She sure had some fire in her soul, something Raylan could appreciate on a base level, momentarily grateful for his upbringing and experience with strong, opinionated women. He was as friendly neutral as he could be, knowing all the while he was only going to piss her off more by virtue of his answer. It was better than being indifferent and wiser than matching her level of self-assertion.
"We need to talk," he says with a slight smile of politeness once she finishes, continuing with a gesture of his long fingers. "And it ain't gotta be here, and it ain't gotta be now, but we need to talk either way. I'm afraid I can't promise to not follow you - and I think you know why."
He had to be clear about Dolls, about where Black Badge stood with a death of one of its men and where they all stood against the fight on Demons and dark atrocities making its way into their world to wreck havoc on innocent people.
"Our fight ain't done here, Ms Earp. I think you know that better than anyone."
A few more steps is all it takes, and she's inches from him now, glaring up into his face, so angry that it never crosses her mind that he might see more than her anger, that he might see the heartbreak that's fueling it, desperate and desolate. She's not even thirty yet, but any youth in her eyes is dark and wounded and flashing with pain. "Let me tell you what I know, Marshal. I know this fight isn't over. And I know it's my fight, not yours."
She stares up at him, furious as a summer storm. "I didn't ask for Black Badge to send you. I don't want anything from them, and I don't want anything from you. I think you should get the hell out of here before you become the next costly mistake for them."
But even as she rages at him, she knows: there's no getting rid of him. If he goes, another one will come. Black Badge doesn't give a shit about Purgatory, or Dolls, or her, but the'll keep coming anyway.
Women were usually angry about something specific. Men tended to just be Angry, to be cruel, to take out their feelings on the world around them like cowards and boys, but women always had a reason. It was something he'd learned before he joined Black Badge but even still, it applied. So it wasn't hard to see the heartbreak behind that fury. Nor was it hard to see how very much Wynonna needed a hug.
He hoped she had someone that might give her what she needed. But Raylan Givens had seen a lotta people angry, a lotta women furious in their righteousness and correctness about the way the would should be, to let her lash against him with all the edge her voice could muster.
He could shoulder that.
"I know what I signed up for." The statement was short and firm, not unkind but in no way bending to the winds of her anger as he met her gaze with only slightly wider eyes; the unmovable mountain. There was no part about it that he didn't mean. Death was always going to come to them. One way or the other.
"And so did Dolls. This is our fight. Not just yours and not just Black Badges. It ain't about either of us; it's about them. Everyone else who doesn't know this shit exists, everyone else who's got a bit of peace we're never gonna know."
It was ugly and might be taken as a jabbing statement, the kind of verbal slap that someone might use to calm down someone who was freaking out - hell, he wouldn't be surprised if he got hit for it, she looked like the type - but it was the softest hard truth they had on hand. He softens himself a little, edges rounding over to something that most people would find more reassuring.
"It's a fight none of us should be takin' on alone if we hope to stay on top of it."
She pales at the hard words, the tendons standing out in her neck for a moment before she narrows her eyes at him once again, her lips thinning. "You really think Black Badge gives a shit about the fight? About anyone? About you?"
She can't help it; the memories come unbidden. Dolls, smiling at her from the hillside above the Homestead. Dolls, curled at her back in her bed, promising she isn't alone. Dolls, lying still and cold on the frozen earth. "Demons didn't kill Dolls. Black Badge did. And they'll kill you, too, if they fucking feel like it."
The worst part of this all is that— he's right. And Dolls might have said the same thing, once upon a time, before he looked at her at that party, something soft and undefinable in his eyes, and said screw 'em, I need you. She misses him like she'd miss her ribs, or her lungs. Everything feels wrong, everything hurts, everything is so much harder without him.
Which is why this new Marshal, Givens, isn't wrong. She can't do this alone. She can't do it without Black Badge. She already knows that when she turns around again, he'll be coming right along with her to the office. All she can think is that it's a damn good thing Nicole buried Dolls' mug with him; she couldn't stand to see someone else drinking out of it.
The misery isn't outweighing the anger in her voice, but it's there, swelling behind every word, filling her eyes and flushing in her cheeks. "Did you even know him? Do you have the foggiest fucking idea of whose boots you're trying to fill?"
Some questions didn't need answers. There was nothing to gain from rising to the bait, to telling her why it didn't matter if Black Badge gave a damn or not. No answer he could give would really answer he thought she had. Why didn't they care about Dolls? Why didn't someone, anyone? She was looking for and had, apparently found who she wanted to place that blame with.
But so long as she allowed for any delineation between him as a man and the badge he wore, Raylan was confident he could find a way around those ugly truths of her life, towards something that served their goal more definitively. Her grief was good, in its own way - she'd fight like hell because of it.
His dark eyes stay steady on hers and lets the words ring around them for a long moment before he answers, calm and sure and back to that reassuring tone.
"No. Cause I know the file I got ain't a fraction of the man it belongs to. Maybe that's somethin' else you can help me fix when we got some down time. But I got a lead on a lost little girl with a whole bunch of dead cows across the families land and I could use your knowledge of the area. Of it's problems, hot spots, people that ain't from around here."
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no subject
"We need to talk," he says with a slight smile of politeness once she finishes, continuing with a gesture of his long fingers. "And it ain't gotta be here, and it ain't gotta be now, but we need to talk either way. I'm afraid I can't promise to not follow you - and I think you know why."
He had to be clear about Dolls, about where Black Badge stood with a death of one of its men and where they all stood against the fight on Demons and dark atrocities making its way into their world to wreck havoc on innocent people.
"Our fight ain't done here, Ms Earp. I think you know that better than anyone."
no subject
A few more steps is all it takes, and she's inches from him now, glaring up into his face, so angry that it never crosses her mind that he might see more than her anger, that he might see the heartbreak that's fueling it, desperate and desolate. She's not even thirty yet, but any youth in her eyes is dark and wounded and flashing with pain. "Let me tell you what I know, Marshal. I know this fight isn't over. And I know it's my fight, not yours."
She stares up at him, furious as a summer storm. "I didn't ask for Black Badge to send you. I don't want anything from them, and I don't want anything from you. I think you should get the hell out of here before you become the next costly mistake for them."
But even as she rages at him, she knows: there's no getting rid of him. If he goes, another one will come. Black Badge doesn't give a shit about Purgatory, or Dolls, or her, but the'll keep coming anyway.
no subject
He hoped she had someone that might give her what she needed. But Raylan Givens had seen a lotta people angry, a lotta women furious in their righteousness and correctness about the way the would should be, to let her lash against him with all the edge her voice could muster.
He could shoulder that.
"I know what I signed up for." The statement was short and firm, not unkind but in no way bending to the winds of her anger as he met her gaze with only slightly wider eyes; the unmovable mountain. There was no part about it that he didn't mean. Death was always going to come to them. One way or the other.
"And so did Dolls. This is our fight. Not just yours and not just Black Badges. It ain't about either of us; it's about them. Everyone else who doesn't know this shit exists, everyone else who's got a bit of peace we're never gonna know."
It was ugly and might be taken as a jabbing statement, the kind of verbal slap that someone might use to calm down someone who was freaking out - hell, he wouldn't be surprised if he got hit for it, she looked like the type - but it was the softest hard truth they had on hand. He softens himself a little, edges rounding over to something that most people would find more reassuring.
"It's a fight none of us should be takin' on alone if we hope to stay on top of it."
no subject
She can't help it; the memories come unbidden. Dolls, smiling at her from the hillside above the Homestead. Dolls, curled at her back in her bed, promising she isn't alone. Dolls, lying still and cold on the frozen earth. "Demons didn't kill Dolls. Black Badge did. And they'll kill you, too, if they fucking feel like it."
The worst part of this all is that— he's right. And Dolls might have said the same thing, once upon a time, before he looked at her at that party, something soft and undefinable in his eyes, and said screw 'em, I need you. She misses him like she'd miss her ribs, or her lungs. Everything feels wrong, everything hurts, everything is so much harder without him.
Which is why this new Marshal, Givens, isn't wrong. She can't do this alone. She can't do it without Black Badge. She already knows that when she turns around again, he'll be coming right along with her to the office. All she can think is that it's a damn good thing Nicole buried Dolls' mug with him; she couldn't stand to see someone else drinking out of it.
The misery isn't outweighing the anger in her voice, but it's there, swelling behind every word, filling her eyes and flushing in her cheeks. "Did you even know him? Do you have the foggiest fucking idea of whose boots you're trying to fill?"
no subject
But so long as she allowed for any delineation between him as a man and the badge he wore, Raylan was confident he could find a way around those ugly truths of her life, towards something that served their goal more definitively. Her grief was good, in its own way - she'd fight like hell because of it.
His dark eyes stay steady on hers and lets the words ring around them for a long moment before he answers, calm and sure and back to that reassuring tone.
"No. Cause I know the file I got ain't a fraction of the man it belongs to. Maybe that's somethin' else you can help me fix when we got some down time. But I got a lead on a lost little girl with a whole bunch of dead cows across the families land and I could use your knowledge of the area. Of it's problems, hot spots, people that ain't from around here."