Sweeney watches her light the cigarette, licking his lip in the phantom longing for the taste. But he errs against lighting his own, feeling it might complicate the conversation somehow. He isn't sure why, but he doesn't have a lot of extra energy for reflecting at the moment.
He assumes she asked for a reason, probably one related to fucking. As such, he let's the quiet settle again, in case she has a follow up.
The question was for clarification and she nods, knowing that he knew why she asked. She decides that she needs to hear more, even if there is a question burning at the edges of her mind to ask. It occurs to her that by getting closer, he felt he could trust her with certain information. Namely, her, which doesn't seem very fair, overall. How much did she know? How much of her past is being unfairly judged?
Laura takes another drag, and she leans forward, her right thumb slowly starting to spin the ring on her index finger. She peers up at him, curious if that was all he had to say.
Ok then. Sweeney guesses that means the ball's back in his court. Great.
"That wasn't the only reason." It's a little difficult to admit, but it's clear he's making the effort, for her. He'd very much like to move past this particular topic, if only because there's very little to say on it in regards to what actually happened between the two of them. But he also knows if he pushes past it, it's likely to get Laura's hackles up.
"She wasn't lookin' fer that kind of relationship." He wets his lips.
Laura recognizes that he's trying and she wishes there was a way to show that she appreciates that he is. Still, it does little to lessen the feeling that she's being padded for a much larger truth and everything he says is unconsciously taken in and looked at for any double meaning. It's unintentional and she feels like shit doing it, but there's a need to know. Perhaps to steel herself from how it ends up making her feel.
His brow crinkles in genuine confusion. The expression is muted, but still plain as day with them facing each other. Sweeney's lips part, but unsureness leaves the quiet a little longer.
"I already have that." An intimate sexual relationship that goes well beyond simple fucking and uncomfortably into the realm of 'he doesn't want to think about what it means because the answer would force him to acknowledge some shit'.
"With you."
Or, at least, he thought he did. With that 'breach overlap', he's starting to feel less confident about it.
She catches herself halfway through, closing her eyes and silently admonishing herself for saying it wrong. Good fucking job, Laura. She nods, not letting him believe that they weren't that.
"Yes, we are," she confirms, looking at him so he can see that she speaking genuinely. "I meant a deeper relationship with love and all that. That's what she prefers that you don't?"
Was that question any better? She wasn't too sure about that.
There's that moment of relief at her confirmation, that Raylan wasn't something he needed to worry about. Honestly, he hadn't been, even when the marshal had approached Sweeney about continuing to fuck her. It was the look on her face when she fled that had planted the seed.
But then she continues, and his expression sinks, along with his shoulders. Alright.
"No. She ain't lookin' fer that either."
Sweeney would rather not go into Swamp Rat's life, out of respect, but he's getting the feeling the more respectful he tries to be to one, the more the other dwells. At least, that had been how it seemed earlier.
He won't have to go into Misty's life for her to be able to glean how he feels about her and so far, whenever questions come up he's quick to point out what she wants or doesn't want.
She catches his expression and the way his shoulders drop and Laura tries to keep an understanding look on her face, only she can't help but let a few tells slip; her eyes, the fidgeting with her ring that she keeps spinning faster as things become harder to parse and the way she swallows thickly.
"Does that disappoint you? That she isn't looking for something deeper?"
Sweeney frowns. Really? We're going to play Guilty by What If?
"An' what does it matter if it did?" His head tilts. "Do ya wanna talk 'bout my wife, too?" Others he misses. Wants to see again. Wants to atone for.
He doesn't give her time to answer, inhaling sharply and diverting the path at a steep angle, but with an intended direction.
"The second time I spoke with her, we talked of Moral Codes. I told her 'bout what I'd left undone. 'Bout how I'd wronged you in not seein' you properly restored." And my Coin back in my pocket.
"The moment she found out, ya know what she did? She made it her sole fuckin' purpose ta get back ta you an' resurrect you. That weren't outta care fer me; that was outta care fer you."
"No," she pops in, pissed at herself that she can't keep her mouth shut and let him tell her what he wants to tell her and nothing else because none of it was her business. She chimes in again with, "And I didn't even know you were married."
She stabs the cigarette butt into the ashtray with a little more force than she would have if they were just talking about random shit and bites at her bottom lip. No, she didn't like how he was talking to her. Sweeney was giving her information she never asked for but he felt spurred to tell her. Why? To hold some kind of resentment toward her because of ALL the things she presumably- wait.
"So she knows about me?" Laura's brow pinches. "I don't even know her fucking name."
It doesn't seem very fair. Not even a heads up that with all the fuckery that this boat does to the people on it, past people on the boat could have shown up in some capacity.
Then it occurs to her.
"You mean she came to resurrect me to get you your coin back."
UGH. She is so infuriating. Sweeney's body tenses, and he fights to get it to ebb.
"No." He forces the word through gritted teeth before he manages to unlock his jaw.
"She came back 'cause she couldn't bear the thought'a you out there, fallin' apart while she had the ability to make it right." Full stop. That's the truth. She would have, even if there was nothing in it for Sweeney. Because it was the Right Thing.
"You ne'er wondered how I knew 'bout you killin' Grimnir? 'Bout that cunt havin' my Coin? You fuckin' told her."
"Okay, but can you blame me for thinking it?" The question comes on the heels of his clenched jaw and frustration leaving her to react with nothing but a helpless shrug. "It was the first thing you asked me when I arrived."
But the basics didn't fucking matter. What mattered was that some other version of her got a bunch of information and now she was expected to somehow remember it. He was throwing stuff at her that didn't make sense.
"And now you expect me to act like it's all okay because she was fucking helping me?! I don't know who she fucking is! I've never met her in my life."
He had a talent for not answering questions and turning tables and it was exasperating trying to talk to him about any of this.
"No, it's--" Okay, so she has some really good points in there, and maybe he could have gone about this better.
"It's not what I'm tryin' ta say." Which is probably good, because whatever he's doing, he's shit at it. Sweeney takes a deep breath to center himself. He wets his lip and fixes his eyes on hers so she can feel the weight in his words.
"What I'm tryin' ta say is: she went back ta save you. But she couldn't."
Okay. Say it. It's important. She can hate you after.
"'Cause I already did."
The statement holds all that is left unspoken. The Baron told the truth. It was his blood that the gris gris needed. Yes, he knows what that means, and he isn't running from it.
That's what she likes so much about him; what took her too long to figure out and when she did it was too late. It was the fact he wasn't perfect or predictable and that he is broken and busted up on the inside just like her. But he couldn't see that and now she was desperately trying to hold onto something she felt destined to lose.
She stares ahead, eyes starting to line with emotion and when she finally has the courage to look back at him, he tells her -- acknowledges the one thing that had been a constant question mark over her head since it happened. Laura's brow ripples and a tear drops down into her lap. She nods, feeling something inside her chest release.
"Yeah, you did, And I lost you in the process."
Her own unspoken words tell him she's not sure she can go through that again.
It was a foolish thing to think in hindsight. Not only did she have no control over what happens to him, or even herself, for that matter, but she couldn't do anything about changing how things were left when they last saw each other.
Laura quickly wipes away another tear before trying to smile. "Just like you said you would. I'm sorry it didn't stick."
Then again, she wouldn't have ended up on the barge if it did. Maybe that's the reason she couldn't bring him back.
He manages a small smile to accent the gentle tease. Everything still feels so fragile, but there's a sense of quiet after the storm. Sweeney doesn't know if that means it's passed, or if he's just sitting in the eye of it.
"Would'a thought ya'd pay more attention while ya had me by the balls." Both literally and figuratively.
A soft snort in amusement has her agreeing, in the end. There are a lot of What If's and Maybe If I's, but going back to change things and that million-to-one rare chance meeting through that stupid coin most definitely would not have happened. She's still fighting about whether that would have been a good or bad thing and she can't help if he wonders that, too.
"Yeah, well you might want to consider marking your lucky coin so that you don't accidentally give it away," her own playful jest. Somehow she knows that once he graduates and cuts his own deal it will be back in his pocket in no time.
"I'll keep that in mind, when the time comes," he assures her with a tip of his head.
Okay. So now what?
There's a nervousness growing in his belly, and he isn't sure if it's meant to be good or bad. Maybe neither. Maybe both. All he knows is it increasingly uncomfortable. This would normally be the point where both of them would be down a layer of clothing, and they're not even touching. Yeah...Sweeney's not sure he likes this. But he's trying. Trying not to run. Trying not to do the Wrong Thing. Say the Wrong Thing.
Fuck, he sucks at this.
His gaze drops to where his closer knee presses against the couch.
"You wanna drink?"
Sweeney winces slightly at himself. Not great. Hopefully, not the worst. Only time will tell. And he's guessing it's going to do so in short order.
He looks as awkward and unsure as he did during the memory flood and it's not a good feeling. How did they go from that to being able to flirt and be cute to suddenly being weird and like any progress made went out the window? It was like the were starting at the beginning all over again. This must be why people were okay with choosing to be totally oblivious to certain stuff.
Laura presses her lips together. Not in a sad way, but something more understanding and she nods slightly. There were still so many questions but at this point, they all felt like ticking time bombs, waiting to explode and make an even bigger mess so she shakes her head.
"No, I think I'm okay," she replies quietly, looking at him for a brief few seconds and she can see it. Him trying. But she kind of felt like he was eager to be on his way so she tried her best to cut him loose without making him feel she was pushing him away. She takes a deep breath. "Without knowing how long you have, maybe you should go back and talk to her some more."
She's important to him. She had seen enough to know that.
Laura nods again. "What if this is the last time you'll see her?"
Then it will destroy him all over again, but at least this time he can believe she's safe and somewhere else, being free and herself. She doesn't need him to be happy, and her happiness is enough. Or, at least, something akin to it. And maybe he won't know he'll never see her again; he can just believe in the chance yet to be. Either way, it's not what he wants to be thinking about at the moment. But Laura's right; he does want to get back and not waste what little they have.
However, he doesn't want to waste this, either. He knows if he bolts in this moment, that it will undo all that's been said. Confessed. It'll only make things worse than they were when he walked through the door. Which is pretty fucking bad.
Sweeney takes a slow breath and slides off the couch. He doesn't rise, just shifts onto his knee so he can come to rest in front of her. His hand lifts, hoping to brush back an errant lock of hair while his thumb grazes her cheek, if she allows it. Either way, his gaze is fixed on her, and his voice is soft and sincere.
"I know I'm shit at this. I know I can't promise you anythin'. Only that I'm tryin'. I don't wanna do wrong by you." Not again.
"Please believe me." His hands lowers to take hers and gently guide it to press flat against his chest.
Nothing was ever certain, was it? No, Laura supposes not. The barge couldn't promise anyone, anything, just as she couldn't promise anyone, anything. Erik couldn't promise to see their plan through. Hancock couldn't promise he would stay after leaving. Sweeney couldn't be promised that he would ever see her again -- the woman whose name he still refuses to share. And although his words and his touch are meant to be reassuring, they are anything but.
She stares at her hand on his chest, realizing that his words were the nicest way he can think of to tell her that she's just not important enough. Everyone leaves eventually and he will too. But he can't know that she feels that way and she won't let him see the pain of her realizing how perfectly this mirrors that day when she came back to life and then had to grieve his loss on a bridge with what was left of him in a box.
Laura nods, schooling her expression into something totally and utterly believable.
"Okay," she gives him her best smile, appropriate, she thinks, for the conclusion of this talk. "I trust you."
Good. Trust is good, right? Maybe, for once, he did something right. Sweeney finds a small smile in return, something laced with tendrils of hope.
Trust. Right. Good.
It's a strange thing to feel like he's done Enough at all, especially for her. But he's good enough to do this one thing, to redeem himself in some small way. Not the whole course, obviously; there's so much dirt left above him. But at least there's a glimmer of light, one that wasn't there a minute ago.
His other hand lifts so he can cradle her head when he kisses her. It's not rough or wanton, but it's far from chaste. It's warm in a way that isn't hasty, isn't him running off. Just something that can nurture that hope to take root.
She feels numb, almost robotic in her movements and it takes everything in her to roll along with the bits of sentiment that he shows that somehow feels hurried even though it's not. Maybe it was because deep down she knows how eager he is to get out of there -- be free of whatever this is and get back to safe and familiar and comfortable. Laura can't fault him for that. At least he'll leave oblivious and happy and in hindsight, maybe it will help keep the topic of discussion off her, as she's sure it's come up already.
The kiss is nice, almost too soft for the things they've been up to and there's a flicker of desire that he'd claimed her mouth hard and fast just so she can feel whatever it is he's trying to convey. There are so many conflicting motions.
She gives him another smile, albeit a little more forced this time and nods again. At this point, she's feeling more and more like a bobblehead sitting on someone's car dash.
Something feels weird, even before he releases her. It's like she's not kissing him back. Or doesn't want to be. Was he supposed to be more passionate? Should they be fucking? Was he just supposed to leave? Sit on the couch and have playful banter?
Fuck.
Well, there had been one flickering moment when he thought he'd done something right, but he's on the other side of the slope, and the affect and silence definitely gives the vibe that she wants him to fuck off. Sweeney sits back, managing a small smile and an accepting nod before standing.
"A'right." Another a quick smile and bow of his head are offered, as if it would make things better again.
"Thank you." Rare words offered in utter sincerity.
"Fer yer trust."
Sweeney's not going to force her to sit there and nod at him more, so he turns and gets to the fucking off.
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Sweeney watches her light the cigarette, licking his lip in the phantom longing for the taste. But he errs against lighting his own, feeling it might complicate the conversation somehow. He isn't sure why, but he doesn't have a lot of extra energy for reflecting at the moment.
He assumes she asked for a reason, probably one related to fucking. As such, he let's the quiet settle again, in case she has a follow up.
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Laura takes another drag, and she leans forward, her right thumb slowly starting to spin the ring on her index finger. She peers up at him, curious if that was all he had to say.
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"That wasn't the only reason." It's a little difficult to admit, but it's clear he's making the effort, for her. He'd very much like to move past this particular topic, if only because there's very little to say on it in regards to what actually happened between the two of them. But he also knows if he pushes past it, it's likely to get Laura's hackles up.
"She wasn't lookin' fer that kind of relationship." He wets his lips.
"'s far as I'm aware, she still isn't."
And that's the truth.
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And then something unexpected slips out.
"Much like you aren't, right?"
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"I already have that." An intimate sexual relationship that goes well beyond simple fucking and uncomfortably into the realm of 'he doesn't want to think about what it means because the answer would force him to acknowledge some shit'.
"With you."
Or, at least, he thought he did. With that 'breach overlap', he's starting to feel less confident about it.
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"Yes, we are," she confirms, looking at him so he can see that she speaking genuinely. "I meant a deeper relationship with love and all that. That's what she prefers that you don't?"
Was that question any better? She wasn't too sure about that.
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But then she continues, and his expression sinks, along with his shoulders. Alright.
"No. She ain't lookin' fer that either."
Sweeney would rather not go into Swamp Rat's life, out of respect, but he's getting the feeling the more respectful he tries to be to one, the more the other dwells. At least, that had been how it seemed earlier.
"Some bad experiences soured her on the notion."
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She catches his expression and the way his shoulders drop and Laura tries to keep an understanding look on her face, only she can't help but let a few tells slip; her eyes, the fidgeting with her ring that she keeps spinning faster as things become harder to parse and the way she swallows thickly.
"Does that disappoint you? That she isn't looking for something deeper?"
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"An' what does it matter if it did?" His head tilts. "Do ya wanna talk 'bout my wife, too?" Others he misses. Wants to see again. Wants to atone for.
He doesn't give her time to answer, inhaling sharply and diverting the path at a steep angle, but with an intended direction.
"The second time I spoke with her, we talked of Moral Codes. I told her 'bout what I'd left undone. 'Bout how I'd wronged you in not seein' you properly restored." And my Coin back in my pocket.
"The moment she found out, ya know what she did? She made it her sole fuckin' purpose ta get back ta you an' resurrect you. That weren't outta care fer me; that was outta care fer you."
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She stabs the cigarette butt into the ashtray with a little more force than she would have if they were just talking about random shit and bites at her bottom lip. No, she didn't like how he was talking to her. Sweeney was giving her information she never asked for but he felt spurred to tell her. Why? To hold some kind of resentment toward her because of ALL the things she presumably- wait.
"So she knows about me?" Laura's brow pinches. "I don't even know her fucking name."
It doesn't seem very fair. Not even a heads up that with all the fuckery that this boat does to the people on it, past people on the boat could have shown up in some capacity.
Then it occurs to her.
"You mean she came to resurrect me to get you your coin back."
Laura gets it and nods. I understand now.
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"No." He forces the word through gritted teeth before he manages to unlock his jaw.
"She came back 'cause she couldn't bear the thought'a you out there, fallin' apart while she had the ability to make it right." Full stop. That's the truth. She would have, even if there was nothing in it for Sweeney. Because it was the Right Thing.
"You ne'er wondered how I knew 'bout you killin' Grimnir? 'Bout that cunt havin' my Coin? You fuckin' told her."
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But the basics didn't fucking matter. What mattered was that some other version of her got a bunch of information and now she was expected to somehow remember it. He was throwing stuff at her that didn't make sense.
"And now you expect me to act like it's all okay because she was fucking helping me?! I don't know who she fucking is! I've never met her in my life."
He had a talent for not answering questions and turning tables and it was exasperating trying to talk to him about any of this.
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"It's not what I'm tryin' ta say." Which is probably good, because whatever he's doing, he's shit at it. Sweeney takes a deep breath to center himself. He wets his lip and fixes his eyes on hers so she can feel the weight in his words.
"What I'm tryin' ta say is: she went back ta save you. But she couldn't."
Okay. Say it. It's important. She can hate you after.
"'Cause I already did."
The statement holds all that is left unspoken. The Baron told the truth. It was his blood that the gris gris needed. Yes, he knows what that means, and he isn't running from it.
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She stares ahead, eyes starting to line with emotion and when she finally has the courage to look back at him, he tells her -- acknowledges the one thing that had been a constant question mark over her head since it happened. Laura's brow ripples and a tear drops down into her lap. She nods, feeling something inside her chest release.
"Yeah, you did, And I lost you in the process."
Her own unspoken words tell him she's not sure she can go through that again.
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"An' it was worth it." Even if his dumb ass still hasn't figured it all out. The revelation is only a few hours old.
"Ta make things Right."
To save you.
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Laura quickly wipes away another tear before trying to smile. "Just like you said you would. I'm sorry it didn't stick."
Then again, she wouldn't have ended up on the barge if it did. Maybe that's the reason she couldn't bring him back.
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He manages a small smile to accent the gentle tease. Everything still feels so fragile, but there's a sense of quiet after the storm. Sweeney doesn't know if that means it's passed, or if he's just sitting in the eye of it.
"Would'a thought ya'd pay more attention while ya had me by the balls." Both literally and figuratively.
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"Yeah, well you might want to consider marking your lucky coin so that you don't accidentally give it away," her own playful jest. Somehow she knows that once he graduates and cuts his own deal it will be back in his pocket in no time.
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Okay. So now what?
There's a nervousness growing in his belly, and he isn't sure if it's meant to be good or bad. Maybe neither. Maybe both. All he knows is it increasingly uncomfortable. This would normally be the point where both of them would be down a layer of clothing, and they're not even touching. Yeah...Sweeney's not sure he likes this. But he's trying. Trying not to run. Trying not to do the Wrong Thing. Say the Wrong Thing.
Fuck, he sucks at this.
His gaze drops to where his closer knee presses against the couch.
"You wanna drink?"
Sweeney winces slightly at himself. Not great. Hopefully, not the worst. Only time will tell. And he's guessing it's going to do so in short order.
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Laura presses her lips together. Not in a sad way, but something more understanding and she nods slightly. There were still so many questions but at this point, they all felt like ticking time bombs, waiting to explode and make an even bigger mess so she shakes her head.
"No, I think I'm okay," she replies quietly, looking at him for a brief few seconds and she can see it. Him trying. But she kind of felt like he was eager to be on his way so she tried her best to cut him loose without making him feel she was pushing him away. She takes a deep breath. "Without knowing how long you have, maybe you should go back and talk to her some more."
She's important to him. She had seen enough to know that.
Laura nods again. "What if this is the last time you'll see her?"
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However, he doesn't want to waste this, either. He knows if he bolts in this moment, that it will undo all that's been said. Confessed. It'll only make things worse than they were when he walked through the door. Which is pretty fucking bad.
Sweeney takes a slow breath and slides off the couch. He doesn't rise, just shifts onto his knee so he can come to rest in front of her. His hand lifts, hoping to brush back an errant lock of hair while his thumb grazes her cheek, if she allows it. Either way, his gaze is fixed on her, and his voice is soft and sincere.
"I know I'm shit at this. I know I can't promise you anythin'. Only that I'm tryin'. I don't wanna do wrong by you." Not again.
"Please believe me." His hands lowers to take hers and gently guide it to press flat against his chest.
"Please believe this."
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She stares at her hand on his chest, realizing that his words were the nicest way he can think of to tell her that she's just not important enough. Everyone leaves eventually and he will too. But he can't know that she feels that way and she won't let him see the pain of her realizing how perfectly this mirrors that day when she came back to life and then had to grieve his loss on a bridge with what was left of him in a box.
Laura nods, schooling her expression into something totally and utterly believable.
"Okay," she gives him her best smile, appropriate, she thinks, for the conclusion of this talk. "I trust you."
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Trust. Right. Good.
It's a strange thing to feel like he's done Enough at all, especially for her. But he's good enough to do this one thing, to redeem himself in some small way. Not the whole course, obviously; there's so much dirt left above him. But at least there's a glimmer of light, one that wasn't there a minute ago.
His other hand lifts so he can cradle her head when he kisses her. It's not rough or wanton, but it's far from chaste. It's warm in a way that isn't hasty, isn't him running off. Just something that can nurture that hope to take root.
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The kiss is nice, almost too soft for the things they've been up to and there's a flicker of desire that he'd claimed her mouth hard and fast just so she can feel whatever it is he's trying to convey. There are so many conflicting motions.
She gives him another smile, albeit a little more forced this time and nods again. At this point, she's feeling more and more like a bobblehead sitting on someone's car dash.
Please, just go.
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Fuck.
Well, there had been one flickering moment when he thought he'd done something right, but he's on the other side of the slope, and the affect and silence definitely gives the vibe that she wants him to fuck off. Sweeney sits back, managing a small smile and an accepting nod before standing.
"A'right." Another a quick smile and bow of his head are offered, as if it would make things better again.
"Thank you." Rare words offered in utter sincerity.
"Fer yer trust."
Sweeney's not going to force her to sit there and nod at him more, so he turns and gets to the fucking off.
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