Chapter Text
The California I-5 winds along like a smooth grey ribbon, with the endless sea and the sky over Will's shoulders. The trunk of the Mustang is filled their luggage and their camping gear, sleeping bags and Beverly's tent and Will's fishing gear. Beverly's cooking stove is in the backseat, propped up next to their camping utensils, bottled water, and a bag of spices Beverly picked out for the fish. There's also a cooler filled with fruit and white wine and cheese.
"Well, we're not exactly roughing it." Beverly had admitted, and Will had just shrugged, with a small huff of laughter.
They brought lunch with them, half baguette sandwiches with ripe, soft cheese and salty ham, green apples, and guava soda in glass bottles, tucked in with their tea in the open glove compartment.
Beverly drives with one hand on the wheel, with the crisp sound of a tart apple being eaten on Will's left. She tosses her core out the window, and wipes her hand on her jeans. The highway borders a few national parks, and Will lets his eyes glaze over as he spaces out, watching blurs of dark, forest green against the blue and the grey. He's not worried about spacing out, now. In general, he is still very, very concerned about time lapses and amnesia, but on the road with Beverly, where there hasn't been any need for latex gloves and blood samples and yellow tape, Will doesn't worry. There's just him and Beverly, with the cool spring air and the warm sun. So for the two hour ride, Beverly hums along to the radio, and Will zones out.
The sun is high in the sky when they arrive at Andrew Molera State park. The place is largely undeveloped, with tall Douglas Firs and Cedars forming a shady canopy. There's a river and a beach and hiking routes, and it's a quiet time of year. Beverly doesn't need much help setting up the tent, so Will inflates the sleeping mats and takes their their food supplies to the Bear Bin. Beverly quirks an eyebrow approvingly.
"Nice. You know the drill."
Will shrugs. "I like this sort of thing."
It isn't roughing it. Their car is only a few feet from the campsite, and there's an outhouse and a sheltered picnic table. Beverly sets up the cooking stove, asking Will if he wants some tea.
"Yeah, sure. I'm gonna go look around for a few minutes. Make whichever kind you like."
"I'm gonna try Lishan Tieguanyin, then."
Will accompanies Beverly to the car as she goes to fetch the tea. She also grabs a small pot.
"I'm gonna grab some water from the river to boil for the tea. No point in wasting bottled water."
Will agrees, and they set of in companionable silence after Beverly pulls the hood up on the convertible and locks the car.
The forest paths are still a little muddy from spring rains, with only weak sunlight filtered through the canopy making it's way to the trail. Everything smells like damp pine and sweet soil, and Will inhales deeply. Knobby roots and rocks line the trail, with ferns and ground-crawlers peeking out everywhere. Lichens and plush mosses cling to bark and stone, trapping moisture in the air. Will feels perfectly snug in his fleece and boots, and Beverly's opted to layer a flannel over her tank top.
"Will?"
"Yeah."
"Would it be suspicious if we both came back at the same time? I mean, we already left at the same time."
Will chews his bottom lip. "Yeah, it would, I think. Then our secrecy would've been for moot."
"Jack gave you four days?"
"Yeah."
Beverly looks apprehensive. Will figures since she's so good at taking his cues, he should try to make her feel good, too.
"Don't worry about it if he gave you more," Will starts, and Beverly's face relaxes. "Jack… is Jack."
"It's not fair to you that you can't get away from all… that." Beverly gestures abstractly.
Will runs a hand through his hair. "He gave me chances to back out, but I could never really do it. What I do… is good. People are safer when I do my thing, instead of teaching."
"You've trained bright minds, Will. Don't sell yourself short as a teacher. It's great that you're committed to what you do. But if you ever need to step back, or talk to a friend…" Beverly trails of momentarily. "well, I've got you, alright?"
"It's… nice, talking to someone who isn't my shrink about all of this. I mean you probably already know about my, uh, 'deteriorating mental state as a result of my unique disorder'?" Will air quotes. He's not sure when he become so sardonic. It must have been a gradually evolving self-defence mechanism.
Beverly shakes her head, frowning. "Fuck that shit, Will."
It startles a laugh out of him, and Beverly continues.
"I'm serious! All this fucked up blood and guts business would get anyone seriously messed if they had no one to talk to. It's worse for you because you can look at it closer than anyone else. You're trying to use that to prevent this shit from happening, and you work so hard on all fronts, and these suited fucknuts shit all over you from behind their big desks because they want to diagnose. They're the fucked-up ones, not you." Beverly crosses her arms, scowling at nothing in particular.
"Uh, wow," Will grins. "that's, er… quite the vocabulary."
They've stopped walking, with the roar of the bloated spring river right behind them. Beverly crouches on the bank, dipping in the pot. Will hovers, staring. Beverly's colloquial relationship with Jack has always made Will wonder a bit where Beverly stood with the PhD types, and he likes her all the more for her attitude. And her un-pardoned French. Will opts to instead follow Beverly back to the campsite.
…
They bring their lunches back from the car to the picnic table. Will loves eating outdoors. When summer in Wolf Trap rolls around, he spends most of his time eating on the porch while his dogs run on the property. Beverly strains the tea into plastic camp mugs, and sweet-smelling steam curls up into Will's nose as Beverly blows over the rim of her mug to cool the drink off. Will opens a pack of powdered milk with his teeth. It makes him wonder how his dogs are doing, and he tells Beverly as much as he mixes in the powder with his tea.
Beverly checks her phone. "There isn't any service here, but if we drive up to the Big Sur community tomorrow, there should be."
Beverly's told Will about the community. It couldn't really be called a town, even. There's fishing and farming and bee-keeping and one acclaimed gourmet restaurant, run by a chef couple that left their busy life in New York to settle down in Big Sur. Saul has their cookbook, and Beverly raves about all the dishes.
Will chews thoughtfully on his baguette sandwich. "Yeah, sounds good. I'd love to try that breakfast pizza you told me about, anyways."
Beverly smiles over her mug. "You remembered!"
"You did describe it in, uh, pretty vivid detail."