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justifiedPairing: Boyd/Raylan
Rating: G
Prompt: the past is a foreign country
AO3: Link
"No, Boyd, I won't be takin' that trip tonight." Raylan snugged his hat down on his head, and turned a toe toward the door.
"'t's just a short one, Raylan, won't take long." Boyd just wanted to see, that was all. He just wanted to see what Raylan really felt. All he gets in the present is grief. Grief, betrayal, and hesitance strong enough to smite the dear Lord.
Lifting a hand to his mouth, Raylan drug a finger slowly over his lip, rubbing at the middle. His thumb drew a line under his chin, and his eyes lowered just a moment.
"You must be kidding me, Boyd. You know as well as I do. The past is in a whole different country, and I ain't willin' to renew my passport for that much upset. I think you ought to know better'n that." He lifted his eyebrows, and cocked his head back at Boyd.
"I do." He did. It only hurt a bit to ask, more to hear the answer. Most to think about tryin' without actually doin'. "I hope some day that won't be true. I think the past is a place we could visit, and enjoy. I know it sounds impossible to you, son, but I promise... I won't make it hurt nearly as much as you think."
"Never gonna happen, Boyd. Never gonna happen." This time, Raylan's boots actually made way across the dusty wooden floor, hand on the door handle. He paused for a second then, but shook his head. Pulled the door open and left with not so much as a wave.
"I know, Raylan. You wish you could," Boyd muttered to himself, settling down by the fire with the good Lord's book, and a glass of lukewarm water from the tap. "Wish you could, too."
Rating: G
Prompt: the past is a foreign country
AO3: Link
"No, Boyd, I won't be takin' that trip tonight." Raylan snugged his hat down on his head, and turned a toe toward the door.
"'t's just a short one, Raylan, won't take long." Boyd just wanted to see, that was all. He just wanted to see what Raylan really felt. All he gets in the present is grief. Grief, betrayal, and hesitance strong enough to smite the dear Lord.
Lifting a hand to his mouth, Raylan drug a finger slowly over his lip, rubbing at the middle. His thumb drew a line under his chin, and his eyes lowered just a moment.
"You must be kidding me, Boyd. You know as well as I do. The past is in a whole different country, and I ain't willin' to renew my passport for that much upset. I think you ought to know better'n that." He lifted his eyebrows, and cocked his head back at Boyd.
"I do." He did. It only hurt a bit to ask, more to hear the answer. Most to think about tryin' without actually doin'. "I hope some day that won't be true. I think the past is a place we could visit, and enjoy. I know it sounds impossible to you, son, but I promise... I won't make it hurt nearly as much as you think."
"Never gonna happen, Boyd. Never gonna happen." This time, Raylan's boots actually made way across the dusty wooden floor, hand on the door handle. He paused for a second then, but shook his head. Pulled the door open and left with not so much as a wave.
"I know, Raylan. You wish you could," Boyd muttered to himself, settling down by the fire with the good Lord's book, and a glass of lukewarm water from the tap. "Wish you could, too."
