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Albert waits for Cooper outside the jail, in the cold. The trees are blowing under a dark sky, branches moving wildly in the night wind.
His jaw is clenched against the chattering of his teeth. His cigarettes are soaked ... useless. He wants one so bad his fingers ache and somewhere in the back of his mind he still sees bits of Leland Palmer's scalp hanging from a steel door, white hair waving gently from the ripped skin.
Closing his eyes doesn't help. He hugs himself compulsively, his hands getting colder from touching the wet wool of his suit. It's still better out here than in there and there's movement in the backlit doorway, a shadow of a man staring out at him.
It's not Coop. It's Deputy Hawk. Albert can't see his face but he knows what's there anyway. Sorrow ... resignation ... respectful awe of the dark powers that lurk in Twin Peak's woods. Nothing more and nothing less.
Fear and disbelief aren't part of the Deputy's emotional life as far as these things go. They usually aren't part of Albert's either except ...
He closes his eyes and tries to forget Palmer's sobbing howls.
"It's cold, Cooper!" he yells into the night, knowing that Dale probably can't hear him. That he's somewhere still inside, wandering in a daze through the slippery metal hallways. He probably won't blame Albert for running away. He didn't go far and besides, there's the Sheriff, ready for Cooper to hold onto, to shower his grief over.
The case has been solved. They've failed. Somehow these two facts should contradict each other. But here, in this hole from a strange hell, they don't. In fact it all makes a strange kind of sense and Albert suddenly realizes why Cooper loves it here and why he hates it.
"Alice In Wonderland" used to scare him too. Not that he ever told anyone that.
At least Alice could wake up. Scatter the cruel world apart like a pack of playing cards. Albert can flail all he wants and nothing will change, the woods will still hold unmentionable things he will never be able to fathom.
Things that make fathers rape and kill their daughters, only to realize it once the dark deeds are done.
"Cooper!" he yells to the darkness again, mostly just to yell. His hands are shaking, he doesn't want to go back in there. He doesn't.
"I'm here, Albert." Like a miracle, Cooper appears and bless him, he has a cup of coffee and a lit cigarette in his hand both of which he hands over.
Albert is pretty sure he wants to kiss him, but doesn't. Instead he takes a deep inhale of tobacco and feels his nerves settle. "Sorry, Coop," he says once his lungs are done thanking God. "I'm kinda shaken."
Cooper nods. There's a bone-deep grief etched into his handsome features that is hard to look at. "Understandable." His hair is slicked back again and he appears more put together than he has a right too, even though he's as wet and cold as Albert is. "It's a harsh wind that blows tonight, Albert."
"Yeah." Albert wants to embrace him but his hands are full. Maybe it is time to consider quitting smoking, except, not tonight. He takes a sip of coffee, as shitty as it is and sighs at the heat that slides down his throat.
He no longer wants to run, but he doesn't want to be there either. Maybe he can convince Cooper to get the hell out of this place, to throw away the Red Queen and her army but futility -- it's not just for the damned anymore.
Ever observant, Dale Cooper sees the battle play over Albert's face and grins wanly. He clasps Albert's shoulder with a tender squeeze. "Care to share that cup of joe with an old friend?"
Now Albert feels close to tears, closer than he's felt in years. He hands the coffee over, watching Dale gratefully clutch it in both hands. "If I'd known he'd tackle a wall, Coop, I'd never have let you in there. I swear it on a stack of books I don't believe in. I know you'll be blaming yourself and ..."
Cooper holds up a silencing hand. "I blame Bob. No one else."
Albert watches him lift the cup's lid and blow on the black coffee, making steam lines in the air. "I'm not leaving you here," he swears, taking another drag on the cigarette, the nicotine making him feel slightly more grounded. "I don't want hear any crap. You're stuck with me until I say otherwise."
"Who says I want you to leave? There are so many things I've yet to show you. I think we both deserve a few days off."
"I suppose heading back to civilization is out of the question," Albert says, flicking the filter away, red embers skittering over the tar. "Don't answer that. It's a rhetorical remark."
They stand side by side for a moment of companionable silence. Cooper tries to hand the coffee back, Albert rebuffs the gesture. Their eyes meet. Cooper's are shining damply. "I'm so glad you're here, Albert. I ... I don't know what I'd do without you."
"I don't know either," Albert says and he leans in before cupping Cooper's cheeks and kissing him. Maybe someone will see them but it certainly won't be the strangest thing that's happened there tonight.
Cooper shivers against the kiss, his fingers curling tightly around the coffee cup. It's a gentle kiss, with promises of more warmth later once back in the Great Northern.
It's exactly the reunion both of them need after a night of hell.
Cooper pulls away first. The color has come back to his cheeks. "Deputy Brennan is here."
A few seconds later the lights from one of the Sheriff's trucks illuminate the gravel. Albert makes a face at the thought of Deputy Droopalong driving them anywhere but he says nothing, which earns him a very bright smile from Cooper.
"Turn up the heat," Albert orders once inside the truck.
Brennan squints and examines the dashboard. "Heat ... heat ... huh. Maybe it's this button?"
"Try the red dial," Cooper offers quickly, squeezing Albert's shoulder, more to silence him than anything else.
"Oh, the red dial!" Brennan exclaims and they are off down the winding roads. They come to the town's lone stoplight and it swings in the wind.
Albert stiffens at the sight. He glances over at Cooper who watches it sway like a hypnotist's watch and somewhere in the woods a murderer is laughing at them all, just waiting until he gets his next victim alone.
Albert closes his eyes and remembers what Alice once said. "I'm not afraid of you! You're nothing but a pack of cards."
He's still mouthing the words, even as Cooper's fingers thread through his own.