Raleigh: thank you so much for your review, it really meant a lot to me to get it. I'm so glad you like the story, and the way that I'm doing the characters. Thanks again.

Olivia moved to where Wrench sat in the snow still waiting for him to move; if he'd been in the hospital it meant he'd been arrested, and if he was now out and here it meant Lorne had let him go – she was now staring at a wanted criminal with a vendetta against the man who'd left her, and she could do little more than shake her head wearily wondering when it would all end. She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. "Are you gonna kill me?" she demanded, staring down at his sad face and seeing how lost he was.

He looked up at her surprised by how much hostility was in her eyes, this wasn't the woman he'd met two nights before – though he couldn't blame her, they had kidnapped her planning to take her back to their boss where they knew she'd be killed. But there was more than that, there was something missing – she was broken. He shook his head not knowing what he wanted from her; he hadn't really known what he wanted when he'd come back to find her, she was a doctor and she knew Malvo. If there was anyone who could help him without calling the cops it would be her, and if he got to hurt Malvo in the process then all the better.

She sighed before kneeling down to wrap an arm around him. "Come on, you tore your stitches," she told him when he looked up at her questioningly. He didn't have much of a choice but to let her help him, not if he didn't want to bleed to death, and she was already pulling him up taking any other choice he might've had. She helped him into the room, letting him lean his weight on her nearly making her knees give out – the top of her head barely made it past his shoulders, he was quite heavy. It took all her strength to keep him from falling when they reached the bed, and she helped him sit before going for the first aid kit she always had stocked and on her; pausing as she remembered stitching Lorne's hand. She didn't think she'd ever get away from him, every little thing no matter how insignificant would bring him to her mind – and she wondered if this pain would always rip through her so fresh and raw as the days turned to months and then to years.

He watched her closely as she turned her back on him, his eyes looking for any sign of a weapon she might have grabbed before she finally turned back to him with a box in hand – he'd caught her hesitation, the stillness that crept up her spine and settled on her face before she'd finally taken a breath and shaken herself out of it. He took the notebook and pen she offered him and let her help him lie back on his side, startling at the feel of her untying the hospital gown and uncovering him – if her eyes hadn't been so intently trained on the bullet wound he might've been more embarrassed.

She gently dabbed the blood around the wound seeing how bad it was; he'd completely ripped the sutures – she was surprised he hadn't bled out on his way here. "You came here for him," she said when he looked up at her, and sighed when he nodded. It's what she'd figured; Lorne had let him go, probably impressed at how close the two had gotten to him – and she realized then as she continued cleaning the blood off his side that Lorne knew Wrench would come for her, he'd warned her to be on her way home by today. Of course Wrench could always track her down, he knew her name, but he would've died first – except now, cause she was about to stitch him back up.

Her eyes were torn from his side at the feeling of the notebook being pushed against her arm. 'He killed my partner,' he'd written.

"The one with the hair?" she asked motioning the exaggerated coif Numbers had – and her shoulders slumped when he once more nodded. "I liked him," she said softly before removing the torn stitches, hearing him grunt before the notebook was once more offered to her.

'He liked you too.'

Her mouth curled into a smile for a brief moment before it fell, leaving her lips turned down in a frown. "Were you close?" she asked barely able to look at him; she'd liked them both, for the few minutes she'd met them – and she didn't think they really wanted to hurt her, unlike Lorne they didn't seem very dark. She grabbed the numbing cream from her kit and a swab before rubbing a layer on his skin and letting it sit for a minute.

He handed her the notebook again and watched as she read his question, wondering if she actually knew when Malvo would be back; he wouldn't be caught bare-assed and unable to move if Malvo was coming back soon.

But she shook her head and turned back to the reopened bullet wound knowing she had to wait another minute or two if she was going to stitch it back up without hurting him. "He's not," she started unable to finish the sentence or even look at the man laying beside her: she could've had the bullet wound, she could've been shot in the heart and it couldn't possibly hurt her worse. She took a breath making to speak before her shoulders slumped and she shook her head, she couldn't even say his name let alone admit he was gone. She looked down at the feel of the notebook against her arm to find him holding out the pen and the paper – seeing she couldn't speak.

He watched her stare at the page for several moments seeing she was struggling to even write it down; and he quickly realized Lorne Malvo wasn't coming back, and he knew their taking her was the reason. 'You got too close I think it scared him and now he's running away with his tail between his legs.' He looked up at her to see her restitching the wound, her chin quivering as she tried not to cry – she looked as broken as he felt, and he wondered if he'd ever have been able to hurt her whether or not it hurt Malvo.

She cut the end of the suture and put the needle back in the kit, making a note to herself to sanitize it when she had the time – like after she figured out what to do with the still injured man who needed to be looked after and probably had nowhere to go since his partner was dead – before placing a bandage over the wound. "Try not to tear the stitches this time, if you have to move go very slow," she told him not sure if there was any advice she could give him besides to lay down for a few days which he obviously couldn't do because she was literally about to drive back home.

Wrench watched her turn to the door startled and he sat up wishing he had a gun to arm himself with, knowing from the alarm on her face someone had knocked. "Give me a minute," he watched her say before she turned to him almost afraid. He let her help him up and waited as she looked for what to do with him; he wanted to go in the bathroom behind the curtain – at least then the moment it moved he could charge and get the upper hand on the person who was behind the door.

After hiding her fugitive, Olivia took the bloody rags and hid them at the bottom of the trashcan in the bathroom before going to the door. She honestly didn't know who was on the other side, she didn't think it was Lorne – he wouldn't knock, he'd kick the door in with a gun drawn and shoot anyone there that wasn't her. "Deputy Solverson," she said surprised when she opened the door find the officer on the other side.

Molly looked at the woman wondering if she really was what she seemed, her gut told her she wasn't – though her mind wanted her to believe it, she seemed so nice. "Dr. Anderson," she said in greeting. "Would you mind answering a few more questions I have?" she asked, smiling when Olivia nodded. "That's great, I heard you talking to someone," she said hobbling her way into the room trying not to pull on her stitches. "Is there anyone else here?" She stood inside of the front door with the little closet to her right waiting for an answer, and she looked to the doctor when she didn't say anything, now on guard that someone else was there.

"Are you okay?" Olivia asked looking at the deputy's side where she seemed to be injured.

Molly looked down realizing of course as a doctor she'd know and worry. "Oh, ya it's nothing – just part of the job," she said.

Before Molly could ask again if someone was there Olivia placed a hand around her back. "Come sit down," she said leading her to the bed, now not knowing what to do with woman who so obviously was trying to capture Lorne. "I was talking to my chief," she answered thinking it'd be best not to admit she had restitched a formerly arrested man and was now hiding him. "I was actually just about to head back home."

"Oh really?" Molly asked letting Dr. Anderson help her sit on the bed. "The little boy?" she asked wondering if he'd gotten better.

But Olivia shook her head. "He died this morning," she said softly before standing back and looking at the woman wondering why she was there.

Molly stared at her face wondering what had happened to her in the past two days to make her look so defeated. "I'm so sorry," she told her.

"Me too," Olivia said. "What were your questions?" she asked wanting the deputy to go so that she could pack Wrench in her car and go before anyone else decided to need her.

Molly nodded before taking out her notepad and looking at what all she knew about the woman she was speaking to – which was basically nothing, other than she seemed to be an incredibly nice woman who put the care of her patients ahead of her own convenience. But she couldn't get past that blonde hair that escaped from the car with the naked guy – there was something about this coincidence that didn't settle well with her. "I'm not here as a deputy," she told her. "My chief told me to let it go the case was closed cause we caught the guy, you know. But we got the wrong guy, I know we did; and I know Lorne Malvo is responsible for a lot of it. So I'm not here as a deputy, I'm here as a person who needs to know they're right. I can't use what you say, I can't even write it down, so you can tell me the truth." She looked up at Dr. Anderson hoping for some of the compassion she'd seen a couple of days ago, but she only stood staring blankly back at her. "Do you mind if I use the bathroom?" she asked, still not convinced this woman wasn't connected in any way – she knew Lester Nygaard, she was from out of town with blonde hair, she'd had Florence Nightgarden's phone – she wasn't convinced.

"Yeah," Olivia said with a shrug before helping her up.

"Thanks," Molly said grateful because she didn't think she'd have been able to get up without it. She looked at the doctor when she didn't let go of her arm. "Did you need something?" she asked now wondering if there was someone there and they were in the bathroom.

But Olivia stood staring at the deputy. "Did you need something?"

Molly's brows furrowed before she understood. "Oh, no, uh, I'll give a yell if I need ya," she said realizing of course a doctor would know someone wounded might need help going to the bathroom. She shut the door behind her and looked at the shower curtain hiding whatever was behind it, and she pulled her gun before creeping as silently as she could closer, reaching her hand out before giving a violent jerk and raising her gun. Her shoulders slumped at seeing it was empty, adding yet another thing the doctor hadn't done wrong to a very long list.

Olivia moved to the closet and opened it to look at the man. "I told you so," she mouthed angrily to him, glad she hadn't gone with his pointing to the shower – Lorne had taught her better than that, the shower is the first place you check; and a cop dead in her hotel room was the last thing she needed. She grabbed the few sweaters hanging up and returned to her suitcase, looking up when the bathroom door opened. "Just making sure I haven't left anything," she said before going in the bathroom to see if she'd gotten it all before returning to her suitcase.

Molly watched her zip it up wondering if she had a car, and she followed her out of the room and to a red SUV. "That's your car," she said realizing when Olivia said yes that no matter how much she wanted to believe this woman was connected to it all, something else happened to say she wasn't. "Did you drive out here in it?"

Olivia closed the trunk before turning to the deputy seeing how hopeless she looked. "No," she answered not knowing why she'd told her that.

It was a moment before Molly understood what she'd just said and she looked at Dr. Anderson with wide eyes. "What car did you come here in?"

She hesitated a moment wondering if she really should, if the deputy really was here on a personal matter; and then she wondered if she actually cared. "A white New Yorker."

Molly stared at Olivia for several moments wondering if she was actually saying what she was hearing. "Was there a naked fella in the trunk?" she asked though the doctor gave her nothing – no yes or no, no shake of her head – she stood in the snow in only a sweater waiting for what came next. "You know Lorne Malvo?"

Olivia looked around wondering if he was there to see if Wrench had found her, wondering if he allowed himself to care about her enough to actually come back to see she wasn't hurt – but she honestly didn't know anymore. "I have nothing for you," she told the deputy. "I know him, if you tell me what happened I can give you a guess as to what I think he did and I'm always right – but I have no proof, I never saw that side of him."

Molly nodded not sure if she fully understood before motioning her to her own car. "Can you take a look at this, point out anything that could be wrong?" she asked opening the trunk to show her the board she'd made showing her theory – coming here had been a last desperate attempt at finding the truth, at knowing she wasn't wrong.

She stared at the pictures of Lorne and Lester and Numbers and Wrench, at all the connections the deputy had made. "You said your chief told you the case was closed?" she asked unable to believe it. "Is he an idiot?" she asked hearing the deputy laugh surprised. "This is unbelievable," she said making Molly's mouth twitch as though to smile glad at knowing she'd gotten it all. "I mean it's not all right, but you're very close."

Molly looked from Dr. Anderson's serious face to the board. "What do you think of it?"

"Sam Hess?" she asked pointing to the picture and then tracing it to Lorne and Lester. "Is he the one that broke Mr. Nygaard's nose?"

Molly looked up from the board and nodded. "Yeah, I think Lester hired Malvo or made some kind of arrangement," she said before trailing off at Olivia shaking her head.

She looked up at Molly. "I'm not saying Lester Nygaard is innocent, what happened here," she said point to Pearl Nygaard and the officer, "I think Lester killed his wife and called," she opened her mouth to say his name, she tried so hard to force it from her tongue, "him," she said pointing to Lorne's photograph. "And then he killed the officer before leaving and getting a hotel room," she finished shocking Molly with her knowing that – which meant Malvo had probably come to Dr. Anderson's room that very night before he had, and that he'd stayed here for a day or two before leaving. "So Lester killed his wife, but at this time," Olivia said pointing back to Sam Hess, "while I don't think Lester would've minded the idea of him being dead, I don't think he wanted it. And now," she raised a shoulder and sighed, "he's ruined."

Molly nodded having so many more questions. "Would you tell me about Lorne Malvo?" she asked not surprised when the doctor shook her head. "These two guys, do you know anything about them?" she asked pointing to the deaf fella and his translator.

She looked at the picture of Wrench, remembering that night at the hospital – he'd almost looked like it hurt when Numbers had stabbed the syringe in her neck, and then he got out of the hospital and of all the places he could've gone to escape he'd come here. "The first time I met them was at the hospital after I spoke to you," she answered, watching the deputy's brows raise in surprise. "They kidnapped me right after actually," she mumbled before her eyes found their way back to the picture of Lorne – she still had that ugly sweater he'd worn as the minister, she'd almost put it on before going to work the day before.

"You're saying these two men kidnapped you?" Molly asked staring shocked at the doctor.

Olivia nodded. "They sedated me, I woke up the next day and he was driving me back here. And then he," her voice left her and she turned away from the board not able to look at his face.

"He left you," Molly finished for her, seeing this was why she was so broken – and somehow, on top of everything, she found that she wanted to comfort the woman. "Dr. Anderson," she said not sure what she could say now, the woman knew of Malvo's crimes and had done nothing – she was an accessory.

Olivia turned to her looking so bitter and lost. "What does it say about me that I fell in love with a murderer?" she asked rhetorically, her voice sardonic and masochistic. "And I liked the guys that kidnapped me, and even now I still don't think they wanted to hurt me. I mean, what kind of person does that make me?"

Molly stared at the clearly distressed woman not knowing what to say. "I don't think you're a bad person," she told her gently, and she honestly didn't – she just loved a terrible man.

She laughed almost hysterical as she turned to the deputy. "In a few months I'm gonna take my boards and be an attending. I have a freaking M.D. and a PhD, and I am standing here with a cop crying over the murderer I'm in love with. He, he fucks with people cause it's fun and then he kills them; and then he comes home and I love him. An-and now look at me, I don't even know who I am anymore."

Molly watched the woman wilt to the ground in tears not sure what to do, she didn't know if she should comfort her – she was an accessory to numerous crimes – but she was a very nice woman, Molly thought she'd at least got that right about her; and she didn't even act like she wanted to love Malvo, she acted like she almost hated it. And so after several attempts to put her hand on the weeping woman's shoulder, lamely reaching for her only to pull away and then to reach for her again and then to pull away, she finally patted her shoulder gently.

Wrench stood still half in the closest watching the two out of the open door, having almost expected the doctor to give him away – he did kidnap her with the intention of taking her to people that would kill her, or at least kill the man she was with. But instead he watched her cry, and then as the deputy awkwardly forced herself to comfort her. He watched her stand and wipe beneath her eyes, pulling what was left of her together before telling the deputy something else.

"Don't give up," Olivia told her wondering if they'd met under different circumstances she might've liked her. "You have it all figured out, you just have to wait for him to slip up."

She stood shivering in the cold watching Molly Solverson drive away in her police car, now knowing for certain she was right but having nothing to do with it; and then Olivia went back in the room to collect her wounded fugitive. "Come on, lets get in the car," she told him before grabbing her coat and leaving the room. She turned back at his hand on her arm and watched as he shook his head furiously, his hands speaking a language she didn't understand nor did she have the will to wait for him to write it down. "Look, you should be in a hospital with people to monitor you. Do you have anyone to take care of you?" she asked him rudely, wanting to just grab him and force him into the car. But he looked down and shook his head making her sigh at realizing he was on his own – like her. "Do you have a place to go?" she asked with a hand under his chin, waiting as he shook his head once more. "Then get in the car," she told him before leaving him in the room and climbing in.

It was several moments of hesitating, wondering if she really was gonna help him, before he finally limped his way to the passenger's side and climbing in. The moment he was sitting with his seatbelt buckled she jammed a syringe in his arm, pulling his hand away when he reached for her before he finally slumped limp against the window knocked out cold. She looked at him unhappily before turning up the heat and pulling out of the motel lot and heading home.

…

It was dark when his eyes fluttered opened, looking at the clock to see it was after three in the morning; his first instinct was to lash out enraged that she'd sedated him, not knowing what she'd done to him while he was out. But he barely even lifted a hand when he realized his seat was leaned back and he was covered in a warm blanket; and all anger left him when he turned to her. She sat staring out of the windshield with tears streaming down her face, but she did no more than blink – he didn't even known if she was aware she was crying. And if there was ever a moment when he decided he wouldn't hurt her, it would be then, sitting beside her warmed by her blanket as she drove him to her home.