"Pffuh. It's just your everyday kidnapping, possibly trafficking depending on what they're after." Nothing too strange about that, apparently. Maybe it would make things a little easier knowing what they want, why they have been put here. It's the question that many people have been asking, after all. But hey. If there isn't going to be an easy road back, maybe it's better that it's two lone wolves chewing out their cowboy hats than the people they know.
"Mm, that would be her. We did get her, in the end. Took care of her without getting myself killed in the process." They're... linked? It's complicated. And Doc isn't going to get into the details. He doesn't even know the full details of it himself.
"They haven't... hm... I mean no one's managed it yet. And I don't think it ends, after that." That would be too simple. It's perhaps worse than the fate of being trapped alone in the dark, just having to watch them all die. He has grown quite fond to the girls.
"Honestly Raylan I don't know it's going to work. I'm not just a bartender. We are violent people in a violent place doing violent things, and I know it. It just- ain't what anyone deserves." This isn't worrying about your baby's first steps or their first day of school or their first date or the first time they put their foot down on the gas pedal. This is going to be Doc and Wynonna arguing over why they should or shouldn't be putting a gun in a hand too small with a thumb too short to reach the hammer and this constant need to protect someone, not being able to let go or even let them out of their sight for half a second, always fearing the worst.
Underneath all that is what Doc doesn't want to say, about Earps, Hollidays, and Givenses, but that Raylan will understand precisely because he doesn't want to say it out loud. They are who they are because of the luck of the draw, and because they are who their violent worlds need them to be in order to survive. There are enough cold and hard people in this world, and if he can help it he doesn't want anyone else to turn out like himself. Or Wynonna. Or Raylan.
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"Mm, that would be her. We did get her, in the end. Took care of her without getting myself killed in the process." They're... linked? It's complicated. And Doc isn't going to get into the details. He doesn't even know the full details of it himself.
"They haven't... hm... I mean no one's managed it yet. And I don't think it ends, after that." That would be too simple. It's perhaps worse than the fate of being trapped alone in the dark, just having to watch them all die. He has grown quite fond to the girls.
"Honestly Raylan I don't know it's going to work. I'm not just a bartender. We are violent people in a violent place doing violent things, and I know it. It just- ain't what anyone deserves." This isn't worrying about your baby's first steps or their first day of school or their first date or the first time they put their foot down on the gas pedal. This is going to be Doc and Wynonna arguing over why they should or shouldn't be putting a gun in a hand too small with a thumb too short to reach the hammer and this constant need to protect someone, not being able to let go or even let them out of their sight for half a second, always fearing the worst.
Underneath all that is what Doc doesn't want to say, about Earps, Hollidays, and Givenses, but that Raylan will understand precisely because he doesn't want to say it out loud. They are who they are because of the luck of the draw, and because they are who their violent worlds need them to be in order to survive. There are enough cold and hard people in this world, and if he can help it he doesn't want anyone else to turn out like himself. Or Wynonna. Or Raylan.