Slingin' from the hip, never the heart. | Open Post

[tinstar]

Raylan's job took him everywhere, from Harlan to Los Angeles to Paris. The Marshals service was demanding but Raylan leaned into the work, traveling as needed to get to get his man.

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[tinstar]

Someone was going to end up dead at this rate and Collins has pushed Raylan to bare survivalism, a million miles away from reason and whatever connection he was hoping to make.

Raylan bashes his hand down on Collin's elbow and uses the angle that it puts his hand to try and jam the point of the wood into the tender flesh just below Collins jawline. He wasn't looking to spear the man but if there was a little blood, he wouldn't mind.

[onlyhearmusic]

He cried out, muffled and quiet from his own need to keep control, but clearly in pain from the strike to his elbow. His opposite hand came up to gain control of Raylan's before-

He froze with the sharp point of the wood in his neck, fingertips barely brushing against the lawman's wrist. It was a risk and he hesitated to act on it. Maybe he wasn't ready to die (again) just yet after all.

"Do it," he hissed. "Finish it."

[tinstar]

"I oughta," he snarls again, hair just as wild as his eyes. There shouldn't be any doubt in his willingness to do it but he wasn't gonna be just stuck to a fucking chair after it was over.

"Untie what you can reach. Now."

[onlyhearmusic]

Collins was still instead even after the command. If he waited long enough maybe Givens would do it out of frustration. He could go out in defiance instead of obeying like a good dog. It seemed reasonable to him.

The train of thought didn't hold for long against the weight of time. He wasn't suicidal no matter how much he talked about death like he was in love with the concept. His hand moved slowly at first until it hit the ropes and then automation kicked in, and he untied the knots around Givens's wrist, the other on the chair arm that was still intact.

[tinstar]

As soon as his off hand is free, he's using it to untie his other hand free of it's unmoveable grip from the bit of wood he was using as a weapon. He couldn't help the talking out loud that followed, the first burst of actual free speech that didn't directly shoulder the responsibility of keeping him alive. Collins has already heard him in various levels of pissed off, but the venomous one sided conversation that followed was with a noticeably heavier Southern accent, things rounded and stretched out while others were cut short. Honestly, words got out faster this way somehow.

"Gave you so many goddamn doors; you stubborn jackass of a man - 'told you no' my ass. A soft touch of pushback and you swing back into insanity and try to tell me that I said no, like what - like your feelin's are more important than my drawin' air? And you want a connection," he scoffs in condemnation, swapping his improvised spear holding hand so that he could reach down and work on freeing one of his legs, eyes staying locked on Collins, the half mutter of true thoughts tumbling out of his mouth.

"Come here to kill me because I somehow made you feel a thing; don't tell me I popped your fuckin' cherry because you knew what you were doin'. Gotta be joking."

[onlyhearmusic]

"No, I want it gone," he snarled at Raylan but he was brought up short by the threat to his throat. Otherwise, the tension that surged through his body most assuredly would have meant him retaliating with physical violence. All he had instead were words so he glared angrily at the lawman and growled at him.

"None of this bullshite. Shoulda killed you and gotten rid of the only person who knows I even exist in this world. Back to business." He lifted his head, pressing the piece of wood so far into his flesh that it bit in and he bled. "Don't act like you care about everyone you fuck, bull. Ain't hard ta charm and get back on tha road tha next day. Certainly ya know that."

[tinstar]

"Or you coulda left me the fuck alone and done that anyway, so what the hell are you doin' here in the first place," Raylan snaps back, face close like if he had half a mind, he could bite Collins nose off, leaning into the press of his makeshift weapon, heartless about the blood that was getting split now.

"Makin' it my goddamn responsibility somehow; I left to get away from this kinda bullshit. You sure you didn't garrote the Admiral, skip out through a portal? Standards must be slippin'. Now here's what's gonna happen," he continues, one leg successfully free.

"I'mma roll over on top of you and you're gonna work open these knots on the back. And don't presume to tell me shit about anythin' I feel - so wrapped up in how big and bad you think you are to consider anyone else." He didn't ask permission, just rolled over, mounting the awkward angle Collin's body lay in and not moving his makeshift stake in the slightest.