The moment Raylan's second message had come through, Sweeney excused himself from Maggie's company. She'd be fine; she has other people. But Laura... This isn't something he'd trust to Roman, even if he could entertain the idea of not going. Which he can't. He's out the door and down the hall, tugging his shirt over his shoulders without bothering to button it. Sweeney doesn't expect to stay in it.
Then he's at her threshold, his eyes dancing over the door as he suddenly realizes he has no idea what he's supposed to do. How do you say 'I'm sorry you're hurting because a man you loved in another life is leaving you behind'? No part of that is bearable.
She tried. So hard. But it only took a few minutes after Raylan left before Laura broke in a way that she never ever expected herself to. Emotion was something always prided herself on being able to control; her thick skin being the single most useful quality of hers that got her through everything shitty in her life.
Mostly.
Laura cried and struggled with what she was feeling, only drawing on the all too real memories of a life that came damn close to being perfect. Only to realize it was just a reminder that she was never worthy of love like that. Or any kind of love for that matter.
After spending some time in her bathroom washing her face, Laura heard the knock. For a moment she thought about not answering it, but then she found herself opening it and staring at him with glassy eyes, somehow knowing why he's there.
"He tell you, too?" Laura asks, her voice breaking softly. She nods when he gives her the confirmation. "I feel like such an idiot.."
Of all the pain he's been shoveling on top of the rest, the sight of her gouges him unexpectedly. She looks so much...smaller. Fragile. Something he never expected, and he doesn't know how to understand. But he has the overwhelming impulse to comfort her. Unfortunately, Sweeney's toolbox isn't very diverse.
He bends to kiss her, firmly but without lust. It's something seeking connection, so they both can know they're not alone in this. Sweeney cups her neck, but doesn't linger in the kiss. Breaking it, he presses his forehead to hers.
"Me too," he whispers. A long moment lets the weight of it sink in, but then he curls further to scoop her up and knock the door shut with his boot. Although he's crossing to the bed, there's no hint of wantonness. He doesn't seek her lips or pluck at her clothes; he just wants to hold her close.
For the moment, Laura only thinks about herself. At least until he agrees with her and she remembers how much longer Sweeney has been on the barge. How many people he's seen come and go. Really, at this point, she has to wonder if there's any point in even trying to connect with people anymore.
Of course, he's different. Always has been. Laura's lost him before and her brain likes to remind her in all kinds of ways of how she can lose him again. At least when he kisses her, all of those fears are temporarily whisked away by his desire to protect her from those worries. God, she appreciates him for that.
Her face nestles inwards against his neck, and when they reach the foot of the bed, Laura pulls her arm across to his other shoulder and holds him tightly. "I'm sorry you lost your friend."
He's got one knee on the bed when she speaks, and it gives him pause. Sweeney wants to deny it; to buck against the name of the thing and say that's not what it was. But to do that would be a lie. And he doesn't want to do that to her, even if he could.
"Me too," he whispers, nudging at her in a faint nuzzle.
Sweeney's chest hurts. He's not sure if it's better or worse with her, here and now. But it's different than when he'd held Maggie so recently. Maybe he's just tired. Maybe she let's him be tired. Broken. Let's him sit down and not have to put on the face of 'it's just another challenge, own it and rise above; you'll get there someday'. He doesn't let himself want to stop; to give up and sit down and wait; but at the end of the day, that's because she's here. If he did, people would move on. Maggie would get an Inmate who could actually save her world. Someone else would pick up Inventory and gardening and...whatever else it is that he does. But Sweeney can't bear the thought of leaving her here. Alone. Especially now that Raylan's gone. No, he wouldn't willingly do that to her.
But she'd understand.
She's been in that hot tub, bug spray in hand. She knows what it's like when that's the best option. But it isn't. Not now. Not while she's here and at risk.
A quick swallow gets him refocused, and he continues onto the bed. Sweeney doesn't lay her out; he just awkwardly crawls and twists to sit with his back against the wall and her curled up in his lap.
"I'm sorry you lost..." Whatever he was. More than a friend, without question. "...someone precious." It's not self-deprecating, just honest empathy.
"There ain't fillin' a hold made like that." He still holds Tiffany's, even when he does his best not to think on it. How do you recover from losing the love of your life? Even if it isn't this one.
Like him, Laura finds herself wanting to deny that Raylan was anything more to her; the word somehow too meaningful and beyond what she's capable of seeing in people.But then Sweeney has to mention what she sort of already knew and suddenly there was a desire to hide from him and any emotion that threatened to give away how she was truly feeling. The last thing she wants to do is look vulnerable.
In the end, she's thankful it's not him. Things would be so much worse if it was.
Once he'd stops moving, Laura settles against him, the side of her face pressed softly against the top part of his chest. A momentary silence falls and finally she looks up.
"The shittiest part is that I'm pretty sure he doesn't plan to come back," Laura says quietly. The notion makes her a little angry because then Raylan lied. At which point, she wonders if she's an idiot for letting herself hurt for someone who told her something that wasn't true because it made leaving easier.
Sweeney doesn't answer right away, stealing a moment for a slow breath. He wants to tell her that worry is unfounded, that of course Raylan intends to come back--that he will be back. But that's a lie, or at least a sugar-coasted fairytale, and one not meant for her consumption.
"I don't know," he whispers, in empathy, not counter. "Either way, I think he doesn't wanna hurt you, e'en though he knew he would. Did." Even with him still here, part of him was already missing. It'd been that way with Tiffany too, when she'd said she was leaving. Sweeney nuzzles into her hair.
"I know, it dunn't make it hurt less." A lull hangs. Now what? He does his best.
"I'm not sure either of us know what we need, but I'm plannin' ta stay like this 'til we got another idea." Or they get hungry or something. But he's willing to skip work for her, if he happens to be here that long.
Laura knows Raylan wouldn't want to hurt her. She also knows that his reasons are solid enough and she's the one being selfish by wanting him to stay. Of course, it wouldn't be just for her. There were others who he meant something to, perhaps more than she can comprehend because he's a first for her. As reluctant as she was towards that idea.
She listens to his voice through his chest and runs through all the things she wants to do aside from be upset and let rage build inside her over not being able to control how she feels about Raylan leaving. As far as she's concerned, he's gone. He disappeared the moment she closed the door behind him once he'd taken his leave.
How many times is it fair to draw out a good-bye?
"I don't want to give myself any reason to think about it anymore," she replies a moment later, her tone evident with twinge of ire and defiance. Her hand smooths up under his over-shirt and fingers curl over one shoulder before wrapping around the side of his neck. She looks up at him. "Can you help me with that?"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
After Raylan's Visit
Then he's at her threshold, his eyes dancing over the door as he suddenly realizes he has no idea what he's supposed to do. How do you say 'I'm sorry you're hurting because a man you loved in another life is leaving you behind'? No part of that is bearable.
But it doesn't stop him from knocking.
Re: After Raylan's Visit
Mostly.
Laura cried and struggled with what she was feeling, only drawing on the all too real memories of a life that came damn close to being perfect. Only to realize it was just a reminder that she was never worthy of love like that. Or any kind of love for that matter.
After spending some time in her bathroom washing her face, Laura heard the knock. For a moment she thought about not answering it, but then she found herself opening it and staring at him with glassy eyes, somehow knowing why he's there.
"He tell you, too?" Laura asks, her voice breaking softly. She nods when he gives her the confirmation. "I feel like such an idiot.."
For allowing him to make me feel any of this.
Re: After Raylan's Visit
He bends to kiss her, firmly but without lust. It's something seeking connection, so they both can know they're not alone in this. Sweeney cups her neck, but doesn't linger in the kiss. Breaking it, he presses his forehead to hers.
"Me too," he whispers. A long moment lets the weight of it sink in, but then he curls further to scoop her up and knock the door shut with his boot. Although he's crossing to the bed, there's no hint of wantonness. He doesn't seek her lips or pluck at her clothes; he just wants to hold her close.
no subject
Of course, he's different. Always has been. Laura's lost him before and her brain likes to remind her in all kinds of ways of how she can lose him again. At least when he kisses her, all of those fears are temporarily whisked away by his desire to protect her from those worries. God, she appreciates him for that.
Her face nestles inwards against his neck, and when they reach the foot of the bed, Laura pulls her arm across to his other shoulder and holds him tightly. "I'm sorry you lost your friend."
cw: suicidal ideation
"Me too," he whispers, nudging at her in a faint nuzzle.
Sweeney's chest hurts. He's not sure if it's better or worse with her, here and now. But it's different than when he'd held Maggie so recently. Maybe he's just tired. Maybe she let's him be tired. Broken. Let's him sit down and not have to put on the face of 'it's just another challenge, own it and rise above; you'll get there someday'. He doesn't let himself want to stop; to give up and sit down and wait; but at the end of the day, that's because she's here. If he did, people would move on. Maggie would get an Inmate who could actually save her world. Someone else would pick up Inventory and gardening and...whatever else it is that he does. But Sweeney can't bear the thought of leaving her here. Alone. Especially now that Raylan's gone. No, he wouldn't willingly do that to her.
But she'd understand.
She's been in that hot tub, bug spray in hand. She knows what it's like when that's the best option. But it isn't. Not now. Not while she's here and at risk.
A quick swallow gets him refocused, and he continues onto the bed. Sweeney doesn't lay her out; he just awkwardly crawls and twists to sit with his back against the wall and her curled up in his lap.
"I'm sorry you lost..." Whatever he was. More than a friend, without question. "...someone precious." It's not self-deprecating, just honest empathy.
"There ain't fillin' a hold made like that." He still holds Tiffany's, even when he does his best not to think on it. How do you recover from losing the love of your life? Even if it isn't this one.
no subject
In the end, she's thankful it's not him. Things would be so much worse if it was.
Once he'd stops moving, Laura settles against him, the side of her face pressed softly against the top part of his chest. A momentary silence falls and finally she looks up.
"The shittiest part is that I'm pretty sure he doesn't plan to come back," Laura says quietly. The notion makes her a little angry because then Raylan lied. At which point, she wonders if she's an idiot for letting herself hurt for someone who told her something that wasn't true because it made leaving easier.
no subject
"I don't know," he whispers, in empathy, not counter. "Either way, I think he doesn't wanna hurt you, e'en though he knew he would. Did." Even with him still here, part of him was already missing. It'd been that way with Tiffany too, when she'd said she was leaving. Sweeney nuzzles into her hair.
"I know, it dunn't make it hurt less." A lull hangs. Now what? He does his best.
"I'm not sure either of us know what we need, but I'm plannin' ta stay like this 'til we got another idea." Or they get hungry or something. But he's willing to skip work for her, if he happens to be here that long.
"As long as ya like."
no subject
She listens to his voice through his chest and runs through all the things she wants to do aside from be upset and let rage build inside her over not being able to control how she feels about Raylan leaving. As far as she's concerned, he's gone. He disappeared the moment she closed the door behind him once he'd taken his leave.
How many times is it fair to draw out a good-bye?
"I don't want to give myself any reason to think about it anymore," she replies a moment later, her tone evident with twinge of ire and defiance. Her hand smooths up under his over-shirt and fingers curl over one shoulder before wrapping around the side of his neck. She looks up at him. "Can you help me with that?"