abrightboy: (pays attention)
[personal profile] abrightboy
The killer was moving around the country. Malcolm Bright could see the pattern, but he wasn't working for the FBI these days and they weren't exactly taking his calls. Short sighted of them, but they did fire him on suspicion of being crazy. The NYPD's jurisdiction was New York. With the killer beyond its borders, they handed it upwards and left it at that.

Let it go, Bright, had been Gil's sage advice. You can't catch every killer in America single-handedly.

Challenge accepted, some part of him retorted, though he'd only nodded mutely and forced a smile. Gil knew he hadn't simply let it go, but he wasn't going to have him followed to stop him doing anything stupid, either. He didn't have the will or the resources to keep tabs on Malcolm Bright 24/7 and Malcolm Bright knew it.

His mother, on the other hand, had extensive resources, so he simply didn't tell her he was leaving town. He did arrange for Ainsley to feed his bird, so the truth would come out eventually, but he'd be several states away by then.

He rode the bus. There was something oddly comforting about the anonymity of being in a crowd of strangers who had no interest in him whatsoever. He stared out the window and watched the country go by. When he stepped off the Greyhound in Lexington, Kentucky, he walked to a nearby hotel and checked in, then headed straight to the US Marshals office. There was no point in trying to talk to the FBI. If he was going to stop a killer from killing again, he needed someone in law enforcement to listen to him. The pattern suggested the next murder would happen in one of the rural communities around Lexington and it would be precipitated by a young woman's disappearance. He needed law enforcement with local knowledge, specifically.

He wandered into the Marshals' offices in a tidy three piece suit, charcoal grey with a burgundy tie perfectly knotted at his collar. He got a few suspicious sidelong glances but nobody asked if they could help him. He cleared his throat.

"Um, hello? I'm wondering if there's anyone here I can talk to about murder." He held up his hands. "Stopping murder, specifically, not... like... smalltalk."

Date: 22 Jan 2020 03:52 (UTC)
tinstar: (Hatless)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
"You ain't even bought me dinner yet," he replied with an amused look from under his eyebrows as he and his boots hit the landing. "Trust me, there isn't a couch I met I haven't been able to sleep well on."

Date: 22 Jan 2020 04:01 (UTC)
tinstar: (Default)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
"Take your pick. Just let me know which one so I can run the sheets through the washer come morning. Do me a favor and don't look in any of the dresser drawers. Haven't quite gotten to clearing all of them out, so I'm also not completely sure what is in there."

Date: 22 Jan 2020 14:01 (UTC)
tinstar: (Shadowed Hat)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
Raylan lazily saluted Malcolm as they parted ways and headed towards the porch. He wanted to finish his beer out in the quiet of the evening where he could mull the case they were working on over in his head. It had progressed fairly quickly and Raylan needed to process it all. Think about where someone like that was likely to take someone where they wouldn't be bothered.

Within 45 minutes, he was back inside and peeling off his boots and his button up plaid. After fetching a pillow and blanket from a closet, he laid out on the couch he'd spent too many nights on and slipped into an easy sleep.

The slight rocking of the bed made its way oh so faintly through the floor but it was the crash that woke Raylan up. "What the-" The scream that followed was more than enough to hurry along him throwing off his blanket and snatching his gun up as he ran up the stairs.

There wasn't time to say anything - not with Malcolm hurtling towards him. Raylan did the only thing he could think of. Tackle first, ask questions later. The gun was dropped onto the floor as he launched himself forwards; he wasn't gonna be shooting any guests today, if he had anything to say about it and he sure as shit wasn't looking to get shot by them either.

Date: 22 Jan 2020 19:36 (UTC)
tinstar: (Pushin' it)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
With Malcolm down, Raylan slid over his chest to keep Malcolm from turning or thrashing too much as he grabbed each hand as it swung at him. "Hey, hey hey hey." The word came out louder and louder as Raylan tried to wake him up, his name slipping in between the 'Hey's.

"Malcolm!"

What the fuck was going on? Raylan had heard of nightmares, he'd had a few himself, but nothing like this.

Date: 22 Jan 2020 20:30 (UTC)
tinstar: (Hatless)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
Raylan waited a second, wild eyes searching Malcolm's face and slowly let the man's wrists go before dismounting from his straddle and flopping down on his ass to rake a hand through his equally wild hair.

"Normally I save sleep for after screamin' and thrashin'." Yeah, that softly dissatisfied pinch of his face was going to be there for a few minutes.

"Did you break anything in your attempts to get through the floor the old fashioned way? You wanna tell me what all this is?" As he asked, that index finger came back out to circle uselessly towards the floor.

Date: 22 Jan 2020 21:38 (UTC)
tinstar: (Eyeballin)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
Like the vets that came home from war. Tim didn't have them but he'd told Raylan of plenty of guys who had. His expression relaxed a little with a gentle double nod of his head as he scratched his eyebrow with the nail of his thumb.

"I've heard of it. Never seen it before. It happen every time you fall asleep?"

There was the unasked question beneath it of 'How are you alive with no sleep?'

Date: 22 Jan 2020 22:19 (UTC)
tinstar: (Hotel Cowboy)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
"Hell, I don't blame you. Five more feet forward and you would have gone down the stairs." Sighing, Raylan pushed up to his bare feet, padding over to collect his discarded gun.

"You go back to sleep or do you stay up?"

Date: 23 Jan 2020 00:06 (UTC)
tinstar: (Shadowed Hat)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
"I could always tie ya to a chair," Raylan offered innocently, but his brain quickly caught up, evident in the pinched, slightly offended at himself expression. Phrasing, goddamnit.

"Kick you if you start twitchin." But whatever happened, it was happening downstairs, and Raylan headed that way, 98% sure Malcolm would politely decline, as he had much more reasonable things like food and beer.

Date: 23 Jan 2020 00:42 (UTC)
tinstar: (Shadowed Hat)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
"Suit yourself. Ain't like I'm getting back to sleep after that," he said as he disappeared down onto the first floor. There was something about upstairs that bothered him, something else he wasn't willing to look too closely at.

Once he got back into the kitchen, he set the coffee pot to start filling and leaned against the counter, rubbing at his eyes and the bridge of his nose. Tomorrow was going to be a long day and coffee with a shot of whiskey was going to be what got him through it.

He was sure he could catch a nap.. at the office.. in his car..

Date: 23 Jan 2020 01:52 (UTC)
tinstar: (Pushin' it)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
Water into reservoir, grounds into filter, button pressed. Wasn't technology great?

Raylan hummed in question as he looked over, squinting faintly. "You do this to everyone?" Sighing, he shifted, putting his back to the counter as he crossed his arms and ankles, casually comfortable in his standing.

"That's where I was sent when he was laying into my mama. Any night that Arlo came home drunk was ripe for him getting pissed at her for one thing or another and trying to beat her within an inch of her life or until he got tired. It got so bad after a while, she started running off to Noble's Holler. Arlo and his bluster wasn't getting past Limehouse and his well armed friends, and they were known for taking in white women for protection."

If Raylan went up to the hollar, he'd get one good favor outta Limehouse in exchange for the fondness of his mother. Social currency at it's best and better not used at all.

"My face pressed up against those wooden rails, listening to him hit her again and again and again..." He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet uncomfortable in the retelling. "Arlo didn't kill her, but he sure as hell tried."

Date: 23 Jan 2020 02:19 (UTC)
tinstar: (Eyeballin)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
At least Malcolm recognized it. Raylan put on a good face, but it could be worse. Maybe he was just used to being given shit by Tim and others.

The idea of Arlo getting a solid swing on Helen made Raylan huff a chuckle, mouth morphing back into an amused smirk. "I remember the first night he tried. Helen pulled her shotgun and threatened to blow his nuts into chunks for his next dinner. There's a reason there's a bat in the kitchen. A few of 'em."

Said bat was to Malcolm's left, leaning against the counter and the doorframe.

"Aunt Helen didn't take shit from anyone, least of all Arlo. She couldn't stop him from being a murderer and a crook but.." He sighed deeply. "She loved him, for some reason or another. Dealt with all the bad blood and luck he brought to his door and helped handle him when I pissed him off. Which was a lot when I was a teenager. I think she woulda liked you, actually."

Mainly because a good smile from Malcolm would have any red-blooded woman pleased to have it.

Date: 23 Jan 2020 03:18 (UTC)
tinstar: (Shadowed Hat)
From: [personal profile] tinstar
He nodded. "Yeah. She liked perceptive people. She liked messin' with 'em too." And oh the fun she would have had with Malcolm. "Kept her sharp."

Helen was a woman to be admired. She was tough, scrappy, cooked a hellva dinner and was a wry business woman to boot, though not in the traditional way that someone like Malcolm might think of. Raylan had loved her, did love her, even if those weren't the kinda words to pass his lips.

"I was 20 when I decided to join the Marshal's service. After the coal mines and the good ol' boy bullshit that comes with this place, I bucked. It was worse than joining the army; becoming anything close to law enforcement. An utter betrayal of everything he tried to teach me."

The smell of coffee filled the kitchen, crickets of 1 am still rubbing their symphonies with no sign of easing. It was the warmer air, it made everything feel alive, even now.

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I think that's a great place to ftb

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