villagelogs | 065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

065-071 » assign to oblivion / part iii

WHO: Everyone
WHERE: Mathias Township proper
WHEN: Days 065-071
WHAT: The residents of Mathias reunite under unnerving conditions.
WARNINGS: (PM this account to have a warning added!)
NOTES: Plotting post over here!

RECOMMENDED ♫ Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross "Outside"

DAY 065-071
ASSIGN TO OBLIVION
“No matter how much time passes, no matter what takes
place in the interim, there are some things we can never
assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away.”
— Haruki Murakami

Only two days have passed since the town was fractured, leaving residents cut off from those they'd come to know and even care for. A mere two days of wandering the new streets, uncovering more secrets that continue to make little sense of this strange place. Two days with sunrises, sunsets, and nights that seem like any other.

And yet.

When residents wake on this third day, they will find that much has changed. All around them, wherever they may be, there are signs that time has passed without them. Dust covers everything, indoors and out, even areas that were spotlessly clean seemingly hours ago. The residents themselves are covered as well, dust clinging to their hair, skin, and clothing—

Clothing that they may not have been wearing when they went to sleep. Each resident, regardless of the state they were in previously, is now clad in a pair of white pajamas, with long pants and button-up shirts. Those who thoroughly explored Baneberry Hall will easily recognize these articles as identical to those well-stocked in the decaying great house. On top of this, the clothes they wore from home have disappeared, along with anything else they may have brought with them when they arrived or items from home that have been found within the borders of Mathias.

There is no sign that anyone has entered their place of shelter, nor is there any sign of what may have been done with these items or how they came to be wearing these clothes. The dust all around them is undisturbed, almost as if they had been sleeping there for quite some time, though it seems impossible for such a thing to have occurred naturally.

THE NEW ARRIVALS
The newest arrivals to Mathias will wake up on the lawn of Town Hall, at the center of the little town square. They, too, are bereft of any items from home and clothed in the identical white pajamas. There are shops all around them, with houses just beyond, and at first glance, everything seems almost picturesque. Except for the silence that is at times so complete as to be maddening... Welcome to Mathias.

SUMMERTIME
— When summer arrives, so too does an outdoor stand in front of the General Store. Sporting a handpainted sign proclaiming Whateley Farm, the stand is overflowing with a variety of produce: berries, plums, carrots, cabbage, cucumbers, green beans, leeks, onions, peppers, potatoes, zucchini, tomatoes, and garlic bulbs. These do not replace the produce offerings normally found inside the market, but they do behave strangely. The stand replenishes sporadically, sometimes every other day or every five days. There is no discernible pattern to when it replenishes, nor is there any sign of how it came to be there at all.

— With the now-complete reverse change of season, much of the autumn debris has cleared from around town. Only a few stray leaves and fallen branches remain, their crisp colors at odds with the warm summer days. The forest has also cleared of much of the fall detritus, making it easier to both follow the paths and potentially spy things that might be out of the ordinary.

CONDITIONS UPDATE
— THE WEATHER Summer has arrived in Mathias, bringing with it warm days that average 70°F and comfortably cool nights. The skies are clear throughout the week save for Day 68 when a light rain falls from a grey sky throughout the day.

— THE FOG has maintained its new boundaries.
— Residents may now wander the southern stretch of the forest surrounding Mathias Township — it is possible to leave the paths but potentially unwise to do so.
— The fog has also retreated from the western section of town entirely.
— Access to the northern section of the forest is still blocked beginning a few dozen yards past the treeline; this section of fog will urge residents to stay huddled within the town proper by inducing a physical reaction of panic and fear.

— DISAPPEARANCES AND DEATHS continue! Max Guevara and Liz Brundy have disappeared, and now that everyone is back together, residents will notice that Yennefer, Number Five, and Tony Stark have also vanished.

— ALCOHOL supplies have run dry, save for any dregs that have been squirreled away by individual residents. Moonshine can still be acquired by those in desperate need.

OOC NOTES
— UPDATES Don't forget to report updates as they come up! Changes to locations (like toppling a few bookshelves in the library), big plots you have coming up that will affect the game (parties, major property destruction, etc), or exciting discoveries that may tie into the game's mythology (even the things provided by the mod) are very helpful to have in one place so relevant page updates can be made. IC events are also helpful to know about in advance so they can be included in the log write-ups.

— MOD STATUS My non-RP life is busy and chaotic and I continue to ask for your forgiveness and understanding as game things continue to be slower, as I cannot promise timely mod responses beyond weekends and even that is not wholly guaranteed.

— ITEMS FROM HOME All items from home that characters would normally possess have vanished for this log and will return in the next. This includes clothing and possessions they had when they arrived in Mathias, items that were found in the rain, and items that were found in Baneberry Hall and removed from the property. Items from home that were left behind by other characters no longer in the game have also vanished. (All other items and clothing still remain, it is only items from characters' homes that have disappeared.)

— BANEBERRY ITEMS The items from home that were not removed from Baneberry Hall in the last log have vanished from the property. These items will not reappear in the next log. (Please be sure to comment in the appropriate spot on those logs about the state of your character's item for inventory purposes, ie whether they were removed from the property or left behind.)

— ACTIVITY CHECK Beginning with June's AC (posted at the start of July), all tags that consist of only dialogue will count as 0.5 points, not just those that occur in an inbox thread — this applies to both AC and AP totals. This adjustment is an extension of what has been in place since the start of the game: that all dialogue-only inbox tags counted for a half-point. Since such tags have occurred regularly in log threads as well, the half-point status is simply being extended to all tags regardless of location in order to be fairer in point distribution. (Examples will be provided in the AC post to assist with proper counting.)

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Neal and I had a fight," he said simply, body already aching for the solid warmth to be up against him again. "He can punch pretty damned hard when it lands, you're lucky you missed out on that," he started as he ambled over to pick up his moonshine glass again, off hand shoved into his pocket.

“Well, he tried to punch me that time…” He just hadn’t let him. And Raylan didn’t have to let someone as inexperienced as Neal punch him, either.

“What happened; what did you fight about?” he asked softly with concern, stepping closer, reaching out to put a hand on the forearm whose hand was in the pocket, rubbing back and forth with his thumb. “I’m sure you’ll be able to work it out. Neal loves you.”

Protip: Continue to not let him.

"It started with memories but." Raylan shook his head and took a deep breath. He couldn't quite bring his eyes up. "It devolved.. Neal gave me.- " He still had to huff a little breath, a crook of his smile, dark eyes briefly coming up to meet Malcolm's. "He's a ballsy little fucker.."

No amount of humor was going to get him outta this.

"He gave me twenty four hours to fold you into the loop, otherwise he was going to and you don't deserve to hear it from someone else. Especially not in the way he would tell it." Raylan looked back up. "And I know it's gonna hurt no matter how it comes out."

Pushed off his own timeline again, even though he'd resolved to tell Malcolm. He supposed that's what he deserved for his indulgence of the heart anyway.

Malcolm’s expression became wary. Uncertain. He honestly couldn’t imagine what this news could be. Did it have something to do with the memories? But he’d seen Raylan’s memory. Hurt him or hurt Raylan? Hurt how?

“What loop?” he asked carefully.

"The one where Tim has admitted he's in love with me. We've slept together. It's why he was so cagey when you got here. Seein' me with other men just.."

He shook his head, and looked down, scared about what he'd see follow in Malcolm's features.

"I wanted to tell you a few days ago but with everything.." He was a greedy, selfish man who'd wanted to stay in his safe little bubble where the warmth and understanding and affection was for a little longer. For one more night.

And all that was possibly over now.

Malcolm just stared at him for a moment. Jealousy made sense with Tim's behaviour. You're fucking, he'd spat. But.

"You mean you slept together before you came here, right?" he clarified. Had they had an affair back home before Raylan came here and he didn't know how strong Tim's feelings were?

"No." Raylan lifted his eyes again. "We slept together the day after Tim died. The day after I-" It didn't matter what he had done that night. Or what he had felt. Or that he had watched his partner dissolve into night terrors that were just as horrific as Malcolm's because he hadn't moved in time. Only what he had done the next night. Or the nights after.

Only everything else.

Malcolm’s expression creased, trying to reconcile that with what he knew, retroactively.

“The day after Tim died you fought with him in front of the house,” he said.

And then they’d gone back inside. And then Raylan came back… a little later.

Oh.

Malcolm’s face went on that journey and then he watched Raylan’s face carefully.

“Was that the only time?”

Then he reconsidered that and immediately waved it off with both hands.

“You know what? You don’t owe me… documentation. Forget that. Just.” He swallowed and looked at Raylan again. “Is it over now? You and him?”

Raylan swallowed thickly and didn't say anything, letting the pained, steady eye contact say what he needed it to.

Here, in Mathis? Was he to leave the man that had saved his life, hand over fist, to leave a man he knew was on a dangerous edge, a man who had trusted him with all the broken soft parts of his soul that he'd been fighting against for years? Was he to leave Tim alone?

He couldn't. Just like he couldn't leave Malcolm alone and he couldn't leave Henry alone.

As Raylan’s expression held, Malcolm’s wavered, then faltered, the he tried to gather it back up.

“But he’s from your world,” Malcolm said in as steady a voice as he could manage. “He’s going back there. With you. No matter what.” He swallowed. “I guess it wouldn’t just be me anymore, huh? In your world. You wouldn’t choose me anywhere.”

You wouldn’t choose me anywhere. It felt like a punch in his solar plexus and his eyebrows twitched as he shook his head a little, taking a half step forward, an errant hand half reaching out for him. All the knifes edges that he'd been balancing on came down to that didn't it.

"Malcolm, you know that's not true. We don't know how we're going back or if we're going back and nothin's gonna be the way it is here, nothing. I can't leave him to twist in the win. Just like I can't leave you. He's got nothing else here."

Raylan was ashamed in a way he hated. Ashamed that he wasn't strong enough to make such a firm choice here. Ashamed he wasn't strong enough to leave one of them to their own devices for the other. What he ought to do.

You oughta leave all of them, find a house to drink yourself to death in, see how Mathis likes that.

“That’s weak, Raylan,” Malcolm said bluntly, but not unkindly. “You have choices that aren’t ‘be his boyfriend’ or ‘leave him alone to fend for himself’, but I think you’re aware of that. We both have lots of friends here that we’re there for unequivocally that we’re not in a romantic relationship with. Maybe we don’t know if we can choose where we go when we get out of here, but we don’t know we can’t. We don’t even actually know we’re not from the same world. Maybe we are. But it doesn’t matter now because, no matter what, he’ll end up where you are and he’ll be in your life. Ninety percent of your life. On stakeouts, driving to Harlan, following leads, doing paperwork in the office, grabbing dinner with you on the way home. Even if you think you still want me there, where would I be? I was prepared to leave everything I know behind for you. Everything.” His voice started to shake, and blinked to stop the tears from where they threatened to spill. “To be a safe place for you at the end of the day. But Doc was right: there’s no space for me there and I can’t leave everything to be ten percent of a dirty little secret.” He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I told you, the night I found you with Doc: nobody chooses me when they have any other options.” He stepped closer, finally, and then another step. “I knew better. I don’t blame you. You don’t owe it to me to feel a certain kind of way just because I want it. Just.” He huffed a quiet breath of a laugh and looked down at Raylan’s feet. “I really wanted it.” He looked back up at him. “But that’s on me; that’s not on you. You have to do what’s right for you.”

All the parley excuses died in his mouth the more that Malcolm went on.

"That's not what you are," Raylan whispered tightly. "You're not a dirty little secret but you are a safe space for me." Were. Fuck. "I know exactly where you'd be. In the van or waiting at home to talk over a case, give me your opinion."

His hands hovered uselessly around Malcolm's frame, wanting to touch him, wanting to pull him in, wanting to not get hit for it, however much he might deserve that. He did deserve it.

"I love you Malcolm. It's not out of pity, it's not out of obligation. I didn't kiss you or go to bed with you just because you wanted it. I-. I need you. And I need to know you're okay and it doesn't matter who I'm standing next to at the time. Neither of you are my boyfriend. I told you I couldn't, I-" Tried to cover his bases. Covered one too many maybe.

"I'm sorry." It wasn't enough. None of it was.

“Raylan, I’ve been a dirty little secret this whole time. You don’t even want people here to know you’d sleep with me. What’s it going to be like in Kentucky?” he said realistically. “But I was okay with that. It was okay. Because this…” He gestured between them. “It mattered. It was special, even with Doc in the picture. And when I agreed to that, I could deal with it because I can talk to Doc about it. I trust Doc and I know he’d never hurt me. But I didn’t know I was agreeing to some ever-expanding harem and I don’t trust Tim. I can’t even talk to him about grilled cheese, much less this. I imagine it’s easy to feel special when three people want to be in your bed, but it gets harder and harder to feel special when the person you’re sleeping with is taking on more partners. Without telling you. Again.”

His expression softened and he stepped forward, this time reaching for Raylan, setting his hands on his chest.

“I know you love me. I know you do. But I’m in love with you and I c…” His voice broke and he looked down at Raylan’s chest, gathering himself before looking back up at his face. “I love you, too, and I don’t want to lose you. But. This isn’t good for me, this… ambiguous… not knowing what I am or… what I mean. Not knowing how many others there might be in the future. Just… getting less and less special. I can’t do that. I don’t want to lose you,” he insisted again. “But I think it might be better if we go back to being friends,” he explained, fighting welling tears and the waver in his voice again. “Like I am with Doc. I mean. How much would really change? It would just…” He took a breath. “It would take away any… expectations of… dancing dates and… futures. That’s all. I was the starter kit. I was never going to refuse you. It was… safe and gentle and… basic. Now you’re figuring some things out and you’ve upgraded to a more suitable package, as it were. We can be friends, again. Like we were before that.”

It was none of their business. None of it was any of their business.

But Malcolm was touching him and coming against him and saying all of that - it made his head spin. It was conflicting signals and there was no way in hell he could push Malcolm away and demand clarification. Not when he was the one in the wrong.

"I'm.. I'm telling you now," he whispered, heart breaking in his chest and clawing its way up his throat. "It's not ever expanding, it's not."

He had wanted dancing. He had wanted futures, he had- wanted too much.

"You're not some package, some gay starter kit Malcolm, you're my first and-" There was no replacing that. Malcolm was special to him for so many other reasons but he wasn't disposable. He wasn't some stepping ladder up. Raylan swallowed again, hands settling oh so lightly on Malcolm's shoulders as he shook his head fractionally, resisting the urge to plant a kiss into Malcolm's hair.

I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I need you. I can't just be friends.

"There's not going to be any others." He felt small and vulnerable and a bit like he was begging for grace. "I promise there aren't."

Malcolm's eyebrows raised fractionally, his hands grasping Raylan's shirt.

"How can you know that? Did you plan things with Doc? With Tim?"

Raylan's hands settled a little more firmly, fingers clenching into Malcolm's shirt. It was time for another bit of honesty.

"With Doc, I- I did, Malcolm. I didn't want to get into dedicated relationship because it would have meant giving up what I felt was there. Because I wanted to explore it. I didn't plan anything with Tim but.. He is from my world. I-" He couldn't tell him no.

Maybe that made him a weak man, no matter the kicks and blows that he'd taken before all that happened.

"There's not going to be anyone else, Malcolm. I promise. I didn't plan to do any of this. With any of you. Not really." He'd fallen into it along the way with the soft nights and the deep, personal conversation. Malcolm had cracked Raylan like a nut. Doc wasn't even his. Doc was Wyononna's on loan. He belonged to someone else. Someone that was never going to be Raylan's. It was stupid to think otherwise.

Malcolm nodded. "Okay, but... I understand the situation with Doc. I understand what Doc wants from this and it isn't anything... beyond the moment and the connection. Doc talks to me," he reminded Raylan. "And Doc and I wanted different things out of this. But Tim doesn't talk to me and you know what? I don't think he and I want different things out of this. Does he talk about how it's going to be when you go home?"

"I've tried so hard to get comms up between you two," he whispered in desperate defense of himself. "He is trying too, he is."

But Malcolm had asked a very important question and Raylan couldn't lie to him. Not again. Not anymore.

"We don't know how it will be when we all go home. None of us. I ca-" His eyes darted back and forth from Malcolm's. "I can't get through a conversation about it. Even when I've given into the idea that we will remember it all... I got a girl to help raise.. I'm a parent. I don't know how he's really going to deal with that. I don't know how you are. I have to be a part of her life. I have to help raise her in the way we think she oughta be raised. I can't be left out of it, Malcolm, I can't."

Him and Winona. He hadn't forgotten about her. About what he owed her. What he owed her put him in an awkward position to begin with. This would all. Just be used against him.

"I can't think about home. I can't plan anything for it. I can't get my hopes up and have it snatched away. I can't handle the idea that all our plannin' is for nothin'. I can't handle the idea that we go back and you're not there and everything is just dust in a messed up memory of a place I can't prove exists. Please. Please don't make me."

He'd spend a childhood daydreaming that life was something other than what it was. He was still dealing with the bitterness of that dream fizzling out like a sparkler on the 4th of July.

"I would feel... deeply privileged to be part of your daughter's life." The excitement he felt at the prospect - the trust - was still fresh in him and it stabbed him in the heart now. "But - again - if either of us is going to end up there, it's going to be him. I can be your friend here, Raylan, in a 'there's only Mathias' frame of mind. I can offer you every bit of love I have to give in that capacity. I don't think you even really grasp what you mean to me," he explained, his grip on Raylan's shirt tightening. "But I can't pretend that the kind of relationship I thought we had doesn't need a future," Malcolm told him urgently. "If everyone gets sent back and we remember everything, you two will have each other and the rest of your lives. If we get sent back and we don't remember anything, you won't even know I existed. There are no plans left that include me either way. I end up alone in New York again, like I was always going to. You're off the hook. But now think of how I'm going to feel seeing you with him, when we're both the same thing to you and we both want the same thing and all reasonable logic says that he gets to have it. I can't just...." He closed his eyes a moment and his breath stuttered as he tried to take it in. "I have to think about this. I can't just... keep throwing my heart into traffic."

God he wished he had an argument against that. The only one that he did have included one of them getting help that wasn't him. He didn't want to be off the hook. Raylan's hands tightened in Malcolm's shirt.

"You can't know that." That's weak, Raylan. "That it's going to be him. You can't know that it's going to be anything. If you don't remember me then it won't hurt and you will have missed out on what time we get to have together here. I would rather love you here and now rather than take any of it back. I am sorry that I am not as comfortable as everyone wants me to be about this. Out. Open. Parading down the street with.. I don't know nipple clamps and a anal plug. I am sorry that I cannot be like you. Confident and.. unashamed in every facet about this. Able to ignore the way people are gonna stare at me because of the idea of what I am in their head. But I am.. I am trying, Malcolm."

He'd told several people he wasn't sleeping with, as shitty a bar as that is. He was taking baby steps, but he was moving. He also felt on the precipice of.. not moving anymore. Too much had been put out there. His fault, really. He accepted that. Maybe should have found a way to explain to Tim that it wasn't personal, despite the touch-centered communication that he'd gotten used to in the house.

"But." He took a breath in and nodded, face pinching. "I want you to be happy, Malcolm. Even if you decide that's not here-" Neal loves you too. He'll take care of you. Doc will back him up. You'll be okay, you strong tank of a perfectly broken man.

"Whatever you want."

Malcolm made a face at ‘nipple clamps and an anal plug’. He never cared that Raylan wasn’t out and didn’t want to be. He was always fine with being the Secret, when he thought it was a more exclusive club. It was just a fact. Something that could only be carried into Kentucky - if they were there - where societal pressures were much greater than they were in Mathias.

“I never condemned you for not being out. I kept the secret faithfully. I did everything faithfully. Whether you want people to know is the last thing I’m concerned about. It’s just a fact of our case that you don’t. If you want to move past that, good. I’d be happy to help. If you don’t, that’s fine. I’ll never be the one that tells. Just.” He choked back a sob before it could get all the way out. “Whatever we are, I don’t want to be not here.” He pounds one fist against Raylan’s chest, but he doesn’t get any steam behind it because he doesn’t let go of the shirt. “Have you even been listening to me? Even if we’re just friends, I still want to spend time with you, to explore, to drink tea and talk, to curl up at night shift. All the things I was afraid to lose when Doc said I should tell you about my crush. God, being wanted by you was all I wanted and couldn’t dare to hope for. But, like I said, it won’t change much if we’re… not that. Tim and his empty bad faith ‘advice’ can sit comfortably in his spot and me in mine and you don’t have to think about the future. Whatever I… do… don’t you dare leave me. I just. I want to do what’s best for both of us. I was trying to offer a compromise. The night I found you with Doc, when you went down to make coffee… he told me I shouldn’t accept the arrangement. He knew what I was made of. But I couldn’t face being the one you didn’t choose. I think… I think if we can still… have everything else, I can live with it now. But I can’t live in a limbo where I don’t understand where the lines are and everything you offer to me, you offer to him, too. That’s not fair to either of us and I don’t even like Tim.”

Malcolm had called himself Raylan's Dirty little Secret. What else was he asking, other than for Raylan to be out about it?

Whatever we are, I don’t want to be not here.

He couldn't breathe again, like he was pressed up against and into a rock with another on his back.

I love you, just not enough to tolerate all this.

"All I've got to offer is me. It's the only thing I've got," he said quietly. I can't be just friends. "I don't.. I don't do what I do with you, with friends Malcolm. I-"

He couldn't breathe Malcolm in every other night and curl up with him and give him everything and have some nebulous line that he didn't know where it existed. He couldn't imagine what not seeing Malcolm at all would feel like. He didn't want to. It felt like a slap that Henry had told Malcolm to say no. Is that what he really thought?

"If this is just about sex to you then I-" Was that what their whole relationship was settled on? "- That is not something I need. From any of you. Taking that out doesn't stop this - this is our relationship. The talking and the curling up at night and trusting each other with.." With everything. "The dancing we were supposed to do."

Malcolm wasn’t asking him for anything except more than ten percent of the space in that Dirty Little Secret spot. A dirty little secret was just what he was, not a request to be something else. A fact.

If this is just about sex to you…

Malcolm looked up at him with almost wild eyes as he talked. Suggesting his interest diminished to just that snapped something in him.

“Excuse me? If this is just about sex to me? That’s one of the key elements that makes this a romantic relationship instead of a close platonic one. You’re not someone’s lover if you don’t make love. It’s a physical extension of emotional intimacy, but the emotional intimacy has to be there. That’s the out I was offering you. We keep everything the same except that. But I’m taking that offer off the table now,” he said, suddenly defiant. “If it isn’t something you need from any of us, then stop sleeping with Tim. He can be your friend and I’ll be your lover. How about that? He’s only been here… what, a couple of weeks? You can pick up the record player when you go down to Philips to let him know. I’ll wait,” he said, stepping over to hop up on a kitchen island stool and fold his hands in his lap.

Before Raylan could say or do anything, he continued “Why should you get to do whatever or whoever you want and then dump the hard decisions in my lap two weeks later every single time so I have to choose retroactively whether I’m okay with being your third fiddle lover, anyway? I choose to keep you and everything about this. I want it. You gave it to me and I don’t want to hand it back. Tim’s the one that keeps telling me to tell you what I want; to just ask you to stay with me and you’ll stay. Well, I want you. I want to be selfish and I want you to be with me. Now you have to decide. Because I don’t even understand what you think you want. How did you think three boyfriends was going to work? When I agreed to the thing with Doc, was I agreeing to a completely open relationship? I don’t remember you saying that, but leaving you won’t make me happy. I know that. I know when I’ve been happy. You’ve seen it. Every time I see your face or hear your voice. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t have enough to offer in just yourself. You’re everything. I was with you first. If anyone hasn’t offered enough, it’s the person you’ve replaced twice since then!” he asserted, pointing at his own chest, tears threatening again. He squeezed his hands together in his lap, looking at the floor as he tried to recover his composure, but it was so far out the window now, it was a futile effort. “Why didn’t you talk to me first?” he asked in a strangled voice, still staring at the floor.

Tim said. Doc said. Ainsley or Klaus or someone else always said.

I don't do with friends what I do with you.

Raylan didn't stop Malcolm as he walked away, the spot on his chest where Malcolm had hit him still warm and pulsing, despite how soft the punch was. Raylan also wasn't sure what was still on the table. Malcolm wasn't his third fiddle lover. He hadn't been replaced. Nothing could replace him and seeing him in tears broke Raylan's heart just as much as having this whole conversation did.

"I don't have three boyfriends, Malcolm, I've got three men that I care deeply about, that I would murder to protect and take a bullet to save," he starts softly as he walks over to stand in front of him. He wasn't going to reach out, wasn't going to touch him, but he couldn't stay over where he was and still.

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you first. I picked up the pieces of him without thinkin' about it. I wanted to give him time to pull his head out of his ass. To give him time to stop blaming you for somethin' you didn't do. To give y'all time to figure out how to talk. To give him time to.. decide if he could handle it. If he'd said he couldn't.." Well, they wouldn't be where they were. But it wasn't Tim's fault. It was Raylan's. He took and let out a deep, uneven breath.

"There is no replacing you. No one can do that. And I am not trying to say that I don't have anything to offer. Only that I am all I have to offer. Malcolm, I'm.. not emotionally intimate with friends. Being friends like that here involves picking you both up out of your nightmares and trauma and giving you a solid, safe place to unravel until you can get up and keep moving again. I only mention sex because that.. doesn't factor into that emotional intimacy. I can stop sleeping with Tim and Henry and you and I will still be just as dedicated to all of you as I was before."

If sex was the issue, if it wasn't the intimacy that Raylan shared with them, he could do without that. It was.. nice to be able to express how he felt physically, but he didn't require it. Sex didn't change anything. He still loved them. That was the issue.

"You're right. I got.. no idea how this was supposed to work. I don't know. But I don't want to lose you and I can't start pretendin' that Tim doesn't need me. Or my support." That emotional intimacy.

"There's not gonna be anyone else," he whispered.

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Content warning: if you're tender don't read i dont have time for these

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okay well if I work on it anymore I'll never stop