Disclaimer: I do not own The Red Road.

A/N: This is semi-AU of S2 (mostly because only one episode has aired). Phillip did not cause trouble with the guys at the paving company, and Mac has not been murdered.

It had been a struggle for Kate to get up Friday morning. Rachel had been up and on the move before Kate had even considered throwing the covers off. Rachel had even gotten their father to come and check on Kate, worried that she might be sick. Kate wasn't sick. She was exhausted however. But she didn't care. The only thing she could think about was how good it had felt to hear Phillip talk, calm her, soothe her.

Yawning, Kate practically tripped down the stairs, mumbling nonsensically to Jean who was sitting at the kitchen table.

"Come on," Rachel yelled from the garage, "we're going to be late."

"Sorry," the younger girl muttered as she raced to the already running car and opened the door.

Rachel just smiled tightly and began to pull out of the garage, not bothering to wait for Kate to buckle-up. It was a fairly good impression of mom, at least Kate thought so.

"You feeling okay," Rachel asked, a façade of focus firmly in place.

Fingers clenching around the phone in her hand, Kate smiled sweetly, "Fine."

"You're usually up before me, you sure you're okay," Rachel pressed.

"Yeah," she answered. "I just didn't sleep well, nothing major."

Lip caught between her teeth Rachel frowned, "It helps if you actually try to lay in bed."

"I needed water," Kate's calm shook. She wasn't nervous or anxious, just…irritated. "I'm sorry if I kept you awake."

"Look, Katie," Rachel rolled to a stop at an intersection, "I'm just worried. Mom's checked out, Dad's so busy trying to pretend everything is getting better, and you're slipping through the cracks. You might think I don't notice, but I do. Whatever it is, I've been there."

The ridiculousness of the sentiment nearly had Kate laughing. Yes, Kate loved her sister, she loved her entire family, but she wasn't an idiot or insane. There wasn't a chance in hell that Kate was about to take advice from Rachel or any of them.

"It's just stress, I'm taking two AP tests next week and then there are finals, and it's just a lot," the words spilled a little too easily from Kate's mouth. Lying was getting easier.

Rachel nodded, "Okay. That I get. Not the AP part, but the test part. I have to take the ACT again. Just don't panic, okay, Kate?"

Kate nodded wordlessly, letting the conversation fall into nothingness. It really was easy to lie to her family.

By third hour the younger Jensen girl was more than a little distracted and frazzled. Phillip hadn't kept his promise. Kate knew she was jumping to conclusions, or putting the horse before the cart, but she felt abandoned…at least a little. Mostly Kate was just worried. Talking to Phillip had assuaged some of her fears, but Kate needed to see him. Needed to be able to see he was okay.

Instead of paying attention to her physics class, Kate was doodling in her notebook attempting to distract herself from the fact that her phone hadn't flickered on with a new message. Making strong marks with her pen, Kate transformed the half-filled page with a triangle pattern surrounded by black shadows. It wasn't something Kate had drawn before, but it was familiar. She blinked at the pattern filling the page as it became obvious where the idea had come from: Phillip. It was Phillip's tattoo, the one that wrapped around his left forearm.

Angrily, Kate ripped the page from the notebook and crumpled it. Kate had never been easily distracted. She had never been like Rachel or Jean. Kate was a nerd, a geek. She enjoyed learning and she had never quite learned how to be a social butterfly. Kate had thrived in the quieter world. And yet she was sitting in a class she enjoyed and hadn't heard a single word because of a boy. Okay, man. Phillip was most certainly a man. A very hot man.

"Okay," Kate whispered to herself, "clearly I have a problem."

"Talking to yourself is typically a problem, yeah," an amused voice interrupted Kate.

"Shut up, Sam," Kate gritted out, embarrassed that her lab partner and sometimes-friend had heard her.

"That hurts, you know," Sam winked, "so what's got you blushing, thinking about me I hope."

"No," the petite woman grumbled, "I wasn't thinking about you."

"Why not," the tall boy leaned closer, his chin dropping onto her shoulder, the chemical scent of body spray heavy. "I'm adorable."

"I don't do adorable," Kate snorted, "too cutesy."

Sam pouted, "So I'm not your type, that hurts, Katie-Pie, that really hurts."

"Shut up, Sam," Kate couldn't help but giggle.

Sam was something else. He had always been a good student, much like Kate, but he had somehow managed to infiltrate the cool kids and still be nice to Kate. He was cute, and Kate could admit to looking more than a few times, but he hadn't been more than a blip on her radar since she had met Phillip.

And she was back to Phillip. She needed to see him. Hearing from him wouldn't be good enough. Kate felt like she was in a desert, disoriented and hopeless, desperate for just a drop of him.

Shaking herself and pushing Sam from her, Kate sat a little straighter. She was determined not to zone out for the entire lesson. There was no guarantee that Phillip would try to call her, or when. There was no point in putting so much hope in the off chance that her phone would ring.

After a disastrous third hour, Kate had chucked her phone in her locker in a sad attempt to put it from her mind. It hadn't worked, so Kate had asked to use the restroom and snuck off to her locker. Holding her breath, body feeling hollow, Kate lifted the catch of her locker and grabbed the phone that sat abandoned. Tapping the power button Kate's heart raced. There on the screen was the notification.

Fire racing through her body, Kate opened the message.

Hope you're having a good day. I'm fine.

It was a stupid text, it felt like an obligation, but it meant the world to Kate. He had kept his promise without excuses. She paused, leaning half into her locker as she considered how to respond. She had never been one to play the games Rachel did with boys, Kate was too shy in that manner to play.

Better now. You kept your promise.

Tucking the phone into her pocket Kate headed back to class. She was smart enough not to expect Phillip to immediately text her back. Hell she hadn't expected him to text her at all. At most she was expecting a missed call.

Just as Kate slumped down in her seat her phone buzzed again.

I made a promise to you, Kate.

It was easy to read what Phillip hadn't written. He took promises to her seriously; he wanted her to be happy, to trust him.

Are you really okay?

The phone was slipped between Kate's thighs, hidden from view but easily accessed.

I'm fine, I promise.

Kate almost rolled her eyes at the words. This promise wasn't really a promise. It was meant to pacify her. To keep her calm and happy. Kate figured that Phillip was probably fine, at least by his definition.

What are you doing today?

The change of subject was necessary. Kate wasn't satisfied by Phillip's assessment of his health, but she knew that if she kept pushing she would only get more anxious. Instead she settled for a benign topic. Really Kate just liked knowing that he was thinking about her, that he cared enough to respond to her.

Work. We're fixing potholes. Very exciting stuff. What are you "learning"?

She could almost hear his voice, low and gruff. A shiver raced down Kate's spine. She really had a problem.

"Who're you texting," Rachel finally asked while they watched TV.

"No one," Kate denied, thumb coming down on the power button protectively, "Just Sam and Rebecca."

"Just Sam and Rebecca," the older girl asked dubiously, "Right. Unless you're about to admit your dating Sam, I don't buy it."

"I'm not dating Sam."

"Then what's up," Rachel pushed. "Come on, I need something juicy. Is he hot?"

A choking noise erupted from Kate as she tried to breathe normally, "What?"

"I'll take that as a yes," Rachel jumped up from the couch. "Now I'm going to go call my boyfriend, so if you want to keep on lying you can do it to yourself."

Rachel flounced out of the room, laughing at her sister's flustered spluttering. Kate took that opportunity, with her mother and father out on date night to do some last minute snooping. Snooping might have been a harsh word, but Kate needed information. Information she couldn't just ask for.

Her father, for all his brilliance, was too trusting of his family. Harold kept his case-notes in an unlocked safety box on the top shelf of the spare bedroom that he no longer inhabited. So that was where Kate went. With an eye for detail, Kate shifted through the contents until she came to the exact file she was looking for. It was manila with a mug-shot clipped to the front; beneath it were a few post-it notes with chicken-scratch handwriting.

It wasn't the first place Kate had looked. She had already checked her father's GPS and the notepad he kept in his truck. Neither had yielded Phillip's address. The only other possible places for the information to be were at the police station or in Harold's personal records. And Kate was right. Phillip's parole information with an updated address were scrawled on one of the blue post-its.

After snapping a picture of the address, Kate rearranged all of the papers and lifted the box back up into the closet. She made sure everything was in place before she returned to the living room, ready to pretend she had been watching whatever reality TV show was on.

Friday ended with Kate clutching her phone, warmth snaking through her body as she reread the texts she and Phillip had exchanged. A hopeful smile arced across her face as she considered the new information she had. Kate didn't just want to see Phillip, she needed to see him.

It hadn't been difficult to get out of the house Saturday morning. Kate had given a half-hearted excuse about hanging out with Rebecca, maybe going to see a movie or go shopping. Rebecca had been more than willing to be Kate's alibi. Rebecca was one of Kate's best friends, and she understood that sometimes Kate just needed peace and quiet.

Tossing her head back as she pedaled, Kate leaned with her bike as she followed the curve of the road. The warm breeze felt nice on her bare legs, the clear sky letting the sun shine brightly. It was a beautiful day, and Kate was in a very good mood. She was going to see Phillip. Not that he knew that.

A meticulous planner, Kate had memorized every turn and street she needed to take to get to Phillip's. The route up towards the mountain was oddly quiet. Kate supposed that was due in part to the new restrictions. Fewer and fewer people had reason to be there. It was better that way. At least there would be a smaller chance that the wrong person would see Kate.

When the pavement turned to dirt, Kate knew she was close. Rolling to a stop she dropped her flip-flop clad feet to the ground. Tossing her leg over the seat Kate dismounted the bike and began to walk it up into the stone and woodchip path. Kate's feet squished unpleasantly against the path as she drew closer to her target.

With every step the awe on Kate's face built. The house wasn't much, but it was settled in a rather picturesque way. It was cradled by the forest, tall trees reaching up to the sky and isolating the house from the rest of the world. Absentmindedly, Kate leaned her bike against the porch, half-hidden by brush.

"Kate," the low rasp of Phillip's voice had Kate whipping around find the man in question scrambling down a ladder, "what are you doing here?"

"I was worried," Kate fidgeted, hands locked behind her back, twisting uneasily.

Phillip exhaled with a smile, "I told you I was fine."

"That doesn't mean I don't worry," was the instant response before Kate seemed to freeze. "I'm sorry," she blushed, head tilting forward, "I shouldn't have come."

"No," Phillip took a brisk step forward, "No, it's good to see you."

The embarrassment turned to happy surprise. Kate's head tilted back up so she could see Phillip's face, a grin transforming his face. As always Phillip's gaze was intense. The man really only had one setting in that respect. Shifting Kate grimaced as her right foot squelched against her sandal.

The smile on Phillip's face disappeared as he followed her shifting stance down to her feet. "Shit, Katie," Phillip breathed before he leaned down and scooped Kate up into his arms, her arm draped around his neck.

"What," the faint question was a breath against the man's cheek.

"Fucking paint sludge," the dark voice gritted out in anger.

Kate jerked slightly, looking down at her foot. Instead of the mud she expected, Kate found a sickly blue layer of, as Phillip aptly put it, sludge. Making short work of the walk up to the porch, Phillip managed to hold Kate with one arm as he opened the door and carried her inside.

"I'm fine," Kate told him, "It's just a little paint."

An incomprehensible grunt met Kate's protestation as she clung to Phillip, highly aware of the potential damage he could be doing to his side. Phillip made a beeline through the house, past a rickety looking bed and into a bathroom with a large, angular, tub. Slowly and carefully Phillip settled Kate on the edge of the tub, his hands sliding up her legs. Warm hands forced her legs apart, lifting her clean foot to rest on edge of the tub.

"Don't move," Phillip ordered as he moved purposefully through the house, his heavy footsteps echoing his agitated need.

Craning her neck, Kate surveyed the house. It was clean. Not hermetically clean like home, but clean nonetheless. It certainly looked lived in. There were boxes stacked in the corner, and the sheets on the bed were rumpled, but the floor was clean.

After a good deal of rustling from a distant room Phillip returned. Without ceremony he knelt beside the tub and settled one large hand on the bare skin of Kate's thigh. His long fingers squeezed her leg, both of them caught by the sight of his big hand against her. Phillip dwarfed Kate, making her look more delicate and tiny than she already was.

With one final squeeze Phillip released his grip and lifted a large jug of cider vinegar up onto the lip of the bathtub. With steady hands Phillip poured the jug over Kate's foot, nudging the flip-flop off so he could get as much of the liquid on her foot as possible.

"What is that stuff," Kate asked as the goop began to slide off her skin, the vinegar stinging her nose as it cleaned her skin.

Thumb stroking her ankle, Phillip spoke, "When I was a kid people started getting sick. A couple of years later people started noticing blue sludge seeping up through the ground. It's paint, toxic paint sludge. No one really knows where it came from, just that it was dangerous."

Phillip set the jug down and lifted Kate's foot a little higher, checking for anymore paint. Stretching, Phillip yanked a towel down from the bathroom counter and patted Kate's foot dry. His tender touch had Kate smiling, one hand braced on Phillip's shoulder.

"Okay," Phillip breathed as he lifted Kate up again.

A tiny noise of amusement and giddiness bubbled from Kate's lips as Phillip's gentle but firm touch had her skin burning. Phillip chuckled at Kate's response, settling her down onto the bed, his body hovering over hers for just a moment before he took Kate's newly clean foot and guided it into a bucket of what Kate soon learned was Epsom salt.

"It'll help pull any toxins out," Phillip told her. "And next time you come up here, make sure you wear gym shoes, something that will keep your feet safe."

"Next time," Kate repeated, a spark of hope leaping to life.

Kate had known that coming onto Phillip's "turf" was a risk. Every time they had met previously had been an accident, an accident that was easy enough to walk away from. Despite any hints and silent invitations, Kate had been unsure how Phillip would take her presence.

"Yeah," Phillip nodded, his hand running up and down Kate's smooth leg, "If you wanted to."

"Yeah," Kate repeated. The flush from earlier returning to her cheeks.

Rising to his feet, Phillip looked down at Kate as she leaned back on his bed, propped up on her elbows, the thin fabric of her flowing tank straining against her chest. Swallowing back the desire to lean down and take possession of her lips, Phillip forced himself to sit beside Kate.

"So, you're really okay, right," head cocked towards him and playing with her lower lip Kate watched the man.

Nodding, Phillip pulled up his white t-shirt and dropped it to the bed. Twisting, Phillip demonstrated the healing wound. No longer an angry red, it looked miles better. "I'm fine, Kate."

Shifting her weight onto one arm, Kate leaned towards Phillip, her now free hand moving to brush against the stitched flesh. After just the briefest touch Phillip caught her hand in his hand dragged it up his stomach and over his chest, clutching Kate's hand momentarily against his heart before pulling it up to his lips.

Phillip was flirting with a line that he knew shouldn't be crossed. Lips pressed softly against Kate's fingertips, her palm, and the pulse at her wrist.

"Kate," Phillip whispered, voice faltering with his buried need.

Their entwined hands were once more pressed against Phillip's chest, Kate's hand flush against his heart, every beat pressing against her like a tattoo.

"Phillip," was Kate's answer as she leaned a little closer, her cheek resting in the cradle of Phillip's neck and shoulder. She felt safe. She felt content leaning against him, his warmth bleeding into her without mercy.

"I need you, Kate." Lips pressed against Kate's hair, inhaling her sweet scent and letting it fill him, sustain him.

Kate didn't have the words to respond. Nothing that flashed through Kate's head seemed right. Instead, Kate settled for leaning a little closer and burying her face against Phillip's neck, relaxing entirely.

Phillip didn't need words, he didn't expect them. Kate gave him everything he ever needed without knowing it. She trusted him to care for her, to keep her safe, to comfort her. Kate's surrender to Phillip in that moment on his bed, in his house, on a warm Saturday afternoon meant more than words.

A/N: Wow! The outpouring of love for this story has me astounded. I knew when I started this that very few people might read it and even fewer might review, but you all have surprised me every time I post. I will keep going, and trust me this will be happy in the end. I may incorporate some elements of S2 later on, but this should be mostly fluffy and focused on Phillip and Kate. Hope this curbs your Phate craving. Lots of Love, Ta!