[[ 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]

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."

[itwasjustified]

"It wasn't pretty."

A beat.

"But maybe I'm just too old for this shit."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"It ain't always a matter of age, it's how long you been doin' it," Bill replies, wrapping his hands around his mug.

"When'd you get your start?"

[itwasjustified]

"After I quit digging coal for a living. That was about twenty years ago."

It used to feel like another lifetime, before he was reassigned to Kentucky.

"What about you?"

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"Coal? Damn, way I hear it, that livin' is more dangerous than this one."

Bill doesn't blame Raylan for giving that up.

"I started straight outta high school. Went an' did the academy an' came home to be a deputy."

[itwasjustified]

"You take some good advice about your driving record while you were at it?"

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"Oh, I was real good about that. Used t'drive my friends up the wall when we-- "

Bill pauses as something clicks. A far and distant memory has been tripped and foggy details try to emerge.

Blinking a few times, Bill shifts on his chair, resting a forearm on the table and studying Raylan a bit closer.

"I was always a little obsessed with that. My mom used t'say I was set on bein' a traffic cop, way I'd fuss an' remind her about seat belts, an' turn signals, an' stuff like that."

[itwasjustified]

Raylan doesn't say anything.

But he does appear to be some measure of self-satisfied as he lifts his coffee.

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Bill keeps studying Raylan, that twitch at the corner of Raylan's mouth a little too close to smug for Bill to call it anything else.

It's then something clicks, the piece missing from that niggling memory.

"Say, where's your hat, marshal?"

[itwasjustified]

"Your guess is as good as mine," he says. "I don't even remember losing it out there."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"That's a damn shame. It was a nice hat."

Well here's a situation that's hard for Bill to wrap his head around. He thought it was difficult before, when he learned that Kate had met his younger self, but now it seems as if Raylan, a man he met in the future, actually had something to do with influencing Bill in the past.

It's a headache waiting to happen, so Bill decides the best thing is to leave it alone.

Fucking Milliways.

Frowning at the thought, Bill gets up from his chair again. Heading for the sink, he pours his coffee out.

"Hell. Even after everything I've seen an' been put through in the bar, I never thought somethin' like this could happen."

[itwasjustified]

Raylan pushes out a breath that's half a dust-dry chuckle.

"In the relatively short time I've been in and out of there, that place has shot my expectations to hell and then some."

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"Yeah, there's never really any gettin' used to it. That place is always pullin' somethin' new."

Is, not was, because Bill's gotta keep on hoping that this is just another thing that Milliways will be bouncing back from.

Pouring a glass of milk out for himself from the fridge to try and settle the burn in his belly, Bill glances at the backdoor again.

"Y'hungry? Kate'll be back soon a probably be askin'."

[itwasjustified]

"I'm all right for now," he says, "but thank you."

He feels like he's been dragged backward through a baler; coffee is about all he can stomach, for the moment.

[wheelsy_sheriff]

"Alright. I'm gonna go see 'bout gettin' cleaned up some. Got some clothes you can borrow if you want 'em, I reckon they ought to fit. Kate said she was gonna try washin' yours but-- "

Blood stains, and god knows what else Raylan was covered in when he got tossed through the door.

"Let me just catch a shave an' you can have the bathroom an' shower."

[itwasjustified]

"You're an officer and a gentleman, Bill," Raylan says, deadpan.

He's looking forward to a date with soap and hot water.

Bill exits the kitchen, and Raylan finishes his coffee.

After he rinses his mug, he heads back to the bedroom. If his sidearm made the trip through the Front Door, it has to be — 









Well.

Raylan blinks, standing just across the threshold.

He's right back where he started.

[wheelsy_sheriff]

Bill walks in a short time later, dressed in clean jeans and a button down, and drying his face with a hand towel.

"It's all yours, marshal."

Noticing the empty kitchen, Bill turns his head to look around.

"Raylan?"