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."
"You know we don't see it like that, right? It's not 'fixing' you, you're not broken in that way. I-" Raylan lets out a breath, shoulders sagging a little.
"I wanna make it clear from the outset that I got no idea what it takes to graduate. And I'd suggest maybe talkin' to some of those that graduated and stuck around to Warden, see what their experience with it is. I don't even think Jedao knows; none of us do." He hoped James, and Roman, wouldn't hold that against them.
"And I don't think Gates hated you, not if he was ever really your friend to begin with. Real shame one'a these damned mysterious Things hasn't brought him in; I could ask him myself and be a nosey asshole to a guy who doesn't know me but- I've seen a lotta friendships sour, and it all depends on how deep at heart Gates took it.. How'd Billy go down?" Had they touched on a Billy when they were both bleeding out of tattoos and gunshot wounds that had no good business being where they were?
There's a soft, low nod, eyes cast down. He closes his good one and sighs, breathing deep and slow before releasing it, and everything else with a slow exhales. He knows. He does. He just is still very much wrestling with his self-loathing on this. He knows he's broken in a lot of ways, he knows he's got to be difficult to deal with at times. He knows the weight of what it means to believe in him and how exhausting it must be. It was for Gates. And Gates, his longest, truest friend, couldn't weather it. There were times even Miranda went behind his back because she lost faith in his fight and wanted a way out for them.
He turns the empty glass in his fingers before holding it out once more to be filled. He's really going to need a bit more for this.
"No, I don't think he hated me, but he didn't have to for it to sting when he gave up on me and on our plans because he just couldn't weather believing in me anymore, that I'd given him reason to doubt me so much." He didn't blame him, he blamed himself.
"He ... He was going to out me to the crew, he was going to reveal my true intentions which would've seen me judged and the crew would've wanted blood for it. He assured me he'd find a way to secret me away to safety so Miranda and I could run but... I just..." He shakes his head, swallowing the lump in his throat remembering leaping and strangling his best friend before snapping his neck. He felt him die in his arms. He'd sobbed and apologized.
"We were just too close to give up so soon." And he'd killed him to assure he could keep driving the crew to his own ends.
"And Billy," He sighs, "Billy had found out some incriminating things, something Miranda had done behind my back which lead to everything. I questioned him about it while we were being battered by a storm, trying to cut rigging loose to escape the Navy after attacking a ship. It was pitch black, the rails and rigging were slick, Billy fell... I tried to save him, I did..." He pauses because even to this day he's not sure if he let go on purpose.
"He slipped from my fingers. Gates blamed me. Billy had shared this information with him before any of this happened. So Gates assumed I'd done it on purpose to shut him up so he wouldn't tell anyone else." Had he? Did he? He might have, he could have. That was bad enough. He had tried to save him, but he hadn't tried hard enough... on purpose.
It might be a lot, Raylan wouldn't argue that and it wasn't easy to handle a lot of the time but that wasn't near enough to make Raylan give up on him. He knew that saying as much wouldn't help; that others had told James the same thing and then betrayed that promise so Raylan wouldn't promise. But he'd try to hold to it regardless. As much as anyone wanted to help, it was James's path to walk. His decisions to make. And to everyone else; their own.
"There's no fixing what's happened. Those things.. you'll have to live with them for the rest of your life. What matters is what you do going forwards, darlin'. You've suffered enough punishment for all that and I know that doesn't do anythin' for your guilt-" He saw it there on James's face, heard it in his voice and the way his lips downturned slightly when it got tough. "- But you're not strapped down to that way of surviving anymore. You just have to get the rest of yourself to acknowledge that it's okay to do things a different way. I told you before. This isn't your ship. Things aren't the way they were. That's all."
Some people took to that change easier than others. Raylan was going to be here for as long as it took, and then some, if Flint would let him.
"It's all I have to offer. I have nothing else." It's only his experience, his knowledge. The only thing he has are the things he knows best. It's not his ship, but he doesn't have anything else to go by. He can't suggest or recommend anything else, only what has worked for him.
"It'll be enough, James. Accepting the way of this place isn't gonna make you less or stupid or useless. It's just gonna be an adjustment. A differently way of employing those skills you've spent a lifetime sharpening. There's a use for them in leadership. People management. You're just dealin' with a different school of fish."
James feels everything twisting around in his chest, tying him in knots. His negativity, guilt, and self-loathing deny it all and want to rail against what Raylan was saying. But he doesn't have the energy left to argue and he doesn't want to give those feelings any more breathing room. He's tired of people telling him this isn't his ship as if he doesn't already know that. He's tired of people misunderstanding and treating him like he isn't trying to use what he knows for this setting. He's tired of fucking fighting against the tide and bothering to give a fuck where no one else does.
He just wants his life with Raylan and nothing else matters. He finishes his whiskey and sets the glass aside.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore. I just want you." His gaze flicks up, pleading and vulnerable. He just wants to wrap himself around his lover and listen to his heartbeat, maybe take a damn nap or something to force his brain to shut off for awhile.
Raylan looks at him a long moment and nods softly, glancing down at their hands and squeezes softly. "Okay baby. You got me. It's alright."
He'd leave it alone. He wasn't going anywhere. Raylan unlaced their hands and slipped his around James's shoulders, pulling him into a side hug if there wasn't any resistance.
"Whatever you want." He'd absolutely be into just laying here together, just being, just comforting James with no other conversation. Raylan was willing and pliable and love James no matter what. They'd get through it.
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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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"I wanna make it clear from the outset that I got no idea what it takes to graduate. And I'd suggest maybe talkin' to some of those that graduated and stuck around to Warden, see what their experience with it is. I don't even think Jedao knows; none of us do." He hoped James, and Roman, wouldn't hold that against them.
"And I don't think Gates hated you, not if he was ever really your friend to begin with. Real shame one'a these damned mysterious Things hasn't brought him in; I could ask him myself and be a nosey asshole to a guy who doesn't know me but- I've seen a lotta friendships sour, and it all depends on how deep at heart Gates took it.. How'd Billy go down?" Had they touched on a Billy when they were both bleeding out of tattoos and gunshot wounds that had no good business being where they were?
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He turns the empty glass in his fingers before holding it out once more to be filled. He's really going to need a bit more for this.
"No, I don't think he hated me, but he didn't have to for it to sting when he gave up on me and on our plans because he just couldn't weather believing in me anymore, that I'd given him reason to doubt me so much." He didn't blame him, he blamed himself.
"He ... He was going to out me to the crew, he was going to reveal my true intentions which would've seen me judged and the crew would've wanted blood for it. He assured me he'd find a way to secret me away to safety so Miranda and I could run but... I just..." He shakes his head, swallowing the lump in his throat remembering leaping and strangling his best friend before snapping his neck. He felt him die in his arms. He'd sobbed and apologized.
"We were just too close to give up so soon." And he'd killed him to assure he could keep driving the crew to his own ends.
"And Billy," He sighs, "Billy had found out some incriminating things, something Miranda had done behind my back which lead to everything. I questioned him about it while we were being battered by a storm, trying to cut rigging loose to escape the Navy after attacking a ship. It was pitch black, the rails and rigging were slick, Billy fell... I tried to save him, I did..." He pauses because even to this day he's not sure if he let go on purpose.
"He slipped from my fingers. Gates blamed me. Billy had shared this information with him before any of this happened. So Gates assumed I'd done it on purpose to shut him up so he wouldn't tell anyone else." Had he? Did he? He might have, he could have. That was bad enough. He had tried to save him, but he hadn't tried hard enough... on purpose.
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"There's no fixing what's happened. Those things.. you'll have to live with them for the rest of your life. What matters is what you do going forwards, darlin'. You've suffered enough punishment for all that and I know that doesn't do anythin' for your guilt-" He saw it there on James's face, heard it in his voice and the way his lips downturned slightly when it got tough. "- But you're not strapped down to that way of surviving anymore. You just have to get the rest of yourself to acknowledge that it's okay to do things a different way. I told you before. This isn't your ship. Things aren't the way they were. That's all."
Some people took to that change easier than others. Raylan was going to be here for as long as it took, and then some, if Flint would let him.
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He just wants his life with Raylan and nothing else matters. He finishes his whiskey and sets the glass aside.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore. I just want you." His gaze flicks up, pleading and vulnerable. He just wants to wrap himself around his lover and listen to his heartbeat, maybe take a damn nap or something to force his brain to shut off for awhile.
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He'd leave it alone. He wasn't going anywhere. Raylan unlaced their hands and slipped his around James's shoulders, pulling him into a side hug if there wasn't any resistance.
"Whatever you want." He'd absolutely be into just laying here together, just being, just comforting James with no other conversation. Raylan was willing and pliable and love James no matter what. They'd get through it.