforded her that luxury even if she hadn't recognized it at the time.

It struck her at times after Walt hired her, when she would make some off-color remark or use language he didn't hear often. Or, when she would toss around attitude like only she could. In those moments, he didn't make a sharp comment like her mother or father might. Or even Sean when he attempted to tamp down those aspects of her personality. He didn't attempt to correct or tell her how she should act. He would simply crack a smile that she could see him fighting or shake his head and look away. Sometimes, he would even argue with her on whatever point she was trying to get across. But, he never pushed her to be different like so many other prominent people in her life.

It was a thing she hadn't ever experienced before. Acceptance. A simple concept, yet more complicated than most people realized. He got her in a way no one else did. Even her husband. At the time, she had ignored the gravity of that idea. But, over time, it invaded her mind and she fell in deeper with Walt even as she pulled away from Sean.

It could be funny how you didn't realize how much you were changing until the transformation was nearly complete. She knew now that was one of the reasons she turned to him after her shooting. After losing her baby. It was the thing that made her wish she told him earlier, even though she hadn't known how. Walt, in all his Walt-ness, had offered himself to her in the only way he knew how. With the same acceptance and steadiness that she had come to rely on from him.

In hindsight, that awful period of time when he pulled away from her and shut her out, almost seemed necessary now. She hadn't realized just how much she relied on him until he was no longer there for her. Afterwards, she felt like a kite being taken away on a spring breeze with no twine to reign it in.

Sometimes, it took the absence of something to let you know just how much you needed it. And, took it for granted. She thought she was ready for him. That he was ready for her. But, they weren't. They were both still in transition to the versions of themselves that they needed to be in order for them to come together.

Sometimes, connection was less about desire and more about the moment being right. And, being ready.

"You have."

His voice broke into her thoughts. Vic closed her eyes and turned her face into his shirt, inhaling. There was no shortage of words for it. Change. Transformation. Maturing. Understanding. They were all accurate in their own way. No doubt, they would both continue to change. Evolution never really stopped.

"I get scared sometimes, Walt."

The comment seemed to come out of nowhere and grabbed his attention. She could feel the change in his posture.

"Of what?"

The wonder in his tone was obvious.

"Of my feelings for you."

Walt dipped his face into her hair.

"Why does that scare you?"

"Because I don't know what I'll do without you someday."

She heard him exhale. It was nothing new, her grapple with mortality. Primarily his. Experiencing great loss tended to make a person sensitive to it happening again. Walt knew that, too. It was another bond they shared.

Loss.

She knew he was simply better at hiding it. Keeping it to himself for her benefit as well as his own. Walt tended to spiral when he gave into the darkness. So, he didn't dwell on it. She knew that about him. She wasn't much different. But, for her, it could be more immediate. More sudden in its appearance.

Walt told her it was stress from trauma. She didn't disagree with him. But, she sometimes grew frustrated with herself for allowing it overtake her at times. It was better now than in the beginning. She thought of it less than she had then. But, the thought of his not being there could still take her breath away and freeze her on the spot.

Walt assured her it would continue to get better. And, she trusted that he was right. He knew better than most. She could already see the difference from one year to the next. It was usually something work related that brought it on. That was certainly the case this time. Death in youth was never easy. Death for anyone was hard. But, thinking of someone young and with their entire future spread out in front of them could be sobering. Overwhelming.

It forced her to think of her own mortality. And Walt's. Walt's was harder for her to digest. To process. She felt his hand on her face as he sat up, forcing her to do the same. His hand guided her face to his, her eyes to his.

"Vic."

It was a talent of his. Saying so much with so little. She swallowed and offered up a smile.

"I know."

He tipped his head and pressed his lips to her forehead. It was subtle the way he could pull her back from the brink and make her feel normal again. It was so very much Walt.