Out Of The Past

Part II - Facing The Past

That night Layton came back to the cabin as worn out and beaten as most days. But every night he still looked forward to coming home.

That was how he thought of it now. It wasn't just 'coming back to the cabin'. It was coming home. Coming to a place he could call his. Or theirs, he reminded himself with a small smile. A place where he could relax. Where no one came looking for him to solve all their problems. Where he either cooked a meal for his roommate and himself, or sat at the table while he tried to ascertain from the smell exactly what she was trying to make. He knew she would be back earlier than him that evening. She had left before he even woke up. So it would be her turn to cook. He was looking forward to having to do nothing more than try to figure out what was for dinner by smell alone. Then a quiet, pleasant evening of reading or trying to sort out tomorrow's schedule. Then off to bed, cuddled up to his favorite spare blanket (as he often referred to Melanie) and a full night of peaceful, warm sleep.

For life on a train, plowing its way endlessly through a frozen landscape, it wasn't actually too bad, he reasoned with a smile as he watched the door to the cabin open for him.

And that was where all of his anticipation for a peaceful, happy evening came to a screeching halt.

He swore they were on some sort of radar, where the second he stepped into their cabin, if something was amiss, he was instantly aware of it. And tonight that feeling hit him like a sack of bricks. A feeling that settled in his bones and practically made him want to turn and run back out the door.

Something was very, very wrong.

Stepping slowly into the cabin, his first order of business was to locate his roommate. To make sure she was all right.

"Melanie!"

When no answer came, his panic shot up. She should be there. Maybe something happened in the engine room. He had meant to talk to her about that. Accidents seemed to be happening far to frequently for his liking. Granted, a lot of the 'accidents' were among the apprentices. But he hated the thought of her temperamental engine injuring anyone.

Walking into the cabin a little further, he came to a sudden stop when he caught sight of her.

Sitting at the table, she already had her eyes fixed on him. From her expression he wasn't sure which one of them was in trouble. But usually evenings that started like this ended with him in the hot seat. He had said or done something, and now the bill was coming due.

Slowly he walked over to the table, never letting his eyes slip from her's for even a second.

"OK." He finally said with a small, nervous smile as he sat down. "What did I do this time?"

"I need to talk to you, Layton." She said in a small, quiet voice.

Just from her tone he could tell two things. One; he was not the problem tonight, and two; she was.

Watching her, he could tell how hard she was fighting down her emotions. She had barely managed to keep her voice steady just with what little she had said, and already she was blinking back tears.

"All right. Sure." He answered in as calm and steady a voice as he could manage.

Whatever this was, it was not going to be good. He could already tell that. But what worried him more was that she had stopped talking. Instead she simply sat at the table now, staring at the top of it. Every fiber of her being seemed for that moment solely focused on holding herself in that chair.

Very carefully he reached across the table and took hold of one of her hands as it started to shake. He gave it a comforting squeeze as he looked over at her.

"Melanie, tell me what's going on. You know we can talk about anything. You know there's nothing you can say to me that we can't talk out. Nothing we can't resolve together. Right?"

The hand quickly pulled out of his. Which continued to add to his information about what was going on. Whatever it was, she was absolutely terrified to tell him. So much so, she didn't even want him touching her for fear of his reaction.

Very slowly she turned her eyes to him, tears already brimming over as she spoke in a slightly more steady, clearer voice now. As though whatever she had to tell him, she had found resolution with it already.

"First," she said, letting her gaze fall back to the table, "I need to tell you...how this is going to play out."

Layton returned a confused look. "Play out?"

Melanie gave him a quick, short nod. "Our...relationship...," she started, fighting with her voice again to hold it steady, "...our relationship isn't going to survive this, Layton."

Out of everything she could have said to him, that was the last thing he expected.

"Melanie..."

A solid look from her stopped him. "No! Listen to me." She stated. "It won't, Layton. It can't. And...I want you to understand...I already accept that. I won't be angry at you, or try to blame you for anything you say or do. I won't hold anything against you. Any act, word, or decision from you...I totally deserve."

All he wanted to do at that moment was to pull her out of that chair and into his arms and tell her no matter what she did, or what she said to him, he would never turn his back on her. Nothing could make him do that.

But he knew that was the last thing she wanted from him. What she needed from him right then was just for him to listen to her. To let her get it out. Then they could talk about it.

Slowly he nodded to her, letting her know he understood what she needed from him and he was ready to give that to her without interruption.

He had never felt the fear in someone's stare as keenly as he felt it in her's at that moment.

"Layton..., it's about Josie."