KvsW- Casefile [005.5][REDACTED]

"... And in other news, the massive wildfire that has consumed nearly 10,000 acres in Utah is still raging, and firefighters are still struggling to contain it. State authorities have issued mandatory evacuation orders for several thousand people in the predicted path of the inferno, and the governor of Utah has mobilized the national guard to aid in..."

Dave looked over at Chris, and saw she was visibly distressed over the coverage of the aftermath of their handiwork. He switched the TV off promptly, and they sat there in silence.

When they had gotten home, they'd decided that laying low was the best course of action, as neither of them felt very keen on going to federal prison. And so, they made plans to coop up in her apartment until it all blew over. It was taking longer than anticipated.

One good thing did come out of the ordeal, which was the foreman who hired them promising to not rat them out. Apparently, the fire played right into the construction company's hands, giving them the perfect excuse to explain away the delays the skinwalker had been causing, and allowed them to double the projected budget to make repairs to the foundations and frameworks that burned down. And because of all of that, $20,000 discreetly found its way into their bank accounts.

It didn't help Chris's peace of mind, however. Every little noise outside was putting her on edge, to the point she traded cuddling with Dave to spooning her AK. She didn't air these concerns to Dave, however.

To him, the cold shoulder was being given to him for a completely different reason. He still remembered the feeling he had when he realized he'd shot her. When he thought he killed her. He remembered her anger, and how quickly she slotted it away, so they could deal with finishing the job.

But he felt that she hadn't let go of it. He couldn't blame her, either, if that was the case. And it was just as everything was looking up for them, he'd gone and fucked it all to hell.
It was their second night back home. But Dave felt he was already overstaying his welcome.

Chris retired to her room later that night, after peering out between drawn window blinds to ensure windowless vans or black SUVs were staked out across the street. Satisfied for the moment, she retreated into her room, with a muttered "Goodnight."

Dave sighed with a large degree of sorrow, and quietly packed his meager belongings when her door closed. It didn't take long, so he left her a little note on the kitchen counter, apologizing for fucking everything up.

He stepped out and locked the door behind him, and slide her key back underneath the door. Walking down past the Hummer parked out front, he made his way in the general direction of the dirt road that lead to his cabin.

It was a long walk, especially considering he was wearing his plate carrier and lugging several rifles in his duffel bag. He was somewhat glad that he'd left all his ammunition behind. He supposed it would serve as something of a parting gift.

All the way until sunrise of the next day, he walked. By the time he got to his cabin, he was exhausted.

Walking up to the door, he saw it was ajar.
It gave him pause for a moment. He dropped his duffel bag off to the side, and pulled his KA-BAR from within. He held it close and pushed the door open slightly, then sliced the pie, strafing around the entrance to scan the inside for threats. He saw nothing immediate, and proceeded inside.

He suddenly found himself wishing he'd brought along all of his ammo.

He slowly made his way to his bedroom door, as it was sitting there open. He'd never gotten around to actually replacing the door, and it still had the bullet hole Chris had put in it almost two months ago. And the window was still broken as well.

There was the sound of movement from inside, and he froze up, holding his breath. Something or someone was rummaging about. He waited until the sound tapered off before continuing on.

Slowly, slowly, with bayonet at the ready, he entered his bedroom. It was a bottleneck entry, with a corner obscuring most of it, so he sidled up right next to it and waited.

The sounds of rummaging came from around the corner. Dave took a deep breath...

He snapped around the corner, ready to lunge. "THAT'S MY PURSE! I DON'T KNOW YOU!"
The beast he was expecting whimpered and backed itself into a corner, scared half to death and staring at him with pleading, sorrowful eyes. A dog. Was it the same fucking dog?

Dave placed his knife onto a nearby desk, feeling like an idiot. At least there was nobody around to witness it this time, he thought to himself.

He got closer and squatted in front of the dog, which was still trying to half-scramble up the wall, and simultaneously shrink further into the corner. It was emaciated, flea-bitten, and patches of fur were missing on its flanks. But it didn't appear rabid. Just hungry.

Dave sighed and got up, closing the bedroom door so the dog wouldn't escape into the woods again like the last time. He retrieved his bag from out front and dumped it in the living room, then went over to the kitchen and grabbed a can of Tourist's Delight. A palette of the stuff had been sitting there ever since he moved to Michigan, Ever since that month prior to him meeting Chris. He pushed the thought out of his head. He didn't want to think about her.

Opening up the bedroom door, the dog immediately tried bolting, but almost slammed into the closed front door. It turned back around and whimpered at him, still looking at him with its sad eyes.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you." He placed the open can of meaty stuff on the floor in front of the dog and went back to the bedroom to sort things out.

The dog sniffed at the can suspiciously, then gave it a curious lick, before furiously gobbling down the contents. Dave smiled from the bedroom.
"Hungry little bugger, aren't you..."

The dog barked once at him in response, sitting on its haunches. It licked its chops expectantly. Dave went back into the kitchen and poured two more cans into a small bowl, and set it in front of the dog. It instantly set itself upon the food. It likely hadn't eaten for a while.

Dave went digging around the effects he'd left behind in the cabin, and was somewhat please to find a half-full bottle of lukewarm whiskey sitting around. "Eh, it's only been three months. Should still be good," he said aloud to no one in particular, and took a long swig.

He sat down on the ratty yard sale couch occupying the living room and stared at the wall.

He spent the rest of the day like this, occasionally getting up to dump another can of stuff into the dog's bowl. Eventually the dog ate its fill, and waddled in front of him, laying on its side and letting out a quiet fart.

Dave was deep into the bottle at this point, and drunkenly laughed at the sight.

"Wonder what... I'm gonna name ya," he slurred, watching the dog rest. "I mean, if you're actually... gonna stick around... and not... run away when I open the door..."

He drained the last few drops from the bottle, and tossed it aside, shattering the glass against the far wall of the living room. The noise startled the dog, and it looked up at him with worried eyes.

"Dun worry... about it... it's all fine... not angry..." He lay down on his side, the alcohol drawing him into a deep sleep.
Dave awoke to the sound of banging at his door, the stray dog growling, and a dull throbbing sensation in his head. He rolled off the couch and onto the floor, groaning loudly.

"Gotta stop... drinking so fucking much," he grumbled, pushing himself upright. He brushed past the dog and stumbled over to the door, pulling it open.

"Who the fuck are you and why are you- oh..." The last person he expected to see was Chris on the other side, her arms folded over her chest. She did not look pleased. "Chris, what are you-"

"What the fuck was the meaning of this?" She held out the note he'd left on her counter, practically shaking it in his face.

"Well I-"

"You leave me alone in my apartment, you take all your guns, yet you leave all your fucking boxes of ammo lying around and on top of that, you leave me this fucking note and fuck off back to your shitty little cabin?"

"But I thought-"

"You thought wrong! Thinking- Is that a dog?"

"Yeah, remember when we first met, and you shot at-"

"We'll get to that later. I'm dealing with you, first."

"O-okay..."
She pushed past him and stormed into the cabin. The dog growled and bared its teeth at her, but the glare she gave it sent it running to the bedroom with its tail between its legs.

Dave closed the door and watched her pace around the living room.

"You never got around to ordering any new furniture, did you," she said, electing to lean against the wall rather than sit on the ratty couch.

"No... kept meaning to, but kept forgetting..." He walked around it and sat down heavily, spreading his legs and sprawling out.

She looked over at the little pile of shattered glass in the corner, and looked back at him as he closed his eyes and groaned. She watched him quietly for a few moments. The area around his eye wasn't really swollen anymore, but it was a deep shade of purple still, and he still had the scabs over where his lip and brow were split. She felt a rather strong twinge of guilt in the pit of her stomach.

She took a deep breath and calmed herself down a bit. "Tell me why you left like that last night."

"Isn't the note a little self-evident?"

"Not really. Why would you think you fucked everything up?"

"In what way did I not fuck it all up? Everything was going well between us, and then..."

"Then what?"

"Chris, have you forgotten already? I fucking... shot you... I nearly killed you... I can't forgive myself for that... and I can't expect you to forgive me, either..."

"I already forgave you for that!"

"No you didn't, you're just saying that..."

She stood up from the wall and stomped over to him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him to his feet. "Don't fucking tell me what I mean when I say something, I know what I mean when I say something!"
She drew her hand back as if to slap him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for it. The sight of that gave her pause, and the anger was sapped out of her in an instant. Her hand dropped back down to her side.

"Stop doing that. It looks pathetic."

He obeyed, but avoided eye contact with her. "And you wonder why I don't believe you..."

"What was that?"

"The way you're fucking treating me... why would I have any reason to believe that you've forgiven me? It's pretty fucking obvious you hate my goddamn guts... I don't blame you for it after what I did, but please don't try to say it's not the case..."

She shook him by the collar violently. "It's not the fucking case! I don't hate you!"

He said nothing, and just kept looking off to the side, not even resisting.

"Look at me for fuck's sake! Because this meek beta bullshit is really pissing me off!"

"You can just leave, you know... you don't have to put up with my 'meek beta bullshit' at all..."

"I'm not leaving!"

"Why not? This is why I left in the middle of the night, all of this only justifies that decision..."

"No, it doesn't justify you leaving me!"

"I was trying to make it a clean break!" he said, raising his voice. "I was trying to avoid this, because I figured that if I stayed, this was going to happen sooner or later!"

"No, this is only happening right now because of that decision!" She started fighting back tears.

"You said it yourself, I'm pathetic, I'm meek, and I almost killed you for fuck's sake!" he shouted, looking her straight in the eyes and gesturing wildly. "And yet you don't want me to leave? What's your fucking problem, Chris?"

"My fucking problem? My fucking problem is that I'm in love with you, dipshit!"

The cabin was utterly silent for several long moments.

The silence was broken by Chris suddenly breaking down, sobbing raggedly. She let go of his collar and covered her face with her hands, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

"I love you... I fucking love you," she managed to say between sobs. "Don't leave me... please don't leave me... not like everyone else..."

He stood there, dumbstruck, his indignation gone. He couldn't formulate a sentence or even think clearly, and so she stood there in front of him crying for a while, before his brain started to work again.

"You... you love me?"

"I do... yes, I do..."

"If that's true," he said, his voice shaky, "then you sure have a funny way of showing it..."

She reached out and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close and burying her face in his shoulder, tears running into his shirt.
Tentatively, he put his arms around her as well. He felt the sobs wracking her slender frame. Her knees suddenly gave out from under her, and he found himself being the only thing holding her up.

"Come on... uh... let's have a seat..."

He pulled her back and set her down on the couch next to him, letting her cry herself out. Gently, he patted her back.

She eventually fell silent, though he still felt her breathing somewhat raggedly.
"Chris, I..." he started, but trailed off, still unable to articulate effectively. "I had no idea..."

She lifted her face from his shoulder, and wiped away the tears from her eyes with the palm of her hand, though the corners of her mouth were still downturned in a sorrowful way. Her lip trembled slightly. Her eyes were red, and her nose and cheeks were rosy and flushed from emotion.

"I mean... I had an idea... but... I didn't know you felt so... strongly..."

"That's... my fault..." Her voice was trembling in such a way that he felt she'd burst into tears all over again any moment. "I'm a massive... cunt..."

"You're not a cunt, Chris."

"I had you... honestly thinking that... that I hated you... when nothing... could be further... from the truth..."

Dave found himself wiping away some moisture from his eyes as well, and sniffling a bit.

"I don't want you... to leave me... I've got nobody else... I've been alone for so... long... I don't want to go back... to that... I couldn't bear it..."

"I'm not going to leave you," he said, cupping her cheek, wiping away a wayward tear with his thumb. "I just... wish you'd have told me all of this sooner..."

"I know... I know..." She pushed her face against his chest and sobbed quietly once more.

Dave placed his hand on the back of her head, keeping her close. With tears rolling down his own cheeks, he kissed the top of her head and did the best he could to comfort her.

"Shhh... shhh... it's alright... I'm not leaving you... not ever..."

She hugged him tighter as he said that, and a few minutes later, she swallowed hard, and took several deep, shaky breaths to regain a semblance of her composure.

She looked him in the eyes and attempted a smile. He returned one to her, and brushed some unruly red hair covering one of her eyes out of the way, eliciting a soft chuckle from her.

"Can you forgive me?" she asked, maintaining the eye contact.

"For what?"
"For... everything... for not telling you sooner..."

"You don't even need to ask. You already know my answer."

She smiled sadly, and adjusted her position, so that her head was resting in his lap, and she was looking up at him. She took one of his hands in her own and squeezed it gently. He reciprocated in kind.

"I love you..."

"I love you, too... I love you too..."

They stayed together like this until morning came, together on the ratty couch, with her head in his lap and their fingers entwined.

Not much more was spoken.

But not much more needed to be said.