[[ oom : wheelsy, south carolina ]]

[itwasjustified]

[ "I really need you to tell me exactly what the hell is goin' on." ]



Raylan wakes in a vacuum.

He lets his eyes adjust to the darkness, and takes silent stock of himself.

He's in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room. These sweats aren't his. His head feels like a bag of cotton balls left to dry-rot in Death Valley, and the rest of him is hardly any better.

He has no idea where his boots are, let alone his gun.

He gets up, keeping his movements slow and quiet, but the bed creaks in spite of his efforts.

A few long minutes later, he limps out of the bedroom, and shuffles toward the unmistakable smell of coffee.

Comments

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Bill is sitting at the kitchen table with his second cup of coffee and last week's Wheelsy Register.

Today should be a day he gets to sleep in, but instead he beat Kate out of bed this morning after a rather unrestful night.

Lifting his head when Raylan wanders in, Bill sets aside the paper and looks Raylan over.

"Mornin', marshal, how you feelin'?"

[itwasjustified]

"Never better," he says, stifling a wince.

He reaches the coffee pot, and tips his head toward the cup sitting beside it.

"May I?"

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"'Course," Bill nods, "Kate set out some Tylenol there for you, too, incase you needed it."

Bill takes a sip of his own coffee, and nods at the counter.

[itwasjustified]

"Thank you."

Coffee and Tylenol in hand, he makes his way to the table, and sits down like an arthritic 80-year-old.

"I appreciate it," he says, thumbing the cap on the Tylenol.

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"No problem."

Bill scratches at the stubble on his chin he hasn't bothered to take care of yet, and gives a small chuckle.

"I tell Kate she outta think about becomin' a nurse, she's got plenty of practice at it."

[itwasjustified]

Raylan washes down two pills with a mouthful of coffee, and nods.

"Looks like maybe she did a pretty good number on me," he says, one hand going to his side for emphasis. "I'll have to tell Doc he's got himself some competition."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"So you were talkin' about Doc," Bill says, lowering his hand to the table.

"Scurlock, right?"

His eyes flick to the back door, and he wonders if he should wait for Kate for this; knowing she's anxious to hear what's going on in Milliways, too.

[itwasjustified]

"Yeah. He helped set up a triage — a lot of folks needed medical attention."

He takes another sip from his steaming mug, the coffee settling low and deep in his empty stomach.

"It was ... "

He shakes his head.

"Like nothing I've ever seen. I don't know if the place is still standing."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

None of this sounds good.

Triage, people hurt--

Bill's thoughts immediately go to everyone he knows in Milliways; Doc, Nathan, Will, Boo--

"Christ, Raylan, what the hell happened?"

[itwasjustified]

"I wish I could say for sure."

In the midst of so much confusion and pandemonium, it had been tough to tell where individual pockets of trouble began and ended, let alone the how and the why.

"There was an earthquake, and an evacuation — everybody was encouraged to leave if they could, and hop in the Lost and Found box if they couldn't. Magic started going haywire, and there were monsters and demons everywhere."

He frowns, mostly to himself.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but any bad thing you can imagine, it was happening."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Bill could imagine a lot, he'd seen a lot, in Milliways and here in Wheelsy.

What Raylan's describing, though...

"How many people made it out? Doc?"

[itwasjustified]

"I don't know."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

The color runs from Bill's features, and he feels cold cement settle in the bottom of his belly.

He shakes his head and stares at the table top, trying to process what Raylan's saying.

"Me an' Kate, we tried openin' the door, but couldn't-- "

How the hell could this happen? Bill's been through some rough times in Milliways, but the thing about the bar was, it always managed to fix itself in the end.

"How'd you end up here?"

[itwasjustified]

"I wish I could tell you more, Bill, but it was — goddamn, it was a nightmare come to life."

He scrubs at the back of his neck, looking more tired than ever.

"Best I can figure, the door got shot to hell. I know there was another big tremor that rocked the whole bar, and I got knocked for a loop."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Bill's frown deepens, and he shifts on his chair.

"You mentioned yesterday that Jack was with you. I checked, but there weren't any other reports in town. No one else turned up."

So if Jack was with Raylan Bill has no idea if he made it out, or where Jack landed if he did.

There's only one possibility for Raylan's arrival here that comes to Bill's mind, and it's got doubtful written all over it.

"When are you from, Raylan? I know Kentucky, but... it's 2009 here, an' I ain't ever met anyone in the bar that was from my world."

[itwasjustified]

"Well, shit," he says, voice so low, it's barely a whisper.

"It's 2010."

This is something straight out of The Twilight Zone.

Fuck.

His head hurts.

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Again Bill's eyes flick to the back door, and he clears his throat quietly.

"Kate's in the same boat. She's from L.A., 2005. If the-- " bar is gone "if the door ain't workin', I got no way of gettin' either of you back."

The cement in his gut starts to harden, and Bill's right there with Raylan and a headache.

[itwasjustified]

Raylan squashes his own uneasiness, hammering it somewhere it can't cause true panic.

He glances around the kitchen, and toward the back door.

"Is she around this morning?"

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"She's out for a run, outta be back soon."

Bill stands up from the table, using movement to try and rein in his own troubled feelings about all of this.

Taking his mug to the counter, he refills his coffee.

"She said she wasn't goin' far today, but a few miles ain't nothin' to her, so I dunno how far ain't far."

He gives a small short chuckle, and adds sugar to his cup.

[itwasjustified]

"Uh-oh," Raylan says, pulling a slight face. "She's one of those, huh."

He knows the type: healthful and way too enthusiastic when it comes to jogging.

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"Yep." Bill chuckles, tapping his spoon on the side of his cup and setting it on the counter.

Returning to his seat, Bill sits with a sigh.

"Makes the rest of us look bad."

[itwasjustified]

Raylan directs a brief, knowing half-smile into his coffee cup, and takes another drink.

Cradling the warm ceramic in his scraped hands, his expression grows grave.

"I don't want to cause either of you any undue worry with this kind of news," he says, "but I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it was a serious situation."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Bill's own expression shifts, and he gives a slow nod.

"In a way I guess it's good... hearin' the news. Without you here we wouldn't know what was goin' on, just that the door ain't workin'."

He takes a sip of coffee, and his stomach grinds in protest.

"It still ends up bein' a waitin', game, though. I've seen Milliways recover from a lot, hopefully the place will manage this."

[itwasjustified]

"Hopefully."

A beat.

"That's no offense to 2009, or you and Kate. I thank both of you for the hospitality."

Not to mention how Bill dug Raylan out of Mrs. Freeda's yard.

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Bill waves him off and shakes his head.

"You're welcome as long as you need a place."

Which Bill also hopes isn't long, with no offense to Raylan.

"If nothin' else, bein' here will give you a chance t'rest up. Whatever went on must've been rough."