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oom: morning after kate leaves, out back
He wakes up to an empty space in the bed beside him, and it takes him a minute to push the fog out of his brain enough to realize that the sheets next to him shouldn't be empty. Doc pushes himself up on an elbow and glances towards his bathroom, frowning when the light is off, and door open. She's not there. A quick sweep of the room...
She's gone.
His feet hit the hardwood floor in seconds, and he quietly goes to the bathroom and checks to make sure she's not around the corner. He checks the floor at the foot of his bed and the closet (just to be sure she's not curled up somewhere) before he swears under his breath and grabs his boots.
Maybe she went out to the stables. Or she's just downstairs getting breakfast.
Doc checks the stables, first. All of the horses are still where they should be, and Katherine's not anywhere to be found. He scours the bar, next, not making conversation with anyone (or being obvious about who he's looking for). He's about ready to go check the library again, which he realizes his hands are shaking.
He curls his hands into fists and then stops at the bar. "Darlin', I know you don't usually, but..."
A pack of cigarettes (they're some modern brand) and a lighter appear, and he swipes both of them off the counter. "Thanks, Bar." It's a bit of a fight with the cellophane wrap but he manages to get it undone as he walks for the back door.
Just a few minutes and then I'll go check the inlet, then look in the library...
He walks right past Ben Wade, not even registering the outlaw sitting at the bar. He needs to stop his hands from shaking, needs to get outside, needs to find her...
She's gone.
His feet hit the hardwood floor in seconds, and he quietly goes to the bathroom and checks to make sure she's not around the corner. He checks the floor at the foot of his bed and the closet (just to be sure she's not curled up somewhere) before he swears under his breath and grabs his boots.
Maybe she went out to the stables. Or she's just downstairs getting breakfast.
Doc checks the stables, first. All of the horses are still where they should be, and Katherine's not anywhere to be found. He scours the bar, next, not making conversation with anyone (or being obvious about who he's looking for). He's about ready to go check the library again, which he realizes his hands are shaking.
He curls his hands into fists and then stops at the bar. "Darlin', I know you don't usually, but..."
A pack of cigarettes (they're some modern brand) and a lighter appear, and he swipes both of them off the counter. "Thanks, Bar." It's a bit of a fight with the cellophane wrap but he manages to get it undone as he walks for the back door.
Just a few minutes and then I'll go check the inlet, then look in the library...
He walks right past Ben Wade, not even registering the outlaw sitting at the bar. He needs to stop his hands from shaking, needs to get outside, needs to find her...
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"You ain't got nothin' to apologize for."
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"If she gets hurt..."
The panic rises up in his throat and he glances around the grounds, quickly, and nearly jumps out of his skin when he backs into the building, still a few feet away from the door. The solid wall behind him helps keep him from falling over, but he's just so damn cold.
we should've gone with her
she should've told me
what if she
No words come when he opens his mouth this time, and he closes it after a minute and looks at Ben with wounded eyes, before he closes them and lets his head fall back against the wall.
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The icy air bites at his ears, but he resists the urge to adjust his hat.
(No sudden movements, in case Doc opens his eyes and starts.)
"She's smart, Doc. And she's a damn good shot."
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The anger is fading, the shock following behind it, and the hurt is setting in.
"Serves me fuckin' right."
Doc sniffs again and then clears his throat, kicks at the ground with his boot and then looks up at Ben. The earlier fear (he looked like prey staring wide eyed at a predator) is gone, replaced by the cold edge of the outlaw in his blood.
"You better pray to every god you know," he says, simply. "Because if she comes back here shot up--"
like I did when I left to go into a hellstorm
"--then I'm gonna make sure you regret lettin' her walk out that fuckin' door."
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"I already regret it plenty. And you wanna know the truth, I figured I'd be bleedin' by now."
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"The only reason you ain't, yet, is because I'm gonna need your help goin' out and takin' care of things if she doesn't finish the job proper."
It's not an option. Ben will be assisting.
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He lets out a breath.
"She just -- goddamn, she wouldn't listen."
The flint in her eyes had matched the kind his can hold -- cut from the same rock as Dan's, that day they ran for the 3:10.
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A beat.
He smiles, and even laughs a little, helplessly.
"I love her for it."
He swallows hard and looks down at the snow, throat suddenly tight and raw. There's a sting in his eyes that he's not going to let Ben see, no way in hell. He pulls in a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair.
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"I know you do."
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(There's nothing left to say.)
He wipes at his nose, and sniffs again, before he sets his jaw and nods one more time, more to himself than anything else. Then he rocks slightly on his heels and steps away from the wall.
It's four steps to the back door, and he doesn't say a word.
(He doesn't trust his voice not to give him away.)
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He can't feel his hands, he knows that much.
But he doesn't want to go back inside just yet, so he heads for the stables to saddle Gabriel.
He doesn't return to the bar until well past sundown.