Raylan Givens (
itwasjustified) wrote2012-03-01 01:33 pm
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[[ oom : wheelsy, south carolina ]]
[ "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.
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.
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"When'd you get your start?"
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It used to feel like another lifetime, before he was reassigned to Kentucky.
"What about you?"
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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."
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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."
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But he does appear to be some measure of self-satisfied as he lifts his coffee.
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It's then something clicks, the piece missing from that niggling memory.
"Say, where's your hat, marshal?"
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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."
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"In the relatively short time I've been in and out of there, that place has shot my expectations to hell and then some."
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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'."
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He feels like he's been dragged backward through a baler; coffee is about all he can stomach, for the moment.
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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."
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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.
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"It's all yours, marshal."
Noticing the empty kitchen, Bill turns his head to look around.
"Raylan?"
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"Hey, sheriff," she says, placing this week's freshly delivered newspaper on the counter.
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Returning to the kitchen as Kate arrives, he glances past Kate towards the door she's just closed.
"Raylan outside?"
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"Didn't see him," she says, with a small shake of her head. "He's probably sleeping in."
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"No, he was up. I left him right here an' he disappeared."
What the hell is going on?
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The rest of the house is silent and still; she's sure Raylan decided to take advantage of some more sleep.
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But where did he go?
"I was in the back gettin' changed an' cleaned up, an' now he ain't here."
An idea hits, and he looks at her.
"What'd you do with his boots an' stuff?"
Surely Raylan wouldn't have gone anywhere without at least his footwear and gun.
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"I put everything in the spare bedroom."
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"Hell."
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"Well, it's not like he just — "
She pauses near the threshold, and glances down the hallway.
"You think maybe the bar picked him back up?"
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Bill worries, though, whether or not the door actually took Raylan back to Milliways, or if it dumped him somewhere else.
Or the state of the bar if Raylan gets there.
"I'll keep tryin', see if I can't get back there."
He looks at Kate in the doorway.
"Just be careful goin' through doorways for awhile. Don't know what all is goin' on right now." And he doesn't want Kate to get picked up into the unknown.
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