wheelsy_sheriff | [[thursday]]

Entry tags:

[[thursday]]

[And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off]

Bill is sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of Frosted Flakes, idly sifting through puzzle pieces. Only a small part of the puzzle is on the tabletop in front of him and the pieces are in the open box beside his elbow, his bowl on the other side.

After waking up it'd taken him awhile to get his bearings, and he was surprised when he discovered he'd slept right on through the day and night.

Kate was asleep and he'd been extra careful not to wake her when he slipped out of bed.

The phone was on the floor beside the bed along with the notepad with the messages she'd taken and he'd brought both with him to the kitchen; they're sitting on the table now, being ignored.

He's scooping up another spoonful of flakes when someone knocks. Turning his head towards the front door he glances at the hallway leading to the bedroom and gets up.

The knock sounds again and he picks up his step, moving quicker to get the door before whoever is on the other side wakes up Kate. Pulling it open he's ready to run off a reporter and instead finds himself staring at a deputy.

"Rudy?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She pales.

Pressure builds behind her eyes, and she closes them to guard against the impending headache; her fingers curl into the soft cotton of his T-shirt just below his ribs.

"Maybe the phone company can help," she says, hating the near-desperate edge in her voice. "Or the department can trace the call."

"We can if they call back."

Part of him wants them to, so they have the chance to catch the bastard. He knows, though, that if the person does call back they'll have to take the threat as more serious.

Something in his thoughts triggers another and his eyes go to the phone on the table and then to Kate.

"I don't want my mom to know."

She's worried enough as it is, hearing about this... it'll only make things harder.

"Okay. That's probably for the best."

She nods, one hand sliding up his torso, and her thumb traces the edge of his collar.

"I, um."

A breath.

"I didn't tell my dad about the calls I got after Marie's part in the attacks went public."

He nods too, grateful to her for agreeing.

On her next words the hand that's been smoothing over her back stills.

"What calls?"

"It's nothing."

She forces away memories of overt threats and chilling promises.

"You ungrateful bitch -- your family needs to leave this country before someone makes you pay."

"Too bad your sister didn't fry you in the desert."

"Terrorists run in the family? Let's hope not, for your sake."

"Just more stupid people, that's all."

"Nothin'," He repeats.

Trying to keep hurt and frustration from his voice he takes a slow breath.

"Were you still gettin' 'em when you left?"

Her eyes fall to his collarbone and she shakes her head.

"There were only a few, and the last one came about a week before I got back to the bar."

He nods, jaw tightening, then asks, "The guy on the phone last night, he say anything like he was threatenin' you?"

"No."

Her voice wavers and she bites the inside of her cheek.

She's not going to cry -- she's not. Bill doesn't need this, doesn't need her falling apart in his arms before his appointment with Dr. Montaño, but god, what that caller said --

She presses her too-hot face into his shoulder.

"Just you."

Throat working, the edge leaves again and his voice is soft concern as he holds her tighter, gently stroking her hair.

"All right. It's gonna be okay, just some asshole on a phone thinkin' he's tough, that's all."

His eyes slide closed and he ignores the thoughts asking what if it's more?

"Rudy said they didn't see nothin' all night."

His lip twitches and he squeezes her, voice lightening, "Fatso scared the hell outta him, though."

Eyes squeezed shut, she focuses on the feel of his arms around her and his hand in her hair.

It's nothing, just like Dave said last night.

When the sandpaper burn lessens behind her eyes, she lifts her head and almost manages a smile. Her eyes trace his features -- the planes of his face, the curve of his lips, the stubble along his jaw -- and she tilts her head to give him a grateful kiss.

He tastes like sugar, and she's thankful she brushed her teeth as soon as she got up to spare him from morning breath.

He returns the kiss, giving comfort and taking it.

Breaking off the kiss he looks down at her, into her too-tired blue eyes.

"You wanna take the day off? I can handle things now while you get some rest."

She shakes her head.

"I'm okay."

Her thumb strokes the side of his neck.

"When's your appointment?"

You're not.

He shakes his head, hand moving from her hair down to her hip.

"I'm not gonna go. I gotta talk to Dave then I'll call up the doctor's office an' cancel."

He's not going to leave her alone after this and doesn't see himself talking much anyhow.

Her thumb stills; there's an all-too-familiar look in his eyes that twists her stomach.

"Cancel? Why?"

"I-- "

Don't want to go or leave you.

"Like I said, I'll handle things here today. I got a lotta phone calls to return an' might head down to the station to go over things with Dave..."

After she's had a chance to get in more sleep.

She wants to tell him that he should go, that these sessions are important, but what he's saying makes sense.

Don't push him -- not today.

Maybe she's more tired than she thought; maybe she imagined the shadow that passed across his face.

"Okay."

She gives his hand at her hip a gentle squeeze before stepping back, and crosses the kitchen to check for coffee in the pot.

He nods and lets her go, grateful she isn't going to argue him on this.

Watching her go to the coffee pot he speaks up.

"You sure you don't wanna try an' get in some more sleep? It's still kinda early."

She's reaching for a mug, and her fingers freeze for a moment. She knows he's only asking out of concern, and a nap would be smarter than relying on caffeine, but --

Her back to him, she shakes her head slightly and pulls down the cup.

"I'm sure. I'm fine."

"Kate,"

He knows she has to be exhausted, she's been going through everything he has. He doesn't want to push, but looking at her back he can imagine all the weight she must be carrying and can't help but worry about her.

"I think you should."

Her hand is wrapped around the handle of the coffee pot, and she pauses, not lifting it just yet.

Her head turns a fraction, but she doesn't look at him.

"But I -- Bill, if he calls back ... "

I want to know. I want to be awake. I don't want you to pick up the phone.

"Then I'll handle it."

He tries hard not to let that edge slip into his voice but he can't help wondering if she thinks he can't take care of things, and feels a small resentment with the thought.

"I really don't think he'll call back anyways, Kate."

Moving forward he lays his hand on her shoulder.

"It'll be all right."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject