Page 52

Walt didn’t shower with his eyes closed.

Instead, he turned off the light.

The crack under the door broke the darkness enough that Walt could locate the soap and shampoo, but he couldn’t see Hollis’s body, not even accidentally.

He washed it quick and mechanical, “a military shower,” Walt supplied. Then the invader in Hollis’s body just stood there under the spray. Head tilted back the way he’d been when Hollis had seen him standing in the street.

Hollis didn’t know how to feel anymore. He’d felt too much in too short of a time, it was exhausting. He started to cry again, softly.

Walt put some of Hollis’s ma’s conditioner in his hands and rubbed it together. Then he smoothed it into Hollis’s hair and scrubbed his scalp in soothing circles. Dipped his fingers behind Hollis’s ears and down the nape of his neck, then back up to the crown.

It felt... nice, in spite of all things, and that only made him want to cry harder.

Walt sighed.

He leaned them against the wall, forehead and hands touching the tile, and let Hollis weep.