Chapter Eleven.

"We used to have a dog. Well, he was really more of my dog, I grew up with the mangy bastard, his name was Rufus. I called him Roof, because that's what he did, somethin'. My father, he always told my mother that I needed a friend, but I honestly think it was to make up for the time we never spent together… we were never close.

"Well, we kept Roof until some time around my tenth birthday. That was right when the depression was starting to get really bad. Walter… he used to teach, did you know? Anyways. He'd already gambled away our savings, and he'd lost his job, on top of that. So things were getting thin, and I'd wake up nearly every morning to my mother crying in the kitchen, screaming at my father, and all he would do was stand there. I don't know why he would stand there.

"Roof was all I had.

"One night, Roof just disappeared. He went out for a walk with my father, and he just never came back. My father got home, put meat on the table… but he wouldn't eat anything. For days he wouldn't eat anything, my mother said it was so that we would have enough, the two of us.

"Then, Walter disappeared.

"I asked my mother a few times what happened to him, she could never give me a straight answer. After a few years had gone past, my mom started cashing government checks, she said that Walter joined the military. At first, I was happy- I sort of knew where he was, I'd send him letters every now and again. But I never got a reply. All we got was the check, regularly, supporting us, paying for my schooling… but Walter never came back."

"So then what?" Astrid questioned. They sat in waiting outside the back entrance of the Silver Sand Dollar, a casino Astrid knew Walter frequented, when he had the money. She'd already gone to the front to ask about him, before she realized that Walter almost always came out the back- either to avoid potential collectors or to be thrown into the street, scott broke.

Peter let out a breathy chuckle, pushing his cap up from his eyes, "That certainly is the question, isn't it?"

"Why are you here, if you hate him so much?"

Peter shook his head, "I can't say, actually. How'd he end up with you, then? You seem to have a level head on your shoulders, how'd you get saddled with the bastard?"

Astrid looked up at him with a sharp glare, "Then you don't know Walter at all, do you?"

Peter looked slightly taken aback, before his mouth twisted into a dark grin, "My mistake. I guess you really don't have a level head."

Astrid flushed hotly, "Think what you want. I'm not here to help you, I'm here to protect Walter."

"So what happened to getting to know him, then?"

"I think I'll ask Walter myself, thanks very much." Astrid replied, a bit stiffly.

Peter rolled his eyes, "Have it your way, then." And they continued to sit in silence.

"Walter knew my father," Astrid said at last, and Peter watched her, "I guess it must have been after he left you. He came into the club, back when it was still a big deal, and he was looking for some sort of work. We didn't have anything for him… until he offered to tune the piano for a sandwich. He stayed with us for a few days, then just disappeared again. It was the strangest thing- it didn't go out of tune for years, after that. And when it started to… he just showed up again."

"So you don't know him either?" Peter questioned.

Astrid laughed wryly, "No, I don't."

"Ah, the phantasms that are the travels of one Walter Bishop," Peter clucked his tongue, raising his arms to cross them behind his head and stretch.

"Doctor Walter Bishop," Astrid corrected, but her comment sounded hollow rather than humorous.

Peter and Astrid sat up sharply as there was the distant, tinny crackle of weapons fire, "What was that?" Peter demanded.

"How should I know?" Astrid replied, "It's not our problem, I'm sure it's got nothing to do with…" Sirens began to wail, and a black-and-white police sedan screeched down the alley to pass them, in the direction of the shooting. Shortly following, there sounded small pops of gunfire, and the buzzing whistle of ricochet, "…us…"

"We should get out of here, shouldn't we?" Peter questioned nervously.

"That would probably be best, dear."

xXx

Astrid waited at the greenroom door, her eyes spanning the quiet rush of the crew and band members, preparing for the evening's show. She was certain that he anxiousness showed in her face, as she searched, listened for a familiar laugh, a familiar curse. A time or two she would stop someone in passing, to ask if they'd seen him. They had all only shaken their heads.

Maybe the shooting did have something to do with them, after all.

A familiar dread was seizing Astrid- a worry that she had long ago promised to herself would never hinder her. Walter was a careless man, one that lived on the very edge of a stupid, dangerous world that she never wanted to fully understand. She supposed that, more than anything, she wished he would never go back to it, that he would stay with her, where it was safe… but she knew that someday she would, as Peter had said, simply never see him again.

She had gotten Peter a booth to himself, in a darker portion of the club, where she had promised she would meet him after the show, or if something came up. As of now, she did not know which actions to take… should she do the show alone, or consult with Peter to go out looking for Walter, in case something had happened?

Her head twisted sharply as there drifted in the familiar sound of piano keys, and she bolted from the green room in search of the sound, pushing past the unheeding toward the creaky stage steps, squinting her eyes in the dim as she called quietly, "Walter?"

The keys stumbled and fell silent as he looked up, "Yes?"

Astrid drew herself up in anger, her face hot, "You idiot! You had me worried! I couldn't find you all day, and the radio said there was a shooting, out near the Sand Dollar!"

"Ah- yes. That." Walter breezed her off, continuing with his lighthearted rendition of Mozart's Adagio.

"That could have been you, Walter!" Astrid cried in exasperation.

Walter shrugged a shoulder, his eyes intent of the keys.

"Can't it just stop, Walter?" Astrid said, her tone exhausted, "Can't all of it just stop? Or at least go back to the way it was? I don't know what's going on, you won't tell me anything, and Peter-"

The key's clanged as Walter glanced up at her sharply, "Peter?"

"Yes, Walter. Peter. Your son. He was at the house, today- we went looking for you, something happened to that woman that came to see you. What in the world is going on?"

Walter studied his hands for a few moments, chewing the inside of his cheek in deep though. Astrid was about to leave him to his silence when he stood, stepping out from behind the bench and approaching her, "Come away with me," he said.

"What?"

"Come away with me, dove. Tonight. Now. We could stop by the house, get a few things, and get away from here. Whadda ya say?" He spread his arms with a smile that she knew was hiding fear.

"Walter, what are you talking about? What is going on?" Astrid questioned, stepping back.

"Nothing, bird. Nothing at all. Let's just go- I've got a car, you'll love it, it's grey with leather interior-"

"A car? How? No, never mind, I don't care how. Walter, we can't just go-"

"But we can!" he insisted brightly, "We could be in Florida by tomorrow night, then we could go anywhere you want. But we have to go tonight."

"No- Walter, stop acting so strange. What's got you so scared?"

Walter's smile faltered slightly, as he lowered his arms, "I'm not scared."

"Is it Peter? Who is William Bell?"

"Don't ask questions. The answers don't matter, we-"

"No, Walter," Astrid said firmly, "The answers do matter, now. Tell me what's going on, I can help you."

"I can't-"

"Then I can't go with you," Astrid replied sadly.

Walter blinked in shock for a few moments, before he glanced around nervously, "Please, cher, you just have to trust me, this time. Right now- things are very dangerous, and I don't want you to be involved in any of it. We have to get out of here, for your own safety-"

"And I suppose it has nothing to do with the fact that that Dunham woman's partner was gunned down? No, Walter. I know where I am, and I can help myself." She turned away from him, starting for the stairs.

His arm suddenly snaked around her from behind, and he pressed his hand over her mouth. Astrid was frozen in shock for a few seconds, before she felt the burning pressure of a needle being inserted into her neck, and she began to struggle, "I'm sorry," Walter whispered into her ear, "I'm so sorry, love."

Her limbs began to feel stiff and heavy, the world around her growing fuzzy, and slowly fading. Her last sensations were those of slumping back, into his arms.

xXx