Chapter Text
WALT:
When Walter Longmire woke up on his 16th birthday to find that his left wrist was the same as it was the night before, he was relieved, ecstatic even.
His heart beating wildly in his chest he threw the blankets off of his body and scrambled out of bed. Throwing on a pair of old cut off Jean shorts, a discarded teeshirt off the floor and shoving his feet in to his scuffed trainers he flew down the hallway.
"Hi Mom, Hey Dad, I gotta go" he hollered crashing out through the front door, down the steps on to the dusty dirt track leading away from the family home.
He made the 12 minute run from his house to Martha's in 10 and a half.
By the time he arrived his shaggy sand colored hair was plastered to his forehead, and his grey teeshirt was soaked through with sweat.
Martha a slender, freckled, redhead girl was eating breakfast on the front porch, waiting for his arrival it seemed.
"Morning Miss Martha" Walt said jogging to a stop in front off her, only slightly out of breath, a wild grin adorning his face and holding his arms behind his back.
"Good morning Walt" Martha softly smiled back.
"Well?
"Well what?" Martha giggled.
"Aren'tcha gonna ask me?" He raised his eyebrows still grinning like a madman.
"And what exactly would I have to ask a sweaty young man panting on my doorstep at eight o'clock on a saturday morning?" She teased placing her bowl of oatmeal down and standing up, arms crossed over her chest, trying and failing to look stern.
Walt laughed, rolling his eyes and moved his arms out from behind his back wrists up for her to see.
"I didnt get one!" He was practically shaking from excitement.
"Martha, I didnt get a soul mark!, I'm free to be with who ever I want, and I choose you, I always choose you" he proclaimed.
Martha who's 16th birthday had come and gone a month ago, with no name appearing on her wrist, broke down with tears.
"Hope your not that fussed with sweat, cos I'm about to hug ya" Walt warned, pulling the red headed girl in to his arms tightly.
Later that night, long after he had finally gone home Walter noticed, whilst bathing a new scar on his thigh. A scar that he had no recollection of have been inflicted on him.
It wasn't until he was 25 and saw his first gunshot victim as a sheriff deputy, that he realized the scar on his thigh uncannily resembled a bullet wound.
Walt and Martha dated throughout the remained of their high school years, got married, got jobs, brought a house, had a Baby girl with flaming red hair and Walter's eyes.
They were happy.
The soul mark didnt appear on Walter's wrist until many years later. Cady was a year away from her own 16th birthday when Walter came home from work complaining of an arm that had been itching like mad all day.
"Oh Walt, you could have been bitten by something" Martha admonished, setting her book aside and rising from their bed.
"Take your shirt of so I can have a look" she ordered.
"Yes madam" Walt grinned cheekily unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom up and discarding it on the floor.
Walt watched the humor die from Martha's face as her eyes widened and a hand flew up to cover her mouth.
"Martha? What's wrong…" the words died on his lips as he looked down and saw the letters etched in to the skin of his wrist.
The name 'Victoria' in sharp sloped letters invaded his eyes just as the invaded his skin.
"Oh no, Martha no!" Walt gasped clutching the offending wrist to his body hiding the mark from view.
Martha had sunk down to the floor of there bedroom, and was sobbing in a wrecked and wretched way.
"I…. I'm gonna fix this" the words tumbled from his mouth, "I swear I'm gonna make it go away" his whole body trembled as he stumbled from the room.
"Dad?" Cady appeared in the doorway of her room, "why is Mom crying? What's going on?"
"Stay in your room Cady" Walt ordered marching past her.
Pulling the knife from his holster he threw open the fireplace door, and trusted the blade of the knife in to the flames.
Cady, ignoring her father's order ran in to her parents bedroom.
"Mom? Whats going on? MOM! get up, some things wrong with dad" she cried grabbing her mother's shoulders and shaking her.
Walt's scream of pain sent them running in to the living room, to witness, Walter on his knees tears streaming down his pained face as he held the red hot blade to the skin of his wrist.
"DAD!"
"WALTER NO!" both woman yelled hurrying forward, Cady wrenched the knife from her father's hand and threw it across the room, even as Martha pried his burnt, abused flesh away.
"It's still there" he groaned, "oh Martha I'm so sorry" he sobbed.
Martha grasped his face in her shaky hands, she was crying as well.
"Walter, it's okay, it's alright" she soothed.
"You didnt choose this, and it doesnt matter, you love me and I love you, and you're stubborn enough that no Mark's going to change that, and I ain't going anywhere" she soothed, as Walt clung to her desperately.
VIC:
Victoria Moretti woke 5 minutes before her alarm was due to go off, which wasnt that rare of an occurance seeing as she had to share a house with a pack off wild teenage boys stampeding through the halls at all hours of the day and night.
"GIVE IT A REST YOU FILTHY ANIMALS!" She yelled rolling on to her stomach and clamping her pillow down over her head.
All she wanted was her allotted amount of sleep was that to much to ask?
Weren't they meant to be nice today of all days it was her birthday for fucks sake.
"Jesus christ it's my fucking birthday!" She suddenly clicked.
She scrambled up, eyes still clamped shut.
This was it, the moment every kid grows up fantasizing about. Was she going to be one of the bonded, her soulmates name proudly embroidered in to her skin for all too see? Or would she be one of the others bondless but free to date anyone they wanted who wasnt marked with no awkward questions, now frowning stares or judgements.
With a deep steadying breath, she opened her eyes up.
"You have got to be shitting me!"
'Walter' was sprawled across her left wrist.
"Who the hell names somebody Walter?!".
….
Reluctantly Vic made her way downstairs, hungry for breakfast.
"Jeez Vic what happened to your arm" Victor gasped dropping the toast in his hand.
"Haha very funny, that's real mature Vic" she grumbled flopping in to the seat at the kitchen table opposite him.
"No I'm being serious, your arms been slashed" he poked her shoulder where a fresh scar disrupted the otherwise smooth skin of her left arm.
"Huh, I dont know?" Vic frowned, pushing his arm away, she traced the scar with her own fingers.
"How can you have a scar as ugly as that and not know where it came from?"
"That's a sign of a strong bond right there" her father announced entering the room.
Both kids looked up at their dad confused, to see him smiling fondly down at Victoria.
"Most people, when the bond reveals itself, it's just a name, a name that brings you a certainty that someone out there was made for you, mind body and soul. But just a name, hardly any good if it spells out something common like John, or Tom" he chuckled.
"But that right there" his smile widened as he touched the scar on her arm. "That means something special. That's a sign of true devotion, loyalty,…. Love", Vic's face lit up at her fathers words, maybe the scar wasnt so ugly after all.
"So, …. Who's the lucky guy Vic?" Her dad grinned.
"His name's Walter" Vic announced shyly, blushing.
"That's a stupid name" Victor sniggered, only to get rapt round his ears by his dad.
"Ouch, okay, sorry" he grumbled.
"Dont make fun of his name again" Vic warned suddenly finding herself very protective of the name imbedded in her skin. This boy that was her soulmate, perfect for her in every way, no body was going to insult him and get away with it, she decided determinedly.