errantechoes | (no subject)

Raylan's eyes narrowed, different from the squint before. It was more focused and directed, scrutinizing Tim after those words. Rolling them around in his head and matching them up with what stood before him. He looked less and less pleased. When he'd been a marshal, he would have just left it be. What Tim did on his own time was his own business then. They were just colleagues. But since being turned, his emotions were harder to push down when they managed to reach the surface. And it wasn't jealous or anger he was feeling. It was a strange sort of protective urge. Beyond just wanting to have the guy's back. Perhaps what they'd done shifted that, or maybe it was that Tim was the only person he enjoyed feeding on. Or maybe it was the fact that he hadn't fed properly since their night in the motel.

It all seemed to fall together at once. Tim looking off, his cagey behavior. If he wasn't drinking--which Raylan would be able to smell--there were few things he could be doing to make him like this. On a hunch, his hand snapped out, to pull Tim's collar aside.

Edited 2015-04-16 06:08 (UTC)

Tim tensed, but that was all he had time to do. Raylan was fast, and not even Tim's well refined reflexes could trump vampire speed. Honestly, even if he'd had the chance to stop Raylan, he probably wouldn't have. The impending fight was inevitable, so they might as well get it over with. The faster they lectured and argued and fought, the faster Tim could go home and get drunk. Or go out and find somebody to feed on him, just to be spiteful.

Just below the edge of his collar were the marks, three sets of them, all in various states of healing. They weren't too close together, mostly scattered a bit above his collarbone. One of them looked rougher, awfully bruised, and it was hard to tell if it was just the freshest, or if whoever had left it just hadn't been concerned with being gentle. Tim tore his gaze from the spot over Raylan's shoulder to his face, arching a fairly unimpressed brow. "You satisfied now?"

For a moment, anger and irritation evaporated from Raylan's expression, replaced with a concern bordering on horror. If he weren't already so pale, the color would have drained from his face. He'd expected to find evidence of one bite. But three? There was reckless, but then there was downright stupid. By the state of them, especially that bruised one, it looked as through Tim wasn't trying to be even remotely careful.

The anger rushed back in, a concerned sort of fury. "You wanna get yourself killed?" His tone was dangerously low with a harsh edge. "One I could understand, but three?! You're a goddamn idiot, you know that?!"

Tim could only be so careful, given the nature of what he was doing. But he was as careful as he could be and needed to be. He was an army vet, Ranger trained, with a handful of sharply refined skills and a loaded weapon; he had faith in his own abilities to fend off anything that was unwanted. So far, he hadn't needed to. He was fine. And not at all in the mood to get yelled at.

His jaw tightened, expression shifting from unimpressed to annoyed. He knocked Raylan's hand away and shoved him back, putting some much needed distance between them. "I don't need a god damn lecture, I know what I'm doin'," Tim said, his voice just as low and sharp as Raylan's was. "I told you. It's none of your business."

There was so much Raylan hadn't shared with Tim or anyone else in the marshal's service. There was so much about vampires that humans simply didn't know. Part of it by decree of higher powers and strictly enforced. Some of it out of necessity. Part of it was that Raylan was still learning so much himself. Boyd held those secrets very close to the vest, only sharing things when necessary. But he made it clear that there was so much Raylan still didn't know about this world. And even with what he did know, there was no way Tim could be safe on his own. No amount of training could help him unless he had wood or silver. And even then, he was doomed if the vampire was up close and personal. No human could beat a vampire on pure reflexes.

Raylan's jaw worked, his lips pressing into a thin line as his nostrils flared. He let out an audible breath, trying to contain his irritation. Slowly, it faded, and he seemed like he might let it go. But then he remembered one detail he'd learned only recently. "None of them gave you their blood, did they?" His words were suddenly sharp, barely masking concern. "And I mean even a single drop."

Honestly, the question took him by surprise. He was expecting Raylan to stay angry. He was expecting an argument, a fight, one that neither of them were likely to win, because neither of them ever did. That was why they always argued again when they met back up. It wasn't like it was a lot of individual arguments — it was one long one that never quite got finished. But for once, he wasn't looking for a fight. He didn't want a reason to get combative. He didn't think he had the patience for it tonight. Maybe the bites had drained him more than he originally thought.

He frowned, his eyes narrowing a little. "Why?" he asked. The answer was no, of course, and he'd tell Raylan as much. Just as soon as he heard why it was that Raylan was so concerned about it.

Most of those unending arguments they seemed to be have could be resolved if either one of them could just own up to the real reasons for the disagreements. But that would require either one of them admitting to their true emotions, and that was about as likely as squeezing blood from a stone. Or at the very least, one of them would have to be marginally less stubborn or sarcastic. Which was even more unlikely.

Raylan was still incredibly close to Tim, not exactly looming, but using every bit of his extra height to his advantage. He obviously didn't intend to back out of Tim's personal space any time soon. "It don't matter why. Did they or didn't they?!" His ire was making it difficult to resist the deputy being so very close. Because it was hard enough to remember he wouldn't be feeding just yet. This week was different.

Tim was more likely to walk into a gunfight without his vest than ever admit to Raylan what his problems really were. And, really, that was only a slight exaggeration. There were a lot of problems with sharing his feelings, and at least half of it had to do with how much worse this case could get fucked up because of them. There were other things, too, more personal things Tim never cared to touch down on, not even to himself.

He wasn't backing down. Raylan was taller and since being turned, he was faster and stronger, too, but generally speaking, Tim's self-preservation instincts tended to be lacking. As a matter of fact, Tim stepped even closer, glaring up at Raylan right back. Just being close to him made Tim's skin crawl in the most needy way, and he tried his hardest to ignore it. "Tell me why."

Raylan tilted his head slightly, not quite meeting Tim's gaze. Almost, but not quite. Like he'd look at the deputy's eyebrows, or cheeks, but no closer than that. This wasn't out of any sort of shame or hesitation, just that he knew if he did, it would break some sort of barrier inside him. It would break the wall that held back all that he shoved away and didn't want to think about. No matter which aspect came rushing out, it would have him pinning Tim against the nearest wall, and he just couldn't do that right now.

His lips pressed together tighter and he let out an audible huff through his nose. He was not at all pleased with the fact that Tim wasn't just answering. If he told, he was certain Boyd would have his hide. And if he held his tongue, there was no telling what hell would rain down upon him. "Because it's important," he said, his words pointed and direct. As if that was all that needed to be said.

Tim didn't step any closer (he couldn't, really, with how close they were already), but he did seem to lean in a bit, chin tilting upwards so he could look at Raylan more properly. He suddenly felt like he was right back at that line again, the blurry one they'd crossed last week, and all he wanted to do now was toe it. He wanted to see how much he could push before he either got shut down or what he wanted. And it was what he wanted, not what he needed. He didn't need the bite. He wanted Raylan pressing against him and touching him and biting him.

God, that was terrifying.

He wasn't bothered by Raylan's irritation. It just meant he was more likely to lose his temper, and Tim thought that maybe that was what he wanted. Or close to it, anyway. He kept his expression unimpressed, brows arching. "That's not a real answer," he accused. He wasn't even sure he cared about the why anymore (he did, just more distantly than before), not with how distracted he'd gotten by Raylan standing so close.

They weren't just at the line. They were right on top of it. Raylan could feel it, like standing at the very edge of a cliff. That the smallest move could send him tumbling into something from which he'd never return. And yet he couldn't stop his wandering gaze, dipping down toward Tim's throat. Trying to check the bite marks, he wanted to tell himself, but there was no denying that feeling in his gut. He wanted to step off that cliff.

"I need to know before I can tell you," he stressed, his tone continuing to be sharp and direct. If Tim was enthralled to another, it was likely he wouldn't even be here, but Raylan had to be certain. Besides, he couldn't just back down. That would mean stepping back from that edge.

Edited 2015-05-05 21:35 (UTC)

Tim didn't miss the way Raylan's gaze wandered, and it was only because he was so damn good at keeping his expression so stoic that he didn't smirk. It might've shown in his eyes though, just a little. He swallowed hard, purposely, just to make the muscles in his throat flex. He wanted to taunt Raylan into making the first move.

Objectively, Tim was aware that the conversation they were having was a serious one, and Raylan was wanting the answer to a serious question for a serious reason, and as a responsible, functioning adult, Tim should've been cooperating more and seeking answers himself. But that would mean backing away from the edge, and he didn't want to do that either. "Why can't you just tell me first?" he asked, matching Raylan for all his stubbornness.

That swallow, that flex. For a fleeting moment, that simple movement took up all of Raylan's focus. Lips parted he let out a soft, slow breath, his eyes tracing the vein he could see, faintly beneath the skin. It took every ounce of effort he had to hold himself back for that single moment. His entire world was that single swallow and Tim's pulse.

But those words dragged him back to the real world, and he remembered how irritated he was. Lips pressed firmly together, he lifted his chin, looking Tim in the eye. That distraction had fled completely, now he was focused. Intently. On how Tim was avoiding the question. "Just answer the damn question, Gutterson." He planted both hands on his hips. "Did they give you their blood or not."

For just a second, Tim thought he had him. Thought he had managed to entice Raylan into giving him what he wanted without having to say it. He watched quietly, almost eagerly, as Raylan's slips parted, as he stared at the muscles flexing in his neck. But then in the next second, the vampire snapped out of it, and Tim was left disappointed.

Disappointed, but not entirely deterred. Raylan was stubborn and Tim was patient. They could be out here all night if one of them didn't give in. "Why do you care?" Tim asked, and at this point, he was just being antagonizing. "Concerned about my well-bein', Givens? Don't be."

Usually, Raylan would just keep pushing until Tim gave up. Or feign indifference until he either spoke or gave up. But this wasn't something he could just let slide. Tim's insistence on not answering had Raylan paranoid. Did one of Boyd's crew have him enthralled? Was it some other clan? Anyone could be using the other deputy as a spy. Or worse.

He stepped back, giving a small shake of his head with one of those incredibly, disapporiving frowns of his. "Who said it had to be your well-bein' I'm worried about?"

Tim didn't believe him. Or maybe (and probably more accurately) he didn't want to believe him. He would've liked to believe that that was what this was about-- Raylan being concerned over Tim's well being. Wishful thinking, probably, that the whole thing meant as much to Raylan as it did to him.

He really needed to stop doing that. He'd end up getting himself hurt. Like he did in the motel that night.

Tim was ready to back down. Raylan wasn't going to give up, so he would. Just so he could get out of here faster, so he wouldn't have to see Raylan's face. "No," he said, lifting his gaze to look Raylan in the eye. "I didn't take any of their blood. Now tell me why you needed to know so damn bad."

Of course Raylan cared about Tim's well being. He was a good marshal, and at least a decent friend. And he was definitely one of the last true allies Raylan had left. One of the last things holding him to his humanity. Because without that, there'd be nothing to stop him from giving in. From ripping out Boyd's throat and handling things his own way. Because with the undead, the basic laws started to break down.

You couldn't go away for murder when the man you killed was already dead.

It was just that admitting such a thing to Tim was difficult, because he couldn't even admit it to himself. He was still a good man trying to do the right thing.

All at once he turned, snapping at Tim. "Cause if they'd given it to ya, it means you belong to them." He pointed first at Tim, then at the window as if to indicate the whole outside world. "And if I go feedin' on you," pointing at himself, "they got reason to do a whole lotta awful shit to me that you don't wanna know." And that was just the start of all of the possibilities.

Tim didn't even flinch. Not at Raylan's volume or the sharpness to his words or what he was saying. He was used to the kind of rage Raylan possessed. He was used to much worse than it, too. So he listened, unblinking and unwavering, his expression drawn into its usual blank poker face.

Once Raylan finished, Tim spoke up, his voice very calm and quiet compared to the other's. "That would've been really nice to know before all this shit started."

He was annoyed. Annoyed that the service had a vampire CI that was keeping shit from them. Important shit, too, because anything that had to do with how vampires worked, the sorts of powers and abilities they had, was fucking important. It made him wonder what else Raylan was keeping from them.

However, in light of this news, Tim was going to be more careful. He wasn't going to stop, but cut back, maybe. Be a little more cautious than he had been.

Raylan seemed to just sort of shut down for a moment. Not the blank stare sort of involuntary shut down. But a forced shut down. His lips screwed tightly together and he bowed his head, glaring intently at a spot on the floor near Tim's feet. The look he got when he knew he was going to say something he really shouldn't.

Slowly, he lifted his head, lips still a thin, pale line. He still needed a moment, forcing out a hard breath through his nose.

"Cause if even half this shit got out, do you know what the hell kinda mess you'd have to deal with?" He took a slow step back toward Tim. "You want every nut job out there claimin' 'vampires made me do it' and not bein' able to disprove it?"

Unlike Raylan, Tim wasn't a very angry person. He didn't have much of a temper, and was more likely to become exasperated or vaguely annoyed than angry. What little temper he did have didn't flare up very often, or very big.

But irritation flickered inside of him at Raylan's words, the quiet flames of anger making him clench his jaw.

"That was somethin' that we needed to know," he said, and his tone snapped more than usual. 'We' being the marshal's service, not the general population. If they were going to take down Boyd, they needed to know everything. They needed to be aware of everything. If they were going to do this, they couldn't have a blind spot.

"I needed to know that." Because being fed on was dangerous enough as it was, let alone when he wasn't aware of all the risks.

Raylan just continued to stare at Tim, lips returning to that hard-set line. His chin jutted out as he once again reigned in a very unkind set of words that had no place in polite society. He rolled his shoulders, trying to settle himself so he could speak again.

"When you showed up for the first day of basic trainin', did ya have all the skills you got now?" He tilted his head as he said it. "Did you have all the knowledge and information that you've got now? Cause that's what it's like, Gutterson. I didn't wake up one night and with all the answers. I'm learnin' it as they see fit to tell me." Or as he sees fit to beat it out of people. But that was a matter of perspective. "So how 'bout you dial it back just a bit?"

Tim took a slow, deep breath and unclenched his jaw, staring at a spot on the wall just over Raylan's shoulder. Look. This was him dialing it back. It was official: he liked Raylan better when he was alive. Somehow, he was less annoying then.

After a moment, he directed his gaze back to Raylan, any irritation completely erased from his face. Not because he wasn't irritated, but because he had a really great poker face.

"Is there anything else you're not tellin' me?" he asked. Just to be sure. Also since that was the entire reason they were meeting up in the first place. So Raylan could pass along information. Which definitely included shit about how vampires worked.

There was plenty that Raylan wasn't saying. Like how hungry he was getting. How this argument wasn't helping at all. How every single beat of Tim's heart was driving him mad. How he couldn't stop thinking of what it felt like when they'd been pressed against each other in bed...

But it was more that he was refusing to admit to any of that to himself, than not wanting to tell Tim. There might have been a detail or two he'd not told about Boyd or vampires in general. But right now, sorting out what he'd told from what he hadn't was getting rather difficult. Thought in general was breaking down. This conversation just needed to be done. He needed to be somewhere less open.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, a sharp edge to his tone, his gaze dipping to those marks on Tim's neck. Then something shifted in him. A door closing. A resignation. "I'll send a formal report." He moved to step around Tim so he could leave.

Tim put a hand on Raylan's chest to stop him, to keep him from walking past. He knew very well that if Raylan didn't want to be stopped or pushed back, he was more than capable of of continuing on his way, physically speaking. He could easily overpower Tim, despite Tim's extensive military training.

The thought was way more erotic and arousing than it should've been, but most things were for Tim.

Raylan's chest remained still under his palm, Tim noted. There was no heartbeat, no breathing, and he didn't think that will ever stop being eerie to him, no matter how many vampires he encountered. But he didn't pull his hand away. He glanced up at Raylan.

"This how it's always gonna be?" he asked. "Somethin' happens that you don't like so you pitch a fit about it? How's that been workin' for you?"

Edited (fucking tense changes) 2015-12-28 04:38 (UTC)

Raylan's gaze dropped to the hand on his chest, then shot up to Tim's face, eyebrows raised. He'd halted at the touch, but he was very clearly not pleased with Tim's forwardness. It was a challenge. Intentionally pushing Raylan. Or that's how he saw it. Something in there about Tim feeling powerless and needing to assert himself. Raylan didn't feel much in the mood to analyze the hows and whys of it, he just knew it irritated him.

There was another thing that he hadn't told the marshals about. Something major that he'd known from the start. It was one thing to have a vampire's blood in one's system. They were painfully loyal if the vampire willed it so, among other rather irritating aspects. It turned unwitting humans into very useful spies. But what he'd never mentioned before was the ability to compel people, which more or less worked the opposite way. It was far easier for a vampire to work his will on someone he'd fed from.

So he looked Tim dead in the eye. His pupils dilated slightly, red slowly creeping in from the corners of his eyes. Not unlike when he started to lose control when angry or hungry. Then he simply said, "Sit down," and gestured toward a chair. He needed Tim to know how dangerous all of this was. Why freely associating with vampires in such an intimate way had Raylan on edge.