Ch. 5: Obscure
Walt lay in the bed feeling wide awake. His earlier conversation with Vic was fresh on his mind. Her shift in moods wasn't unexpected. Sometimes, she got this way when dealing with a particularly difficult case. When he first hired her, she hid it better. Kept those thoughts out of his sight and inside of herself. But, as time passed, she allowed him to see more of what she kept beneath the surface.
Vic was tough. He would never dispute that. She had been through some experiences, mentally and physically, that would destroy most people. She walked along a dangerous edge for a while after that made him wonder if she would make it through. But, she did. In the end, she came out the other side. He would like to say unscathed. But, that was never true. It was impossible to stare death in the face and not having lasting effects.
He suspected for some time after her first encounter with Chance Gilbert that she suffered from some degree of post-traumatic stress. Any person would. Any human. But, he hadn't been fully in her life then. They were toeing the line in dangerous fashion. But, she was married. That was a line they never crossed. Not physically, anyway.
But, it was her second run-in with Gilbert that nearly destroyed her. In more ways than one. She was different after that and they both knew it. There was no point in pretending. That was the final unveiling. Once she allowed him full access, he never looked back.
What he came to understand was that most people had no idea what she was really like. Sure, she was tough and prone to profanity. She had a borderline raunchy sense of humor. But, those aspects of her personality were on the surface, a product of her upbringing. The secret that lay underneath that facade was that she was extremely sensitive and she felt things deeply. It hadn't really surprised him because he had seen small glimpses of it while working with her.
He knew she was having dreams. Maybe nightmares. She hadn't outright told him and denied remembering any dreams when she woke up. But, she was restless these days while she slept and a few times, he woke up to find her gone from bed. He honestly couldn't say if she was just keeping it from him or if she genuinely didn't remember the dreams. It wasn't like her to keep things from him now. That didn't mean she didn't on occasion. It was a sin they were both guilty of from time to time.
She was sleeping beside him now, peacefully it seemed. It was in stark contrast to the some of the restless nights she experienced recently. The room was dark around them. The door to the living room was partially open to allow warm air in from the fire. In the darkness that surrounded him, he could detect an occasional pop from the fire and the steady rhythm of Vic breathing.
There was a moon tonight and slivers of light were highlighting narrow sections of the room. But, not Vic. If he strained, he could make out the shape of her, but not her features or the expression on her face. Still, he knew her well and he didn't need to see her face to get a read on her. He knew that she was on her back with her head turned away from him. One hand rested on her stomach and the other was stretched down the line of her body between them. That much he could work out with what little visual he had. Every so often, she would move a little or her fingers would twitch. Otherwise, she was still. The easy rhythm of her breathing told him that she was relaxed in her sleep and not plagued by whatever dreams were keeping her up lately.
Vic's expression of her thoughts and admittance to him earlier both startled and touched him. It was easy to fall into the habit of everyday living and not looking too hard at life. Everyone did it. Recognizing the mistake in that was normally brought to the surface by a death, or even a marriage.
Taking stock.
Normally.
But, they weren't normal. They never really were. They were both well acquainted with the sharp sting of loss and the cavernous void it left in its wake. The way it could consume and overshadow every other aspect of your life. Storm clouds taking over the landscape and pushing out the sun.
He promised himself, and Vic on some level, that he wouldn't take the everyday for granted. Not anymore. Still, it was habit and human nature to slip into routine. They all did it. But, there were times when he would look at her a certain way. It was normally completely unexpected when she wasn't doing anything extraordinary. The way she tilted her head to the side when she was in the kitchen in a rare attempt at cooking. The way the space between her eyes furrowed when she was reading, concentrating. The way her eyes would almost light up with intensity when she was trying to piece together a mystery of some kind. The way she would smile at him when they were lying in bed, talking about nothing all soft and dreamlike. The way her fingers would brush over his skin when they were sitting on the couch without any real thought.
It was in simple moments like those that it would strike him like a snake hidden in tall grass, sharp and sudden. The feelings that she evoked in him would swell up and threaten to bubble over. Or, he would feel a sharp desire for her. Right then. Every so often, she would catch him watching her in those moments. He could only assume it was something she saw on his face. She would give him a smile and a tilt of her head as she questioned what he was looking at or why he was distracted.
Sometimes, he caught her doing the same thing. She would almost always hold his gaze then, her eyes not wavering. Vic normally held her ground in almost any situation, even the most personal. It wasn't in her nature to shy away.
She moved, drawing his attention from his thoughts and back to the present moment. With a low grunt, she rolled onto her side away from him, her head readjusting itself on the pillow. It was hard not to touch her. He wanted to. He wanted to reach out and move the hair that was across her check. He wanted to trace fingers down the bare skin of her arm or press his mouth to the spot on her neck where the shirt she was wearing, his shirt, was partially hanging off her shoulder.
But, that ran the risk of waking her and he didn't want to do that. She needed this sleep. He was well aware of that. He refused to be the reason she woke up in the middle of the night. So, he carefully settled in behind her, feeling the body heat that was rolling off her. He gently moved his hand so that it rested on her hip and shifted his head so that it was close enough to smell her hair.
She moved once more before falling still, pushing back against him the slightest bit. Walt exhaled a breath and allowed his eyes to drift closed. He wasn't sure how much sleep he would get with his worry for her coursing through his mind, but that was okay.
For everything that brought him to this moment, it was well worth the price.
xxx
The smell of the barn took some getting used to. For Vic, anyway. The intermingling smell of horse, manure, and hay wasn't the nicest smell ever. But, it also wasn't completely unpleasant. There was something to be said for the earthiness of it all. The basic fundamentals that made up those odors. It was as natural a smell as the air after rain or flowers in the late spring once the snow receded.
That was where Vic found herself. A dream woke her up. That time, she knew it was a dream. She was able to recall some small bits of it, but nothing particularly coherent. Wisps, really, of fleeting sounds and visions. When her eyes opened and she looked around the bedroom, her mind allowing reality to seep back in, she was in bed and Walt was sleeping beside her.
Having no desire to face his questions or worries, she left the warmth of the bed and dressed hastily in the first clothes her hands landed on. She really wanted coffee. But, the smell would wake him. She wanted a little time to herself before that happened.
She grabbed her boots from where they sat by the door and carried them outside, easing the door shut behind her. On the porch, she shoved her feet into them, tucked her hands into the pockets of the hooded sweatshirt she wore, and started across the yard. She didn't really consider her destination. She just aimed for the barn out of habit.
Pushing the door open, she was accosted by the smells that it contained. Smells she once would have turned her nose up against. Sometimes, she still did. But, they weren't overly strong this morning. Only Lady was in the barn. Horse much preferred his freedom while the weather allowed it.
The old mare lifted her head when she heard the soles of Vic's boots crunch over the loose dirt that littered the floor of the barn. Fallen pieces of oats and hay crunched in her wake. She paused just at the horse's stall and leaned on it.
Lady swung her head in Vic's direction and Vic offered up a handful of feed she scooped up on her way by the waterproof barrel Walt kept it in. The horse's velvety lips moved over her palm, sweeping up the food in less than two seconds. Vic dropped her hand to her side and swiped it over her jeans.
Reaching up, she ran her hand over the mare's nose, scratching in just the right spot. Lady's tail swished at some unseen pest and she pressed her nose into Vic's hands. Vic couldn't help but smile. She didn't remember ever having a particular affinity for horses the way most young girls did. Her thoughts were of target practice and being better than her brothers at anything they tried together. In urban Philadelphia, horses were something she saw once in a while and gave little thought to.
But, this particular mare worked its way into her heart in a way no other animal had in recent memory. Lady's life hadn't been easy before coming to live with them and it showed. Still, the animal seemed to know that her worries were over and her personality was pleasant. She was always eager to be brushed or patted.
Vic found some level of solace in the simplicity of it all. Her relationship with the horse wasn't complicated. Animals didn't carry the same expectations and prejudices that their human counterparts did. The horse was perfectly content with her and she with the horse. Both gave what the other sought without any preconceived notions about what they might get in return.
She knew Walt found her relationship with the horse amusing. Admittedly, she wasn't crazy about horses when she arrived in Wyoming and for some time after that. Unfamiliar ones still made her nervous. Even Horse, at times. He wasn't placid in the way that Lady was. Horse possessed a wild streak that would never really go away. And, while Vic understood it being a bit the same way, his unpredictable nature gave her pause.
Vic stepped inside the stall, brush in hand and started to run it over the horse's coat. It was thickening for winter, wooly and course under her hands. Dirt and small bits of hay fell away as the brush pushed through. Vic knew she didn't have much time. She promised herself and Lady that she would come down on the next day she was off and spend more time here. Her current caseload kept her away and she missed the calmness being with Lady brought her.
Vic sighed and stepped back. The horse looked her way with big, brown eyes. Honest eyes. Vic smiled and set the brush aside.
"That's all for now, girl. I gotta go."
Giving the horse one final pat, she left the stall and the barn, making her way back to the cabin. Walt was up by then and she smelled the coffee he was brewing immediately. Vic shed her boots and washed her hands. He looked her way with a curiosity he didn't bother trying to hide.
"Morning."
Vic gave him a half smile as she dried her hands and pulled open the cabinet door.
"Morning."
"Were you at the barn?"
Vic nodded as she set two coffee cups on the counter near him.
"Yeah. Haven't been down in a while."
Walt watched her closely. She knew what he was doing. But, she didn't want to get into it. Not this morning and not with everything that was going on. Right now, she just wanted a normal morning and normal conversation. She knew what kind of heaviness the day would hold. Right now, all she wanted was some coffee.
"Want some breakfast?"
Vic mulled his question before shaking her head. Her appetite wasn't really intact at the moment.
"No thanks."
She noticed the furrow on his brow at her answer.
"You shouldn't skip breakfast."
Vic smiled in response. She hoped it looked genuine, but she couldn't guarantee that.
"Most important meal of the day, right?"
Before Walt could answer, she spoke again.
"I'll grab something later."
The tone she used wasn't cross, but it also didn't invite further discussion on the topic. Walt's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before they moved back to the coffee that was brewing.
xxx
She was back at the run-down house. Vic noted that the small pickup was still in the driveway along with an older model green sedan. Pockets of rust dotted the faded paint and the back bumper was dented. Maybe someone was home this time. Vic rang the bell and waited. Again, she heard nothing inside the house. But, a sound from the back of the house grabbed her attention. Vic slowly walked around the house, her hand resting near her holstered Glock.
She stopped when she saw a man walking around the backyard looking up and towards the house. He didn't notice her. From where she stood, Vic could see the man well enough to know it was Jonathan Mixon. She saw a mug shot when she ran a check on him. He was a man in his fifties, possibly around Walt's age. His hair was blond and thinning. He was average in height and weight with nothing that really stood out about him except for his arrest record.
Two for DUI and once for domestic violence involving an incident with his ex-wife. Those charges were dropped eventually. Vic cleared her throat and spoke.
"Jonathan Mixon."
He didn't startle when he heard her. He merely turned his head and looked her way. Vic slowly closed the distance between them, her hands still resting on her belt. He nodded at her, raising one arm to wipe his face.
"Yeah, that's me."
Vic ran her eyes over him.
"Deputy Moretti. I left you a note yesterday."
She could tell by his expression that he knew what she was talking about.
"Oh. That was you."
"Yeah…I was hoping you would call me."
He shrugged like the idea was an afterthought.
"Sorry. Busy."
His tone suggested that he wasn't sorry at all. He hitched his fingers in his beltless loops and relaxed his posture.
"Got a damn squirrel getting into my attic space. Trying to figure out where."
Vic nodded a little.
"Bummer."
He smiled.
"Yeah. So…Deputy Moretti, what can I do for you? That's not a Cumberland County uniform."
Vic shook her head.
"Absaroka."
"Right. Neighbors. So…you're a little out of your jurisdiction. What's up?"
He sounded causal. A little too much so.
"We're working on an investigation. A death."
He didn't flinch, but his eyes widened a bit.
"What does that have to do with me?"
Vic's eyes stayed on the man, gauging him.
"The victim was Nate Bradley."
Mixon tilted his head.
"Nate? Hell. What happened?"
Vic studied the man.
"I can't comment on an ongoing investigation. I talked to his father and he told me that Nate was living with you and your nephew."
Mixon nodded and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Yeah, he and Luke were friends."
"So…he was still living here?"
Mixon shrugged.
"On and off. They came and went. Boys…you know."
"Came and went."
She was looking for clarity. Mixon shuffled his feet over the dirt.
"Yeah, they were spending a lot of time at some…I don't know…commune or something."
That was news.
"Commune?"
"Yeah, I guess that's what you would call it. Bunch of teens sort of camping out. Nomadic, you know."
Vic frowned.
"You weren't concerned?"
He shook his head.
"No. They're not bad kids. No one was getting in any trouble or bothering me. When I was that age, I was all over the place, staying with friends. And, I was getting into a hell of a lot more scrapes than these kids."
"Can you tell me the last time you saw him?"
She could see him thinking.
"Week or so ago. Maybe."
Vic sighed with frustration.
"Can you narrow that down?"
He reached up and scratched at the back of his neck.
"Not really. I work nights. So…didn't see the boys all that much."
Vic pushed on.
"Were they in school?"
"Yeah, yeah they were. Nate was still going to school in Sheridan. I was letting him use my truck."
"The one out front?"
"Yeah."
"So…do you know where he went the last time you saw him?"
"Can't say."
It was clear she wasn't getting anything useful from him.
"Your nephew…Lucas…I need to talk to him. Do you know where he is?"
"He should be in school."
"Do you have a number I can reach him at?"
Mixon folded his arms across his chest, telling her that he was done with her questions.
"I'll tell him about Nate. Be better coming from me."
"I need to talk to him about Nate."
Mixon looked at the ground and back up.
"Deputy, I've answered all your questions. But…Luke is a kid. And, this isn't your county. So…unless you've got a reason to arrest him, I don't want you messing around here."
Vic's jaw flexed.
"I can get the Cumberland Sheriff involved."
Mixon merely nodded, either genuinely not concerned or thinking the comment merely a threat.
"Do that. Then maybe we'll talk."
xxx
It wasn't a secret that the Absaroka and Cumberland County Sheriff Departments weren't always on the same page. At least, not to those who paid attention. Walt Longmire and Jim Wilkins were never what anyone would call friends. They cooperated with each other when necessary. But, Walt's propensity for overstepping county lines to get at the truth combined with Wilkins' territorialism didn't mesh well at all. Wilkins teaming up with the former mayor of Absaroka County during the Tucker Baggett murder investigation along with his testimony in Walt's civil suit were the final threads that were pulled completely apart in the relationship between the neighboring departments.
Vic had little use for Jim Wilkins. The dislike was partially rooted in the man's issues with Walt. She was willing to admit that. But, it was more than that. She questioned Wilkins' loyalty to his own job. He wasn't above looking the other way when it came to profitable companies working within his county and bending the law. Where she always considered Walt a man who couldn't be bought or bribed, Jim Wilkins was a man with a price. The kind of man who made her life hell in Philly.
Unfortunately, name recognition went a long way in local elections and Jim Wilkins had that in spades. For years, he hadn't faced a serious challenger for Sheriff, extending his reign over the law enforcement of Cumberland County. However, like with most things recently, a shift had occurred. The man's seeming intense dislike for Walt began to overshadow everything else. It started with a handful of well-known constituents and spread from there in the same way that Durant began to turn against Sawyer Crane once Walt was cleared in both his civil trial and the murder investigation. For the first time in years, Wilkins winning the position of Sheriff wasn't a sure thing.
Vic couldn't work up any sympathy for the man when she heard that he lost the election. There was certainly no love lost between the two of them. Their dislike for each other was mutual. Walt wasn't a reader of the paper. He never was. He was of the opinion that current papers put too much spin on the news and failed to report that facts. It was a difficult position to argue with. Anything that was truly important, he heard about soon enough. Vic, however, glanced at the news once a day or so. Not in an involved manner, but a quick scan of headlines. That was how she found out.
The subject briefly pulled her attention and she read up on the election and a quick summary of the opponent who started a new era in Cumberland County law enforcement. Beyond that, she hadn't followed the situation any further. In recent months, she was busy with her own issues and didn't have time to worry about what went on outside the confines of her day to day life. Still, she had some recollection of the man. She knew that he worked for the highway patrol for years before deciding to run for Sheriff. He seemed like a good fit for a place that was wanting honest change and a Sheriff with a strong background in upholding the law regardless of who was breaking it.
She knew that Cady met him briefly and mentioned that he seemed nice enough. But, that was as far as she went with it. Vic knew the basics. He was in his late forties and was a lifelong resident of Cumberland County. A made to order Sheriff when you thought about it.
Parking her truck in the lot at the Cumberland County Sheriff's Department, she slid from her seat and hung her sunglasses on her shirt as she walked inside. Cumberland was a more populated county than Absaroka. That resulted in a larger department with more staffing. Still small by comparison to a larger metropolis. But, certainly more extensive than their four-person office in Durant.
The Sheriff knew that she was coming. She called ahead to ensure that he was in the office before stopping by. It was getting late in the day and she didn't want to waste her time if she wasn't actually going to be able to see him face to face.
She was familiar enough with the office to know where the man would be once the clerk on the front desk told her that he was in his office and expecting her. The door to the office was open. He looked up when Vic tapped on the doorframe and stood up. He was a tall man, about the same height as Walt. But, not as broad. The figure he cut was trim and somewhat lean. He was close to fifty and he looked it. But, not in a bad way. In a lived-in way that reminded her of Walt. If she had to guess, she would say they were cut from the same cloth. Men of similar ideals and work ethic.
He offered her a polite nod as she walked into his office. A hat hung on a peg behind his desk. A cowboy styled hat, naturally. Brown in color. His hair was light brown, maybe dark blond if the sun hit it just right and thinning a bit on top. His eyes were blue, lighter than Walt's, closer in color to Branch. He offered her his hand, which she shook. His palm was rough. A man who worked.
"Sheriff. Vic Moretti."
"Deputy Moretti. Carson Cooper."
His name struck her. Two last names. Maybe his first name was a family name. Still, it seemed to fit him. She pulled her hand back and offered him a smile.
"Thanks for taking the time."
He nodded and gestured at a chair sitting across from his large desk.
"Have a seat."
Vic sat down and leaned back in the chair, settling in. She could see him taking her in. Measuring her, no doubt. If experience taught her anything in this part of the county, he wouldn't have worked with very many women. She knew there weren't any on his staff. Cooper retook his seat and placed his arms on the desk, leaning in a bit.
"You work for Cady Longmire."
It wasn't a question.
"I do. But…she's out right now."
He nodded.
"I heard. Hell of a thing. I trust she's recovering."
"She is. She's hoping to be back in a few weeks."
A beat of silence passed between them.
"What brings you by? We don't hear much from your department."
Vic smiled at the comment.
"We're investigating a death. A teenage boy. He was found a few nights ago buried in the woods."
Cooper's expression shifted.
"I saw something in the paper about it. How's the investigation going?"
Vic frowned.
"That's why I'm here. We've identified the victim. I interviewed his father and he told me that his son was living with a friend, who recently moved to Cumberland. I spoke to that boy's uncle in trying to nail down some kind of timeline as to our victim's whereabouts and who he might've been with. He balked when I asked about questioning his nephew."
Cooper considered her words.
"Because you have no jurisdiction here."
"Yeah. Pretty much."
His blue eyes stayed on her. He was a man who was hard to read. Vic wouldn't want to play poker with him. He tapped one index finger on his desk before he leaned back and clasped his hands in his lap.
"I'm aware of the history between our departments."
Vic shifted in her chair.
"I'm not interested in rehashing the past, Sheriff. I'm only interested in solving this case and giving this kid some justice."
He was still watching her in the same seemingly neutral manner.
"You worked for Walt Longmire."
She tried not to sigh.
"I did. What does that have to do with anything?"
For a second, she wondered how much he knew about Walt. In the next few seconds, he answered her question.
"And, you're married to him."
The comment told her that he followed the news. God knew, they spent their fair share of time in the papers. Early on, with unfounded lies that they were in a relationship when they weren't. Last winter, they were in the paper again after an old acquaintance of Walt's returned and attempted to kill them both. In a slow news cycle, that was front page material around here. Former Sheriff kills old foe.
Vic shook the thoughts from her mind and forced herself to focus.
"What's your point?"
That earned her a partial smile from the man.
"No point. Just an observation. Your department is…interesting."
Vic leaned forward in her chair.
"Okay…so…"
He smiled again.
"You get right to it, don't you? I like that. Just for the record, I'm no fan of Jim Wilkins. That's why I ran against him."
Vic smiled then.
"Well, we have that in common."
Something in his posture loosened. She must have passed whatever test he was giving her in his mind.
"You want me to go with you to question this man."
Vic nodded in response.
"You…or someone who can actually arrest him if need be."
Cooper huffed out a quiet laugh.
"Right. Is tomorrow good for you? It's a little late now."
"Tomorrow is fine. Maybe then the nephew will be home."
Cooper dipped his chin a little.
"Good. I'll call you in the morning and we can set up a time."
Vic pushed up from her chair.
"Thank you. We appreciate all the help we can get."
Cooper stood.
"No problem. There's no reason our departments shouldn't work together when the need arises. Put the bad blood to rest. I've…never met your husband. But, his reputation precedes him in these parts. He was Sheriff for a long time and I certainly respect the work he's done."
Vic offered him a smile. A real one.
Leaving the office, she put her sunglasses back on and glanced up at the sky overhead. It was sunny today with a slight chill to the air. Vic knew the chill would only tighten its grip as the days passed and fall inched into winter.
Behind the wheel of her truck, she started it and gave the horizon one last look. Something tugged at her. Something that she couldn't name and it made her feel somber for a reason that she couldn't pinpoint. It could've been the investigation itself. Or, possibly the changing of the seasons and the long winter that lay ahead.
Vic couldn't say for sure and she didn't want to dwell on it. Pushing the dark thoughts aside, she pulled out and headed for Absaroka County and home.
xxx
"I met the new Cumberland County Sheriff today."
That comment grabbed Walt's attention. He looked at her with raised brows as they sat on the couch.
"This about your case or something different?"
"Same case. The uncle I told you about lives in Cumberland. He answered my questions. Sort of. But, when I mentioned speaking to his nephew, he clammed up. Told me I had no jurisdiction. When I mentioned I could involve his county Sheriff, he told me to go ahead."
"So…naturally, you did."
Vic smiled at his comment and the knowing tone in his voice.
"Bet your ass."
Walt smiled a little.
"What's the Sheriff like?"
Vic turned so that she was facing Walt and lay her head back on the arm of the couch. Stretching her legs out, she put her sock clad feet in his lap and settled in, trying to get comfortable.
"He reminds me of you."
That seemed to interest him.
"Really?"
Her chin dipped towards her chest.
"Some. Seems like a straight shooter. He mentioned that he wasn't on good terms with Wilkins. That, alone, wins him points in my book."
Walt placed his right hand over one of her ankles and started to trace his fingers along the soft threads of her socks.
"Jim wasn't so bad when he first started out. In the beginning, he seemed to have good intentions. But…a job like that…it can make or break a body. You know? Some people can't handle power."
Her face softened.
"I saw what it did to you sometimes. But, you never…compromised your principles, Walt. Not like Wilkins. Anyway, he's willing to ride out there with me and question them. Can't ask for more than that."
Walt nodded.
"Yep."
He continued to move his hands over her ankle, his fingers slipping under the hem of her pants leg. Her eyes closed at the motion, her body relaxing into his touch and the couch. Silence stretched out around them, punctuated by the logs in the fireplace shifting as they burned. Vic had nearly fallen asleep when she felt his hand stop moving. Still, she made no move to sit up or open her eyes.
"Vic."
He said her name softly, maybe wondering if she had fallen asleep. Vic's eyes stayed closed as she spoke.
"I'm awake."
One finger tapped on her foot and the motion caused her eyes to open. He was watching her with an expression that told her there was something on his mind. Vic frowned a bit, not knowing what he was thinking.
"What?"
He held her eyes for a moment.
"I want to ask you something. And, I want you to tell me the truth."
Her frown deepened at his words.
"When do I not tell you the truth?"
Her unhappiness at his insinuation was clear. Still, Walt didn't answer her question. Instead, he posed one of his own.
"Are you having nightmares?"
Vic bit her bottom lip and pulled it between her teeth. This wasn't the first time this subject had been broached. But, he seemed different this time. More determined and not as soft as he seemed just minutes earlier.
"Nightmares?"
She echoed the word back to him. Walt nodded, his eyes staying on her and not giving her any space to retreat or hedge her answer.
"Yeah. You've been restless at night. And, you've been waking up in the middle of the night. I know…in the past, you've had dreams. Bad ones. Is it happening again?"
She started to speak and then paused. She was still laid back with her feet in his lap and Walt's hand still rested on her foot like it had for the majority of the conversation. He figured her knee jerk reaction was denial. He could almost see it when it crossed her face. When she held back, he thought she might be reconsidering her answer.
"I don't know."
She pushed the words out on a breath. Walt tilted his head.
"You don't know."
Vic shook her head.
"No. I don't. When I wake up, I don't remember."
Walt inclined his head towards her knowing there was more
"But?"
Vic sighed.
"But…it's possible."
"What makes you say that?"
He never made things easy.
"Because when I wake up…it feels like maybe I did. Have a dream."
Walt took in her answer. His eyes were serious.
"Why didn't you say something?"
She shrugged one shoulder.
"What good would it do? You can't do anything about it."
The surprise that resulted from his question was gone. Now, she was more herself. Pushing back the way that she always did. Walt was more than capable of his own push.
"Does it have to do with this case? Is it bothering you that much?"
Vic inhaled deeply. She released the breath slowly.
"I…didn't think it was. But…it's hard."
It wasn't much, but he would take anything she offered up at this point. He still didn't feel like he was getting everything.
"Is there something else?"
Her expression shifted slightly, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. It was enough to tell him that he hit on something. Slowly, she pulled her legs from his lap and swung them onto the floor as she turned, planting her feet on the floor. She leaned forward in a manner that prevented him from getting direct eye contact.
"You worry too much."
He nearly laughed at the statement, but not because it was funny.
"I worry too much?"
Frustration was creeping into his words no matter how hard he tried to keep it at bay.
"The last time I checked, you were the one who always jumped to the worst possible scenario."
She flinched when he said it and regret flooded through him. The last thing that he wanted to do was use her own insecurities against her. But, the words were already out and he had no way of taking them back. He saw her spine stiffen underneath the thin fabric of her t-shirt. Walt took a breath.
"I'm sorry."
She didn't respond to his apology. Walt sat forward, moving closer to her.
"Vic."
Her name came out no more than a murmur. She was looking at the floor, or her hands. He couldn't tell which.
"Vic, I don't want to fight with you. I'm worried about you."
After what felt like an eternity, she raised her face and turned in in his direction. Her eyes still didn't meet his.
"You're right. I haven't been sleeping very much. And…I'm tired."
Vic cleared her throat as she stood up.
"I'm gonna go to bed."
Walt rose quickly, his hand closing around her wrist.
"Vic, if you're mad…"
She shook her head, cutting him off.
"I'm not mad."
She didn't sound like she was. Vic gently slid her wrist from his soft grasp.
"Vic."
He tried again. She raised her face to his.
"I'm not mad, Walt. You have a…a good point. So…I'm gonna try and get some rest. That's…what you want, isn't it? What you're worried about?"
He stepped up to her.
"I'm worried about you."
He repeated the phrase. Vic smiled, but it didn't seem like a real smile. There was something that resembled resignation in it.
"I know. And…I appreciate it. If…I'm keeping you up, I can sleep in the guest room."
Walt shook his head at the suggestion. That was the last thing he wanted. To have her where he couldn't see her.
"No. Vic…"
His words trailed off as she stepped closer to him. Without shoes or boots on, the height difference was pronounced. Vic pushed up on her toes and pressed her mouth to his. She made no move to deepen the kiss, only held the contact steadily before she pulled away a little, her breath warm on his chin and neck.
"I know what you want. But…right now…I can't give it to you. Not yet."
He didn't fully understand what she was saying. But, he could decipher some of the layers her words contained. Whatever was bothering her, other than the case, was something that she wasn't ready to talk about. Or simply didn't want to. He knew from experience that pushing when she wasn't receptive wouldn't get him anything.
At least, she wasn't shutting him out. Not really. She was offering him something, even if it wasn't really what he was looking for. In the past, they were both guilty of holding back. They tried not to be that way, but it was hard for individuals who had grown accustomed to handling their own problems. She was better at expressing herself than he was. That was a fact he wouldn't argue. But, sometimes it took her a while to get to a place where she felt secure enough to talk about it. It was one of the intricacies of her personality. It wasn't desire to hold things back from him. He knew that. It was rooted in the self-reliance that was a hallmark of who she was. And, a trait that first reared its head back when she only worked for him. Back when she was still married to Sean.
"I need you to talk to me."
That time, she smiled and it did seem real. Soft.
"I will."
There was a promise in her words. He knew that was as good as he was going to get from her in the moment. He dipped his face forward so that his forehead touched hers.
"I love you."
Her eyes closed and then she opened them again.
"I know."
With that acknowledgement, she stepped back from him and gestured towards the bedroom.
"I'm going to bed."
Walt nodded.
"I'll be there in a bit."
She left him standing by the couch.
xxx
She didn't like it when things were hard between them. In a perfect world, that would never happen. Unfortunately, they didn't live in an imaginary utopia. The world they inhabited was real and full of unpleasantness. Anytime, two personalities merged, there were bound to be problems. When those same personalities were both stubborn and strong willed, that could be amplified by infinity.
Neither of them was new at this. They were both married before. While, Walt's marriage was a happy one, it was also set during a simpler time in his life. Before tragedy had rocked his existence and reshaped him. He wasn't the same person. Neither was she. Her own marriage hadn't been happy or successful. Vic accepted the part she played in that. She knew what mistakes she made and she knew what it cost her.
Like Walt, her entire world had been shaken and scattered. And, like Walt, she had no choice but to adapt to the change. It you didn't adapt, you didn't make it. That was the most basic rule of nature and it applied to nearly every situation.
He was right about one thing. She was a natural at jumping to conclusions and assuming the worst. Her worries were big, but abstract. She was afraid of losing him. While it was possible and eventual, it wasn't an immediate threat. Walt's concerns for her were different and tailored to what he knew about her. He worried about her emotions and about her frame of mind. He was an expert on the darkest aspects of her personality.
Most of the time, it wasn't an issue. But, trauma was an odd thing. It never really went away. It merely retreated. They both experienced trauma of differing types. But, they processed it differently. And, Walt had a head start on understanding how one came through trauma in the long term. He survived the loss of a spouse, of love. He knew that it was survivable. Not easy, but possible. Vic was closer than in the past. She knew that she could survive loss, but her perception was skewed.
She barely survived the loss of her baby. At times, she hadn't thought she would make it. She was certain that, without Walt's support, she wouldn't have. She knew he would disagree with that assessment. Did disagree. But, he didn't have any proof that backed up his insistence. She lost someone that she never laid eyes on in life. Someone that she never actually knew. And, it nearly ended her. She could recognize that. So, how could she expect to survive the loss of someone she knew and loved? Someone that her life centered around.
It simply didn't seem feasible. Not to her.
From where she lay on the bed with a thousand thoughts swimming through her head, she could hear him in the living room. She could hear the familiar sound of his stride. She could detect when he added a log to the fire. She knew how he would watch it to ensure that it was sufficient. It was merely the sound of everyday living. Most people didn't notice it. Or, they took it for granted. She was that way once.
Sometimes, she forgot and took him for granted. She knew that. It was only human. But, death was a sharp reminder of everything that she had to lose. Thankfully, death wasn't a frequent visitor.
Not now.
There were others, though not as subtle. Situations and moments that took her back to a dark place in her mind and in her heart. They peeled away the scabs that were formed over the hurt places inside of her and opened up the wound, making her vulnerable. She hated the way that felt. She always did.
Right now, Walt was focused on the more tragic aspects of what she was dealing with. Death. He wasn't privy to everything, especially at work. But, Walt was tenacious and he knew her better than anyone. She would have to talk to him. There was no way around it. But, she wasn't sure how to express it. She would seem weak and she never cared for that. Not since she was a kid just starting out in life.
But, she knew Walt would simply shake his head. He didn't mind it when she was weak. He said that showing weakness took strength. At first, she strongly disagreed with the statement. But, she could see what he meant now. It took courage to admit that you needed help. Admitting that was something they both struggled with at times.
Wasn't that what marriage offered, though? It should, anyway. One failed marriage taught her that painful lesson. Walt breaking through her pain in the same deliberate way he did everything else taught her that.
She would talk to him. Open up.
Later.