tinstar | Slingin' from the hip, never the heart.

"You're the one that's holdin' the gun," Boyd points out reasonably.

"I'm the one with the badge too," Raylan retorts You wanna talk to me, fine but you don't do it by breakin' into my house, I don't care how often Arlo let you in."

"Crowder is a fine name, by the way," he continues as he starts walking forwards. Raylan moves back with him, left hand carefully steering Athena in time to keep her where she was behind his shoulder.

"Shame it's got a rap sheet about as long as the county attached to it, huh. Shit Boyd, you coulda been a highflyin' accountant or something," Raylan clucks.

"Best not let anyone else find out what you got with you, Raylan, whatever she is."

"Thanks for the warning. Now get off my porch."

Unfortunately for Boyd—unfortunately for all of them, really—the Crowder has touched a nerve. It’s only Raylan’s corralling her that keeps Athena behind him.

“I’m a whoever not a whatever you viagra-sucking limpdick wannabe untrimmed hedge.”

A sound behind them, back toward the driveway, jerks her attention in that direction. There’s another guy getting out of a new vehicle—another two guys, both of them giving off a very hired thug vibe. One of them has a shotgun. Instinctively, Athena reaches out and grabs a handful of Raylan’s flannel.

Edited 2022-02-12 21:21 (UTC)

Raylan wants to remind Athena where they are. But even if he did, he knew it wouldn't be taken the way he means it to. She's too young to understand that some things just aren't worth the battle or argument and no amount of either would change things in Harlan. But that whole idea was set onto the back burner at the sounds of a vehicle driving up, the sounds to two doors opening and closing. The telltale sound of a shotgun shell being loaded was what craned Raylan's neck around as he pushed them back and to the side, aiming to get the wide fields behind them rather than the men approaching.

"Boyd, what the hell?"

"I told you I needed to talk to ya, Raylan. You shoulda listened."

Raylan's face turns dangerous, eyes darkening to match the low warning in his voice.

"And you, lil' lady," Boyd continued. "I dunno how you did what you did. But you're gonna haveta be slicker than that for me to not peg you as somethin'. I dunno what yet." He wags a finger at her. "But I'll find out."

For a second, she's scared. For a second she's absolutely terrified.

Then, suddenly, she's not.

She's very, very angry.

"I don't fucking think so," Athena hisses. She steps around Raylan, taking in the locations of the two men approaching and Boyd's stupid position with his stupid face on the stupid porch.

And then she sings, with a deep-throated, belted out passion that Raylan hasn't heard from her before. She's never been this angry around him before. This angry with a familiar weapon at her fingertips.

"Young blood, run like a river
Young blood, never get chained
Young blood, heaven need a sinner
You can't raise hell with a saint
Young blood, came to start a riot
Don't care what your old man say
Young blood, heaven hate a sinner
But we gonna raise hell anyway."

It's instant chaos. The vehicles Boyd and his goons came in start to rust immediately, brown-red patches spidering out and thickening all over, connecting and spreading as the tires burst and the seats inside start to rot.

The shotgun suffers much the same fate, as do the weapons their antagonists yank out of hiding almost the moment they have them in hand.

Then their belt buckles go. Then the rest of the metal fastenings on whatever they're wearing. Their boots.

And then the cloth itself, and she's not sorry, not one fucking bit.

Not a thing that Raylan owns sees a scratch.

Raylan tries to stop her for a half second, but the way she tears away from his grasp was enough to make him take pause. Athena was different in that she could defend herself in ways that didn't involve needing a firearm or, really, worrying too much about one in front of her. It didn't stop his stomach from dropping out as she surged ahead or as she started singing.

He'd seen her flex her Gift, but he hadn't seen her flex it like this. In fact, he doesn't think he's ever heard her so angry, or sing so.. wholeheartedly.

Raylan can only stand there dumbly, watching as Boyd's jewelry, the pocket watch in his waistcoat, the belt buckle at his waist rusting away, but he manages an amazed huff of a half laugh as Boyd's clothes start to vanish.

"What the hell?!?" Boyd exclaims, franticly pressing hands over everything in a failed attempt to keep them there. When he looks back up, there's half a note of terror in his eyes. "How-"

"I suggest y'all start runnin'," Raylan darkly supplies from over Athena's shoulders. "I'd hate to see what she can do once you're in the nude, huh?"

Boyd wasn't going to take that advice lightly and backed up a few steps before scrambling off the porch with a few frantic gestures at his men. "RUN, GO GO GO."

Raylan steps past Athena and off the porch to watch, head tilting to the side as his features lift in amusement. "Never thought I'd be so happy to see a naked ass in my life," he says quietly before looking over at Athena.

"Good job. You okay?"

Athena lets go of the Gift, finishing the last notes of the chorus without using her abilities before she stops singing.

Then she sits down on the porch steps, staring after the retreating, naked guys who were clearly going to hurt Raylan whether he listened to them or not.

"What?" She feels slightly dazed when she looks at him. Shakes herself out of it, parses what he said. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Uh... I think I lost my temper."

Edited 2022-02-20 02:02 (UTC)

There was no doubt in Raylan's mind that they'd come back. He'd have to hunt down Boyd tomorrow before the man could get too much fanatic ground underneath him; he could almost hear the scriptures about dealing with the devil now.

Raylan slides his piece back into his holster and moves to sit beside her with a heavy sigh, elbows propped on his knees as he looks over at her.

"You've gotta be careful with those. Tempers." He should know. "But you didn't harm 'em and that's what's important... Sure as hell a step up from blowin' up all the mugs in the house, huh." His lips curl softly, trying to let her know that he's not mad at her or scared of her, though maybe a reasonable person might be. He'd seen too much with her to be either of those things.

She’s scared to look at him, even though his tone hasn’t changed.

Then he makes the crack about the mugs and it surprises her into looking up. Seeing his expression without judgement, his tiny smile.

Athena shifts enough to press her face against his shoulder and grab on to him loosely with both hands.

“Guess I just. Got fucking sick of being scared,” she mumbles.

Edited 2022-02-20 18:17 (UTC)

With a little shift, Raylan lifted his arm, making room for her to tuck right under it so he could hug her properly if she would take it.

"One of these days, we're gonna find you a place where you can work on bein' sick of being disgustingly happy. I'm sorry that it won't be here.. No one oughta be raised in Harlan so.. I'll try to make your stay here as short as possible, I promise."

That was the only promise that he could make and keep. Keeping his promises to Athena were a paramount importance.

She settles against him, comforted by how solid and calm he is.

"Those guys are totally coming back, huh."

"They might, but not tonight," he assures softly with a short rub of his hand on her shoulder. "And if they come back tomorrow or the day after, we'll be ready for them. They ain't gonna rile up a mob, if that's something that you worry about. There aren't enough people that would believe that. Not here."

That does relax her a little bit, the fact that people won't mob up with Boyd and storm Raylan's house.

She chews her lip for a second, catching a bit of loose skin in her teeth and wincing. "Do you think he'll want to kill me or catch me more?"

"Oh catch, definitely. Boyd likes a show, and with everyone tellin' him that he's crazy with what he'll say, he'll look to turn it into a circus act, see if he can't pull in a profit off you before he comes around to killin' anyone."

Raylan looks down at her. He'd been knowing and chasing Boyd for too many years to not know what the man was going to do next. "I'm not gonna let that happen either, Athena. Not the catchin' or anything else. You're not somethin' to be shoved into a room and stared at like someone's at the zoo."

She scowls. "If he thinks he can control me for shit he has another thing coming."

The scowl fades a little as Raylan talks. She looks up at him sidelong, something really starting to register for the first time.

"I'm the only one with the Gift here," Athena says quietly. There's shock in her tone. A fresh new wave for a fresh new reason. "I'm literally the only person in the world with the Gift. Fuck."

Raylan huffed a smile. Boyd certainty did have another thing coming if he thought Athena would come quietly in the night or something and she'd done plenty tonight to prove it. But his expression sobered as she stared at him and even more as she came around to a conclusion he already knew.

He nods softly. "Unless Jeff shows up.. Yeah, darlin'. You are." His hand tightened on her. "At least as far as the wide world knows. I'm so sorry, 'Thena. You shouldn't have been dropped here.. Not.. not here." He took a deep breath, caving to the impulse to press a kiss into her hair.

"You're not alone. I know I'm.. You're not alone."

She presses her face against him, the way she would have in Mathias. The was she would if he were Jeff. Except he's not, he's Raylan, and she loves him, but a horrible, selfish part of her wishes that it was Jeff sitting with her right now instead.

"I'd rather be with you than someone else, if I have to be somewhere where no one knows about the Gift," she mumbles.

I know I'm not Jeff. He couldn't say it out loud, not fully, but he couldn't blame her if that's how she felt. Raylan had already stolen his face, as it were.

His other arm came around to hug her properly.

"I'm so sorry, honey. Maybe I'm wrong and they're.. just not Out yet. Maybe they think they're the only one too. Don't give up that hope... Why.. why don't we get the groceries in and get settled for the night, huh? I know it's weird to.. go back to the evenin' like nothin' happened but we can't linger in this moment too long. Ain't healthy to stop movin' like that."

He rubs his thumb across her shoulder. "It'll be alright. Somehow."

“I’ll be okay,” she says softly. She drags in a deep breath and straightens up. He’s right, about the dangers of staying still too long when there’s so much emotion hanging in the air. It’s a panicked smothering waiting to happen.

Athena helps him bring in the groceries, puts things away, showers and changes into properly clean new-old pajamas before returning to the kitchen. “How do you brine chicken anyway? I want to learn so I can impress and confuse Aunt Nory with my culinary acumen.”

He feels better in the kitchen, the ugliness of the porch left there with the other bullet holes and damage that the house had suffered. The simple work of feeding himself, of feeding Athena, was it's own comfort. One foot in front of the other, right?

Raylan chuckles at the statement following the question, lifting his eyebrows with a bob of his head as he starts peeling the plastic off the pack of chicken and dropping the pieces into a bowl.

"You ever heard of briney water? It just means heavily salted, so brining is soaking meat in heavily salted water. Salt and some spices if you want your meat to taste like your breading. Always use the same spices in your flour that you do your brine, so it'll all taste the same. Your Aunt Nory used to cook for you? What was your favorite dish?"

Athena snorts. “God no, Nory can’t cook for shit. Except for spaghetti. She does make killer spaghetti.”

She peers into the bowl. “What kind of spices do you use?”

"Cayanne.. Lawry's - It's a seasoning salt that does the salting work," he explains as he grabs the spice containers to do just that, dumping more than might seem strictly necessary.

"Don't ask me for amounts, I eyeball everythin'. You're gonna help me fry it, right? It's mostly waitin' anyway. Fried chicken is the easiest thing in the world, if I'm honest. Just takes time."

“Hell yeah, bring on the teenage recklessness and boiling oil.”

She ticks herself up under his arm as soon as he’s not using both hands, studying the amounts of spices like that will help her remember what to use next time. “And hey easy isn’t easy when it comes to stuff like this, you know? Have to get the timing right and all that.”

Raylan chuckles as he finishes, popping the clear glass lid on the pot. Once he wiped his hands, he found himself with an adorable growth and squeezed a hand around her shoulder before draping it there.

"Just long enough for a TV movie and a bowl of cereal to tide you over until then." Or to tide him over, to be honest. "Only place where timin' matters is the pre-heatin' time for the oil and how long they cook. Can't be eatin' raw chicken. C'mon," he says, turning her and tugging her towards the living room. "Let's find somethin' to watch on this shitty tv. I could use the noise and the meat needs the time to brine. From 2 hours to 24, if you can manage it. 24's better, really. Gets into all the fibers. It's science, really."

Athena keeps up a commentary on what they watch practically until she falls asleep sitting on the couch, snuggling in against Raylan and pretending to be unconscious. She lets him move her to the mattress like she's a ten year old who's properly asleep instead of a nearly-eighteen-year-old who's faking it.

It doesn't take long for her to actually fall asleep after that, though.

She wakes up earlier than she wants to at the sound of the front door opening. Athena scrambles to her feet, not sure what she's on the alert for but knowing there's something.

...It's Raylan. Raylan, going somewhere, with car keys in his hand.

She stares for a second, then gives an affronted, "What the fuck?"

The fact that she was here still blew his mind; the fact that she trusted him enough to curl up against him like a cat that wanted his heat blew his mind and how goddamned sweet it was tugged at his heartstrings as he posited her into the matress he'd given up on thinking would be moved any time soon. It was a good thing the couch was comfortable and doubly so that he had no problem sleeping fully dressed.

But he didn't really ever sleep long when he wasn't in bed and comfortable, and 6 AM was an easy hour when it felt like you hadn't really slept at all.

He really had been thinking that he was silent enough to get by - there was three notes strewn along the kitchen, in hopeful estimates of where she might look first come sunrise, but the start of sound from behind him and the obvious question had him wincing as he stops and turning around in the door.

"Was hopin' to let you sleep in. You need it," he explains with a soft little smile.

While that was true, it was far from the whole truth.

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