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queen-of-writing-bad-things · 10 months ago

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Henry Danger Reader Insert | Captain Man x Reader: SEASON 1

Episode 1: The Danger Begins Pt.1

~Henry's House~

~Third Person PoV~

It was another typical day in Swellview. As usual, Henry Hart, Charlotte Page, and Jasper Dunlop were at Henry's house, trying to finish their homework. Henry and Charlotte sat on the sofa, focusing on the algebra questions in front of them, but Jasper quickly grabbed their attention as he stood with his PearPad and read the latest Swellview news.

"Hey, did you guys see what Captain Man did yesterday?" Jasper said excitedly, showing the device to Henry, who was now ignoring the math he was supposed to be doing in preparation for the upcoming math test.

"Can we focus on algebra?" Charlotte was exasperated. She had always been the smartest of the three friends and preferred to get her homework done quickly and correctly, unlike the two boys with her.

"There was a fire at a pet store, and Captain Man ran inside, right through the flames, and saved all the animals!" The curly-haired boy told the story to both of them.

"And he didn't even get hurt!" Henry looked over at Jasper.

"Captain Man never gets hurt. He's a beast," He replied, returning his focus to the website on his screen.

"Y'know, someday when you guys are cleaning my swimming pool 'cause you failed this algebra test, then flunked out of school, I hope you remember this moment, 'cause I will." Charlotte sassed them both, knowing that she would be prepared for the test, but the boys would have nothing but Captain Man's heroic actions in their brains.

Henry clicked on another advert and quickly skimmed over the advertised information.

"Hey, here's a cool job I could do," He slammed his shoe onto the coffee table in front of Charlotte, even though she was still trying to work out her sums.

"Foot model," Henry stated, which caused Charlotte to look up at her blond friend with a confused and weirded-out expression.

"You guys, could we go over the list for my birthday party?" Jasper interrupted them with an excited tone from his place at the kitchen bar.

"Sure." Henry gave him a friendly smile.

"No." Charlotte quickly shot down Jasper's request, looking up from her homework.

"No." This time, Henry changed his answer to match Charlotte's annoyed tone.

"But I invited 52 people, and nobody's texted back yet. What does that mean?" Jasper asked them with a confused voice.

"That people have been to your parties before?" Henry joked, looking at Jasper and recalling all of Jasper's disastrous parties he'd attended.

"Oh, come on, my parties aren't that bad." Jasper shrugged off Henry's comment, trying to defend himself, but Charlotte quickly jumped in.

"Christmas three years ago, 15 kids ended up in the hospital." The dark-haired girl said, remembering one of the worst ones.

"'Cause of your raw turkey." Henry chimed in.

"It was turkey sushi." Jasper tried to tell them, even though his actions couldn't logically be explained.

"A boy almost died." Charlotte reasoned exasperatedly, trying to get to Jasper and make him see why giving people raw turkey is bad.

"Almost!" Jasper quickly retorted, putting a chip in his mouth, thinking he'd won the argument.

"Okay!" Henry threw his arms in the air. "First person who helps me find an after-school job gets this bowl of pine cones." He picked up the large bowl and offered it to his friends, which caused Jasper to gasp in excitement.

"Wow. Why do you even need a job?" Charlotte asked with scepticism from the ridiculous offer of pine cones.

"Y'know, to learn responsibility, challenge myself..." Henry replied, listing all of his aspirational reasons, but Jasper was quick to interrupt him with the real reason why he was so desperate for a job.

"He wants money."

"I want money," the blond boy agreed, looking back at Charlotte, who was walking towards the kitchen.

"Money's good." She agreed.

"Can we please talk about my birthday?" Jasper brought up his party again, much to the annoyance of his female friend.

"Am I gonna have to slap a boy?" she sighed sarcastically, but there was also some truth in her voice. Jasper annoyed her sometimes. The curly-haired boy at the bar looked back at her with panic, but the comment made Henry smile down at his computer.

"Henry, can you please tell me how in the wor--" Kris Hart, Henry's mom started as she appeared from upstairs and walked down the stairs. When she looked across the room, it was only then she noticed her son's best friends were also in the living room.

"Oh, I didn't know Jasper and Charlotte were here." She smiled, looking cheerful with her laundry basket under her arm.

"We're studying." Jasper smiled back.

"Are we?" Charlotte retorted, knowing they hadn't done much actual work.

"Mom, we're right in the middle of something." Henry tried to get her to leave, not wanting to have his mom around his friends.

"I'm not interrupting." She said, plopping the laundry basket down on the coffee table.

"Okay, thanks."

"I just have a question about your underwear," Mrs Hart said, holding up a pair of blue underwear, which embarrassed Henry.

"Mom!" Henry exclaimed with a horrified voice, as his friends were now laughing at what his mother was holding.

"I'd like to hear the question." Charlotte teased, walking behind Henry and resting her hands on the couch.

"What is the issue with Henry's underwear?" Jasper joined in, smirking at Mrs Hart to make his oldest friend blush. He, too, was now resting his arms on the couch with Charlotte.

"Mom!" Piper, Henry's little sister burst through the front door, stealing everyone's attention away from the underwear situation for a minute.

"Mom, I'm not okay," Piper shouted the phrase that she often did, making Mrs Hart turn around to face her. Henry also looked over, trying to use his big brother status tocalm his bratty sister.

"Piper, we're trying to study here."

"I'm talking to my mother." Piper sassed back with irritation evident in her voice.

Henry decided he couldn't deal with her, so he rolled his eyes and looked back down at his PearBook.

"What's wrong, baby?" Mrs Hart looked at her only daughter with a sympathetic expression.

"Jessica unfollowed me!" The 9-year-old showed up again with an angry expression. She showed her PearPhone to her mom.

"No one cares!" Henry said back, clearly not understanding why the tiny issue so worked up Piper. He stood up with his laptop and walked off.

"Henry! Why would Jessica unfollow you?" Mrs Hart tried to keep the situation between her children calm.

"'Cause she posted a picture of her with me and Allison, so I posted a comment that said, "OMG, you look gorgeous." Piper started to explain.

"Well, that's nice." Her mother interrupted in a pleasant voice.

"No. 'Cause Allison thought it meant she looked gorgeous, so she posted a comment that said, "Thanks, ILY." And so then Jessica got jealous and unfollowed me, and now I hate myself, and I'm gonna die!". The young girl failed to see how silly and superfluous her problem was, much to her mother's confusion.

"I'll call Jessica's mom and talk to her." Mrs Hart reasoned, picking up her basket and walking off, which upset her daughter.

"No! That's not okay!" Piper followed her mom, shouting at her from behind.

"Dang it! All these jobs say I've got to have skills." Henry slumped back into his seat at the kitchen table in defeat from not finding a job he liked.

"So? You got tons of skills." Jasper looked at him and tried to cheer him up.

"Name one."

"You're a great dancer." Henry looked at him with a confused face.

"Not I'm not."

"You could take lessons," Jasper said back, waving his finger at his friend as he sat down on a stool.

"Oh my gosh." Henry suddenly looked worried and stood up from his chair.

"What?"Charlotte asked with a curious tone.

"I'm-- I'm not great at anything. This is tragic." He replied with a sad voice.

"Here, let me see." Charlotte wandered over to his computer and combed all the job adverts listed on the site whilst Henry was still complaining about himself.

"I'm just a big pile of average." He glumly exclaimed as Charlotte busily typed away.

"Okay, here's a job." Charlotte smiled with success, and Henry's attention was quickly on the screen as Jasper came up behind them.

"At a store called Junk-N-Stuff. It says, "Needed: part-time helper for various duties." Charlotte read out to the amusement of Jasper, who was giggling to himself behind her at the word 'duties'. The other two kids looked at him with a 'seriously?' expression on their faces before returning to look at the ad.

"And see? It says, "No special skills necessary." She added to Henry's delight.

"That's me. I've got to go get that job." Henry said with excitement, running towards the couch, grabbing the bowl of pine cones, and running them back to Charlotte in his hands.

"You get the pine cones." He said with a cheerful voice.

Charlotte took them from him with a bemused look on her face. Jasper looked disappointedly between them. He desperately wanted those pine cones.

"Sweet." Charlotte took them, rolling her eyes. After she had received them, Henry ran to the door, eager to get to Junk-N-Stuff before anyone else could apply for the job.

Good luck, Hen!" Charlotte called after him sweetly.

"Thanks!" And with a slam of the door, he was gone.

"If you give me a pine cone, I'll lick my elbow." Jasper offered the girl, who looked at him like he was insane. He tentatively reached for one of them, only for Charlotte to smack his hand away sharply.

~Junk-N-Stuff~

Henry entered the store he saw in the ad. Immediately after he oped the door, a giant T-Rex head on the wall breathed fire, causing him to look at it in wonder and amazement. An Indian man sat at the cash register, suspiciously looking at the boy who had just entered. Another man, wearing dark clothing with a black hat, was busy browsing the wacky junk that was up on the shelves.

Taking a closer look at the dubious man, Henry noticed that he had a distinct tattoo on his neck, but before he could properly inspect it, the man caught him staring.

"What are you looking at?" He said in a harsh voice, which caused Henry to stutter a little and look away.

"Uh, nothing. Just, uh, this turtle's butt." His answer seemed to make the man back off, and with a quick apology, he continued browsing.

Taking another look around the shop, Henry noticed the cashier was letting a huge Venus Fly Trap drink from an M-shaped straw. Clearing his throat, he introduced himself to the odd man.

"Um, my name is Henry Hart. I'm here about the job."

"The job?" The man said slowly, as the plant next to him burped.

"Um, did that plant burp?" Henry asked.

"Go back," The cashier said mysteriously, which confused the boy even more than he already was in the kooky store.

"Um, what? Come back?"

"Go back." He repeated, saying nothing more, not a single detail.

"Where?" Henry pressed as the man continued to drink through the curly straw.

"To the back."

"Oh, go to the back." The blond boy finally understood.

"Take the elevator down." The man explained very slowly.

"What floor?"

"Down." Was all the man had to say, which made the plant squeak, adding to Henry's bewilderment.

"You too." He pointed at the flytrap and started to make his way to the back of the store slowly.

Walking through the back, he came to a rusty-looking elevator, but the phone in his pocket started to ring before he could press any buttons.

"Hey, what's up?" He answered, finding it was Jasper on the line.

"Does my basement smell like chicken poop?" Jasper started with. Of all the questions he could ask, this was the one he asked when Henry was trying to get a job.

"Yes." He could hear Charlotte say in the background. He pressed the elevator button before replying.

"What?"

"I'm down in my basement with Charlotte, and she says it smells like poop from a chicken." He explained.

"A sick chicken!" He heard his other friend exclaim in the background again.

"Uh, what are you and Charlotte doing in your basement?" Henry was so confused as he stepped into the elevator.

"He wants to have his birthday party down here in this chicken toilet." He could tell Charlotte was annoyed with Jasper again, and he continued to listen to them argue."

"This is my home." Jasper protested in an offended tone, and Henry wanted the conversation to end as he pressed the down button.

"Guys, I can't talk right now. I'm at a job interview, so I gotta go." The second his fingertip left the button, the elevator fell down the shaft, causing him to shout and scream in fear. As he continued to fall with the elevator, he could hear his best friends express their concerns over the phone, but he was too busy failing to reply.

When he finally came to a stop, the doors opened to reveal a bright room filled with cool gadgets and rock music playing loudly.

"I'll call you back."

~(y/n)'s PoV~

"So tell me again, why do you need a sidekick?" As usual, I asked Ray, who, was excitedly walking around the Man Cave. He turned to me and began to talk to me in his 'Captain Man' voice.

"Because, my cute little helper, I realised I'm not getting any younger, and need help when I'm out doing cool superhero stuff." He came to a stop next to the couch where I was sitting and leaned on the back of it.

"Right, it's taken you 25 years to realise that." I retorted, which only made him roll his eyes at me. We often bantered with each other, being the best of friends, even though I've been in love with him for most of the seven years I've known him.

Y'see, I met Ray when he wanted a helper to look after the Man Cave when he was out and about as Captain Man, Swellview's beloved resident superhero. Gooch stays upstairs in Junk-N-Stuff, and I monitor the supercomputer for any emergency calls. I keep Ray in check when he lets his childish nature get the better of him. After being hired when I was 20, we worked to keep the safe city safe, and before I knew it, those beefy arms and that floppy brown hair had me head over heels. Not that I'd ever tell him.

In the last few years, I've been determined to maintain a professional streak in our friendship. That and his constant interest in all the pretty girls Swellview has to offer; I've been firmly in the friend zone since I moved in. Now I'm at the ripe old age of 27, and it seems that Ray is insistent that he introduces a new face to the Man Cave.

"Look, smarty pants, I put an ad online, and now I'm waiting for Gooch to send down an applicant." He had circled the couch and was sitting next to me while I was scrolling through a playlist of our favourite rock music.

"This ad you posted online. Can anyone apply for it?" I paused for a second after I processed what he said.

"Well, yeah, I guess. Anyone who saw it." I looked up at him with a slight scowl on my face.

"Wait, so we could have any weirdo come down the elevator into your super-secret hideout, and you're going to give them a job? And, you're going to trust them with your identity?" He had that stupid, but the loveable expression on his face told me he knew I'd caught him out.

"Yeah, but I can always use the memory wiper." He smirked back, making me scoff and remove myself from his side. I climbed over the back of the couch and walked to the automatic snack machine for some popcorn.

"Don't come crying to me when shit goes wrong, Raymond." I tried to tease him, but he had already put my headphones on his head and made the couch spin around the room. He was oblivious to the rest of the world, now jamming to some rock.

I was just about to order my popcorn when the elevator dropped, and a dazed, skinny, blond kid stumbled out. He looked around the Man Cave in amazement, quickly becoming confused when he saw Ray in his little music world.

'Huh, this could be interesting.' I thought to myself.

~3rd Person PoV~

The couch came to a stop, and Ray noticed that he now had a teen boy in his Man Cave. (y/n) looked on from the computer area, and the boy didn't seem to notice her, as Ray's exuberant personality quickly caught his attention.

"Hey! How are ya?! Cool. Thanks. Great to meet ya!" He exclaimed quickly, not giving Henry any chance to greet him back. He yanked off the headphones and chucked them to the couch, which caused (y/n)'s eyebrows to fly to her hairline, mainly because they weren't his to throw and also because he hadn't let the poor kid get a word in.

"I'm doing good. What's your name?" He said quickly, walking over to the boy and finally giving him a chance to speak.

"Um, I'm Henry Hart. I'm here about the job." To say how overwhelming the situation was, Henry did a good job of keeping his voice steady.

"Age?" Ray started his quizzing.

"13. I'll be 14 on my next birthday." Henry explained to the large man in front of him.

"Ahhhh. So, you're ageing sequentially. I like that." Ray placed a hand on his chin as if he was thinking.

"Thanks." Henry looked a little nervous as Ray offered him his hand and enthusiastically introduced himself.

"My name's Ray."

"Hi, Ray." They shook hands, grinning at each other.

"You ask a lot of questions." A baffled sense came over Henry as he took in Ray's statement.

"I don't think I've asked any questions." Henry stuttered out, which made the woman observing the pair wander over.

"Ray, you're confusing him. Hiya, I'm (y/n)." She came over to Henry, offering her hand and a calming smile, which he returned as he shook her hand.

"Chocolate or vanilla?!" Ray suddenly asked, causing (y/n) to throw her head back with a sigh. He couldn't be serious about stuff like this, and asked the most ridiculous stuff, but secretly, she loved that about him. It was cute, not that she'd ever admit it.

"Here we go." She braced herself for the weird questions Ray was asking poor Henry.

"Vanilla."

'Not a bad answer.' (y/n) thought to herself.

"Helicopters or kangaroos?" Ray pointed his finger at the teenage boy.

'Oh god.' (y/n) continued to stay silent.

"Helicopters," Henry answered with a slight tinge of reluctance, but Ray still accepted his answer.

"Love it. Scrambled eggs or dynamite?" He walked behind Henry, who was struggling to answer.

"Okay, Ray, what have you been sniffing and should I get my first aid kit?" (y/n) joked. Any average person would think Ray was insane, but (y/n) knew that that was just Ray's way.

"Both." Henry's answer distracted Ray from his best friend's comment. His eyes lit up as he contemplated the idea, making the young lady smile at him with fondness.

"Maybe. Complete this sentence, "I'm sorry, mother, I didn't mean for my elephant to blank." Ray quickly came up with a random sentence for Henry, curious to see what he would say.

"Uh, lick dad." Henry smiled as he thought of his parents in the ridiculous situation. He laughed along with Ray and (y/n) as they were all amused by the funny scenario.

Ray suddenly clapped his hands, and they all stopped laughing.

"Well, that's not funny." He said with a frown on his face.

"No." Henry's face had dropped too.

"Not at all." (y/n) muttered as she looked at Ray as he popped a 'special' gumball into his mouth and walked to the supercomputer.

"Um, is this the job interview?" Henry asked, completely lost with what was happening.

"Just wait and see, kid." (y/n) smirked at him and went to where Ray was now sitting, but her answer didn't help him.

"Do you want it to be the job interview?" Ray asked.

"Um, what is the job?" Henry was desperate to know. Suddenly, Ray leaned closer to him with a very excited face.

"What do you think the job is?" He asked back.

"Hey, genius, stop answering questions with questions." (y/n) had a bored expression on her face, but Ray knew she was entertained by what was happening.

"Shut up!" He held a finger up in her face, which she slapped away, giving Henry a chance to answer.

"Um, well, the ad said part-time helper, so I'm thinking maybe you need someone to help you, you know, part-time." Ray was squatting up and down as Henry moved his hands as he described his job interpretation.

"Do you ever dream about sleeping?" Ray asked in a severe voice, pointing the finger (y/n) slapped at Henry.

"No."

"Good. If you did, you'd be dead." (y/n) said, giggling, which made Ray smile at her. Deep down, she had the same silly sense of humour that he did.

Ray walked to the middle of the room, (y/n) understanding what he was about to do. Henry, however, did not.

"I'm so confused." Henry spoke truthfully, but then again, who wouldn't? The Man Cave always had that effect on people when they first came down, and when coupled with Ray's eccentricity, it made for a dazing experience.

"David?" Ray started.

"His name's Henry." (y/n) reminded him.

"Can I trust you?" The large man looked intensely at Henry, who looked to (y/n) for reassurance. She gave a slight nod and a smile.

"Sure."

"Can you keep a secret?" Ray continued.

"Totally," Henry said confidently.

"So I can trust you to keep a secret?" Ray moved back and forth as he enunciated each word, which made (y/n) look at him with impatience.

"Yes, sir," Henry said curtly. Accepting his answer, Ray took a few steps back from the boy and woman, who were both waiting for his next move. (y/n) placed a hand on Henry's shoulder, not wanting the teen to faint or overreact from Ray's theatrics. Henry looked confused but didn't say anything as he watched the older man.

"I'm gonna blow a bubble," Ray explained to him.

"You're going to blow a bubble?" Henry questioned exasperatedly, clearly not understanding the situation.

"And I'm going to blow your mind," Ray said excitedly, which fuelled (y/n)'s smile.

He began to blow his bubble, (y/n)'s heart thumping for what came next. The bubble popped, and in a flash of light, Ray changed his civilian clothes to his super-suit, finally showing Henry that he was Captain Man. (y/n) eyes raked over him, admiring how his costume fit him, but before he could notice her staring she looked back at Henry, who was about to lose his mind in excitement.

"You're Captain Man!" He shouted, his hands on his head in disbelief.

"That's right, Henry." Ray replied in his 'Captain Man' voice, enjoying the attention.

"Oh, hold on a second." His voice was a little embarrassed as he noticed his zipper was halfway down. His gloved fingers fumbled, trying to get the darn thing to do up properly.

"Stupid zipper. Always sticks. Com-- Ow! That's my skin!" He jumped up and down in an attempt to let the momentum fix the zipper, but it seemed to be well and truly stuck.

"Come here, Captain Doofus, let me do it." (y/n) sighed and walked over to the man.

His hands, previously tugging on his costume, came up to rest just a couple of inches from her face. Her tongue poked out as she worked on wriggling the stubborn zipper up the jacket. From that angle, he could analyse her delicate features as Henry watched and saw the chemistry between the two.

With a little more muscle and some help from an old bottle of oil, (y/n) was finally able to get the zipper to slide smoothly up Ray's chest. With one last pat to his pectoral, (y/n) stepped back in success.

"Who's a genius? All you need is a little lubrication." She bantered at him, putting the oil bottle on the couch table.

"Say until you believe it, small fry." he shot back.

"Muscle beanstalk." She stuck her tongue out, which made Ray return the gesture.

"I-- I can't believe I'm standing here talking to Captain Man!" Henry still couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. This was a dream come true.

"Why, are you a fan? Do you like me? Most people like me but not everyone." Ray smirked at the thought of all the people who adored Captain Man.

"Yeah, I'm a huge fan." (y/n) was used to the praise heaped onto Ray, and over the years, she'd tried to keep him even a bit humble.

"Watch out, kid. You'll stroke his HUGE ego." She giggled at him and his enthusiasm.

"Oh man, I've gotta tell Jasper about this. He's going to freak when I tell him I'm standing next to Captain--" Henry reached for his phone in his pocket, but before he could start typing, Ray took his laser remote from his utility belt and zapped the PearPhone from his clutches. The burn from the laser on his fingertips caused him to drop the fried phone to the floor.

"I could've just taken his phone from him, but your way works too." (y/n) looked at the superhero, shocked that he'd just destroyed a teenager's most prized possession.

"Sorry, but you can't tell your friends about this," Ray stated sheepishly, telling Henry his most important rule.

"Yeah, sorry, kid, but he's right. You can't tell anyone about what you've just seen." (y/n) agreed, thinking that Ray's secret identity was the most essential thing in his life. The phone on the floor was short-circuiting on the floor as Henry went to grab it.

"Okay, but did you have to melt my phone?" He asked in irritation.

"I'll get you a new one," Ray promised, which prompted (y/n) to reply with joy in her voice.

"Oh yeah, big spender, it's not like we need the money for other things. Stop destroying little kids' phones." She commented, leaning against the couch.

"Hey, I'm not a little kid. But really?" His attention switched between the two.

"No," Ray said shortly before walking across the room and sitting on the back of the couch across from where (y/n) was leaning.

"So, Henry, tell me why you want a job." Now that was an interview question (y/n) that could get behind.

"Well, y'know, to learn responsibility and challenge myself," Henry explained, relating what he had said to his friends earlier, but (y/n) saw straight through the teenage boy, knowing exactly what all kids his age were after.

"So, you want money?" She proposed, smirking as she guessed correctly. Every kid was the same; always trying to get enough to buy what every other kid on the playground had, and this guy was no different.

"Lots of money." Henry quickly agreed with her because it was the truth. He did want money, and he was 13, and he wanted to buy what 13-year-olds buy!

In the middle of their conversation, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened to reveal an 'old woman' who staggered out into the man cave. Henry looked between the weird lady, the superhero and the young woman, wondering what on Earth could be happening now.

Ray and (y/n) knew what to expect. They had arranged the exercise that morning, but regardless, (y/n) was nervous as to how Henry would cope with what was going to happen next.

"Is this the ladies' room?" The 'woman' asked in a stereotypical British old lady voice. Henry was beyond confused now, but Ray maintained his calm demeanour.

"No, ma'am, you're not supposed to be down here." He said to the intruder, who started to look around.

"What an interesting place." 'She' complimented.

"Thank you, but we're conducting a job interview, and you're very old, so can you please just get back in the elevator?" (y/n) pointed back to where the 'old lady' first emerged, and directed 'her' to leave, as according to the plan.

"Oh, I'll just take me phone out of me purse and call me nephew." 'She' chuckled, rummaging through her bag.

"Great, I'll just turn around and look at something." 'Wow, smooth Ray, way to keep things subtle in front of Henry.' (y/n) mentally rolled her eyes as she lowered her gaze to the floor.

As the 'British' woman searched through 'her' purse, the tattoo on 'her' neck was exposed, making Henry realise that something wasn't right. He remembered when he had first entered the store above the hideout and recalled the same tattoo on the scary man from before. Watching the man/woman scowl, he shouted at Ray and ran to the intruder to try and stop them.

"Captain Man!!" Ray turned around for the man/woman to blast him in the chest. He clutched at where he was hit and cried out in fake pain before falling onto the couch. (y/n) ran to him, pretending to tend to the wound.

"Captain Man! You gotta stay with me!" She acted, trying to sound worried. Henry had begun to wrestle with the 'old lady' to get the blaster out of their hands. The 'old lady' hit him with 'her' purse, causing Henry to fall back from the impact. Taking advantage of Henry being on the ground, the 'woman' strode towards the pair on the couch, pointing the weapon at them simultaneously putting their fake boob back into place.

"Goodbye forever, Captain Man." They said in a more manly voice, as (y/n) tried to shield Ray from the laser, even though she knew he would be okay if he were hit.

Having recovered quickly, Henry saw the peril his possible bosses were in, and in the act of bravery and desperation to save them, he jumped on the attacker's back, causing the blast to miss Captain Man. They started to struggle across the room, but Henry clung to him.

"Get off of me!" The man swatted at him and spun around, trying to get the boy off.

"Quit talking like a British Lady." Henry quipped back, fighting the man with all his strength.

"Stop pulling me wig over me eyes." The man complained in a fake British accent. Henry jumped off his back and opened the elevator door whilst they couldn't see. Ray was still 'injured' and (y/n) was still trying to help him as Henry slammed his body into the guy, causing him to tumble into the open elevator. Thinking on his feet, Henry pressed the button, sealing him in, allowing him to look over and see the supposedly hurt superhero and his helper.

"Captain Man!" He panicked, seeing his hero sprawled out. He sprinted over to where (y/n) was 'checking' his pulse and other vital signs, which worried Henry more.

"Is he okay?!" He was panting, but (y/n) stayed calm, feeling his steady pulse under her fingers, and she knew he was alright.

"Captain Man is always okay!" Ray suddenly sat up with a cheery voice and clapped Henry on the back, making (y/n) remove her fingers and sit back on the couch. The game was up.

The elevator opened, revealing the man removing his wig, but Henry was letting the sensation of relief wash over him.

"Nice work, Boris." Ray smiled at the man in makeup, establishing a friendly tone between them, which puzzled Henry.

"The boy did good job." Boris congratulated Henry.

"Woah, woah, wait, wait. You know the--" He started.

"That's Boris. He works for Ray." (y/n) explained to the younger boy, smiling because Boris was right. Henry had done an outstanding job.

"What?" Boris walked over to the three.

"How'd you know he wasn't really an old lady?" Ray looked down at Henry, wanting to know how he'd spotted Boris' real identity.

"Uh, 'cause of the tattoo on his neck. I saw it on him up in the store. And his boobs are too wobbly." (y/n) nodded along with Boris, liking how observant the kid was.

"True. Get those under control." Ray joked, looking at Boris with disgust. Giving him a mini salute, Boris took off into the back of the Man Cave.

"You've got a sharp eye, good instincts and --" Ray started.

"And a nice shirt, and you're brave." (y/n) interrupted with a grin on her face, watching Ray analyse Henry.

"Thanks," Henry said appreciatively.

"Do you know how to make sandwiches?" Ray said, back to asking his weird questions.

"I do!" Henry realised, looking up at the superhero.

"Then you have all the qualities I'm looking for." He smiled down at him, making (y/n) smile too.

"But I--I don't..." Henry started, still confused, but he was beaten to it.

"You're the one, Henry." Serious moments like this allowed (y/n) to admire the older man in his real light. Yes, he was immature, but he was also a calm and brave man who took his job protecting people very seriously.

"The one to make you a sandwich?" Henry still didn't get it.

"No, no, no, I have (y/n) to do that." Ray retorted, but (y/n) punched him on the shoulder with some offence.

"Last sandwich I'll ever make you if you keep ordering me about!" She punched him again so he'd get the message.

"Everyone gets old someday, even Captain Man. I can't do this forever." Ray wandered over to the supercomputer with Henry and (y/n) in tow.

"Yeah, life gets real hard when you're pushing forty." The young woman decided to bite back at Ray.

"Hey! I'm still young!!" He shouted without turning around at her, which meant he didn't see her smirking.

"Doing what?" Henry brought them back to the original conversation.

"Protecting SwellView from bad guys, bad things, bad smells." Henry looked confused at the last bad thing.

"Smells?" He queried.

"You want to be horrified?" Ray turned back quickly and dramatically.

"No!" Henry rapidly said, not wanting to see anything too graphic.

"Watch this." Ray turned back to the computer, where his (your/colour/hair)ed friend pressed various buttons and controls to bring up a video.

The three watched as a small, but grown man in a baby's prison outfit grunted and danced weirdly in front of the camera.

"Who's the freak in the diaper?" Henry asked, clearly repulsed at what he was seeing.

"The Toddler, and don't let the diaper fool you, kid, he's pure evil." (y/n) said as the video got a close-up of the creepy criminal.

"Wow." Henry watched as the man-baby growled on the floor like an insane child.

"I'll show you, now watch this secret video that was intercepted by my people who intercept secret videos," Ray exclaimed, making (y/n) question his logic, but she pulled the video up nonetheless with a few clicks of the control panel.

"You were supposed to bring me my applesauce two minutes ago." The Toddler said onscreen. His henchman tried to apologise, but the Toddler wouldn't accept it.

"Sorry, don't make baby happy." He growled, blowing a long raspberry in the henchman's face, but he was interrupted by another man in an adult onesie.

"Toddler, good news. The radioactive Zenite is here." He said, and this seemed to put The Toddler in a happier mood.

"Really? Whoo-hoo!! That means we can begin phase 2 of my plan." The man-child said excitedly

"Will someone wipe my face?" The tied-up man asked timidly.

"NO!" shouted The Toddler, making Henry grimace, but Ray and (y/n) kept their grave faces. The Toddler complained about how hard it was to blow raspberries in his minion's face, so he ordered the big one to make a device that could do it fot him. The sight of him getting saliva all over their faces made Ray groan in disgust, which prompted (y/n) to shut off the video before he was sick quickly.

"You see that?" he asked Henry.

"He's a maniac!" Henry agreed with the two.

"And there's more maniacs like him, all dangerous to the good citizens of Swellview," Ray explained as he walked back to the centre of the room, causing Henry to turn around and (y/n) to swivel on the chair she was in.

"Well, yeah, but we've got you to stop them," Henry stated, knowing how devoted Captain Man was to Swellview.

"True. But I'm not as young as I used to be." Ray sighed, feeling depressed over his age.

"I'm almost thirty-four!" He looked down in pity, but (y/n) snorted in laughter at how ridiculous he sounded.

"Hey, don't laugh! You're six years younger than me!" He said, pointing at her, but she continued to laugh.

"I need help, and someday someone's gonna have to take over for me." Ray looked at Henry expectantly.

"Like?" The kid still didn't get it, which made (y/n) spell it out for him, not wanting it to drag out any longer.

"Like you, Henry." She said, walking over to them and gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What do you say, Henry?" Ray put his hand over hers.

"Do you wanna be my sidekick?" Henry scoffed in disbelief, his biggest dream about to come true, but first, he had to get his priorities straight.

"How much does it pay?" He added in.

"$9 an hour." Ray offered, which delighted the young boy.

"Whoa!!" Ray shared his excitement.

"I know, right?"

"Not even I get that!" (y/n) told the young boy,

"That's 'cause you get to live here." Ray pointed out, and (y/n) nodded with a roll of her eyes.

~Junk-N-Stuff~

Back up in the store, Charlotte and Jasper had come to see if Henry had been successful with his job interview. They opened the door and were struck with the same sense of wonder that had filled Henry when he first got to look around the shop.

"Whoa!" The curly-haired boy gasped at the cool gadgets/junk on the shelves.

"Check this place out." Charlotte shared his amazement.

"Hey, look at this thing." The excited chatter from the two teens made Gooch press a button on the side of his desk, switching the computer down in the Man Cave to the security cameras placed throughout the store.

~The Man Cave~

"Wow, a bucket of swords!" (y/n) saw two kids walking around the store.

"What are they doing here?" Henry said, not wanting his friends to ruin his chances of working with Captain Man.

"Friends of yours?" Ray asked with his arms folded.

"Uh-huh." They all continued to watch the screen, seeing how Jasper was entranced by one of the items on sale.

"Jasper, please don't embarrass me." Charlotte pleaded with him, giving (y/n) the idea that this kid was strange.

"Excuse me, sir."

"He's gonna do it." this made (y/n) bite her cheek to stop smiling at the girl's reaction.

"Yes?" Gooch elongated in his Indian dialect.

"How much?" Why was this kid so interested in a rusty, old barrel of swords?

"Each sword is $100." Gooch named the price.

"No, no, no, how much for the bucket?" 'Okay, this kid is really weird.'

"The bucket?" Gooch didn't understand either, it seemed.

"That's not a bucket. That's a barrel." Charlotte tried to tell him, but Jasper didn't care.

"It's close enough to a bucket. I collect buckets." He said with a proud smile on his face. 'Who the hell collects buckets?' (y/n) thought in her inner monologue; she didn't understand modern kids' obsessions.

"Don't say it." Poor Charlotte always got embarrassed by Jasper and his antics with buckets.

"I'm a bucketeer." And he said it.

"Well, they seem like nice kids. The boy's a bit weird but nice." (y/n) mentioned, leaning her arm on Ray's shoulder and looking over at Henry.

"Yeah, their names are Jasper and Charlotte. I've known them ever since--" He told them, still watching what they were doing upstairs.

"Get rid of them." Ray interrupted him, as he didn't want any more kids discovering the Man Cave or causing problems.

"I'll get rid of them." Henry quickly said and ran towards the elevator as (y/n) grabbed some popcorn from the auto-snack machine.

"You really have a way with children." (y/n) noted sarcastically, not loving how Ray spoke to Henry, but their attention was soon back on the screen and the bucket kid. Ray sat in the chair with his feet on the control panel, and (y/n) put her arms around his neck from behind, letting him reach the popcorn if he wanted it.

"Wow, what a bucket."

"Huh, kid sure loves that bucket," Ray said, looking up at her.

"Can't we just give it to him? Might make him leave faster." (y/n) pondered with a piece of popcorn in her mouth, not seeing how Ray gazed up at her.

"What? No! No free gifts to weird bucket kids."

They saw Henry run in from the back room, and he went over to where Charlotte and Jasper stood next to the sword barrel/bucket.

"Hey!" He greeted them.

"Hey Henry, did you get the job?" Charlotte asked him hopefully.

"Yeah." Ray grabbed the popcorn bucket from (y/n's) hands and started munching away.

"Cool." Charlotte congratulated him.

"Does that mean I can get a discount on this bucket?" Jasper asked him, really wanting the barrel/bucket, which irritated Ray a bit.

"I still say we just give him the bucket." (y/n) said, which caused the man sitting in front of her to throw a piece of popcorn up at her face.

"Dude, it's my first day here. You-- you guys gotta--" Henry tried to make them realise that they needed to leave, but when it came to buckets, Jasper Dunlop did not give up easily.

"Excuse me, mysterious foreign man, do Henry's friends get a discount here?" Jasper asked a perplexed Gooch, who only shook his head, along with his flytrap.

"That plant just shook its head!" Charlotte noticed in disbelief.

"Wow!" Jasper ran over to where the plant was kept, wanting to see if it would move again.

"Will you get him outta here?!" Henry shook her by her shoulders, trying to get the message across.

"How much for the plant?" Jasper asked Gooch.

"Like Gooch would give Omar to some kid." (y/n) giggled, taking more popcorn.

The flytrap squirmed and squealed at the thought of being bought, but Gooch quickly calmed it down.

"The plant is not for sale." He said seriously as Henry tried in vain to get them to leave.

"Come on. I'll give you seven bucks for it and one Canadian loonie." Jasper emptied his pockets and put all his money in front of the cashier. Not liking that the kid still wanted to buy him, the plant opened its mouth and squirted Jasper in the face.

"Ahhhh, it spat in my eye!" Ray laughed along with (y/n) at the sight of Jasper with his face screwed up. It was pretty hilarious.

"Hey, that's my popcorn, don't eat all of it." She said, trying to take the box back, but Ray was too enthralled with the kids onscreen.

"I told you Canadian money upsets people." Charlotte chastised as Jasper panicked from the spit in his eyes.

"You guys, you've got to go now." Henry started pulling his friends towards the front door, not wanting them to upset anyone else in the store.

"Wait, what about my bucket? I want the pretty bucket!" Jasper wouldn't let it go. Charlotte, too, was protesting why they had to leave so abruptly, but Henry still shoved them out of the door.

"Will you shut up about that bucket?" (y/n) heard Charlotte faintly shout from the street as Ray sipped on his drink that he reached for from the auto-snacker.

"Come on, get up, Henry will be back down here any minute, and he needs a costume if he's gonna be your sidekick." (y/n) patted Ray's shoulder and walked over to the couch.

"Yeah, yeah, but first, I want a banana," Ray said to her.

"All you ever do is eat." She joked.

"Just wait for the kid." He told her. The elevator dinged, and Henry came back into the Man Cave. Ray grabbed his banana and sat down next to (y/n), who started to tell Henry about what they were going to do.

"In that room, you'lll find loads of costumes about your size. Try them on, and we'll see what's best." She smiled, and Henry nodded in understanding.

"I gotta wear this?" Henry asked in horror, as he was wearing an American flag-inspired costume that was frankly hideous.

Ray sat munching his banana, looking at the teen in deep thought as he took in the outfit.

"All good sidekicks wear costumes." He told him.

"Yeah, but not like that. Take it off, Henry." (y/n) hated how bold it was.

"Yeah, I agree. This is bad." Henry nodded with her, looking at himself in the mirror.

"I have more options." The superhero said with a mouth full of banana.

This time, Henry was wearing a bright purple glitter jacket with matching pants and silver sparkly boots. It wasn't any better than the last outfit. He gave a twirl so the two adults could get a 360º look at the awful costume.

"The whole point of being a superhero is subtly. Why do you even have that?" (y/n) indignantly asked Ray, who was now eating another piece of fruit.

"Yeah, too sparkly."

The following costume wasn't any better, either. It was mainly red, with a hooded cape and a tight, shiny bodysuit. Nope.

"No capes!" (y/n) exclaimed. She hated them, knowing how they could be pulled and trapped during battle.

"Eh, it's a little Broadway." Ray wasn't keen on it either, this time eating some watermelon.

Okay, this one made (y/n) laugh loudly at how silly Henry looked. It was bright gold and too tight as Henry shuffled towards them, and at least he could make the criminals laugh at it.

"Too tight," Ray said, sitting on the couch with a half-eaten pineapple.

"Uh, way too tight." Henry squeaked out.

"Oh man, I ate a lot of fruit." Ray moaned in pain from his full stomach, but (y/n) had little sympathy for him.

"I told you not to eat all of it, but did you listen? Noooo." She said to herself, which made Ray place a hand on her head to steady himself.

This one was perfect. It matched Ray's suit, with silver, red and blue making up the jacket. Everything suited him like it was tailor-made. The two adults observing him smiled and nodded at the new costume.

"Hey! I like it." Ray said with glee as he stood up, his fruit-induced stomachache now subsided.

"I like it." Henry agreed.

"But it takes a lot of time to put on." He mentioned.

"Which is why you'll be needing this special bubble gum." (y/n) said, holding out a tube and passing it to Henry, who didn't understand its significance.

"Special?" He said, feeling confused again.

"Read the instructions." She pointed out.

"Chew gum, blow bubble, fight crime." He read aloud, looking up at Ray.

"Now, you'll be needing one of these too," Ray said, kneeling in front of him and placing a bracelet on Henry's wrist. (y/n) took Ray's laser remote and lowered the lights in the Man Cave because Ray wanted the next bit of the conversation to be dramatic.

"What's this for?" The boy questioned.

"It means we're engaged." He joked, making (y/n) giggle at him.

"What?" Henry's eyes grew wider.

"He's kidding. It's how we'll contact you." (y/n) reassured him before he could panic.

"Why can't you just call me?" Henry asked.

"I melted your phone." Ray reminded him in a monotone voice.

"Right." Henry nodded along with him.

"Now, listen closely. That wristband flashes." Ray started to explain.

"It flashes." The teen understood.

"A triple flashing light means emergency, like "major sitch going down, so get here fast." (y/n) finished for him.

"Right."

"A double flashing light means it's important." Ray continued.

"And what does a single flashing light mean?" Henry looked up expectantly.

"Just to, you know, shoot us a text whenever." (y/n) piped up in a casual voice.

"Got it."

"Now, raise your right hand, spread your fingers. Turn your head and cough." Ray said, doing the same.

"Oh god, here comes the oath." (y/n) mumbled under her breath. Henry mimicked Ray's actions.

"What?"

"Haha, joke." (y/n) rolled her eyes again at Ray's childishness.

"Place your left hand over your right lung, and repeat after me." He said as Henry slapped a hand over his chest.

"I, Henry Hart--" Captain Man started.

"I, Henry Hart--" The teen repeated.

"Pledge to be an awesome sidekick to Captain Man--" Again, (y/n) rolled her eyes. Most oaths didn't go like this.

"Pledge to be an awesome sidekick to Captain Man--"

"And to never ever, ever tell anyone that I am Captain Man's secret sidekick." Ray focused his eyes on Henry.

"And to never, ever tell anyone that I am Captain Man's secret sidekick." Henry smiled back.

"You left out that last ever." (y/n) butted in with her humour.

"Ever." Henry finished.

"It is done." Ray ended the oath, lowering his hand.

"Feels good," Henry said, smiling at the two. However, before they could celebrate more, the alarm went off, telling Ray and (y/n) that there was an emergency. The lights went back on, and they ran over to the supercomputer.

"What's up, Gooch?" (y/n) said, sitting down and opening the camera between the Man Cave and Junk-N-Stuff.

"Someone sabotaged the bridge over the Jandy River." He explained, looking worried.

"The bridge is down?" Ray asked in concern.

"Affirmative," Gooch confirmed.

"That means yes," Ray whispered to Henry.

"I think he knew that doofus." (y/n) whispered back.

"Situation?" Ray concentrated on the situation at hand.

"Cars in the water. Lives in danger." Gooch relayed the message.

"Understood," Ray said.

"Okay, from here to the Jandy River, tell them Captain Man's ETA is about 15 minutes, Gooch." (y/n) told the man before closing the link.

"Phase two of The Toddler's plan." The superhero said with his fists clenched in anger.

"Let's ride." He said to Henry, running over to grab a weapon from the bench.

"Wait, where?" Henry asked.

"We've got people in the Jandy River that need saving. Come on." Ray exclaimed in a hurry, running over to where the tubes came down.

"You mean we're going there together, like right now?" Henry wasn't up to speed with what was going on.

"Yeah, get under your tube," Ray said to him, wanting to get out as soon as possible.

"Good luck!" (y/n) shouted over to them with a grin from her place at the computer. Ray returned her smile briefly before looking back to Henry.

"Ready?" He asked him.

"For what?" The 13-year-old asked, not knowing what was coming next.

"Up the tube!" Ray shouted after hitting his belt. The suction started, and he shot up the tube and out of the Man Cave.

"I don't know how to--" Henry panicked. He started jumping up and down, hoping his tube would do the same.

"Just tap your belt buckle." (y/n) explained. Henry did as she said, causing his tube to come down.

"Up the tuuuuuuube.." Henry shouted as he, too, was drawn upwards.

~(y/n)'s PoV~

I sat down in the Man Cave, just lying on the couch like I usually did when Ray went out. I was scrolling through my phone when the news flashed on the computer. Noticing it was about the Jandy River incident, I swiftly gave it my full attention.

'--Take you live to the Jandy Bridge, which mysteriously collapsed over an hour ago." The female news anchor reported.

"Mysteriously, my ass." I snickered to myself. Like Ray, I had no love for The Toddler or any criminal.

"We understand there are several people in cars in the water. People are injured." The on-scene reporter said.

'Come on, get to the Captain Man bit.' I thought to myself, as I already knew all the details about the bridge collapsing.

I got up to grab some ice cream whilst they talked about the rescue operation. However, I soon ran back to my seat on the couch, nearly spilling the frozen dessert, when they finally mentioned Ray.

"Luckily, Captain Man arrived on the scene, leapt into the water, and saved the endangered citizens from drowning." I couldn't help but smile to myself at how selfless Ray was.

"And Ron, is it true that for the first time, Captain Man wasn't working alone?" The woman asked the reporter.

"Damn straight, lady! Go, Henry!" I shouted with a mouthful of ice cream, happy that Henry was being recognised for his actions.

"That's correct. It appears Captain Man has teamed up with a new sidekick, who apparently goes by the name Kid Danger." 'Huh, glad we discussed that one, Ray.' I monologued, but in truth, I wasn't angry or anything. 'Kid Danger' was a pretty sick name for a sidekick.

"Well, once again, Swellview owes a big thanks to Captain Man and, apparently, Kid Danger." The news anchor smiled as the report ended, so I turned off the screen. As soon as I did, a tube came down with a filthy Ray, which made my eyes widen in shock and laughter.

"Sweet cheese, what happened to you?" I said, running to grab a towel from the back of the Man Cave.

"Justice. That's what happened." He said from behind me in his Captain Man voice. I returned with a towel that Ray took from my hands and immediately wiped his face, letting out a sigh.

"Still no sign of the Toddler, then?" I asked sympathetically. He let out a long groan.

"Dang it, no! That piece of filth got away as soon as the bridge collapsed." He said, tiredly going over to the computer chair.

"Don't sit down! You're covered in river gunge and debris and stuff." He looked at me with puppy eyes, which melted my heart, but I wasn't about to spend an hour getting the dirt and smell off the chair.

"Look at me like that all you want, but you need a shower 'cause you stink." I push him towards the sprocket, where our rooms and bathrooms were.

"Leave your suit in the laundry basket, and I'll wash it!" I shouted to him, which he acknowledged with a wave of his hand behind his back.

"Thank you!" I chuckled after him. For all his craziness, I wouldn't give up working with him for the world.

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usmsgutterson · 3 months ago

Text

Achilles Heel - Givenson

one, two, three

Read Achilles Heel on AO3

okay!! this fic has lived in my stupid little worm brain for like, three weeks now, and here we are! This is the last chapter in the miniseries and mostly serves as the epilogue because I am simultaneously a lover of angst and a sucker for a happy or happyish ending.

Warnings - tim is in heart attack recovery so the heart attack is still biiiiiig time a focus here!! There's a few mentions of seizures (tim is mentioned to have had two more en route to the hospital) and a few mentions of cigarettes, a few mentions of tims time in the military, and even though I did edit this twice, if I missed anything, feel free to let me know!!

When Tim wakes up, the first thing he registers is the sound of his own heart beating through a monitor, the sound regular enough to be of little concern. The second thing he registers is the fact that his eyes are still closed and how heavy they feel, and the third?

The third thing he feels is Raylans hand clutching his own, his mouth close to Tims fingers.

“I need you to wake up,” Raylan says, his voice quiet. “Been a week, Tim. You need to be okay. I need you to be okay.”

“’M fine,” Tim rasps, exasperated. “My eyes are just heavy.”

It takes him a few seconds, but he does manage to open them. When he looks to his left, he sees Raylan looking at him with a smile. His eyes are glossed over but if Tim asks, he knows Raylan well enough to know he'll deny it, so he doesn't say a word.

“Boyd,” Tim starts, his tone anxious as bits and pieces of the two weeks spent in Boyds captivity start to flood his brain. “Is he--”

“Awaitin’ trial,” Raylan says. “Reardons the judge and Boyd did the surprising thing—waived his right to a jury. Vasquez tells me that Reardon is favoring the death sentence in Boyds case. He's bein' questioned further today, I think? Rachel mentioned wantin' me there, but I figured I'd be of better company here and can't stand to look much at the bastard anyway. Had I seen him in the office, I'd've killed him, no questions.”

“Oh,” Tim says. “I--”

“It’s fine,” Raylan responds, squeezing Tims hand. “You don’t need to talk. I have a lotta shit to say, actually.”

Tim nods.

“First and foremost, when Stevens and I had caught up with him, he admitted to all of it—everything,” Raylan start. “In order, too. First to stalkin’ you and the ones you love, then to abductin’ you outside’a Kingstons, then to two weeks of torture and finally, to triggerin' your second heart attack with intent to murder. Smiled and stared at me when he said that last one, though, and I just—I saw red. I wanted t' tackle him to the ground and punch the life outta him for it, but Stevens kept me from that. I wanted Boyd dead and almost killed him, but one thing kept me from actually doin' it."

“What?”

“Rachel and Dunlop had called, said that you were in an ambulance havin’ your third total seizure but your second in the space of fifteen minutes. Stevens told me to arrest Boyd so that we could bring him in and I could visit you once you were done with surgery, and that brought me back around,” Raylan says. “I hated it—the idea of losing you. I couldn’t risk that. Not again.”

“I’m right here,” Tim says. “You didn’t lose me.”

“No, but I did when I left for Miami,” Raylan says, tone sorrowful.

“You had a kid and Winona wanted to try again,” Tim shrugs. “I--I’d do the same if I were in similar circumstances. I don’t fault you for that, even though things were shit when you left.”

“Well--let me make my point,” Raylan snarks. He kisses the back of Tims hand and Tim grins softly, letting the gesture mean it’s full weight instead of pushing it away. “I talked to Rachel, and then I talked to Dan, and then I sat here every single day for a week straight waitin’ for you to wake up, and I thought.”

“About what?”

“About what Boyd called you when I asked him why he’d taken you, of everyone in my life for whom I would willingly step in front of a gun,” Raylan laughs a bit. “I told him he coulda taken Art, or Rachel or—shit, even Dunlop. I asked 'im why he’d chosen you if it wasn’t just a decision made for the sake of convenience.”

“You’d step in front of a gun for Dunlop?” Tim laughs a little. “And I thought you decidin’ to sleep with me was the worst decision you’d ever made. Guess I was wrong, then.”

“Not Dunlop,” Raylan presses his forehead against Tims hand. “And--not like I can anyway, not anymore. He quit as soon as Stevens’n I brought Boyd in, but you--stop keepin' me from makin' my point, dammnit.”

“Sorry,” Tim squeezes Raylans hand, shifts a bit as he finds his position mildly uncomfortable. His mouth is dry and he misses Rachel more than he’ll ever admit, but he’s okay otherwise. “You thought about what Boyd called me when you asked why it was me he’d abducted.”

“He called you my Achilles heel,” Raylan says, his voice just barely above a whisper. “I denied it at first—eleven years gone from when I left and there’s no way you qualify as much when we hadn’t spoken for all that time prior to when I first got down here. I told Rachel about it, told her I disagreed, and she laughed in my fuckin' face.”

Tim grins gently. “Yeah, she would.”

“Then I called Dan and talked to him, then I called Art,” Raylan says. “Dan told me there was space at the office if I wanted to stow you away in my suitcase, and Art pretty much did what Rachel did. Called me an oblivious idiot prior to, at least, and told me he’d be in Lexington this week if I wanted to chat. I came here, I grabbed your hand and I prayed to a God I haven’t had real cause to believe in since before my daddy hit me for the first time, and then I got to thinkin’ and I just couldn’t stop it.”

Tim takes a deep breath in, swallows thickly and reaches for the water that’s sitting on the table tucked to his right. He grabs the bottle and sits up, takes a sip while he waits for Raylan to continue.

Raylans watching him, he realizes, and when Tim meets his gaze, he continues.

“I realized Boyd was right,” he says. “Kills me a little to admit that, but—while you were gone, I was relentlessly pissed off. Even the smallest thing ticked me off into a rage. I screamed at Dunlop, for fucks sakes.”

Tim laughs, takes another sip of his water before he closes the lid and puts it in his lap, too tired to reach for the table for the time being.

“What are you sayin’?”

“I’m saying—shit, you really are gonna make me say it?”

“Yeah,” Tim nods. “I’m tired, Raylan. Real tired. Don’t make me ask twice, please.”

“Well--you had a massive heart attack, two seizures, and landed here, so I guess I’ll do the nice thing,” Raylan shrugs. “What I’m sayin’ iis that you are my Achilles heel and unfortunately, I love you more for it every fuckin’ day.”

Tim looks at Raylan, really looks at him, and sees that he means the words he says. The feeling it generates within him is bone deep, so deeply seated within him that when it roars back to life, it doesn’t come as anything close to a surprise.

“What are we gonna do about that, then?”

“Well--knowing whether or not the feeling is mutual seems a decent place to start,” Raylan laughs. “But that’s just my opinion, you don’t need to take that seriously.”

“Raylan Givens, you idiotic bastard,” Tim laughs. “It’s--it’s reciprocated. I reciprocate it so much that my chest has hurt when I’ve thought about you almost every single day for the last eleven years, and—of fucking course we’d have this moment while I’m in a damn hospital bed.”

Raylan laughs. “Okay--that’s good,” he says. “I’m gonna call Dan, I think. Do him a disservice by takin’ two months off so I can help you recover. Rachels already booked you in.”

“I was back at the office within the week last--”

“Your last heart attack was mild,” Raylan cuts. “This one was massive, and I’ll be damned if I let you do that. You’re takin’ two months.”

Tims lips form a line and he presses his head against the pillow. “Fine,” he grumbles. “I’m going to take a nap now.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Raylan laughs. “Likely reeling after Dans finished up yellin’ my ear off.”

Tim huffs, closes his eyes and squeezes Raylans hand, dimly registering that he wants Raylan closer than he is right at that moment but also registering that he’s unwilling to have Raylan as close as he wants while he’s sat up in a damn hospital bed.

A few hours later, when he wakes, he finds Raylan has kept his word and is still sitting to his left.

“You call Dan yet?” He hears, registering immediately that the voice is Arts. “Please tell me he threw a fit and please tell me you saved your laughter til the phone call got done with.”

“I did,” Raylan says. Tim looks at him through half open, exhausted eyes, sees a smile on his face. “He didn’t throw a fit—I explained it before he could throw one and while it stings, he says they’ve gotten used to the office without me.”

“I imagine it’s rather peaceful without you around,” Art laughs, and Raylan just happens to look over to see Tim watching him.

“Hey, sleepy,” he greets. “How ya doin’?”

“Been better,” Tim shrugs. “Also been worse, though, so I’m fine. Are they dopin' me up with pain meds?"

Raylan nods once, and Tim sighs. He can feel it--he's loopy, overtired, and just drowsy enough to be completely honest while completely unprompted in his honesty.

He turns to Rachel, who’s standing to his right. “I feel like I should’ve called Raylan after the first one,” he says. It prompts a laugh from Rachel and Tim mentally celebrates the small victory.

“No shit,” she says. “You’ve gotta stop scarin’ me like that, Tim. My heart can’t take it a third time.”

“Neither can his, I suspect,” Art rebuts. Tim takes a minute to look him up and down from where he stands beside Rachel, and he is pleasantly surprised at just how good retirement still looks on the likes of Art Mullen. He’s sixty-seven now, has been retired for a decade and his skin is still tan as it was last they saw each other. His smile is still the same kind of bright that only comes with freedom from working in law enforcement and his eyes are still very kind. “I mean—a third heart attack will put him in the grave, won’t it?”

“Yeah, which is why he’s retirin’ soon as he hits the damn 20 year mark,” Raylan snips. “Four more years and he’s home free.”

“I never agreed to that,” Tim says. “I’ll be retirin’ when I’m 57 and not a damn minute sooner.”

He turns to look at Raylan and sees his mouth form a line. “I can get behind that, if you transfer to Miami,"

"You're too fuckin' protective," Tim grumbles. "And too fuckin' stubborn. I had a damn heart attack, but just because it's my second ain't gonna mean I take kindly to bein' coddled. I'm a forty-five year old man, for fucks sake."

Raylan smiles. He mouths an apology as Rachel follows on the coattails of Tims words, and Tim doesn't respond.

“I also ain’t approvin’ that request,” Rachel says. “No way. You wanna keep an eye on him like he’s some damsel in distress, you transfer back down here. I’m keepin’ him til he either quits, retires, or dies in the damn field.”

Tim moves his eyes to the ceiling as he seeks out Raylans hand, flexing his fingers as he searches. The idea of being around Raylan and Rachels bickering has never bothered him much--he usually mediates when they're at work because damn it if they aren't so damn alike that they clash, but he has zero interest in mediating while he's sat up in the recovery unit. He decides to stare at the ceiling while he waits for them to quit it.

“I didn’t miss it, either,” Tim feels Art gently push his shoulder. “Their bickering. That was the best part about Raylan bein’ gone before I retired.”

Raylans hand finds Tims and Tim is quick to interlace their fingers. “We aren’t bickering,” Raylan says. “I’d request the transfer if I thought Dan’d approve it.”

“I’ll retire on my forty-nineth birthday if y’all just shut the fuck up,” Tim says, exasperated. “Or--partially retire, or some shit, or work less—just stop. Please, in the name of Christ, quit the fuckin’ bickering.”

Tim feels Raylans lips against the back of his hand in lieu of an actual apology, and Rachel gives his shoulder a sisterly squeeze.

“Sorry,” she says. “I talked to one of the nurses—you'll be discharged five days out, then you get to go home to Roulette and keep your ass there for the next two months. Once you come back, you’re gonna do desk duty for at least the first two weeks after, mkay? I don’t need you havin’ a third heart attack because your heart wasn’t ready for you to be in the field.”

Tim hates the idea of desk duty, hates the idea of two months off with only Raylan and Roulette the cat to keep him company, but he puts up with it because it’s better that he recover fully than go back to work when he’s not ready and risk further screwing up his heart.

“Fine,” he says. “That--that’s fine. I can live with that.”

He can, if just barely. He turns his gaze from the ceiling over to Art and Rachel, searches their faces and finds that the epicentre of their concern exists in their eyes, just like it does for Raylan.

“I’ll come and visit a few times,” Art says. “I’m down here for the next couple weeks before I head back to South Carolina--our trip has extended for reasons that aren't just related to you, I swear it-- and eight hours a day with Raylan drove the best of us crazy. I don’t even wanna think about how awful twenty four would be.”

“Eight of them will be spent asleep,” Raylan rebuts.

“More like ten,” Tim corrects. “I’m--ugh. I’m fuckin’ exhausted.”

Rachel smiles gently. “You tryin’ to kick us out and be nice about it?”

“No,” Tim says nonchalantly because he does want them there—Rachel and Raylan make it easier to sleep, and Arts presence is just kind of weirdly comforting. “I’d actually prefer it if you didn’t go anywhere, I’m just noting that I’m tired.”

He looks to Raylan, blinks tiredly. “Yeah,” he grumbles. “I really should’ve called the first time.”

Raylan smiles, eyes crinkling just so at the corners to tell Tim that it’s genuine. “Well, we all make mistakes,” he says. “Art--there’s a coffee machine just outside if you’re also gettin’ tired? I know I could use a cup.”

“I’m gonna go with him,” Rachel says. “Make sure he doesn’t get lost or anythin’.”

Rachel and Art head out, and Tims shoulders relax just slightly.

“You’re sure you’re all right?” Raylan asks. “Like--how worried do I need to be?”

“Not at all,” Tim says. “I’m just tired, ‘n I hate hospitals, and I was so fuckin’ stupid about this stuff last time around—I just—the idea of fuckin’ up my heart for a third time is scarin’ me well past my damn limit.”

“Well then don’t,” Raylan says, laughing at himself a little. “I mean—don't push your heart past its limit. Stop smoking cigarettes, we’ve already covered the no-booze thing extensively. Start eating healthy and keep going for your runs in the morning. Rachel and I are too scared to lose you to let you go off track and I know you’ve scared Art at least close to shitless so he’ll help while he’s in Kentucky, and it’ll be fine. Plus, you only have five more days in here, then you’re home free. Roulette keeps falling asleep on your sweatshirts, by the way—it was real cute at first. Now it’s just real depressin'.”

Tim smiles, soft and gentle and so not like himself. “I miss her.”

“She misses you,” Raylan says. “She’s close to nine weeks old now and she still meows just as loud as she did when you brought her home, I suspect. Loves to sleep on your clothes and splayed out on the arm of the couch. I’ve been lookin’ after her in your absence—she's kept me calm.”

Tims smile somehow only gets softer. He watches Raylan take the center of his top lip between his teeth.

“Are you doin' okay?” Tim asks because he wants to focus on someone elses well being instead of his own for a few minutes.

“I thought I lost you there, for a sec,” Raylan confesses. “I was scared, and I’m just thinkin’--I’m glad I didn’t lose you, ‘s all.”

“Okay,” Tim says. “I’m--I--” he closes his eyes to illustrate the point he’s too tired to speak into existence, and when he hears Raylans snort he thinks he could die happily if he were to die right then.

“Yeah,” Raylan whispers. “Sleep, Tim. You look like you need it.”

He wants to open his eyes, to scoff and call Raylan an asshole, but he refrains, chooses to sleep instead.

Five days later, he’s discharged from the hospital and Raylan takes him home. He spends a lot of his first day being followed around by Roulette like she’s scared he’ll leave again, but when he moves from bed to kitchen to couch and inevitably sits to relax somewhere along that line, she curls up on his lap or in his chest and her purring is as loud as a freight train.

She keeps him calm, usually. Her purring is just barely less than enough to lull him into sleep, but the sound of Raylans breathing in quiet moments usually finishes the job.

The first day is spent sleeping, mostly, unless he’s hungry or has to take a piss—when either of those things occur he slips out of bed while Raylan tells him to take it easy and Roulette abandons her post tucked up against Tims side in favor of sticking to his right, her side pressed against his ankle as one step for him is a good two or three for her.

He grabs something quick—rips a little carton of yoghurt off of the pack he’s had in his fridge since before Boyd had abducted him, rips a banana off the stem and then peels and eats it, or even just grabs a granola bar to tide him over til either the next meal or when he inevitably gets hungry again.

When he’s not eating, he’s in bed with Raylan. Normally he curls in on himself just a little, tucks himself under Raylans chin and takes a deep breath to breathe him in before he’s finally able to settle. Sometimes, he doesn’t even sleep, just closes his eyes and slows his breathing down and tries to fight the anxiety that seems to linger relentlessly, never going away or fading no matter what Tim does.

Eventually, somewhere between nine o’clock on the first day home and midnight on the second, Raylans hands find Tims hair and start carding through it in a bid to get him to relax.

“You’ve been on edge all fuckin’ day,” Raylan says when Tim starts to retreat. “Relax for a second, Tim. It ain’t gonna kill ya.”

“All this time off might,” Tim rebuts. “I know I agreed to it, but—the off time is just more time to be anxious about my heart randomly giving out. I figured I wouldn’t make it to sixty, but fuck, facing that reality is a little scary.”

He stops retreating from the touch once it fully registers, and after a second it actually starts serving it’s purpose—it relaxes him bit by bit, starting in the slightest release of tension from his shoulders.

“You’re not gonna die at sixty,” Raylan says. “Or a minute before then. I have eleven years of time to make up with you so if you die a minute before your fifty-sixth birthday I’m going to lose my shit.”

Tim smiles gently, drapes an arm over Raylans waist. “Give me the next two months to actually think about this, but—I might ask Rachel to transfer me to Miami in the new year.”

“Funny,” Raylan laughs. “I was just thinkin’ about asking Dan to transfer me back to Kentucky.”

“You’d--you’d live here willingly?”

“For at least five or six years,” Raylan says. “Not permanently—I could never stand to live here as long as you have, and Miami is great, but I wanna be where you are.”

“Saying that to me while I’m just tired enough to only be half listening is so, so unfair,” Tim says. His shoulders relax further and the ease spreads down his back, through his legs to the balls of his feet. “We’ll discuss it tomorrow, when we’re actually fully awake. You, Raylan, are going to let me go for a run tomorrow if it kills you.”

“It’s not my death that I’m worried about,” Raylan rebuts.

Tim grumbles, settles further into the bed and closes his eyes, willing his mind to relax along with the rest of his body so that he can go to sleep.

“Running ain't gonna kill me.”

“It might.”

“I’ll--fine,” Tim sighs, presses himself closer against Raylan in spite of himself. “I’ll go for a jog, then, and I won’t touch coffee unless it’s decaf.”

Raylan sighs, content, and Tim decides to shut his mouth for the time being.

Eventually, he falls asleep. It’s the deepest sleep he’s slept in days and he’s all the more glad for it.

The first quarter of his eight weeks off is relatively uneventful—Kentucky is riding out the coattails of autumn and heading straight for winter in a manner that Tim loves more than usual that year, and Roulette just gets clingier everyday.

Art comes around a few times a week, as does Rachel, though they both tend to come around at different times of the day. Rachel usually checks in after she gets off work and then stays for a few hours, and Art is usually around from noon on the dot to four on the dot.

It’s a weird kind of nice to have Art around again—it reminds him of his first bit with the Marshals. Art had been a weird, fatherly-adjacent sort of constant in and around the office, one to scowl but not say a word otherwise when Tim would come in mildly hungover.

It’s odd to see him in a different kind of context that involves Tims shoddy little apartment and usually sitting on the couch or standing in the kitchen versus the one he’s used to in Arts post-retirement era, that being sat across from him at some restaurant with Michelin stars, drinking decent bourbon and making easy conversation.

Art is simultaneously exactly who Tim remembers and an entirely different person, but more in the way that he's a lot more relaxed than he used to be. Working as a LEO, let alone as Chief Deputy, used to have him sort of high strung, even though he was still more lax than even the most unbothered of Tims bosses while he worked in the military.

It’s only at the tail end of the second of eight weeks of off time that Tim is reminded of the fact that Art Mullen is a 67 year old man who had an upbringing entirely separate from Tims both in the general sense and also the generation.

“Were you and Raylan—like—was that--?” Art asks it within the first hour and a half of his four hour visit, and Tim just about spits out the decaf coffee he’s finally started to like on a consistent basis. “I mean, the signs were there and everythin’, but I didn’t ask at the time cause you two worked damn well together.”

“Art!” Tim laughs. “Oh my God—I know Rachel calls you the closest thing I’ve got to a dad for shits ‘n giggles, but what the fuck was that? I don’t think even my daddy woulda asked me about that like you did, and I doubt he'd've asked me about that at all if he were still kickin'.”

Arts eyes go wide, and Tim laughs into his coffee mug as he hears Raylans footsteps tredging out of the bedroom.

“Mornin’, Tim,” Raylan greets, still groggy and likely in that blissful post-cat nap headspace as he speaks.

“It’s the afternoon,” Art says in a pointed tone as Roulette, who’d been sticking with Raylan most of that day despite her usual clinginess with Tim, daringly leaps up onto the counter top to headbutt Tims arm until he gives in and scratches the spot she likes under her chin.

“Coffee?” Raylan asks.

“It’s decaf,” Tim says.

Raylan scowls but grabs a mug anyway, and starts making himself a cup.

“What were you guys talking about?” Raylan asks, one of his hands goes to Tims hip in a gesture that to Raylan is probably idle but to Tim means just a bit more than the world.

“Well, honey,” Tim laughs a bit. “Art just tried to ask me, very delicately, if we were bangin’ back in Boyds heyday.”

“We were,” Raylan says nonchalantly, and suddenly Tim is very grateful for the sheer amount of entertainment that can come from a groggy Raylan who’s woken up from a cat nap and is still not fully there yet. “Next question.”

Arts eyes go wider, somehow, and he chuckles. “You deal with this every single day?” Art asks. “Like--willingly? You know you don’t have to, right?”

“He loves me, asshole,” Raylan grumbles. Art looks at Tim again, quirks one gray eyebrow.

“And--you’re completely sure about that?”

“Unfortunately,” Tim nods, takes a sip of his coffee, applauds himself because the damn grinder Raylan had bought burnt the beans every single time without fail and the maker was old but beloved so automatically not at fault.

“Asshole,” Raylan grumbles. He accompanies the word with a kiss against Tims cheekbone, though, so Tim knows it’s halfhearted.

Tim finally gives in after Roulette does the passive aggressive thing and runs to the wall, only to sprint towards Tims forearm and put every ounce of her energy into headbutting it. He scratches the spot under her chin and when she decides she’s done and claws her way up his arm and to his shoulder, he lets her.

It used to bug him when she did that—the claws in his arms and up his shoulders generated tiny little dot-sized scabs that’d eventually turn into dot-sized scars, but he’s grown to love it as time has passed. She sits on his left shoulder, presses her tiny little head against the side of his neck and purrs herself asleep. It's a cute sight and sound, though somewhat of a nuisance in the mornings when she purrs so loud it wakes him up.

“You love me,” Tim says, narrowing his eyes in Raylans direction.

“Unfortunately,” Raylan echoes. Tim leans against the counter a little, glances at Art.

“We were,” he says nonchalantly. “Tried to keep it under wraps because we knew we wouldn’t be allowed to be partnered on cases and we worked too well together to risk that possibility. Plus—it wasn’t really serious either time.”

“Well, Raylans got a child with another woman so that much is obvious,” Art shrugs. “Is it that serious now?”

“We’re still workin’ out the majority of the details,” Tim shrugs again. “Like--livin’ arrangements and shit, but yeah.”

Art turns to look at Raylan now, and Tim follows his gaze only to see Raylan going for the freezer, grabbing for the frozen meat patties to make burgers in the oven. Tim decides he’s content with that—they have a surplus of those fuckin’ burgers because Raylan likes them that damn much, and Tim has no qualms about what he eats unless he's the one making his food.

“You hurt him,” Art says. “I mean—you do it again, and I will be livin’ out the rest of my days in a jail cell, you hear?”

“Loud’n clear,” Raylan nods. “I hear you.”

Tim smiles at Art, and Art returns the gesture.

It’s nice, Tim thinks—to have the illusion of family for even just a second.

The five weeks to follow go sort of slow in a way that Tim learns to cherish. He starts, gradually, going for runs again. They start as walks with Raylan at no earlier than 9:30 in the morning but gradually progress to jogging by himself at eight and then by the end of his seventh week off, he’s waking up at 6:30, getting dressed into a pair of sweatpants and an old military tee and is out the door and on his run by seven.

He settles back into routines of old even as the seasons continue to change and the month shifts from November into December. He spends Christmas with Raylan that season, orders the pair of them Chinese food and does the dishes while Raylan FaceTimes his daughter.

As December shifts into January and his sixth week off turns into his seventh, he and Raylan have a lot of discussions about their future—it's stuff they can’t avoid, really, not if they want to make it work like they wasted eleven years not doing.

Raylans plan had, initially, been to come back up to Kentucky, but they realized very quickly that that wouldn’t work—Raylan would be unhappy in Kentucky, for starters, and the only reason he was there at all had been for Tims sake anyway, and Dan would never approve of the transfer with them being stretched out that thin at the Miami office.

Tim had spent a lot of time considering it on his end—there was no time difference between Kentucky and Miami, and it was a fifteen hour drive versus two hours total spent in coach on alternating weekends.

In the end, the choice was clear enough, and that was what led him to walking into Rachels office, his shoulders wound up tight and his smile mostly not there.

“Hey,” he says. “I know I’m not due back at work for another week, but—we need to talk, if you’ve got a sec?”

“You’re gonna ask me for a transfer,” Rachel says accusatorily. “Where? Because I love you enough to know that if you go to Miami, it’ll be against the damn law for you and Raylan to be partnered up, which will make Raylan grumpy and then he’ll get angry and lash out, and I’d really rather save you and Dan from havin’ to deal with that. Come in and sit down, I’ve been anticipating this since fuckin’ Christmas.”

Tim laughs, does as she tells him without a second thought.

“Anywhere,” he says. “Look--I know we have our jokes about how we’re gonna leave this state, but--”

“You fell in love with somethin’ that ain’t your job for once,” Rachel cuts. “Look--I’m not mad. I know I said I wouldn’t approve a transfer when you were layin’ up in a hospital bed, but things have changed. I’ve seen how you are with him, with that stupid fuckin’ cat.”

“Roulette is not stupid,” Tim says, immediately jumping to her defense.

“She’s dumb as a box of rocks, Tim,” Rachel says. “She’s cute, and she’d die if you, specifically, went longer than maybe twelve hours without givin’ her attention, but she is damn stupid.”

“She has at least two braincells,” Tim rebuts. “They’ve just never been used—and that, Rachel Eloise Brooks, is entirely besides the point. What do you mean by that, that you’ve seen how I am with Raylan?”

“He softens you up like I’ve never seen anyone else capable,” she says. “You smile at him, and you mean it when you do it. It’s like when you smile at me except when you smile at me, it’s platonic. Whenever you smile at Raylan it’s all romance goin’ through your big, idiotic head. Swear to God, he makes you soft. Makes you comfortable with bein’ vulnerable even after eleven years no contact. I found it funny at first, if I’m honest, but now I appreciate it.”

“You notice too much,” Tim says.

“That’s probably true,” Rachel shrugs. “But the fact that I know you’ve got Raylan in your life again makes this easier—do you know the name Elliot Shephard?”

A brief image of a then 25-year-old Sergeant from his days in the infantry unit flashes across Tims mind.

“Fuck yeah I know that name,” Tim nods. “He was my boss while I worked infantry. Why do you ask?”

“He’s the Chief Deputy at the Newnan office down in Georgia, which is about a two and a half hour drive out from Miami. You cut out an hour of time if you fly down but honestly, I don’t think that’d be worth it. Lexington is father away from Harlan than Newnan is from Miami and there’s no difference in time zones.”

“Well,” Tim shrugs. “I am in my seventh week of off time and it’s January so my brain is foggy as all hell—spell it out for me, please.”

“He called and asked how well staffed we are up here in Lexington. I said we’ve got at least one to spare if you need, and he said that there’s a position he needs to fill come the end of March. Are you in?”

“You sure you can handle another two months with me?”

Rachel laughs. “I’m gonna miss the fuck outta you, Gutterson,” she says. “You best remember to call me once in a while after you’re gone, all right? I don’t got much in the way of family anymore, either, so I do expect an invite down to Georgia at Christmas.”

“You and I have spent Christmas together every fuckin’ year since you left your ex husband,” Tim laughs. “Yeah. You have an invite, and I’ll call you a few times a week.”

Rachel smiles, reaches out and gives his hand a squeeze. “I’ll tell Shephard that I’m sendin’ you down.”

Tim smiles back, tries to ignore the way that his chest aches at the thought of leaving Rachel behind even though he knows he’s going for good fuckin’ reason.

“I’m gonna miss you too, by the way,” he says. “I really do love you, y’know.”

Her smile brightens. “I know,” she says.

They sit in the silence for a while after, basking in it as they would at the end of a long, tough case. Tim cherishes the silence, cherishes who he's sitting in it with because he knows it's not the last time they'll sit in silence before he's gone off to Newnan, but it's the time that'll mean the most.

The last time that Tim goes to the VFW in Lexington, it feels kind of bittersweet. Alexander is leaving to go down to North Carolina and it’s their last session before Tim leaves for Newnan.

“You doin’ all right?” Alexander asks. It’s the end of March, Tim has packed his entire life up to that point into his truck and all he has to do yet is grab Roulette from the Lexington office, where Rachel had offered to watch her while Tim did his last appointment with Alexander, and then he can hit the road and spend the next six hours driving. He’ll be in Newnan for seven if the traffic is good, which he really hopes it is. “I know we haven’t really talked about it because it’s been so long, but you had a damn heart attack five months ago, and then another one what—a month later? How are you doin’ with that?”

That makes Tim laugh. “Good,” he says. “I mean—we’ve talked about it a bit in a few of the appointments we’ve had since my second, and I feel okay about it, I guess. I don’t think about it as obsessively as I used to, don’t think I’ll be dead by sixty anymore. I have a cat, for fucks sakes. If I die before she does, Hell hath no fury quite like mine.”

It makes Alexander laugh, and even though he knows he shouldn’t, Tim considers it a victory.

“You’n the—the guy,” Alexander says. “The Marshal, as I’ve dubbed him. What’s the what with that?”

“The what is that I’m transferrin’ to Georgia to be closer to the asshole,” Tim says nonchalantly. “He’s decided my heart is so gnarly I’m to retire once I hit twenty years with the service but I’m gonna see if I can coax him into twenty-five. We’re tryin’ to figure stuff out for the long term—I'm movin’ to be only two and a half hours out from Miami. We’re gonna make it last. I’m fuckin’ determined about that.”

“Have you guys been talking a lot about the long term?”

“It’s all we can talk about,” Tim laughs. “I dunno—Raylan retires in a bit. I retire in anywhere from four to ten years, and we’ve been talkin’ a lot about it.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Right now it’s lookin’ like he’ll retire come the end of the year, stay in Miami for the next bit til I retire. He’s got a kid he’s down there for and he’s gonna stay down there til she graduates high school in a while yet which makes me hopeful he won’t notice when I fail to retire at forty-nine and retire at fifty-four instead. Seven years out, he’s either going to come down to Georgia and join me in Newnan for the next two years til I retire or I’m gonna bite the bullet’n retire at fifty-two. We’re both winter lovers so we’re thinkin’ relocating to somewheres like Maine in the end. It’s all idyllic right now, none of it actualized, but he told me we either moved to Maine and stayed in the states or we moved to Nova Scotia way across the border because, in his words, they’re “basically the same.””

“Maine, huh? You don’t really seem like the type who’d enjoy that much snow in the winter.”

“I sure as hell won’t enjoy the blisterin’ sun all the damn time,” Tim laughs. “Plus--shovellin’ all that snow in the winter will give either Raylan or myself somethin’ to do for a season. Like I said—it's all idyllic, nothings for sure yet and I doubt it really will be til we cross the bridges we’re only talkin’ about as of now.”

“Everything works out in the end,” Alexander sighs. “That’s your philosophy for now, isn’t it?”

“Nothing worked out for eleven years,” Tim answers. “Right now, I’m in that headspace where I have to make sure it will. I dunno how long that’ll last, but I bet it’ll last for a while.”

Alexander laughs. “Yeah,” he says. “I get that—I've been there. Just try to remember that relationships are games of give and take. You’re not always going to be able to give it your everything and neither will Raylan, but that’s okay. It’s normal, even. You and Raylan will naturally find your footing in time and it’ll work out in the end, even if it doesn’t work out how you’re hoping it will.”

Tim smiles gently. “I’m doin’ everything I can to avoid screwin’ this up, I promise.”

“I know you are, Tim,” Alexander says. “Does he know a lot about your time with the military yet?”

“He knows a lot of it,” Tim shrugs. “All we’ve really had time to do in the past few months has been talk. He learned most of it while I was on leave after my second heart attack, but I’ve only been telling him when he’s been asking. He was like that when we first met—curious about my kills, the longest I’d ever stayed awake, the highest profile target I stuck a bullet into. I was closed off about it then.”

“Did you ever figure out why?”

Tim shrugs. “Something about the idea of being known that intimately scared me half to death,” he says. “And we’d known each other for all of like, a week or two when he first started asking those questions. I hadn’t even opened up that much with my boss of that time, no fuckin’ way was I gonna divulge that shit with some stranger. No matter how handsome said stranger may have been, I had standards then. Standards about who knew about what with regards to the time I served.”

“Standards are good,” Alexander says. “Whats changed?”

“Well--he’s not a stranger anymore. He has seen me naked, and his stupid, deft fuckin’ fingers have touched even the worst of the scars I’d garnered in that time.”

“You let him in.”

“I did,” Tim nods. “For the third time, mind you. Hopefully it doesn’t blow up in my face again.”

“I doubt it will, if it’s of any consolation,” Alexanders smile is bright, and meaningful, and warm. It almost kills Tim on the spot, just a little. “You’ve finally been dealt a good hand. Don’t let that go, Gutterson.”

Tim checks his watch, finds it’s quarter to one. “I promise you, Alexander, I won’t,” he says. “But I’ve gotta hit the road if I wanna make it to Newnan for seven.”

Alexander stands and Tim follows suit. Tim gears up to leave, has been mentally prepared for his exit for the past three months.

Alexander extends his hand. Tim shakes it without thinking.

“I’m real proud of you, man,” Alexander says. “You’re not as rough around the edges as you used to be.”

“That sounds like an insult.”

“It ain’t,” Alexander laughs heartily. “You’ve come a long fuckin’ way, and it’s good to see. That’s all I was sayin’.”

Tim smiles warmly, lets Alexanders hand go for a minute.

“Thank you,” he says. “For everything you’ve done these past six or so months.”

Alexander shakes his head. “Get on the road,” he says. “Get to the good part of life that awaits.”

Tim does as he’s told, heads out of the VFW with some part of the ache in his chest feeling lighter.

He climbs into his truck, stops off at the office to collect Roulette and hugs Rachel as tight as he can because they’ve both always sucked at proper goodbyes.

He gets on the road, knowing that he’s not the same guy he was sixteen years before, or the same guy he was a decade past or even so much as five years ago, but feeling glad for that.

Change, he decides, is not an inherently bad thing. Sometimes, in moments like that one, change can be for the better, and the change he’s making is decidedly so.

#tim gutterson #raylan givens #tim gutterson x raylan givens #givenson #justified #justified fx

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