A/n - Wasn't sure whether to post this or not. I started it at the beginning of the year but never finished it. Now that Season 5 is about to land, I thought it was now or never, so here is my version of what happened next after the finale.

Chapter 1

This feeling was alien to Walt. It had been such a long time for him. He felt many things, more than he had for some time. He felt lust maybe even love, but ever the pragmatist thought it was far too early to describe his feelings as love. Holding Dr. Monaghan in his arm, knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her, felt amazing.

He breathed in her scent as he kissed her milky skin, trailing his lips along her neck to her shoulder slowly and sensuously towards her breast. She was perfect. They had spent a lovely evening together. He found he could relax in her company and let his walls down. A woman like that was hard to find.

He must have lingered a little too long as she suddenly took control and flipped him and sat playfully astride him. He looked up at her and couldn't help but smile. She ran her fingers through his chest hair and teasingly down between his ribs to his belly button and below before leaning down to kiss his lips. They kissed passionately. Walt took her in his powerful arms and rolled her gently so he was once again in control.

He was lost in this beautiful woman when he heard the crashing sound as someone burst through his cabin door. He sat up immediately and jumped from his bed. His instinct told him there was danger. His first thought was where had he left his gun. It was out in the living room. He ran to the bedroom door hoping to make it to his Colt, but it was already too late.

The intruder had Walt's rifle which he religiously left by his front door. By the time Walt was in the living room, his own weapon was pointed at him. He instantly froze and raised his hands. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. A young haggard-looking man stood there, glaring at him. There was something familiar about him. A sense of foreboding descended upon Walt as he realized this was a bad situation.

"Put it down, Son."

"I don't think so, Sherriff."

Walt wondered if he could overpower him. He had a height and weight advantage, but the intruder had a weapon.

"Dr. Monaghan? Donna? Are you in there?" he called menacingly.

Walt's face betrayed his surprise. Donna? What did he want with Donna?

"Yes, Sheriff. Me and your girlfriend go way back," he told him.

Donna was scared. She had recognized the voice. Tommy Clark, a veteran she had treated and had been trying to get away from.

"You need to leave, Tommy. This is not the place. He's nothing to do with this."

"Oh, I'm leaving, Donna, but you're coming with me."

Walt didn't like the sound of that and reacted instinctively by taking a protective step forward, an action Tommy obviously interpreted as a threat because, before he knew it, Walt was being propelled back through the bedroom door by the force of the 30 caliber bullet from his own rifle impacting his body. An almighty pain erupted instantly just below his right shoulder before he landed heavily on the flat of his back on the bedroom floor.

He immediately heard Donna scream in terror.

As he flirted with consciousness he was sure he heard Donna crying. She had jumped from the bed and dropped to her knees beside him. Her blurred figure leaned over him. He felt her soft hands pressing on his chest, but he wanted her to stop. It hurt so much.

And then without warning, it did stop. Her reassuring touch disappeared. Walt raised his left arm weakly and reached for her, but he barely had the strength to hold it up.

Tommy grabbed Donna roughly by her wrist and wrenched her away from him.

"No. Walt!" she cried desperately as she was dragged away. "Oh my God. Please, Walt."

Hearing her panicked screams Walt knew he had to help her. Using every remaining ounce of his faltering strength and the support of the door frame, he shakily hauled himself to his feet, but was too slow and too weak to help her. He staggered into the living room, grasping at furniture for reinforcement and headed towards the door. It was then that he heard his truck starting up outside and knew it was useless.

The effort of getting to the door was too much for his wounded body. The room was spinning. Breathing was becoming difficult. He knew he was losing a lot of blood and was most likely going to pass out. Donna needed his help, but he also knew he needed help. He stumbled towards the phone table and managed to grab the handset before his legs gave out. He collapsed to the floor. His pain was immense. His vision was closing in. He brought the phone close to his face and dialed 911. All the while he tried to draw air into his lungs.

The operator answered quickly. He managed to identify himself, at least he thought he did, before the darkness closed in and he finally passed out leaving the phone line open. The 911 operator called his name a number of times hoping he would respond, but he didn't.

Luckily for Walt, she followed procedure and called the local law enforcement office in the rural area, having located the caller from identifying the caller's number. Ferg happened to be manning the Sherriff's office when the call came in.

"Sherriff's Department, Deputy Ferguson speaking."

"This is 911 operator Kelly Svenson speaking. I have received an emergency call from a caller who identified himself as Sherriff Walt Longmire. He is in need of emergency assistance. Can you respond?"

"What? Walt? Is he okay?"

"I'm not sure what the nature of the emergency is, Sir. He identified himself and then I lost contact," she explained.

"Do you know where he is?"

"The call came from his registered residence," she told Ferg.

"Ok, I'm on my way."

"I'll dispatch an ambulance."

"What? Why?" Ferg asked sounding flustered, before correcting himself and becoming professional Ferg again. "I mean, okay. Roger that."

He disconnected the call and the first thing he did was try to call Walt's house, but he got a busy tone. Of course, he thought. He hurried to his car and as he sped from Durant towards Walt's property, he tried the radio in the hope of raising Walt.

"Come in, Walt."

He tried over and over, but no one responded. Little did he know that Tommy and Dr. Monaghan were listening in to his repeated calls. Donna was crying as Tommy drove erratically through the countryside. She was distraught wondering if Walt was alive. Her body trembled from shock and the cold as she sat, trying to cover her semi-naked self with her folded arms. She was scared. She knew Tommy. He was unstable. He had been a patient of hers for several years and he had become obsessed with her. He had previously made advances, but she had insisted on keeping their relationship professional. However, she was considering severing all ties as he made her life increasingly uncomfortable lately.

"Tommy, you need to turn back. Please. You can't just leave him there," she pleaded. "He'll die if he doesn't get some help."

Tommy just shrugged.

"I look good driving the Sherriff's truck, don't I? Maybe I could have become his deputy?"

"Tommy, are you listening to me? You shot Walt. He's going to bleed to death if he doesn't get help."

Tommy turned and glared at her. His eyes were cold. It was clear he didn't care.

Donna sighed. She wasn't getting through to him. All she could think of was Walt lying, bleeding, on the bedroom floor. She had grown closer than she had expected to him in the last few weeks. He was the sort of man who grew on you without you realising and Walt had definitely grown on her.

Meanwhile, Ferg called Vic from his car. He had the awful sense that something was very wrong. Why else would Walt call 911?

Vic was at home, mulling over her conversation with Walt earlier that afternoon. She had been trying to get her head around her feelings, but just felt frustrated. The sound of her ring tone snapped her back to reality. Ferg sounded panicked on the other end of the line. He quickly told her what had happened. Needless to say Vic was horrified beyond words and very concerned for her boss.

She was on her way to her truck when she got another call, this time from the hospital to report that Walker Browning had escaped from custody. That worried Vic even more. Was it possible that Browning had managed to get to Walt's cabin in the short time it took them to realize that he was gone? And if so. what did he do to Walt?

Eventually, after a nerve-wrecking journey, Ferg's Charger skidded to a halt outside Walt's cabin. The first thing he noticed was that the Walt's Bronco wasn't there. As he rushed up the steps to the cabin, he noticed the door was wide open and the lock was broken. He drew his weapon and took a cautious step inside. He was stopped in his tracks by what he saw.

Walt was lying on his right side; a pool of his own blood staining the wooden floor. There was too much blood, Ferg thought. He feared the worst. At that point, it hadn't crossed his mind to question why Walt had no shirt on and his jeans undone.

"Walt?" he said as he hesitantly approached the Sheriff.

There was no response. He noticed the phone on the floor. He knelt down and placed his fingers tentatively on Walt's carotid and held his breath.

To be continued.