A/n - sorry I don't get around to replying to your reviews individually, but I am really appreciative of them.

Chapter 5

For Walt, the next couple of days were difficult. Firstly, he had to contend with the physical pain and lack of mobility as a result. He hated being confined to bed. The only good thing that happened was that he was moved out of the ICU 48 hours after his surgery. He still slept a lot and couldn't get over how tired and weak he was. Every day he was poked and prodded by doctors or nurses.

They ran traces on his cardiac output to assess what, if any, damage occurred as a result of the arrest on the operating table. Even while resting, arrhythmias were discovered which could indicate some damage to the heart muscle. They told him they would try treating them with beta blockers, but if they didn't work, he was looking at possibly having a pacemaker fitted. To Walt, that sounded like something old folks needed. It wasn't something he was willing to consider, yet.

He was getting sick of doctors telling him how he would have to change his lifestyle and take better care of himself. He liked his life. He didn't want anything to change. He didn't know how to change.

As well as the physical trauma, he was trying to deal with the emotional fallout from the loss of Donna. He had looked for more details of what exactly had happened to her, how she had died. Vic brought him her report and a copy of the forensics reports from his cabin and the accident site. She also told him how she had come across the accident on the log road and of her and the Cumberland County Deputy's attempts to help Donna.

Walt listened on, trying to keep his emotions in check. It wasn't easy. He still felt physically ill just thinking about what had happened to her. She should never have been there. He should have stopped his mad man from taking her. He wanted to see her, to say sorry to her. He asked Vic about her funeral.

"I think it's this Friday," Vic told him.

"Good. I should be there," Walt told her, happy it would give him five days to get stronger.

"Eh, I don't think so Walt," Vic told him, sounding adamant. "You're not going anywhere for another week at least."

"But who…who will mourn her?" he asked innocently.

"Her family, Walt."

"Family?"

"Yeah, she had two grown up kids and two sisters. You didn't know?" Vic asked.

"We, eh, never had that conversation," Walt admitted.

Vic nodded in understanding. She knew Walt and Donna hadn't known each other very long and she knew Walt wasn't exactly a fast mover when it came to his feelings or opening up and getting to know someone intimately.

"I'm sorry Walt," she said, as she prepared to leave for work.

"Vic," he said, calling her back. "Where will she be buried?"

"In Sheridan, as far as I know," she replied, before leaving him. "I'll take you to her grave when you're better."

Later that same day, Henry stopped by to see his friend. The last time he had seen him, Walt was seriously ill in ICU. He looked much better today. From Walt's perspective, it was the first time Henry had stopped by. It had surprised him it had taken this long.

"How are you, Walt?" he asked glad to see his friend sitting out of the bed.

He looked frail, however, his right shoulder bound and in a sling tight against his chest, his legs covered by a blanket. The creases around his eyes told of his discomfort.

"Been better," Walt replied.

"It is good to see you awake," Henry told him. "I worried you might not make it."

"I'm stubborn like that," Walt said with a slight smile.

"I was sorry to hear about Dr. Monaghan," Henry said, taking the spare seat and pulling it close to Walt.

Walt sighed and nodded, acknowledging his sympathies. There was a silence, each man lost in this own concerns. Henry had one thing weighing on his mind. He had to be the one to tell Walt that he was Hector, and he had to do it today for fear he would hear it from another source.

Before he figured out a way to bring it up, Walt said to him.

"Cady said you were sick."

"Yes. Of sorts. Complications from a gunshot wound," Henry said, waiting for the information to register with Walt.

"You were shot? Who shot you?" Walt asked.

Henry looked him in the eye and then replied.

"You did."

Walt's forehead creased in confusion, unsure he had heard his friend correctly.

"Me?"

"Yes, Walt. You. I was trying to help Gab, but she shot Tyler Malone at the bonfire that night…and you shot me as I ran away," Henry explained.

Walt was silent.

"Hector ran from the scene," Walt recalled, looking at the floor to help his recollection.

Henry stayed silent waiting for Walt to put the pieces together.

"I shot Hector," Walt told him before he raised his head and looked at his friend.

"Henry, are you Hector," Walt then asked outright.

"Yes, Walt. I am."

Walt looked at his friend in disbelief, in disappointment and eventually in disgust.

"Why? How could you lie to me all this time?"

"I never lied to you, Walt. I just did not think it would be helpful to burden you with the truth," Henry told him.

"I don't understand," Walt said, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. He took as deep a breath as his injured body would permit.

"I just wanted to help my people," Henry explained.

"Hector is a criminal," Walt told him.

"I only ever acted when there was no chance of justice," he continued.

Walt felt betrayed. The one person in the world that he always counted on had been lying to him, keeping secrets for months. His heart continued to beat too fast and he felt light headed.

"You need to go," Walt said, trying to slow his heart beat. "Get out."

Henry stood up and looked at his friend. Walt could not look at him. He knew he had really hurt his best friend. He only hoped he would someday forgive him. He sensed from Walt's breathing that there was a medical problem as well and as he left, he asked the nurse to check on him.

The nurse came in and saw Walt holding his chest.

"Sheriff? Are you feeling ok?"

"My heart is pounding," he told her.

"Okay, just relax. Let's just get back to bed and I'll put the monitor back on," she suggested. "I'll get Doc Weston for you."

The doctor came quickly and checked Walt.

"Am I having a heart attack, Doc?" Walt asked, feeling scared.

"I don't think so, Walt, but I suspect you're experiencing palpitations. The heart traces we've been running over the last two days show signs of atrial fibrillation. What you're feeling now may pass without intervention, but if it gets worse we might have to take action," the doctor explained.

He placed an oxygen mask over Walt's nose and mouth and asked him to take slow deep breaths. He closely watched the heart monitor and was relieved to see the heart rate slowly fall back to within normal range over the next few minutes.

"You're ok, Walt," he told him. "Just take it easy and no stress for the next few days especially."

As the doctor was leaving, Henry, who had waited outside, stopped him on the corridor.

"Is he okay, Doctor?"

"He will be, once he takes it easy," Dr. Weston replied.

Henry felt the relief wash over him. The last thing he had wanted to do was make Walt ill or hurt him in any way. He decided then to stay away until Walt was strong enough to deal with what had transpired.

Cady called later that evening. Before she entered his room, the nurse took her aside and updated her on his cardiac episode earlier in the day. She was concerned, but the nurse set her at ease, saying he was fine and they were going to be able to manage the problem. When she saw her dad, he was quick to tell her about Henry's admission, funnily enough, omitting the part where his heart went into fibrillation. She smiled and told him that she had known a couple of days about Henry.

He was a little annoyed that she had kept it from him, but she told him why and he accepted it. She also had one other thing to tell him, but having heard about his episode earlier in the day, and the nurses request to keep him stress free for a while, she decided to keep the news about her job with Jacob Nighthorse to herself. She would tell him when he was stronger.

A few more days passed. Walt grew stronger each day. He had made up his mind that there was no way he was going to miss Donna's funeral. On the Thursday he was well enough to take short walks along the corridor unaided. On one of those short walks, he made a call from the pay phone.

He called Bob, giving him instructions to go to his cabin and bring him some clothes and also arranging a ride to Sheridan. He decided it was best not to mention anything to Cady or Vic. And the way things were with Henry, he didn't even consider asking him to drive him there.

Thursday evening passed and the usual visitors called in. Walt still slept quite a bit during the day, but was definitely stronger. Friday morning came and he asked his nurse to help him shave t heeling her he felt it would make him feel better. The nurse duly obliged and pretty soon, Walt looked respectable.

He made sure to be there for the doctor's morning rounds. Once the doctor had cleared out, Walt got out of bed sorely and awkwardly tried to dress himself. Bob had arrived to pick him up. As it turned out, Walt also needed Bob's help to get his shirt on and to put his sling back on.

Walt was grateful for the painkillers that he had been given a couple of hours earlier and hoped that they would be enough to get him through the day. Bob had also brought Walt his jacket and hat so he was ready for the cool weather.

Bob noticed when Walt swayed slightly as he stood up and prepared to leave.

"Are you sure you should be doing this, Walt?" he asked, a little concerned.

"I'll be fine," Walt insisted. "Just get me there, okay?"

Bob agreed and they both slipped out of the room and out of the hospital unnoticed.

To be continued...