Blood Bargain

Twelve: In Which the Sheriff Returns

If Kaz could have held Ellie all night after seeing her cry like that, he would have. She insisted she was fine, though, and he didn't want to push her.

In the two days since then, she'd been eerily quiet. Instead of laughing loudly, sometimes at his terrible jokes, she'd been tapping her fingers on the table and scratching down notes with a pencil. He'd tried to ask if she was alright, but there was a delicate kind of tension between them that seemed like it might snap at any moment.

More than anything, Kaz wanted her to open up to him. He'd been so afraid that she'd pull away after his admission that he... cared more than might be appropriate for a bargain. She hadn't, but she wasn't moving closer, either.

He also felt stuck, to be fair to her. It wasn't entirely Ellie's fault that they were emotionally hanging in midair. It took two.

Yes, he'd voiced that it was possible for this to be... more. He could even admit that he wanted it. However, he could also see that pushing any more might be a terrible decision. They were balancing on the edge of something, and neither of them were ready to jump. It was endearing, frustrating, and devastating all at once to know that they were both, in their own ways, afraid to move forward at this point.

Yes, he wanted to hold her all night, but Kaz still couldn't bring himself to hold her hand without an excuse. There was some sort of order to things, and it couldn't jump too far too soon. He needed that logic. It kept him sane. His practical mind was all he had some days, his calculations his only company. If he couldn't logic his way out of this situation, then... then... Well, Kaz wasn't sure. He did think that it might be futile to apply logic to the living tornado that was Ellie, though.

She was wild, soft, and beautiful, and he had absolutely no desire to tame her. In fact, it would make Kaz very happy to see her embrace herself a little more, but as they walked down King Street towards the Sheriff's office, it was easy to see why her natural light was a little dimmer than it might be.

This time, more Boone residents were up and moving around King Street than the first time they'd gone to town. People actually crossed the street to avoid passing her on the sidewalk, and they didn't even try to hide it. Their movement patterns were more obvious due to sheer numbers. Most of the residents gave Ellie a wide berth, and those that acknowledged her presence did so at a distance.

"Emmaline, Thomas, and Abraham are about the only ones who get too close to me," Ellie said with a sad smile. "We gotta go see Abraham on our way outta town, too. He can take care of that rabbit skin for ya."

"How can this not bother you?" Kaz shook his head. More people crossed to the other side of the streets, nervously looking over their shoulders or keeping their heads down entirely.

"They all think I went crazy when Ben died," she said softly. "I can't blame 'em, either. I lost it for a week or two."

Ellie, for her part, looked accustomed to it. It wasn't that it didn't bother her, he realized, but she had experienced this for long enough that it rolled off her. The harm was already done, and she'd developed a thick skin because of it. Anger flared to life deep in the pit of his stomach, a raging fire that wouldn't die down. She didn't deserve this.

"They can't allow you a week or two after your fiancé was killed?" Kaz asked incredulously.

"I know it sounds harsh, and... it is," Ellie said slowly, "but when you're like me and you're flagged as different, it's easy for little things to spiral into bigger things. And I'm not gonna say it's fair or right, but..." she trailed off, heaving a sigh. "It's just that I'm tired a' fighting. That's all. Sometimes it's easier to just let it roll off your back and do what ya can than push against it."