oom: stables, outside milliways
It's been more than a few days since the last time Doc actually spoke to Katherine - and the way that they left each other has been biting at his insides, even through the battle and everything else that's gone on since the night he came back in half-frozen to death. Since then, he's gotten the sneaking feeling that she's trying to avoid him. He
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When his voice suddenly splits the air, it sends a prickle down her back. But she makes no outward appearance of being surprised, other than the brief hesitation of her right hand as she brushes down Duncan.
She keeps at her work, not looking up to greet him back. She is alert as he moves to his desk, but her eyes are on the slick, deep brown coat of the animal in front of her.
"Mornin'."
Her voice comes out quiet, barely audible.
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"Good ride?"
It takes him a moment to find a pen, before he drags his chair out from the desk and has a seat, not bothering to unbutton his coat.
The barn might be warmer than the outside, but it's still cold enough that he wants his coat on.
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"Yes."
She stays focused on her work, Duncan nickering softly as she works at his lathered coat carefully, tenderly, taking care to be thorough.
"You feeling any better?"
Her voice is even, if not a little distant.
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Doc nods, though he's not sure she can see him (if she's even looking his direction) as he reaches for a fresh sheet of paper and begins to make a few notes.
"Bar made sure that I got plenty of chicken an' those dumplings, they helped a lot."
Whether she had anything to do with that or not, they still helped.
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She falls silent, her hand working in steady, circular motions across Duncan's coat.
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"Got thrown out into a bit of a scuffle, the other day, but I managed alright. I apologize if you were lookin' for me and I was gone - I still ain't sure how long I was out there. Time was a bit strange."
Doc looks up and studies a piece of paper tacked to the wall, dates on it, before he glances back down at his note and then folds it neatly, writes a name on the outside, and then pockets it.
He glances over his shoulder at her.
"You need a hand with anything?"
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Brush, Brush, Brush...
"I'm fine."
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Doc watches her another moment or two, before he glances back to his logbook and idly flips through the pages, for lack of anything to say.
He knows what he should be saying, but he just...it's not coming out right in his head, so he knows he'll mess it up when it leaves his mouth.
That is the last thing he wants to do.
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She doesn't say anything else for a good, long while, and the only sounds that can be heard in the barn are those of Duncan, shifting, breathing, nickering, and the brush pulling through his dampened coat.
Brush, Brush, Brush...
The sound stops, and she stands there a moment, her back to Doc, before she tosses the brush back into the wooden pail by Duncan's foreleg, where the other grooming tools are. Her hand moves to the bridge of her nose instead, the other at her hip, and he'll likely be able to hear her sigh.
She's gathering her words as well, but one line keeps repeating again and again in her mind.
"'Made it out to Liberty just fine'?"
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He's been replaying that night over in his head for months, now. Telling himself that he should have said something. Anything. He can hear her sigh and it just knots his stomach up tight.
He sets the pen down, and runs a hand through his already messy hair.
"I should have...I should I said somethin' 'bout goin' back. Even if it was just that I couldn't talk 'bout it right then. I was just tired an' tore up 'bout things, wearin' that costume...I didn't want to deal with it."
His elbow rests against the desk, and he rests his head in his hand, eyes covered by his palm.
"That don't make not tellin' you 'bout it right, I just...I'm sorry."
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At some point, her other hand shifted to her hips, and now, as she stands akimbo, listening to him murmur behind her, she lets her eyes peer over the curve of Duncan's shanks to the barn entrance, focusing on the growing gray light of morning.
Her heart is heavy, but her mind is distracted by thousands of questions. She cannot begin to focus on just one.
She just stands there. Quiet. And motionless.
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Doc turns around in the chair and shifts his body so that he's facing her, then, and he studies her form, the way she's looking out of the barn.
He swallows, gently. Nervous.
"M'still gettin' used to livin' a normal life, I guess. I just wasn't ready so I didn't say nothin', but I know I should have."
I can't say that enough.
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One step.
Then two.
Slowly, she shifts to face him, not betraying the barest hint of emotion on her porcelain face. Her eyes are open, wide and piercing, and they're holding his gaze in a vice.
"So..." she begins, and her voice is oh-so-calm. "You're saying you didn't mention your trip back home to anyone, in that case?"
It barely sounds like she is baiting him.
(Mostly because she doesn't want him to bite.)
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Doc shakes his head, ever so slightly.
"I...I told Jack, just a few weeks ago. He had his friend's baby girl in with him, and I just...we got to talkin' about it. About what happened. And I mentioned it to Ben, the other night, when I was tryin' to figure out...what to say to you."
From his voice, he's very, very ashamed of himself.
He holds her gaze for as long as he can - a few seconds after that admission - and then he drops it to the ground, somewhere at her feet.
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You can almost see it on her face.
She continues to watch him, long after his eyes fall from hers. She isn't sure what to say to him right now. She isn't angry -- not really. She isn't going to yell at him, or scold him.
But she is hurt. A little betrayed, and if she'd admit it to herself, maybe even a little jealous.
"You said you couldn't go back. We talked about it, and you told me you wouldn't go back. I asked you, Doc, and you didn't--"
Emotion is starting to come through in her voice again.
"--You didn't say anything."
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Doc sighs, and his fingers rake quickly through his hair - he's fussing with it in an attempt to fix something but even his own body is betraying him, right now - before he settles his hands on the back of his neck, linking his fingers against his spine.
"I should have said something, even if it was just tellin' you that I couldn't say nothin' about it at the time. You would have understood. I was just...I was friggen stupid, that's what I was," he sighs, frustrated with himself for getting them into this mess.
He shakes his head, eyes on the ceiling.
"I wasn't gonna go back. I knew I couldn't stay. I just...when I left, I knew that I owed it to that boy to try, so I went back."
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