Don't

"Don't Vic," Walt cried out into the darkness. From his vantage point in the woods, he could just make out Vic's form holding her gun in one hand. It didn't seem possible, but Vic had her Glock aimed at her temple.

The last time he had used that word with some force with Vic, she was about to tease him about wearing his dress khaki uniform to the Election Debate. He was uncomfortable enough in his outfit and surely didn't need Vic giving him a hard time about his change in wardrobe. Or how cute his ass was in a different pair of pants. Not that Walt gave Vic the chance to say that.

This time the context was completely different. It was a life or death situation. On that Tuesday, Walt had gotten out of the courtroom early and had come home to change out of his idiotic suit and tie. He was looking forward to seeing Vic. He was surprised to find her trailer missing from his property.

He had no idea what could have driven her off the property. She wasn't medically cleared to drive yet. His concern mounted. They had had several seemingly pleasant and productive evenings recently. Vic had been a kind and solid sounding board for his worries about the trial. In turn, she was able to lean on Walt, and little by little, confide in him about her feelings of loss. He thought things were going well and they both seemed to enjoy each other's company. Her proximity to his cabin pleased him to no end. She was moved by his attempts to cook for her. He was amused that she helped herself to the beer in his fridge. She was amused by his attempts to do her laundry. But now Vic was gone….

He quickly changed out of his suit and made a call to Ferg. Ferg had no idea where Vic might have gone. He knew surprisingly little at the moment about Vic's pregnancy, her loss and subsequent fragile state of mind. It wasn't due to any particular lack of closeness between them. It was mainly because Ferg was extraordinarily busy at the moment, holding down the fort at work with Vic away on sick leave and Walt spending most days at the court house.

Calls to Henry, Ruby and Cady also did not produce any fruitful clues as to Vic's whereabouts.

So Walt went looking on his own. There were still a few hours left before dark. He was able to eliminate a few possible locations quickly. He sped down the highway to a remote location that he and Vic had once been to on a stakeout. Over several nights last year, they had been stuck there on the stakeout. It had been boring but not unpleasant. They had been able to share snacks, chats, naps and a few laughs even. Vic had commented later on, about how peaceful she had found the location to be.

The primitive campsite was about 40 miles from Durant, on the northern boundary of the county. The campsites were hardly prime in their location or composition, but they were handy as overflow options when the more desirable campsites were full, particularly on the long weekends in summer. Now it was deserted.

In the Bronco Walt crept along the dirt track very slowly with his headlights off. He caught a reflection of his running lights bouncing off an older silver trailer that surely was Vic's. He turned his truck off and walked quietly towards the trailer, not sure what to expect.

In the dim light, he spotted Vic, sitting outside on a partially rotten log, in her underwear. Tears were streaming down her face, as she silently held her gun to her temple.

"Don't", Walt cried out. "Vic. Don't. Stop what you're doing. Put the gun down!"

Vic was suddenly reeled back from a very dark place, and returned to the world she sometimes shared with Walt. "Walt," she whispered. "I didn't want you to see me like this," she said feebly.

"Well, it's better for me to see you like this, rather than afterwards," Walt said, glaring at Vic, trying to remember how to breathe. He was very hurt. And very angry. He stepped out of the shadows and quickly enveloped Vic's small hand with his own, moving the gun away from her head. He took the gun away, placing it at his feet, away and out of reach.

Vic was caught off guard. An array of emotions rolled over her like a storm. She was at once acutely embarrassed, ashamed and a little annoyed at being caught in yet another selfish act. That was the problem when your life got wrapped up in someone else's. Like with her baby. Like with Walt.

"Walt…I…um…I…uh…didn't expect to see you," she mumbled.

"Well, I gathered that," roared Walt, seething with anger. The shaking had begun. He felt his legs lose some of their hard fought control, and he sat down hard on the ground.

"Vic," he could barely get the words out. "How could you think that this was an option? How could you do this to me?" He didn't care that he was angry and was being selfish. He was so hurt that he couldn't find a way to modulate his voice or his choice of words. All he could do was scream at Vic.

"I thought I was HELPING you! I thought you were finding a bit of peace at my cabin," Walt said, calming down only slightly. He was still very angry.

"Walt…um…I was…but…I guess I lost control. I think I reverted back to being selfish. And I didn't want to be a burden to you." Tears burst from Vic's eyes.

"Vic, how can you say that? You've NEVER been a burden to me. I love you. Don't you see that? How could you think THAT and resort to this?" Tears were now streaming down Walt's face. "I thought maybe you might have loved me too, but to do this?" His words trailed off. I can't live without you, he said, not really knowing if he said the words aloud or to himself.

"Walt," Vic pleaded. She reached for him. She was surprised to really see him now. Her eyes focussed on Walt, sprawled in the dirt. She could see his tears. She couldn't recall ever really seeing him cry before. She felt shame that she had driven him to this state. What she thought was a private act, was really a selfish act, one that would quite likely hurt Walt much more than herself.

Vic crouched beside Walt and took him in her arms. She now felt the need to comfort him. Walt allowed her to hold him, another indication of how shaken he was.

"Walt," Vic murmured in a soothing tone, making circular motions on his back with her hand. As she held him to her breast, his breathing slowed and he was able to organize his thoughts a little better. "Walt, I'm sorry," was all Vic could say. "I never meant to hurt you," she said. "I thought I could handle things this way."

"Vic," Walt mumbled into her shoulder. "You can't do this. I couldn't live without you. Don't you see that? I've tried to show you." Walt was never very good at expressing himself, but Vic was beginning to get the message.

They sat there for a time without speaking. Walt was surprised at how tiny yet strong Vic was.

Vic was surprised at how weak Walt felt. And to think that she made him feel that way. As the fog began to lift a bit, Vic began to feel self-conscious, dressed only in her underwear. She began to shiver at the cooling of the day. She suggested they move inside the trailer.

Sadly, Vic had not intended to linger at the campsite, so the trailer was not hooked up to any water or power source. It wasn't that kind of campsite anyways. However, the trailer still provided them with a degree of privacy and warmth.

Vic put on her lightweight sweat pants and a hoodie. The pair sat side by side on the small couch, for hours. At times they leaned into one another. Sometimes they sat apart just looking.

Walt was still visibly shaken, but was calming down. "I just can't believe that if you felt that badly, you wouldn't have told me. I thought we trusted each other." Walt could not hide his profound disappointment. It was based on his own sense of the loss that could have been. But it was also based on what Vic would have missed out on. Maybe they could have gotten married. Or had a child some day. Or seen Cady get married one day and make Walt a grandfather. These were all the things that Walt had thought were possible with Vic. He now regretted over-thinking things and not sharing more of his dreams with Vic.

Vic was surprised to hear Walt speaking of the loss of future plans with her. 'My god,' she thought to herself, with a growing state of self-awareness. He thinks it's all over between us. She could see that he'd almost given up hope. He thought she was lost to him. She was now feeling shocked at what she would have lost out on with Walt.

Eventually the pair became too exhausted to talk. Neither had eaten since lunch time and were hungry and a little dehydrated. They staggered to the small bed at the back of the trailer and drifted off into a restless sleep, limbs entwined.

A little after dawn, Walt woke up and went outside to watch the sun come over the mountain. He retrieved Vic's gun from where he had hidden it, and locked it in the Bronco.

Vic joined him outside the steps of the trailer. She wasn't entirely sure of her status with him. She truly regretted scaring him like that. It hadn't occurred to her that he had put so much stock in future plans with her. Or that he was that fragile. The totality of what she might have missed out on, with Walt, became clear. It became obvious as well, that the court case had taken a toll on Walt.

"Don't!" said Walt sternly, drawing Vic into his arms. "Look at the sunrise. Don't ruin them for me. There's a matching sunset daily too. I want you to be around to enjoy those with me."

"I won't," Vic said. A single tear ran down her cheek, which Walt noticed and wiped away.

The two retreated to the cabin again, to talk, and talk some more.