James closes his eyes a moment to take another steadying breath as Raylan calls him a good man, and tries to encourage him his head and heart are in the right place for it. He squeezes his hand a little more, letting the gentle brush of his thumb soothe his ache. He sighs.
"I don't think these things, the ideas can come from me. I don't have enough sway or respect for anyone to hear me. I've done nothing to earn it." Except for the few that respected him for what he did on the Galley but even then...
"I know I'm not the only one who has tried or the only one who thinks what I have said but when it came down to it... all I heard are the echoing voices of opposition and accusation." He lifts Raylan's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles.
"I just want peace in the end. I want to feel less useless to protect what I care about." He flicks his eye up to Raylan.
"And perhaps both of us should do better with communicating with one another."
Practically speaking, that was very likely true and it was an uncomfortable place to be. James wasn't the only one that got sucked into that trap; Raylan does more often than not and it's a hard pill to swallow.
"Maybe not right now. But we got nothin' but time, and all situations change. You'll find a more successful way to make the argument. Find folks willin' to join you on that side of it. Willing to have the debate in good faith. I'm just afraid it's gonna take another Barge wide attack of some kind. We've had a few good ones. A 'healthy' one, I suppose we could call those weird ass wounds. Kinda worried we're due another ugly one just to even it all out..
He looks over then.
"I've been.. trying to shield you from my bullshit. Better to see if I can get away with it without you findin' out and losin' your mind in rage or worry. There's-" He takes a deep breath, searching his lovers face. "There's gonna be times and places for us to protect each other, but me goin' out with my temper under me isn't somethin' that.. that needs protectin' from. I haven't lost my temper like that more than a few times here. It's not pretty.. And its the only time a little bit of who and what I really am gets to take a breath.. I'm a Marshal for a reason.. My file's as big as it is for a reason. The system protects me in the long run and if I die again, it's gonna be because I've gotten slow, possessed, or out-thought. I'm not scared of it, dyin'. And I think you are."
It was understandable, but James wanted raw honesty and Raylan trusted him enough to try it out. Communication, right?
"That's a bit unfair, isn't it? You and Jedao were attaching yourself to me because of my temper. But I'm meant to ignore yours? Do you think you're protected in this system? I don't actually have anything to lose as you do. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I let you go out there half-cocked and pissed off and you did something that got you demoted. You think you've got it all under control, but then admit to me you don't think when your temper gets the best of you, just like any of us. I'm your partner, Raylan, but you don't... you can't seem to rely on me to help you. It's not just about protecting you, your deal matters to me too. Willa matters to me."
He frowns, brow furrowed as he stares at their hands. "I don't fear death for myself. I do fear that there are limits to bringing you back. That something might happen to fuck it all up. What if you don't come back?"
"Why wouldn't I? The whole mechanic has been tested again and again by folks here. Wardens, inmates. Wardens who die and then become inmates. You died. I died. And my temper doesn't usually end with someone dead." Just lightly battered, possibly shot, it's fine.
"I coulda shot Izzy. For havin' his blade against my throat. But I didn't, because of Willa. You-" He stops and licks his lips.
"You're used to having people. Having people watch your back and help you. The navy, your crew, Miranda. I've lived my entire life relying on myself alone. The Marshal's service will come in now and then but largely.. I've learned how to do it, how to keep myself out of the worst of trouble, and believe it or not, I'm good at it. Gotten myself outta more dangerous situations than the Barge has put us in with no mechanic to lean back on to bring me back to life.. That experience, those skills, have to matter otherwise what- I've just been lucky my whole life?" He shakes his head a little.
"Feels dismissive to categorize it like that. And I know, just because I've been doin' it on my own my whole live doesn't mean that I can't share any of it but--" He sighs out, jaw tensing a little. "I keep it in line for so long. It feels like a primal right to be able to have that emotion now and then without gettin' shit on for feeling a Thing. I can handle everyone else havin' an opinion on it. Their opinion doesn't matter. But I can't share my temper like that. If I need help, when I need help, I promise I will say somethin' to you. But when I don't, when I just want to go and do my job for a few minutes, the way I've been doing it for over twenty years.."
"You know that's why Winona left me, right? Because I was dedicated to my job and doin' it the way I've always been doin' it. She got tired of bein' worried about if I was gonna come home. I don't blame her but.. I always came home."
"Just because it hasn't failed doesn't mean it never will. And do you really think nothing can ever go wrong? I'm glad you are strong and confident in your skills, but you aren't perfect, Raylan. Anything can happen. I'm not questioning your skills, I'm not doubting you, that's not what any of this means. You just can't assume you will always be in control, that you will always come out fine, life doesn't work like that. You would be a fool to think you will get it right 100% of the time." His one good eye is pleading.
"And just because you've been so self-sufficient all your life doesn't mean you always have to be. You have me. I want you to be able to rely on me. I'm not asking you to take me along on everything you do, I just... I just want to know about it. I just want you to be able to tell me when you're heading out to confront someone, or I don't know, I just want to know what you have a mind to do. I don't want you hiding anything from me. You need to trust me to trust you. Trust me that I'll listen to you when you say you'll handle something and not get in your way. And trust that I trust in you to take care and not do something stupid. At least then, I'll be here, waiting for you when you come home to welcome you with a drink or something to clean your wounds. Or I can be there when you call for me and want me by your side."
He shakes his head, "I just can't stand the fact that you feel like you need to hide anything from me. As if I can't handle your anger, after all the shit I've put you through. I just... I want to be here, I just want to know and be a part of it even if I'm not there with you on whatever mission you're on. Don't count me out so easily. I can handle it. I can handle you. All of you."
It had failed, twice. He'd been shot before for his over-confidence. But that didn't make any of James's points wrong, in any way.
Trust me that I'll listen to you when you say you'll handle something and not get in your way. And trust that I trust in you to take care and not do something stupid. That stuck out to him, struck a cord in him. That worry was another big reason that he wasn't overly inclined to open his mouth. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.
Raylan tightens their hands, staring at them as his lips tighten, working and then, letting go. James was asking for the ugliest side of him. All of him? Even he didn't want to handle all of himself. It was the Moon.
"Nothin' much good about all of me," he says quietly, before inhaling and looking over. "But all I can promise to do is try. I want to trust you like that." Even if nothing in his genetic code suggested he should. The last two times he had found out anything, James had lost it. Earned a shadow, blew up the network. But he honestly believed what James was saying. He had to hope James believed it too. That he could have that control.
"And I understand that if I want you to trust me the same way, I have to. And I do want that. Behind my own door is the only place I have to.. feel.. I dunno, secure enough to say half the shit I do anyway." His real, raw opinions. "Everyone out there.."
He shook his head a little, eyebrows lifting as he lifts his free hand to scrub at his face. "You weren't alone in havin' hard and or frustratin' conversations today, I'll say that."
A lot of things would've gone differently if they'd talked beforehand, especially now. If Raylan had told him what he was going out to do about Izzy, if Flint had told Raylan about any of his feelings first before posting. It would've gone differently, maybe better for both of them, if they'd just understood what was going on in the other's head.
"Nothing much good about all of me either, but that's not the point, is it? We love and support each other anyway, through thick and thin, through the best and the worst parts. The point is we stay and we endure and we heal each other no matter what." He reaches out with his free hand to cup his face and brushes his thumb over his cheek.
"I'm not Winona or Tim, I mean what I said, you have all of me, for as long as you'll have me, or want me to be here." He just hopes Raylan can give him every part of him eventually, even the ugly parts.
"I'll say it again and again, as many times as you need to hear it. I would love nothing more than for you to feel like you can trust me and give me the same. But I understand it's something that might take time. I'll be here and I want the chance to prove to you I will remain here no matter what. That you can trust me. That you can trust IN me." He leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth.
He is trying desperately to control his temper and to give Raylan a reason to trust him. There are a lot of things they are learning and trying to correct in themselves together, after years of abuse and neglect and toxic, terrible situations. It'll take time, but he needs Raylan to know he's willing to see it all through and see every part of it.
Raylan's dark eyed, serious gaze was easily diverted back to James under that warm, rough hand, softening around the edges with a flicker over James's face at the sharp assertion that he wasn't Winona or Tim. Raylan couldn't run from that, not here, not when it was the exact thing he couldn't help but worry about. Another thing that he had tried to avoid because speaking about it gave James the power to hurt him deeper by knowing how it would effect him.
James was also clearing some easily assumable hurtles; Raylan would need to hear it again, would need it proven in reality before those deepest corners would consider that the universe would really give him that.
Raylan's lips purse in return, automatically kissing James back and following to capture his lips properly, in a firm but chaste kiss, a silent 'thank you' and 'I love you' all wrapped in one. Now would be a terrible time to purpose, wouldn't it? He didn't even have a ring.
"Starting today," he continues once it breaks. "More open communication. Because I never want you to leave darlin', that ones easy as breathing." He kisses James again before lifting their hands to kiss James's knuckles.
"Even if one of us has to step out to get a little drunk now and then."
It wasn't his desire to hurt Raylan or twist the knife to manipulate him. Winona had done so much damage to Raylan and undoing those built-in defenses, and healing those scars would take time. He's more and more frustrated with both Winona and Tim for the damage he sees. Heaven forbid he ever see either of them again, he would rip them both a new asshole. Or, at the very least, Winona, Tim wouldn't really know what he'd done, he likely wouldn't remember his time on the Barge.
That would have to be one more thing they'd have to work on, the idea that Raylan is guarded because he assumes someone who loves him will only want to use his vulnerabilities to hurt him in some way. To build up black-mail, or whatever else. That toxic poison that Winona had put into him so deep in his veins that now he assumes it of everyone who loves him. Though he knows his father's abuse has some to do with it, there was a long, deep foundation built because of his Father, but Winona added a million blades and a thousand papercuts to an already painful trauma. Flint's slowly finding more, being allowed to see those hurts, but they run deep and it'll take time to break those poisonous quills from Raylan's skin. He's determined to find and heal every single one that he can. But he can't know about them without seeing it and putting together the pieces, or for Raylan to feel comfortable enough to admit it.
He kisses the other softly in return, feeling the warmth and press of those silent words. If Raylan had proposed to him he wouldn't have cared if there was a ring or not, they had their necklaces, and rings could come later. Those words are bouncing around behind his teeth and tongue. Perhaps it was too soon...
There's a nod of agreement and another gentle kiss, eye focused completely on Raylan. "Or get into a little fistfight, hm? As long as I know what to prepare for when you get back. I want to be here to give you whatever you'll need."
He just wants to be informed and present and prepared.
There were some very good, very practical reasons that Raylan was built the way he was. James was doing well in finding them and proving that Raylan could trust him with trying to navigate them. He couldn't help the way he was, but he was willing to try. Willing to evolve. James was worth that, and so much more.
Love was always worth it.
He nods again. "Okay. Can't promise that it won't be a text afterwards but.. I can let you know."
He takes a deep breath, eyes still on James's face.
"So we're okay? I want bein' with me a thing that makes you more okay, not more frustrated. And gettin' reamed by half the manifest is a lot. I don't want you thinkin' that I aim to pile on with them." He wanted their home to be the same kind of secure place that he himself needed.
James's hand has come to rest lightly at the side of Raylan's neck, to which he'll scoot in a little closer and wrap his arm around the Marshal's shoulders so he can pull him in and kiss his temple.
"We're okay." He squeezes his hand, which they can't seem to let go of one another.
"You're allowed to have different opinions, so if you are upset with anything I said I do want to know. I don't mean to make things more awkward or frustrating either. But I also want you to feel like you can be honest with me in all things."
Raylan lets himself be pulled in and lets himself take the comfort of it all that James was offering, without any hesitation or reservation. The deepest parts of him were already pointing an accusatory finger, crying weakness at him daring to take it. He focused harder on their entwined fingers and how much he believed what he was being told. His gut believed it.
"I'm not upset. Disagreein' with people I love is something I've been doin' for a long time." It didn't make him love them, or James, any less. "I don't agree with your purposal, by and large. But I understand where the root of the argument is comin' from. Where the issue lies. Because you're right. We get what, at least two or three killin's a month if not more? If not en mass? I also don't have a counter offer to put on the table next to my disagreement. So sayin' nothin' is generally the wiser choice... Especially to everyone else. I can't have them thinkin' that I'm not next to you. My conversations get exponentially harder when they start poking around to see if I'm on the side of that kinda punishment. To see if they can pass judgement on both of us at the same time, ammo for them to gain the high ground on us later."
He shakes his head a little. "Just a lotta attention I wasn't expecting to have to field."
Prior to this, he wasn't ready to hear Raylan's disagreement, but he was also expecting worse. And he was only expecting the worst because of how he'd expected better of the people that did reply. His post was a lot more chaotic and negative than he'd had expected it to be, more people responded to his anger than they did to his actual ideas.
Now he was ready to hear it and he casts his eyes down to their still interwoven hands.
"I never intended to bring so much attention down on you, but I also didn't realize you didn't talk to Kiryu, I thought for sure you would have..." He didn't realize how much it bothered Raylan, what happened to Roman.
"But I also hope they don't think you should be collaring and silencing me when I bark. Most of the people responding only focused on the punishment, to which I never said it had to be the only way, just that I don't think fitting, painful repercussions should be ignored. But I am also not a Warden." He sighs.
"My main point was that I think you all should be able to communicate and trust one another to have democracy about how to handle an inmate. I've heard enough of you struggling to find ways to punish powerful inmates and even if you pull in a third Warden to help it's a lot. And what about the victims if they're other inmates? we don't get a voice in any of it. Or the loved ones of the victims? We may not be able to sentence them but we want an opinion on how they should be punished.
I want to give everyone a voice, sometimes an Inmate is sentenced but the other Wardens don't agree with it, and I just think it'll be better and more efficient if we all have a say, we all get a vote, and it can be determined what to do. I know we can't all agree, but even if there are 10 votes Aye to 9 votes Nay, the Ayes still have it. It can work. It could work... they're all just too stubborn to see beyond certain points." He shakes his head.
"I just am not in a position where they'll listen to me or listen to reason."
"But some other points were brought up I've been thinking about. In reality, though my crew had a vote, it was the Quartermaster that ultimately spoke for them. Maybe we do need... not a leader, but a representative, someone with a voice. I would put it to the Inmates to vote of course. I suppose the Wardens could elect one of their own if they feel it necessary. But no one here should be "Captain" we all have our duties and we are all equal. But I can also see the merit of having someone as a Quartermaster, someone to delegate and speak for the rest when necessary." He shakes his head again.
"Perhaps this thought is too alien to everyone else though unless you are on a crew it's hard to understand that kind of brotherhood and bond you have with the man beside you or the kind of trust you have in your Quartermaster. It's like digging minerals together. There's nothing like it. Maybe there's just no way to help them all understand what I mean when I say we need to act as a crew."
Everyone had assumed that Raylan would do that. Do the right thing. Keep the arrow straight path. He should have. He knew better. People could point the finger in all this but he knew where the blame really belonged.
"There's a lotta emotional punishment instead. Tearing off a layer that's forced vulnerability. Stoppin' them from fighting by making them non-corporeal, making them wear tattoos when they lie, whatever a creative Warden might think up."
He squeezes their hands.
"My biggest response to it all is - This ain't a democracy. Period, the end. Kinda cuts the legs out of all of the rest of the points. You can wish it was a democracy, but it-" He lifts and drops one shoulder with a little shake of his head as he looked back over.
"It isn't. Our common bond is that we're all here in the first place. There's community to be found in that. Like the culling. You keep sayin' crew, but this isn't that kind of ship. More than a little abstract from that. Instead of crew, we should focus on community. But I got a feeling the problem you're talkin' about has been a problem forever in this place. It's hard to shift the winds in these particular sails, and I believe that you can. Just gotta blow in the right direction."
"I remember, being fitted with a supernatural deterrent from hurting anyone, but it was more an annoyance than any kind of way to learn my lesson." He feels the squeeze and holds firm, brow knitting softly as he lets Raylan speak, chewing on his words to try and choose them carefully.
"I never said it was any of those things, I was saying it should be, that we should work to make those things happen that it would improve upon our current system." He's tired, he's explained and repeated and said all these things so many times now he's exhausted.
"It doesn't matter. No one gives a good goddamn. There's no point in wasting any more of my breath and energy, they won't listen, and they won't care." He shakes his head.
"Community, Raylan, is the very thing that fucked me in the first place. I'm not about to let them all fuck me again in the name of what they think is right and wrong, enforcing unbalanced consequences."
"It doesn't matter, nothing matters, that much is clear. Everyone will keep doing whatever they want, whenever they want to."
My main point was that I think you all should be able to communicate and trust one another to have democracy about how to handle an inmate, James had said. And Raylan's point was that it couldn't be that, but trying to clear that air right now would only get him more behind, not more ahead in this conversation, so Raylan opted to stay silent on that point right now.
Raylan understood the point. He just didn't agree with it.
"Everyone will keep doin' what they want, but it still matters. It all matters. Nihilism doesn't serve you or anyone else here and it undercuts those Wardens that have tried, that continue to try." Himself included. "And community always matters in the end but. We don't have to keep goin' after this horse right now. Not when you've been dealin' with it all afternoon."
More headway might be made later when James had properly calmed down.
"No, it doesn't, nothing anyone has said makes me believe anything is going to change for the better and I certainly am not the one to do it. I am going to keep to what I know and how I plan to protect the people I care about. That's all I've heard in any of their answers, that I might as well say fuck it all and do whatever the fuck I want. Cause everyone else is going to carry on doing the same." He shakes his head.
"I don't have faith in community. When you grow up, seeing yourself othered and ostracized, forced outside of society, civilization and community your whole life because you're different and poor. Being afraid of being discovered for what you are and the consequences of who you love. Community looks like a whole host of bullshit that's only meant for certain people. I've never been one of them."
"No one's gonna be able to tell you somethin' that's for sure gonna change. There's nothin' they can say that will promise that because there is more people on this boat than us and them, and it's somethin' that takes time. It's a long game, makin' that kind of turn. And you were just arguing the faith of crew community, fear or not so I don't believe that. You wanna turn into those people? The ones rejectin' everyone who doesn't agree with them for the sake of it?"
His gut told him that he should abandon this whole conversation - go and get another drink or three, turn it all over as he stared at the bottom of another empty whiskey tumbler, but they'd just talked about communication and being more honest. He wasn't trying to be an asshole, and that didn't change that now was as good a time as ever to test that out.
"Only way to get this shit to turn in that direction is consistency and self demonstration. Be the change you wanna see in the world and shit." God he sounded like a Hallmark card.
"It's different--" He starts, softly speaking up before biting back on his words and letting Raylan speak. He closes his eye and turns his head, hands trembling and jaw clenching as he seems to physically chew on his tongue to stop him from talking.
"I can't, Raylan." He wants to escape, he wants to get up and walk away and get some air but that's not going to help anything. He wanted communication and it's not that he doesn't want to hear what Raylan has to say but he just...
"I don't want to be that man anymore. I don't have the energy. I don't want to break myself in a thousand pieces for people that don't give a shit and don't want to change. I'm not doing it. I can't do it. I'm not leading this charge. This was it. That fire's gone out." He desperately wants a drink.
"I just want our life. I want peace and simplicity. I don't want this fight. I don't care about this fucking Barge anymore. I just want to find some way to go home with you and forget all about this ridiculous place."
Raylan sighs out his nose, eyes dropping back into his lap as he gently squeezes his hand. He doesn't want this to be a fight, he doesn't want James feeling like Raylan is kicking at him. As much as the term 'safe space' set his teeth on edge, the idea of it was something that he fully endorsed for them. Now that James had shown him he could have it. He had his end of that bargain to keep.
No one was asking James to lead. Raylan was only asking that he keep trying to change minds. It wasn't going to happen tonight, at any rate. Raylan knew when to call it quits.
"Alright, darlin', okay." They could let it rest there. "I promise you Miami is just as ridiculous though. Especially when it's spring break. Noise like you wouldn't believe, streets full of more bodies than you can imagine fitting on there.."
It was a distraction, but one that let him squeeze James's hand again before letting it go, and pushing to his feet.
"You want a drink?" This time they could have it together.
The point is you can't change anyone who doesn't want to change and he knows when it's a losing battle and when to retreat. He doesn't have it in him to fight anymore. It hurts that no one seems to understand or see what he sees, even Raylan. He doesn't want the pressure or the responsibility of trying to change anyone's mind when it's clear no one will listen or care.
"I'll need several if I'm going to catch up to you." The tone is subdued, not scathing or accusing. He keeps his eyes turned away, settling into the corner of the couch so he can lean on his elbow, chin in hand, brooding, trying to take deep breaths.
Sighing softly out of his nose, Raylan steps around to the kitchen and gets them two glasses, pulling out one of the better bottles of whiskey and carrying them back over. He sits on the coffee table facing James and ceremoniously pours them a few fingers. The bottle is set down safely to the side and he holds the glass out for James to take.
"It's gonna be okay darlin'. I'm fine with focusin' on us. Over the moon about it, in fact."
As Raylan brings over the whiskey he's half tempted to ask for the whole bottle, but he silently accepts the glass and drinks down those few fingers in a few gulps. He winces softly and holds out the glass. He'll slow down in a minute, right now he wants the burn.
"You're all I have." The only thing he feels like he has any control or power over making better and changing for the better.
"My entire crew hated me, you know." He smiles softly, but it's self-deprecating. "Even then I didn't feel as alone as I do here. I mean, other than when I'm with you, of course. With you is the only place I feel like I belong." That post has made him feel raw.
He swaps the empty glass for his untouched one, opting to just use that one instead and pouring himself out another few fingers.
"I still can't see how you get that many men to follow you outta fear alone. And Gates didn't hate you, did he?" Raylan doesn't smile, knowing full well how that turned out, keeping his voice soft and gentle. "I'm sorry it's not goin' well with everyone else, love. What about Jedao, how do you feel around him."
There's a soft twitch of lips as he mentions Gates and he looks away. "Towards the end, I don't know... he was tired of believing in me, blamed me for Billy's death. He saw Billy as a son. And I..."
Well, he killed him. He killed his best friend. He drinks that second cup down like it's water.
"Don't be." He sighs, "Par for the course." As for Jedao, he shrugs.
"Hard to say some days, but that's sort of different. It's his job to try and fix me."
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"I don't think these things, the ideas can come from me. I don't have enough sway or respect for anyone to hear me. I've done nothing to earn it." Except for the few that respected him for what he did on the Galley but even then...
"I know I'm not the only one who has tried or the only one who thinks what I have said but when it came down to it... all I heard are the echoing voices of opposition and accusation." He lifts Raylan's hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles.
"I just want peace in the end. I want to feel less useless to protect what I care about." He flicks his eye up to Raylan.
"And perhaps both of us should do better with communicating with one another."
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"Maybe not right now. But we got nothin' but time, and all situations change. You'll find a more successful way to make the argument. Find folks willin' to join you on that side of it. Willing to have the debate in good faith. I'm just afraid it's gonna take another Barge wide attack of some kind. We've had a few good ones. A 'healthy' one, I suppose we could call those weird ass wounds. Kinda worried we're due another ugly one just to even it all out..
He looks over then.
"I've been.. trying to shield you from my bullshit. Better to see if I can get away with it without you findin' out and losin' your mind in rage or worry. There's-" He takes a deep breath, searching his lovers face. "There's gonna be times and places for us to protect each other, but me goin' out with my temper under me isn't somethin' that.. that needs protectin' from. I haven't lost my temper like that more than a few times here. It's not pretty.. And its the only time a little bit of who and what I really am gets to take a breath.. I'm a Marshal for a reason.. My file's as big as it is for a reason. The system protects me in the long run and if I die again, it's gonna be because I've gotten slow, possessed, or out-thought. I'm not scared of it, dyin'. And I think you are."
It was understandable, but James wanted raw honesty and Raylan trusted him enough to try it out. Communication, right?
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He frowns, brow furrowed as he stares at their hands. "I don't fear death for myself. I do fear that there are limits to bringing you back. That something might happen to fuck it all up. What if you don't come back?"
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"I coulda shot Izzy. For havin' his blade against my throat. But I didn't, because of Willa. You-" He stops and licks his lips.
"You're used to having people. Having people watch your back and help you. The navy, your crew, Miranda. I've lived my entire life relying on myself alone. The Marshal's service will come in now and then but largely.. I've learned how to do it, how to keep myself out of the worst of trouble, and believe it or not, I'm good at it. Gotten myself outta more dangerous situations than the Barge has put us in with no mechanic to lean back on to bring me back to life.. That experience, those skills, have to matter otherwise what- I've just been lucky my whole life?" He shakes his head a little.
"Feels dismissive to categorize it like that. And I know, just because I've been doin' it on my own my whole live doesn't mean that I can't share any of it but--" He sighs out, jaw tensing a little. "I keep it in line for so long. It feels like a primal right to be able to have that emotion now and then without gettin' shit on for feeling a Thing. I can handle everyone else havin' an opinion on it. Their opinion doesn't matter. But I can't share my temper like that. If I need help, when I need help, I promise I will say somethin' to you. But when I don't, when I just want to go and do my job for a few minutes, the way I've been doing it for over twenty years.."
"You know that's why Winona left me, right? Because I was dedicated to my job and doin' it the way I've always been doin' it. She got tired of bein' worried about if I was gonna come home. I don't blame her but.. I always came home."
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"And just because you've been so self-sufficient all your life doesn't mean you always have to be. You have me. I want you to be able to rely on me. I'm not asking you to take me along on everything you do, I just... I just want to know about it. I just want you to be able to tell me when you're heading out to confront someone, or I don't know, I just want to know what you have a mind to do. I don't want you hiding anything from me. You need to trust me to trust you. Trust me that I'll listen to you when you say you'll handle something and not get in your way. And trust that I trust in you to take care and not do something stupid. At least then, I'll be here, waiting for you when you come home to welcome you with a drink or something to clean your wounds. Or I can be there when you call for me and want me by your side."
He shakes his head, "I just can't stand the fact that you feel like you need to hide anything from me. As if I can't handle your anger, after all the shit I've put you through. I just... I want to be here, I just want to know and be a part of it even if I'm not there with you on whatever mission you're on. Don't count me out so easily. I can handle it. I can handle you. All of you."
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Trust me that I'll listen to you when you say you'll handle something and not get in your way. And trust that I trust in you to take care and not do something stupid. That stuck out to him, struck a cord in him. That worry was another big reason that he wasn't overly inclined to open his mouth. Better to ask forgiveness than permission.
Raylan tightens their hands, staring at them as his lips tighten, working and then, letting go. James was asking for the ugliest side of him. All of him? Even he didn't want to handle all of himself. It was the Moon.
"Nothin' much good about all of me," he says quietly, before inhaling and looking over. "But all I can promise to do is try. I want to trust you like that." Even if nothing in his genetic code suggested he should. The last two times he had found out anything, James had lost it. Earned a shadow, blew up the network. But he honestly believed what James was saying. He had to hope James believed it too. That he could have that control.
"And I understand that if I want you to trust me the same way, I have to. And I do want that. Behind my own door is the only place I have to.. feel.. I dunno, secure enough to say half the shit I do anyway." His real, raw opinions. "Everyone out there.."
He shook his head a little, eyebrows lifting as he lifts his free hand to scrub at his face. "You weren't alone in havin' hard and or frustratin' conversations today, I'll say that."
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"Nothing much good about all of me either, but that's not the point, is it? We love and support each other anyway, through thick and thin, through the best and the worst parts. The point is we stay and we endure and we heal each other no matter what." He reaches out with his free hand to cup his face and brushes his thumb over his cheek.
"I'm not Winona or Tim, I mean what I said, you have all of me, for as long as you'll have me, or want me to be here." He just hopes Raylan can give him every part of him eventually, even the ugly parts.
"I'll say it again and again, as many times as you need to hear it. I would love nothing more than for you to feel like you can trust me and give me the same. But I understand it's something that might take time. I'll be here and I want the chance to prove to you I will remain here no matter what. That you can trust me. That you can trust IN me." He leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth.
He is trying desperately to control his temper and to give Raylan a reason to trust him. There are a lot of things they are learning and trying to correct in themselves together, after years of abuse and neglect and toxic, terrible situations. It'll take time, but he needs Raylan to know he's willing to see it all through and see every part of it.
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James was also clearing some easily assumable hurtles; Raylan would need to hear it again, would need it proven in reality before those deepest corners would consider that the universe would really give him that.
Raylan's lips purse in return, automatically kissing James back and following to capture his lips properly, in a firm but chaste kiss, a silent 'thank you' and 'I love you' all wrapped in one. Now would be a terrible time to purpose, wouldn't it? He didn't even have a ring.
"Starting today," he continues once it breaks. "More open communication. Because I never want you to leave darlin', that ones easy as breathing." He kisses James again before lifting their hands to kiss James's knuckles.
"Even if one of us has to step out to get a little drunk now and then."
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That would have to be one more thing they'd have to work on, the idea that Raylan is guarded because he assumes someone who loves him will only want to use his vulnerabilities to hurt him in some way. To build up black-mail, or whatever else. That toxic poison that Winona had put into him so deep in his veins that now he assumes it of everyone who loves him. Though he knows his father's abuse has some to do with it, there was a long, deep foundation built because of his Father, but Winona added a million blades and a thousand papercuts to an already painful trauma. Flint's slowly finding more, being allowed to see those hurts, but they run deep and it'll take time to break those poisonous quills from Raylan's skin. He's determined to find and heal every single one that he can. But he can't know about them without seeing it and putting together the pieces, or for Raylan to feel comfortable enough to admit it.
He kisses the other softly in return, feeling the warmth and press of those silent words. If Raylan had proposed to him he wouldn't have cared if there was a ring or not, they had their necklaces, and rings could come later. Those words are bouncing around behind his teeth and tongue. Perhaps it was too soon...
There's a nod of agreement and another gentle kiss, eye focused completely on Raylan. "Or get into a little fistfight, hm? As long as I know what to prepare for when you get back. I want to be here to give you whatever you'll need."
He just wants to be informed and present and prepared.
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Love was always worth it.
He nods again. "Okay. Can't promise that it won't be a text afterwards but.. I can let you know."
He takes a deep breath, eyes still on James's face.
"So we're okay? I want bein' with me a thing that makes you more okay, not more frustrated. And gettin' reamed by half the manifest is a lot. I don't want you thinkin' that I aim to pile on with them." He wanted their home to be the same kind of secure place that he himself needed.
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"We're okay." He squeezes his hand, which they can't seem to let go of one another.
"You're allowed to have different opinions, so if you are upset with anything I said I do want to know. I don't mean to make things more awkward or frustrating either. But I also want you to feel like you can be honest with me in all things."
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"I'm not upset. Disagreein' with people I love is something I've been doin' for a long time." It didn't make him love them, or James, any less. "I don't agree with your purposal, by and large. But I understand where the root of the argument is comin' from. Where the issue lies. Because you're right. We get what, at least two or three killin's a month if not more? If not en mass? I also don't have a counter offer to put on the table next to my disagreement. So sayin' nothin' is generally the wiser choice... Especially to everyone else. I can't have them thinkin' that I'm not next to you. My conversations get exponentially harder when they start poking around to see if I'm on the side of that kinda punishment. To see if they can pass judgement on both of us at the same time, ammo for them to gain the high ground on us later."
He shakes his head a little. "Just a lotta attention I wasn't expecting to have to field."
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Now he was ready to hear it and he casts his eyes down to their still interwoven hands.
"I never intended to bring so much attention down on you, but I also didn't realize you didn't talk to Kiryu, I thought for sure you would have..." He didn't realize how much it bothered Raylan, what happened to Roman.
"But I also hope they don't think you should be collaring and silencing me when I bark. Most of the people responding only focused on the punishment, to which I never said it had to be the only way, just that I don't think fitting, painful repercussions should be ignored. But I am also not a Warden." He sighs.
"My main point was that I think you all should be able to communicate and trust one another to have democracy about how to handle an inmate. I've heard enough of you struggling to find ways to punish powerful inmates and even if you pull in a third Warden to help it's a lot. And what about the victims if they're other inmates? we don't get a voice in any of it. Or the loved ones of the victims? We may not be able to sentence them but we want an opinion on how they should be punished.
I want to give everyone a voice, sometimes an Inmate is sentenced but the other Wardens don't agree with it, and I just think it'll be better and more efficient if we all have a say, we all get a vote, and it can be determined what to do. I know we can't all agree, but even if there are 10 votes Aye to 9 votes Nay, the Ayes still have it. It can work. It could work... they're all just too stubborn to see beyond certain points." He shakes his head.
"I just am not in a position where they'll listen to me or listen to reason."
"But some other points were brought up I've been thinking about. In reality, though my crew had a vote, it was the Quartermaster that ultimately spoke for them. Maybe we do need... not a leader, but a representative, someone with a voice. I would put it to the Inmates to vote of course. I suppose the Wardens could elect one of their own if they feel it necessary. But no one here should be "Captain" we all have our duties and we are all equal. But I can also see the merit of having someone as a Quartermaster, someone to delegate and speak for the rest when necessary." He shakes his head again.
"Perhaps this thought is too alien to everyone else though unless you are on a crew it's hard to understand that kind of brotherhood and bond you have with the man beside you or the kind of trust you have in your Quartermaster. It's like digging minerals together. There's nothing like it. Maybe there's just no way to help them all understand what I mean when I say we need to act as a crew."
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"There's a lotta emotional punishment instead. Tearing off a layer that's forced vulnerability. Stoppin' them from fighting by making them non-corporeal, making them wear tattoos when they lie, whatever a creative Warden might think up."
He squeezes their hands.
"My biggest response to it all is - This ain't a democracy. Period, the end. Kinda cuts the legs out of all of the rest of the points. You can wish it was a democracy, but it-" He lifts and drops one shoulder with a little shake of his head as he looked back over.
"It isn't. Our common bond is that we're all here in the first place. There's community to be found in that. Like the culling. You keep sayin' crew, but this isn't that kind of ship. More than a little abstract from that. Instead of crew, we should focus on community. But I got a feeling the problem you're talkin' about has been a problem forever in this place. It's hard to shift the winds in these particular sails, and I believe that you can. Just gotta blow in the right direction."
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"I never said it was any of those things, I was saying it should be, that we should work to make those things happen that it would improve upon our current system." He's tired, he's explained and repeated and said all these things so many times now he's exhausted.
"It doesn't matter. No one gives a good goddamn. There's no point in wasting any more of my breath and energy, they won't listen, and they won't care." He shakes his head.
"Community, Raylan, is the very thing that fucked me in the first place. I'm not about to let them all fuck me again in the name of what they think is right and wrong, enforcing unbalanced consequences."
"It doesn't matter, nothing matters, that much is clear. Everyone will keep doing whatever they want, whenever they want to."
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Raylan understood the point. He just didn't agree with it.
"Everyone will keep doin' what they want, but it still matters. It all matters. Nihilism doesn't serve you or anyone else here and it undercuts those Wardens that have tried, that continue to try." Himself included. "And community always matters in the end but. We don't have to keep goin' after this horse right now. Not when you've been dealin' with it all afternoon."
More headway might be made later when James had properly calmed down.
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"I don't have faith in community. When you grow up, seeing yourself othered and ostracized, forced outside of society, civilization and community your whole life because you're different and poor. Being afraid of being discovered for what you are and the consequences of who you love. Community looks like a whole host of bullshit that's only meant for certain people. I've never been one of them."
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His gut told him that he should abandon this whole conversation - go and get another drink or three, turn it all over as he stared at the bottom of another empty whiskey tumbler, but they'd just talked about communication and being more honest. He wasn't trying to be an asshole, and that didn't change that now was as good a time as ever to test that out.
"Only way to get this shit to turn in that direction is consistency and self demonstration. Be the change you wanna see in the world and shit." God he sounded like a Hallmark card.
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"I can't, Raylan." He wants to escape, he wants to get up and walk away and get some air but that's not going to help anything. He wanted communication and it's not that he doesn't want to hear what Raylan has to say but he just...
"I don't want to be that man anymore. I don't have the energy. I don't want to break myself in a thousand pieces for people that don't give a shit and don't want to change. I'm not doing it. I can't do it. I'm not leading this charge. This was it. That fire's gone out." He desperately wants a drink.
"I just want our life. I want peace and simplicity. I don't want this fight. I don't care about this fucking Barge anymore. I just want to find some way to go home with you and forget all about this ridiculous place."
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No one was asking James to lead. Raylan was only asking that he keep trying to change minds. It wasn't going to happen tonight, at any rate. Raylan knew when to call it quits.
"Alright, darlin', okay." They could let it rest there. "I promise you Miami is just as ridiculous though. Especially when it's spring break. Noise like you wouldn't believe, streets full of more bodies than you can imagine fitting on there.."
It was a distraction, but one that let him squeeze James's hand again before letting it go, and pushing to his feet.
"You want a drink?" This time they could have it together.
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"I'll need several if I'm going to catch up to you." The tone is subdued, not scathing or accusing. He keeps his eyes turned away, settling into the corner of the couch so he can lean on his elbow, chin in hand, brooding, trying to take deep breaths.
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Sighing softly out of his nose, Raylan steps around to the kitchen and gets them two glasses, pulling out one of the better bottles of whiskey and carrying them back over. He sits on the coffee table facing James and ceremoniously pours them a few fingers. The bottle is set down safely to the side and he holds the glass out for James to take.
"It's gonna be okay darlin'. I'm fine with focusin' on us. Over the moon about it, in fact."
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"You're all I have." The only thing he feels like he has any control or power over making better and changing for the better.
"My entire crew hated me, you know." He smiles softly, but it's self-deprecating. "Even then I didn't feel as alone as I do here. I mean, other than when I'm with you, of course. With you is the only place I feel like I belong." That post has made him feel raw.
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"I still can't see how you get that many men to follow you outta fear alone. And Gates didn't hate you, did he?" Raylan doesn't smile, knowing full well how that turned out, keeping his voice soft and gentle. "I'm sorry it's not goin' well with everyone else, love. What about Jedao, how do you feel around him."
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Well, he killed him. He killed his best friend. He drinks that second cup down like it's water.
"Don't be." He sighs, "Par for the course." As for Jedao, he shrugs.
"Hard to say some days, but that's sort of different. It's his job to try and fix me."
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